Saturday, March 24, 2007


It seems like I always write about stuff after it happens. Plus I don't have pix from Brookie's Bowling B-day last night because altho I carried the cake box. I left the camera on the kitchen counter. Let's mix it up a bit--We'll play predict the weekend--(Pete is at the hospital (with the pics from last night on his phone!) and I am of course BORED. (I have decided however, that I am incapable of replacing the upstairs bathroom fan w/out supervisor-y assistance). So the big item on the agenda today is to hook up with Ambie and make him our official real estate agent. Formal prediction #1 Gonna meet him at Bombadils at 3. I should type up a wish list of the dreamhouse. That could be vaguely entertaining. Or I could cough up a lung. that would be a worthy waste of time.

Because last week we tortured them sooo horribly the kids get to drive the party bus this weekend-- so far their plans have included cartoons. I should go into the A2 farmer's market while they are entranced. But NOOO, I sit here playing with myspace and logging the monotony.

TOMORROW NIGHT! Melisant is having a fondue party! I've never had fondue; despite being alive in the '70s I have never dipped bread into bubbling cheese sauce with a pointy fork. I guess fondue was just too suave for rural Tuscola county. I am looking forward to that. I like Melisant VERY much. She can kick my ass at Scrabble. OH! okay here is Formal prediction #2. I will say something asinine that assures Joe/Eli looking at me askance. It's a thing we do. He tries to initiate a conversation then I say something totally off the wall and assure him I am insane. I don't know why I turn into a babbling idiot in front of Eli. Maybe because he is soo freaking cool. I love him. Maybe if I don't drink I could keep my collective shit together long enough to survive an evening w/out invoking my inner dipshit.--hmmm doubt it. I'm way good with Arianna--it's really just Joe. I get all fan girl-y I guess. well cross your fingers darling reader--help me not be a doofus.

No comments: