They delayed work due to inclement weather and
Dear Friends and Family in Michigan,
You would die laughing about this "weather."
This did not stop me, of course, from going right back to bed and spooning Tallulah, who was down with the return to slumber, as well. She never judges when one wants to have a few additional winks.
In the meantime, my pal Marianne came over last night, as was announced in yesterday's riveting post. Note the part where Ned cannot stop eating long enough to pose for the camera. Also, it looks like I made Ned drink salad dressing, when in fact I did not. Well. Much. It was kind of an initiation thing.
I made my one dish--lasagna--and Marianne and I got together first, had a little bonding and some making out, then Ned came over later and wondered if there was any food left. I will tell you one thing about Ned, and this is a news flash. He likes him some food.
Anyway, it was fun to watch them out-Southern each other. "Hi, here's my enthusiasm at meeting you!" "Hi! Here's my polite question to show interest!!" "Hey! That was a great question. Here is my funny Southern story that answers you and amuses you all at once."
Seriously, this is the most social place I've ever lived. Everyone in Michigan was extra super reserved, so I fit in THERE just like a puzzle piece. That one puzzle piece you try to cram cram cram in, cause it LOOKS like it SHOULD fit. Then in Seattle you had to act cool and dark about everything, and sort of earnestly politically correct, and in LA you had to convince everyone you had money.
Here people are just nice. And it's likely fake as all get-out, but I don't care. I'm shallow that way.
When Marianne got here, we hugged, then later she said, "Thanks for the hug when I got here. I know you didn't mean it." I was all, "I SO didn't mean it!" See? Reserved. Michigan. Also just cold fish in general.
Anyway, we had fun. Ned is still having a dreadful time with general being-a-grownup stuff, and when he called to see if I still wanted him to come meet Marianne he sounded so terribly drained and miserable. And you know who is an excellent middle-aged-manfriend? Is Ned. Because he came over anyway, and he was funny and delightful, and mostly had to hear us talk about girl things, although we did manage to not discuss our periods.
Wait. Yeah, we did. Good gravy. Poor Ned.
I guess I'd better go get ready to drive through this INCLEMENT WEATHER and go to fake work. I like how even when work is delayed, I find a way to waste time and show up six minutes late like I always do. Why don't they hire me, again?
Are you going to watch the Oscars this weekend? Ned and I thought about doing a Nedflix where we predict the winners, and don't forget we have a $900,000 bet on who wins Best Short. We are now even on our owing each other money: I owed him $900,000 when he said. "That waitress is going back to get us free dessert" on our anniversary, and I said, "I'll bet you $900,000 she is not" and then boom, she came out with those cream puffs.
But then we saw this French movie about a woman whose legs were bitten off by a whale, and who do you think selected THAT happy film, and Ned was CONVINCED the actress really didn't have legs. I was all, dude, I've SEEN HER IN OTHER THINGS. Do you think she's just that dedicated to her craft and had her legs bitten off for this one movie? So we bet $900,000 that she did or did not have legs. I just want to reiterate that usually Ned is really smart.
Oh, look! It's a miracle! She got her legs back! What's not a miracle is that copper eye shadow. "Let's make me look like I might have allergies." Pretty dress, though.
Anyway, let me know. About the Oscars. I kind of miss getting to call my ex-mother-in-law during the red carpet. She was always good for that crucial part of the night.
Okay, strapping the diamonds around my cankles and getting to work.
