Other than the sad state of my urinary tract, living with Ned has been pretty delightful. In the morning, he is my alarm, as he gets up before I do, and by the time he wakes me, the pets have been fed, the dogs have been let out, and he makes coffee.
I like little slavey Ned.
Also, I have had stupid amounts of salad in the past two weeks, and I've lost a few pounds. Which I know worries you, because I'm so small already. But also I've cooked! I know! I made salmon, and I made spaghetti, and yesterday I made eggs. I mean, I didn't make them in my body and shoot them out. But I cooked the eggs of some fowl somewhere who probably has a terrible life.
Anyway, yesterday we had our first official get-together, which I did not plan but rather took on a life of its own. Nothing is ready yet, and in fact I forgot to put soap in the guest bathroom and now everyone was unsanitary. But it started with The Other Copy Editor, who doesn't even WORK with me anymore, saying she wanted to stop by, as she lives half a mile away. I said okay, cool! But nothing's ready yet.
But then I told that to Tina Doris, who said, "But I've said all along I want to come sage your house! I'm coming over, too!" Okay, I said. Nothing's ready, I said.
Then my coworker Alex 3484939332 heard about it, and said she was coming too. And then the Other Copy Editor said, I'm bringing my "husband," okay?
The Other Copy Editor talked about this alleged husband of hers for MONTHS--months!!--before any of us at work saw him socially. He was always "busy" with "medical school." We were convinced her husband was George Glass, and that The Other Copy Editor went back to her lonely house every night and looked at her cardboard cutout of a man.
But then she started bringing this "husband" around, and he is wonderful, and I hope she went on Yelp and gave the escort service several stars.
"Hey, you know, the Tall Boy has been asking to come see the place since Day One," said Ned. "You should ask him, too."
NOTHING IS READY. Have I mentioned that? But call the Tall Boy I did, because I like the Tall Boy, and I said to him, hey, you're a man. Can you help Ned schlep a huge heavy desk upstairs so it's not in the middle of the dining room like an asshole? He said sure. I told himk nothing is ready yet.
My plan was to host everyone on my front porch, because NOTHING IS READY, but it was rainy and 60 degrees out there. So we went into the living room, where nothing is ready, and used a Rubbermaid bin as a coffee table, where I served snacks.
Everyone brought us little housewarming presents, which was sweet. TinaDoris was the last to get there, and she forgot the sage. "Are you guys gonna...get a coffee table?" she asked, trying not to be appalled. We all laughed, because we'd all just said we should use the Rubbermaid bin forever. Start a new trend.
Do you like the laundry hamper as side table? I think I'm really spearheading a new movement. Double your furniture's use. In fact, this hamper served as a table, a, you know, hamper, AND a dog gate. Edsel was beside himself to come in, but I didn't trust either dog to leave the snacks on the bin alone.
And before I have to hear it from you people, it was a dark rainy afternoon, and the flash on my iPhone hasn't worked in years. Ned got a new Samsung Galaxy S 5, which takes great pictures, but of course we can't figure out how to get those pictures to me.
Shut up. Did I ever say I was Pioneer Woman? I did not. I take the Pie out of Pioneer.
Anyway, eventually people wanted a tour, and Ned's old desk was in the middle of the hall upstairs like an asshole for Tall Boy to help move, so that was pretty. We all wedged past it and looked at half-done rooms. Although my room is coming along.
Right? It's, like, practically a room now, I think that condo is going. NedKitty has one, too, and this one is falling apart and takes up so much space. The cats are getting along well enough that I think they can share one condo. I mean, NedKitty's blog may say something different.
My point is, eventually everyone wanted a tour, so we walked all arond and headed to the back yard, which really is fabulous.
We were all admiring the St. Francis and Buddha sculpture back there, and everything, when I noticed Tallulah's conspicuous absence, Edsel was just delighted to be with all of us, but Lu..."Tallulah!" I called.
And right then I knew. I DASHED into the house, TORE over the laundry-hamper fence, STAMPEDED into the living room...
...to see Tallulah just finishing up the last of the snacks. She'd hoovered them all down in a minute.
And that is when I shot her.
P.S. And we forgot to get Tall Boy to help Ned move his desk.