I am sorry I neglected to pick up candy this year. However, the fact that my porch light is off tonight means I will not be answering my door, no matter how much pounding and yelling you do. Screaming "Hey, you got trick-or-treaters out here" makes me want to open the door even less.
I am nursing myself through my first bloody nose of the season, I am tired, I just got off work, and I am hiding from you. Go away.
Thanks, The Halloween Grinch
Seriously, does no one teach their kids Halloween porch light etiquette these days? For shame!
I just received a message in my junk folder from "Microsot" saying that my email ID was chosen for something. I deleted it, of course, but I couldn't help envisioning Microsot as a tiny drunkard.
By that, I mean she wrote it. She's been working on it for 15 years. It's about my dad's time in the hospital, in the 8 months between his accident and his death. I've read it, of course, in the process of proofreading it. I found it interesting because, even though I lived it, my memories of that time are mostly of playing with Charley in the hospital solarium, and being stuck in the fresh hell of a new junior high school. So this book gave me the chance to see that time through my mom's eyes, and everything she had to deal with at my dad's side.
It's finally published, available, out there! And we are all so very pleased! If you know anyone who enjoys reading books about normal families and life and tragedy, or if (heavens!) you are such a person yourself, please pass the word along!
On a related note, does anyone (Sofia, I'm looking at you) know anything about how libraries choose their books? If I were to buy a copy of this book and offer it to my local library, do you think they would take it and actually make it available on the shelf? Or would it just go into one of those library exchanges?
These people are RUINING their child. Hell, probably have already ruined her beyond repair. I don't feel sorry for them, because they've done it to themselves. But I feel sorry for their daughters. Both of them.
Un-frickin-believable.
Also, designer pacifiers? REALLY? They're just gonna get covered in baby spit! What the hell's the point??
Be sure to enlarge and read the copy on the Lysol ad. Your husband loves you so it's your fault your marriage is suffering...if only you'd doused your womanly areas with clean-smelling, non-caustic concentrated Lysol! Silly woman. Now go make me a sandwich.
Happy Independence Day! And happy Saturday, for the rest of you! :)
I have Monday off, so I'm very excited. The last 3 hours of work yesterday seemed to drag on and on, as half of the office was taking the day off.
I have some big plans for this weekend, most notably 1) Vacuum, 2) Homework, and 3) Veg.
I have the feeling 3 will be the easiest to accomplish.
Summer was up for quite a while last night, as some people in the neighborhood decided to start the celebration early by setting off bottle rockets and poppers in the street. She disappeared around 10:30; I believe she was huddled in the bathroom, as that seems to be where she goes when she's freaked. But when I woke this morning, she was stretched out beside me on her blanket, dead to the world.
She's going to be even more distressed tonight. Poor baby.