You guys are so sweet, thank you for all your flattering words yesterday. I swear I didn’t put up those pictures to get the flattery (but of course, a little flattery never hurts!).
For those of you who were curious, the pants I’ve been wearing almost exclusively since I came home from surgery (calm down, I wash ’em every second or third day. I don’t work up much of a sweat sitting on my butt watching House.) have blue reindeer with pink noses on them. Here’s a closeup of them:
I got those sleep pants from my sister several years ago when I met my family in Gatlinburg for Christmas (2006, I think?). I’d brought a pair of sleep pants with me, but they weren’t comfortable. My sister gave me these and told me to keep them. (I think. Maybe she didn’t tell me to keep them and she’s been waiting to get them back? Shhh, don’t tell her I still have them!)
At the time, they fit pretty well, but I lost more weight and now they are absolutely the best pants when I’m feeling bloated or just want to get into something in the evening that doesn’t touch me too much. Y’all know how much I hate clothes that touch me too much. They’re basically so big on me that they touch me at the waist and pretty much nowhere else at all. I’ve bought other sleep pants since then, hoping to find a pair for when these go to the big trash heap in the sky, but nothing else I’ve bought has even come close. I think these might be made of magic.
Things Which Have Recently Vexed Me.
1. Message from me to Virgin Mobile customer service:
Can you give me some idea of when the LG Optimus V will be back in stock? I’m DYING to get it, but coming back to the site several times a day and seeing that it’s out of stock is making me very, very sad.
Response from Virgin Mobile customer service:
Hello Robyn,
Thanks for contacting Virgin Mobile Customer Care.
We don’t have any confirmation the Optimus V phone is in stock, but once we have it I assure you that you won’t miss it. Stay tuned on our web site!
Well. Isn’t THAT super helpful. Fuckers. They flog the shit out of their new phone and the fact that YOU CAN GET UNLIMITED DATA, EMAIL, MESSAGING, WEB AND 300 MINUTES OF TALK TIME FOR $25 A MONTH WITH NO CONTRACT and then of-fucking-course the goddamn phone isn’t available. YES, there are other phones, but the LG Optimus V is the one I WANT. I hit that goddamn site at least 15 times a day to see if the phone is back in stock yet.
2. Saturday afternoon I sat down with my catalog from Burpee’s Seeds, and I painstakingly went through the fucking catalog and entered the number for each and every damn thing I wanted to order from them. And then I entered all my credit card and shipping info and hit “submit”, and THE GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKING SITE WENT DOWN.
I was beside myself. I cursed up a storm, I rebooted to see if the problem was with my computer, but when I logged back onto Burpee’s Seeds, my “cart” was empty.
MOTHERFUCKERS.
I threw a fit and stomped around, and then possibly threatened bodily violence against Fred if he laughed at me one more time (I’m lucky that he mostly finds my fit-throwing amusing, but when I am in the middle of throwing a fit, it makes me want to smother him). Then he promised that next weekend we can go to a seed and feed store in Huntsville, which calmed me down.
(But I think I’m still going to end up having to place an order at Burpee’s seeds, because there are a couple of particular kinds of tomatoes I want to buy, DAMNIT.)
3. Last week I decided that if I’m going to be wearing this compression garment on my head for the foreseeable future, I needed to get a second one, so I can wash the other one. So I placed an order for a new one, and paid extra for the 2-day shipping. And to my delight, it arrived the next day! Hoorah! Except when I opened it, it wasn’t the head compression garment I ordered. It was, instead, a damn BRA. And not even one that I could wear! I logged onto the web site where I’d placed the order and sent a snippy email to customer service telling them what had happened and even told them that I was “highly ticked off and I’d like to know what you’re going to do to make this right.” I got an email back within a couple of hours apologizing profusely and telling me that they’d send the correct item right out and would include a return envelope for the bra. This appeased me, and I thanked them. Then two days later I got the garment I ordered, and guess. fucking. what. It didn’t fit! This part wasn’t the company’s fault, it was mine for assuming that just because my neck measurement fit within the “small” guidelines, that my head would, too. Apparently I have a thin neck (which I never would have guessed in ten million years; it looks football player thick to me) and a great big round head.
(Great big round heads run in my family.)
So I ended up having to send the damn thing back. That poor company – they probably lost money on me.
4. Why the fuck is House considered such a wonderful diagnostician? He comes thisclose to killing every damn person he’s trying to diagnose. Also, I’ve watched about 30 episodes of the show in the past couple of weeks (it’s a good show for snoozing through, because you can fall asleep about 10 minutes in and then wake back up half an hour later and still figure out what’s going on), and Saturday afternoon I was sitting through another episode. I had JUST told Fred that I’d heard House suggest Amyloidosis at least three times in the recent 10 or so episodes I’d watched, and just after I said that, he suggested it again.
Alright, Universe, I get it! I’ve got Amyloidosis! Geez. Hit me over the head with a brick, whydontcha.
Also, I know that House said “It’s never lupus” in one of the first seasons, but in one episode I watched last week, he suggested lupus as a possibility, and he wasn’t joking around about it.
Also also, I am no fan of Foreman (BOR-RING), and I think Olivia Wilde (Thirteen), who is absolutely gorgeous, could do better.
5. After watching (ie, snoozing through) a million cooking shows during my first week of recovery, I’ve gotta say that it is FAR beyond time for cooking show hosts to stop referring to every single dish they make as “gorgeous” and “beautiful.” Tasty? Yes. Yummy? Okay. Refreshing? Perhaps. But I’ve seen the food you’re cooking, ladies, and it’s not that pretty. Also, I could do without the shot at the end where the cooking host takes a bite of whatever they cooked and starts moaning like Meg Ryan in the deli in When Harry Met Sally. It makes me want to jump through the TV screen and start throttling.
I’m sure there’s more, but that’ll do for now.
Please note the piece of paper with the date (March 4th) on it behind Princess Monkeybutt’s head. I took that intending to snap a shot of her every time she sleeps like that, and she hasn’t done it since. She loves to thwart me, that brat.
It’s a rough life.
There’s always a cat sleeping on that scratcher. It’s almost always either Joe Bob (as seen above) or Spanky. I guess it must be super comfy! It usually sits next to my desk, but they often knock it across the room. Maybe they like the fragrance of Fred’s dirty sneakers.
The cats have really enjoyed having access to the foster room. I’ve probably mentioned that it’s the warmest room in the house when the sun is shining. In the middle of the day, when I think “Where’d all the cats go?!”, that’s usually where several of them are hanging out.
Maxi, keeping an eye on things.
Previously
2010: Fred smiled. “Obviously he thought you were a GILF.”
2009: No entry.
2008: No entry.
2007: No entry.
2006: Not that I downloaded them illegally, because I would NEVER.
2005: “This is good!” he said. “Old people always know where the good food is!”
2004: That guy, I thought to myself, looks an AWFUL lot like Larry the Cable Guy.
2003: No entry.
2002: Know what made me laugh so hard I cried, and even now when I think about it, I grin and giggle involuntarily? The idea of a cat using the word “manipulate.”
2001: It’s a comfortable pattern for me.
2000: No entry.