This is the bedroom in which we are staying.
The cubby in which I keep my hormones.
This is the Volvo in which I am driving.
Thank you, Holli!
This is what California looks like.
This is the husband with which I will be having the secret sex so the kids don't hear.
This is the state of affairs between the dogs.
This is the kind of thing you do in California, for fun.
(It's a long story.)
Also, this: I've finally figured it out. You know what Sundays are for? Well, for napping even though you haven't really done anything to warrant exhaustion, but no, for eating. Sundays are for eating. You know how you can fast all day and then you can pound down roast beef and a baked potato and green bean casserole, and then twenty minutes later after you've sworn you'll never eat again you can suddenly stomach an entire brownie sundae, and even though you are in pain for a full two hours after that, suddenly you really want a granola bar? (Make that two?) That's the thing about Sundays. Sundays are for suffering the first half of the day by sitting through church and regretting what you chose to wear and then stuffing an entire day's worth of food into about three hours. I'm pretty certain, anyway.
Related: Today after breaking our fast, we exchanged the Amen High Five. It is highly satisfying. You should try it.
The following is NOT an exaggeration: when my family went to see "Titanic," I (overly dramatic 14-year-old that I was) bawled so hard at the end that the people in front of me turned around to look. My tiny little teenage heart was so overcome by the tragedy of it all that I lay my head down on my lap and SOBBED. My mom reached over and patted my back and said, "Oh, honey, I'm sorry. I shouldn't take you to these movies." On the way home, I leaned my forehead against the car window and wished tearfully that Jim would just drive the car straight off the road and kill us all because life just wasn't worth living anymore. Jack was DEAD, people!!! What miserable excuse for a life could Rose possibly scrape together after that tearful goodbye on the raft, and why would it even be worth living since JACK WAS DEAD?!? Come to think of it, why couldn't Rose have scootched over a tad and shared the raft with Jack, huh? What's all this crap about making your true love cling to the edge and freeze?! WTF. I would have shared. And Jack would have been alive and well today if that'd been me. Pshaw.
ReplyDeleteAnd who WOULDN'T want to get it on in the back of a car in the bottom of a boat in the middle of the ocean? I TELL you!!! Every night in MY dreams, thank you very much!!! ;)
Wait--who was mean to you? Tell, tell, tell! Email it to me!
ReplyDeleteThanks for the update, lady! We miss you up here!
ReplyDeletei like the new ride and the pics of the dogs - made it seem like action taking place. enjoy cali! please tell "the holbs" hello.
ReplyDelete