Tallulah has decided that Blu is her important new toy. She keeps picking it up and parading around with it, while Edsel moans and whines and growls and pickets and is trying to introduce a proposition banning this sort of behavior. Proposition 2, Lu With Blu.
Last night I dragged all the extra pieces of lattice off the back porch, and organized the chopped wood back there--yes, it needed organizing--and moved chairs around and so on in the 18-degree weather, and probably no one will even see our back porch during our party.
Plus, I swept floors and washed the dog beds, and it turns out the beds need to be hung to dry, so last night poor Eds and Talu and their Blu fight had to sleep on the foam that goes on the inside. Probably someone should call child protective services or something. Poor foam-sleeping dogs.
I also made chili last night, because I am the world's best girlfriend. Ned and I had big plans to have a lovely evening, just the two of us, because all week we had shit to do. Tonight the Bitchy Resting Face Alexes are coming to help me make my costume for my party--
--and by the way, the term is "bitchy resting face." Everyone keeps calling it resting bitch face, which makes no sense at all. Resting bitch face would mean your face is bitchy and it's lying down right now. Bitchy resting face means when you aren't smiling or talking, you look bitchy.
Maybe I should do, like, a tutorial podcast or something. A YouTube veeeedeo.
The point is, Bitching Face Resters Alex and Alex are coming, then tomorrow Ned and I will be desperately cleaning the house, although he may not know this is in the cards. Also, we have to get food and I still don't know what Ima serve. I looked on Pinterest for food ideas for a party, and it was all "Individual pastry puffs filled with homemade blackberry jam, with an individual sugar-rolled blackberry atop each pastry!"
So last night was our only night to enjoy each other's company, and then he got home and I was a bitch. I was Facey Resty Bitch.
I made a goddamn playlist for the party, using my goddamn iTunes, and you can tell already this went well, right? I put on all songs about characters. Brandy, You're a Fine Girl. Lola, by the Kinks. Raspberry Beret, both Prince's and Warren Zevon's versions.
I had it all set up, and when I went to click a song to enjoy it? The whole playlist grayed out. It went gray. And I couldn't play anything.
By the time Ned came home, I was on hold to AppleCare. AGAIN. How many evenings and weekends do I have to spend on hold for hours with these people? "Did you try Googling the problem?" asked Ned, and at this point I was like the wicked queen in Snow White.
"OF COuRSE I'VE GOOGLED IT," I said, with a lowercase u.
When someone finally answered at Apple ("Why can't they ever answer their phone?" asked Ned, like they're at home letting it ring) and had to tell the guy three times what was wrong ("Okay, so you need a battery for your phone?") [insert facey rest bitching here], they finally told me they'd help me if I paid them $30.
To which I said puff this.
So our romantic evening was really more me grousing over my phone, and once again I hate everything.