Current mood: insubordinate
Anything you desire
I will set at your feet
With a kiss in the air
For the gods to receive
~ "Don't Let Go" by Weezer
Grrrr. I hate call waiting. It is the world's rudest invention. Truly. It enables us as humans to tell another person, 'hey, your time is not important to me . . .instead, I am going to put you on hold so that I can see if I would rather talk to this person instead of you!" I admit, I am guilty of utilizing call waiting – but I seldom actually let the person go to talk to someone else. Still, I am just as rude as everyone else. It's why I think I am going to call Verizon and request they take the call waiting off my phone line.
This weekend, I have been ultra-sick. Influenza is a beating. I slept almost the entire weekend away while house-sitting for my parents. In fact, tonight I was going to head home and Mi Madre said I was to stay here tonight so that I could be taken care of. She even loaned me her favourite shirt to wear to work tomorrow since all I have here are two tank tops, a DMB shirt, and a Blues Traveler shirt – none of which are work-appropriate.
I did buy Marcus Aurelius a car wash this weekend, as he was pretty dirty and spotty from the recent rains. Plus I vacuumed the seats and car mats. Elizabeth had shed a bit in the backseat. Plus, his dash says that his oil life is down to 30% - meaning I will get to return to Honda soon and see 'Joe Cool. Yea!!! I miss my car salesman.
So, it appears that I am now the 'divorce expert' and that friends send their divorced friends to me for a pep talk of sorts. I think that my job is to convince the newly divorced that there is life to be had after our worlds fall apart. I mean, as the legend goes, 32 year old women who have been divorced TWICE are gurus and have achieved some sort of clarity and nirvana. Whatevs! Still, this weekend I shared my wisdom with a newly divorced human. And I think after a few more sessions with Dr. Genius, 'Red Eye' will be as good as new and ready to take on the world – or at least the local sports bar.
Even if nothing I said is the least bit helpful or enlightening, I made a new friend – and that is better than a stick in the eye!
Also, this weekend, while I was sleeping and praying to the gods that someone would come over and pet my hair while I was miserable and sick, an old friend stopped by and brought me apple juice, Diet Cherry Vanilla Dr. Pepper, and copies of 4 CDs I had been wanting. Good friends are hard to come by – and I am so blessed to have so many people I can call 'friends'. *insert cheesy music here*
I hate to digress – but back to the concept of phone etiquette – I would rather someone just say, "Hey, I am going to let you go now" instead of telling me that someone else is calling them. I'd rather think I am boring than think I am MORE boring than someone else. Ya know? Bloody Hell!
All that being said, at this very moment in time, I am actually very content. I am lying in my own bed (in my parents' second guest room, but still it is my antique bedroom set which inspires the décor). I love this bed. It is so comfy and beautiful and perfect. It almost makes me want to move back in with my parents, just so I can sleep in this bed every night instead of the twin bed I have at my own place. Not to say that the twin bed is not comfortable, it just isn't this comfortable. Plus, Ebie and I can sleep without pushing each other to the edge.
I am listening to Weezer at the moment and I still really like that Buddy Holly song. Even though I think my affection for the song stems from the amazing video – because I really like the show 'Happy Days'. Wow! Did I really just say that? Does anyone actually admit to really liking that show? I liked it better though, before Joanie was old enough to date. She and Chachi were a stupid story line. And I still want to know what ever happened to their older brother. He was there for a year, and then nothing. Not another word. It's like the little sister in "When Boy Meets World". She disappeared for two seasons, then returned, as if she had always been there. WTF! That does not happen in real life – it shouldn't happen in a sitcom.
On that note, I need to go – I am being bombarded by song lyrics via Google Talk and I have to catch up!
PERSONAL NOTE: Someone in the mood for some peppermint????
CONFIDENTIAL NOTE: I gave you the set. . . but not the match. Bring your 'A' game next time. I need a challenge!
