Don't know if there will be any terminal waxing episodes, or if Amber will be able to control her bladder. I can tell you that if the first one happens, the second will be a definite "No."
Amber always has to be the center of attention.
Anyway, before I leave town, I had some things on my mind that only you, my understanding and faithful bloggy pals, could help me sort out. Also, I have clothes in the dryer, and I can't go to bed til they're done.
- Why isn't anyone commenting on blogs any more? It isn't just here; I've seen a definite dip in blog commentage lately. People, people, people -- don't you realize that without this give and take, back and forth, Captain and Tenille kind of communication, we're all just typing in the wind? You heard me: Typing in the wind. That's, like, the saddest thing I ever wrote.
- Last night, I snored so loud that not only did I wake myself up, I scared myself half to death. Let this be a warning to any sisters, mothers, or daughters who were hoping to share that great big master bedroom with me this weekend.
- My new DVR allows me to fast forward up to FIVE arrows. FIVE! Back in Vegas, our inferior DVR only allowed three arrows. I don't know what the arrows stand for, but I'm going with 'speed of light.' I don't dare push it all the way to five, though. I don't think I can handle that kind of power. What happens if it starts fast forwarding so fast, it forwards to future programs? What if I fast forward clear through shows that haven't even been invented yet? I'm not sure if that's some kind of FCC violation, or if NASA would get involved, but I have no intention of finding out.
- How come this latest generation of hackers is so smart, they can worm their way into your e-mail, bypassing all your super-secret access codes and stuff, and yet so stupid it doesn't occur to them that their universal translator has also been hacked? So when they think they're e-mailing your contacts' list with the dire prophecy "Fear And Tremble, Pathetic Techno-Fools, The Day of Reckoning is at Hand," it shows up in everyone's inbox reading "Me Find Happy Shoe Tree, Now You Eyebrow Boss-Boss" with a link to a ferret ranch in Duluth.
- While my husband and I were in North Carolina, our two youngest kids -- who are not toddlers, just to be clear; one is a high school graduate -- decided that a great way to use the emergency funds we left them for silly things like purchasing groceries and bribing border officials, was to go to the Hallowe'en store and purchase swords so they could choreograph and perform a sword fight scene. These otherwise intelligent and semi-rational teenagers arrived at this point, NOT by first just pretend-fighting, NOR by seeing the swords, buying them, and then gradually working up to the fight scene, BUT by saying to one another, "Hey! We should go to the store, buy two swords, and then make up a fight scene!"
- I now have a sampler, stitched and posted over the door, which says, "I don't know whose basement you'll be living in when you're 40, but it sure as hell won't be mine."
- I thought it was nicer than, "Bad news: You're going to die alone."
- So when I told my 21-year old about this epic case of almost paralyzing nerdiness -- expecting a little support in the whole, 'Geez, what goofy little geeks they were that weekend!' -- her response was, "WOW! I totally have to see that!"
- She's getting the sampler for Christmas.
- I need to lose 60 pounds by March without dieting or exercising or sawing off a limb or changing in any noticeable way, except the whole "60 pounds skinnier" one. Any suggestions? Oh, and it can't involve celery.
- Or Spandex.
- Or erasing any of the 480 episodes of 'Hoarders' I have on DVR. And since I can't fast forward because of the aforementioned space / time issues, I'm going to have to watch all of them with only three arrows' worth of commercial-skipping.
- So, in a manner of speaking, my plate is pretty full. You see my dilemma, don't you?
Look, it's either that or come fold my laundry. Do the math, peeps.