Emigrant Direct so we can earn a wee bit of interest on our honeymoon fund.
We’re too wild for you, aren’t we?
Happy anniversary, baby. I love you!
* * *
For the record, it did occur to me to get out of bed, get dressed, and
accompany Fred. Only, it didn’t occur to me until after he’d left the house. I’m not real quick on the draw, you know.
* * *
The spud went to Homecoming on Saturday. I didn’t spring for a manicure – she’s pretty good at doing her own manicures, anyway, a lot better than I ever was – but I did spring to have her hair professionally done in an updo. It was $35 (plus tip), but I think it was worth it:
I think it looks pretty adorable.
She left the house around 6:30, went to her boyfriend’s house, posed for pictures for his parents, brought him back here, posed for pictures for us (I took exactly two, because I’m a dumbass, and the first one came out blurry, and the second one looks oddly crooked. I’m an idiot. Luckily they had their picture done by the professional photographer at the dance, so we’ll have a decent picture.), then they went and got something to eat, and went to the dance.
Does she look amazingly grown-up, or what?
She was home around 12:30 with no mishaps, and said that she had a really good time.
Muh BAYBEE is growin’ UP! WAHHHH!
* * *
Fred and the spud hit a few flea markets yesterday, because Fred could not spend an entire day in the house without losing his mind if you gave him a million bucks to do so. While they were shopping, Fred became overcome with the Halloween spirit and went ALL OUT on Halloween decorations:
I’m sure we’ll win the neighborhood Halloween decorations competition this year! Heh.
* * *
I went to Sam’s this morning. By “this morning” I mean 11:30, which as we all know is
really 12:30, and thus in the middle of the lunch rush.
I swear to god the median age in there must have been somewhere in the area of 107. I’ve never ever seen so many slow-moving old people, and so many people in those little electric carts. It’s maddening, when you just want to go in and grab some water and Splenda, and get the hell out of there, and people keep STOPPING directly in your way, only they’re old so you can’t bellow “MOVE YOUR ASS, Grandma!” because, y’know, that’s probably someone’s GRANDMA and I just can’t be an ass to old people.
Even though some of them deserve it.
I think what I need to do, at the ripe old age of 38, is start taking classes that will allow me to be spry and limber when I’m 107, and people will see me coming and groan “Oh, CRAP, here comes another little old lady, who’s going to mosey along like she’s got all the time in the world!”, only I’ll be moving so fast that they’ll stop and stare at me in awe and then say to each other “Good GOD, did you see that old lady? She was SERIOUSLY spry and limber. Strong, too. She didn’t need help getting the 15-pack of 1-liter bottles down off the shelf!”
* * *
Currently
reading:
A Million Little Pieces, by James Frey. Y’all weren’t wrong – it’s really a pretty good book if you can get past the writing style.
(Which reminds me a little of my own writing style. The long-ass run-on sentences, anyway.)
It makes me want to mimic the writing style for an entry. You have been warned. Heh.
Finished yesterday:
My Horizontal Life, by Chelsea Handler. She’s FUNNY, I laughed out loud several times when I was reading this book. Of course, if frank talk of one-night stands offends you, you’ll want to give it a miss, but I enjoyed it a great deal.
* * *
There’s a photo essay up over
here, describing exactly how very tiring it is to be a kitty in the And3rson household.
I think Miz Poo and Mister Boogers have more fun in the kitten room than the kittens do.
Mister Boogers and Sugarbutt discuss just WHO that cube toy belongs to. Mister Boogers thinks it’s his (he thinks EVERYTHING is his), but Sugarbutt disagrees.
* * *
Previously
2004: Happy anniversary, you walnut-farting motherfucker.
2003: There’s nothing like a good second marriage to show you how bad the first one really was.
2002: He even sent me flowers.
2001: And they said it’d never last.
2000: And happy anniversary to Fred, who married me two years ago tonight, which was the smartest thing he’s ever done.
1999: “We don’t have to get married. We could just wait ’til next year. Shouldn’t we get married on the anniversary of the day we met? That would be more romantic!”]]>