Once and Again Monday night and watched it last night, and here’s what I don’t get – why wasn’t it a possibility for Rick to go to Australia and Lily to stay at home and do her syndication thing? It was only nine months, which would be hard, but if the guy having the hotel built was willing to fly the entire family over there and put them up in a house, I’m sure he would have been willing to fly Rick or Lily back and forth every few weeks.
Of course, the surprise at the end put a different spin on it, I guess. I’m going to miss that show.
So, something ODD happened yesterday, and if I end up dead in a few days, y’all will have some idea who to look for, okay?
Fred and I were sitting in front of our respective computers around 3:00, when I glanced up and saw a light blue minivan (sorry, didn’t get the license plate number, but it was light blue. And a minivan. Pass that along to the police investigators, won’t you?) driving down the street toward our house. I didn’t think much of it, because we live – I think I’ve mentioned this 15 times in the last week – at the end of a cul-de-sac, and a large number of people find it necessary to drive down the street, turn around in front of our house, and drive back from whence they came. When I say a large number, I mean in the area of 15 cars or SUVs a day, so it’s not unusual to see an unfamiliar vehicle drive down the street.
So I went back to what I was doing, and glanced up a moment later to see the minivan (light blue. Kind of a smoky blue. And a Chevy, I think. Or a Pontiac? Oh, I’m hopeless when it comes to identifying the make or model of a car. But it was probably less than 5 years old, officer) pulling into our driveway.
This is an unusual occurrence (okay, JEEZUS CHRIST, why does EVERY FUCKING WEB PAGE IN EXISTENCE have fucking pop-up windows, someone tell me? If I’m going to Merriam-Webster to look up the correct spelling of "occurrence", I don’t want your stupid fucking pop-up trying to sell me some cd by some Ashanti person, okay? In fact, I’ll be sure to go out of my way to avoid anything by that name from here on out for the rest of my life, motherfuckers), because the only vehicles pulling into our driveway on a regular basis would be mine and Fred’s, and from time to time his father and stepmother’s truck. Light blue minivan? Never seen it before.
"Huh." I said to Fred. "A light blue minivan (got that? light blue!) just pulled into our driveway, and someone’s coming to the door."
A nicely dressed black man – shirt and tie nice, not suit nice, and holding a bottle of Tide laundry detergent – rang the doorbell.
"All yours!" I said to Fred, and hid around the corner.
I don’t answer the door, have I mentioned? Except for this previous Sunday, which I’ll cover after I’m through telling this particular story.
Anyway, Fred opened the door, there was some conversation, and finally Fred said "Nope, sorry," and shut the door.
Come to find out, the guy CLAIMED he was selling cleaning supplies and wanted to come in and demonstrate them for us.
"We already use Tide," Fred told the guy, probably hoping the guy would hand over the bottle and we’d be all set for another 100 loads o’ laundry.
(Side note: Does anyone actually use the recommended measurement of laundry detergent? ‘Cause I don’t, I use about half of what they suggest, and my clothes always come clean)
The guy tried to get pushy about coming in to demonstrate other products, until Fred said he wasn’t feeling well because he was recovering from surgery (and lifted his shirt to flash his goop-filled drains at the guy), which is when the guy gave up and left. He got in his minivan (there was a second person in the vehicle with him, but aside from the fact that the second person was likely male, I have no further details, officer) and drove away.
To me, this is REALLY odd because 1. he drove directly to our house and didn’t stop at any other houses in the neighborhood and 2. Are there still door-to-door cleaning supply salesmen? I think NOT.
Know what I’m thinking? Psycho stalker, desperate to come into the house, rape and rob us and leave us for dead, stealing the computers and the big-screen TV on the way out. Bastards. If the updates stop coming, I expect y’all to call the cops.
Speaking of evil people at the door, Fred and I were upstairs hanging out Sunday afternoon, when the doorbell rang. We weren’t expecting company, so I went to the study and looked down to see if there were any cars in the driveway. There weren’t, and I thought about not answering the door, but if it were one of the neighbors coming by to say "I see your husband is walking oddly and wearing a girdle. Everything okay?", they’d have seen both Jeeps in the driveway and known we were home.
"Go answer the door," I told the spud. Which was stupid, because when she did, the people at the door asked if her parents were home.
She called me, and since Fred was still moving rather slowly, I couldn’t make HIM go talk to whomever it was (plus, he was dressed for comfort rather than fashion), so I walked grumpily down the stairs.
I opened the door to be faced with a couple of young teenagers, a boy and a girl. The boy greeted me and held out a pamphlet. I glanced down at it, saw "Church of Christ" in big, bold letters, and got annoyed to the extreme.
"Nope! Sorry!" I growled, and slammed the door in their little cherub faces. They’re lucky I didn’t swear at them, damnit.
I’m so going to hell.
But, it’s Nance‘s fault! She told me last week that I need to learn to be more of a bitch.
Mission accomplished.
Miz Poo is NOT a fan of the vacuum cleaner.
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04/17/2002