Before you know it, you're the crazy cat lady in the scary house

I Mean, Why Be All Eloquent And Stuff?

December 11, 2003 ... 11:26 p.m.

Bootsie: �Hi, Bitter Betty. Can Eibisch come out and play?�

I�ve got most of my Christmas wrapping and shopping done. Can I just say I rock the gift giving season? Oh, yeah I do. I shop all year long, I eBay, I go to auctions. I always try to find something �So-and-so� has an interest in and give it a little twist.

I�m sorry I can�t go into further detail, but Bootsie now knows about this site. And I�ve decided that�s okay. She doesn�t read it much, but I still don�t want to give her gift away.

I�m also one of those people who will go into debt to give you a great gift and the expression on your face really is all the return I need.

Do you hate me now?

And I�m serious. I�ll cook for a family or church thing and I�ll get the warm-fuzzies when people ask for the recipe. It gives me a special sense of pride. Or accomplishment. Yes, because I�m not proud in a boastful-go me kind of way. I just get so happy that something I�ve done has brought someone else a little joy or some warm-fuzzies of their own.

I�m such a sap.

I can hardly wait until I have a family of my own to give things to/do things for. I mean, you know, IF I have a family of my own. I mean, I already have a family. I mean a husband and children of my own.

Yeah. I either need less caffeine or some more.

Hee! Burton! Hee! SURPRISE! And what a jerk. �Lill, you broke our alliance--you live with that...� Hey, jackass! One--you voted for her, YOU broke it. And two? You got outwitted. Suck it up, tough guy.

Hee! Did you see Rupert?

Egads, I like this show WAY too much.

Mom broke her middle finger snapping twigs. Yeah. I don�t know, either. It�s all swollen and bruised and she keeps flipping me off with it.

Because my mom is actually 14.

She absolutely refuses to go to the hospital, because the way they�d set it might make her miss work which she can�t afford. And the deductible for her insurance would be more than x-rays and setting it. I�m afraid it will not heal right and she�ll never be able to use it again. But what do I know?

In other medical news, my Imuran is not covered by insurance. This is the medicine that will eventually allow me to take a low dose of Prednisone. It's also the medicine that people take after kidney transplants as anti-rejection medication. This is the medicine that I cannot take while pregnant (stop laughing). This is the medicine that gives me a crushing headache and makes me puke up stuff I ate in high school.

At this point, I am seriously beginning to wonder if I really like my liver all that much.

I also slipped as I got out of the tub this morning. Me and bathtubs? Not so friendly. Anyway, my tub is a huge, deep whirlpool/hot tub ... tub. I think a family of gypsies could live quite comfortably in my bathtub.

So I get out over the side and, as I begin to slip, remember that there is no rug or towel or anything on the slippery floor.

I am a genius--GENIUS--I tell you!

Oddly, I managed not to wrench my knee. I am so good. But I scraped my back on the wall/partition thingy that tub sits in. Um. Ow. Now my back has this huge scrape and it is one massive bruise from my waist to my shoulder blade.

*bangs head on keyboard*

I can�t win for losing, people

And, as an added bonus, the Prednisone makes me bruise easily.

Because I needed help in that department. I just don't wound myself enough.

Cripes.

Does anybody remember that U of Iowa writing class and the assignment I was going to post where I had to write a letter to the future Mr. Eibisch? Still haven�t gotten it back. I don�t think I did a very good job on it, either.

I felt a little hinky writing it.

I don�t really like to think of an ideal guy. I mean, I like to daydream about my future, my hypothetical kids or that the future Mr. Eibisch is an absolutely adorable brunette.

But then I�m all--what if he�s blond? And I�m only thinking brunette? And I totally missed him? And, if I didn�t miss him, what if I was disappointed and hurt his feelings and then he always felt I would rather have married a brunette and so he dyed his hair dark and had a crazy accident with the Clairol dye and a suspect timer and all his hair fell out and he was so embarrassed and bought a brown wig that looked awful because he was a natural blond and the brown did nothing for his complexion and he wore it anyway because he thought I liked it because how do you tell someone who lost all their hair in a freak dye-job incident that you were fine with the blond and bald guys are sexy, look at Billy Zane and then he ran out to get his beloved wife burritos one night and stepped off the curb and a gust of wind blew his wig into his eyes and he got hit by a bus he didn�t see coming because, you know, loose wig and all and he lived and he was taken to the hospital and was x-rayed and his leg was broken and the doctor set it and put a cast on it and he was severely allergic to plaster of Paris and before they could cut the cast off he went into cardiac arrest and died? What if that happened? Hmm? How do I live with myself? Oh, the humanity! JUST BECAUSE I LIKE BRUNETTES!

And, lord, what if he had a perm?

Gah. I am so shallow.

But then I realize that I�m 26. And I live with my mom. And Cast Boy ain't exactly knocking down my door.

Also, I may have just answered my more or less caffeine question.

Currently Reading: The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd

Listening To: =w=
...I'm a lot like you so please, hello, I'm here, I'm waiting....

Have a happy day!

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