How come I never just say what day it is and get on with the update? Why with the clever titles all the time? Oh, yeah - cuz it's my blog and I can do what I want. Now I remember. Anyway, I have been unblogged this week while Jackson and I feel like complete ass, and we're still not out of the woods yet, with Jackson's cold having moved into BOTH eyes and giving him oodles of goop spewing from both, and mine having settled in my lungs. But I have crawled from my place of rest to blog a blog this fine Sunday, and so here is an update from the land of me.
The Netflix Curse
See, here's the problem. Netflix has unlimited online viewing of thousands of your favorite stupid, retarded, low-budget, poorly done films of which my husband is a devoted fan. And now that we have a router, his PC is online right along with mine...right next to me here in the ole' office. And while that is just jim-dandy-dee in and of itself, Netflix has made it just a wee bit unpleasant for anyone who has to sit next to Greg while he views his crap-film-du-juor. Today's masterpiece? Grindhouse: Planet Terror. The particular scene he keeps wanting me to watch centers around a girl whose right leg is a machine gun, and apparently she's doing some major damage with said leg-gun. And he is operating under the delusion that not only do I care, but that I would love to watch it...repeatedly. This never happened before Netflix. And he'll never cancel it now. He's seen more campy, awful horror flicks since this summer than he's seen his whole life, and shows like this make him giggle. Don't ask me why. I am thinking of making him put up nosy-neighbor books or one of those brown cardboard box things they used to put around my...uh, I mean other kids' desks who couldn't mind their own business in grade school. I'll do it, honey, I swear to god...
Some Family Business
Dad, it's time to review the rules again. The last time we went over the rules, my favorite was "Blind people don't shoot shotguns - it's one of the rules". That was a long time ago, and I was certain the list of rules had become more clear. Yet it seems I was wrong. So please be advised that there are two more rules to be considered and followed. Please know they are for your safety and health, and for my sanity.
I know your phone is not working, and they won't come until Monday, and you were out of cigarettes, but BLIND PEOPLE DO NOT HITCHHIKE. It's one of the rules.
I know you want to get that outlet in the back hall closet fixed, and I know you were sure you could just get it handled and make the neccessary hole yourself, but your assistant said there was quite a lot of blood around the place when she got there. BLIND PEOPLE DO NOT USE SAWS. It's one of the rules.
Turkey Day's A'Comin'
Short week coming up with preschool being off for Thanksgiving break starting Tuesday afternoon. We are "counting the sleeps" until Friday around here, when we will be "allowed" by Daddy to decorate the house with our Christmas cheer. He refuses to "let" me do it any sooner. Scrooge. We will do the usual turkey, etc. back home on Thursday, eat entirely too much and drive home entirely too late, and then Greg gets to work on Friday.
Gosh, am I boring tonight or what?
The hardest part of said movement sits behind me. It sits, whispering behind me, reminding me that it's still there every time I trip over a box or seven every time I walk by. And I have NO motivation to finish. To do the most tedious of tasks, and file it all. It may turn into TGPMo2009 at this rate. Oh, and I already have a new box of crap upstairs that needs sorting.
OK, hold the fucking phone.
Dear sweet merciful God - he just turned on a fucking DEVO concert video on Netflix, and giggled with joy as he started it, and looked at me with great pride and excitement as though I should want to join him. It's not even in English for fuck's sake - it's from Japan, I think.
I am SO moving my computer.
Hope your Thanksgiving is wonderful, full of great food, great family and great fun. For a deeper thought process on the whole idea of thankfulness, see here. It's from last year at Thanksgiving, and it still pretty much applies now. Happy Thanksgiving.