The guy behind me dropped his bag of peanuts. "Oh no, I lost my nuts!"
So, this one time, I thought I was totally, completely, and utterly psychic... but it turned out the Red Wings suck.
It makes more sense if you had been there last night.
Which, if you are jones_casey or zeuses_wild, you were.
(Picture it, Joe Louis Arena, shortly before the start of the third. "I still hold out hope. I say the Wings win 3-2, 2nd goal at 7:07 and 3rd goal at 13:13." And then they actually scored at 7:07, exactly, and I thought I was amazing for six minutes and six seconds until 13:13 went by and they did not score and in fact big fat LOST because of a silly penalty shot.)
But it was still awesome, especially considering that Jones graciously took to a game two people who could have turned out to be psychotic killers who just happen to have creative imaginations when it comes to writing blogs about "real life". But we totally aren't, and it was totally awesome, and we will totally have to do it again some time.
Totally.
We got home around 12:30 last night, and then to add insult to injury, I had to go to the doctor this morning. (Just a routine check-up, all levels and measures of things where they should be. B12: 470-something, iron: enough that I won't keel over or shrivel up and die, BP: 120/70, pulse: 64, love of doctor: through the roof.)
Then I kept trying to take a nap and getting sucked into retarded television instead, such as "Doomed to Die? 13 Most Shocking Hollywood Curses", which was very unsatisfying because I wanted to hear more about the fact that Poltergeist used real skeletons in that swimming pool scene. I finally gave up and instead agreed to set up my father's new printer.
In return for services rendered, my mom insisted that I open a Christmas gift early. If you know my mom, this happens every year. Here is what was in the bag.
First was a small step-stool, which seems like a horrible gift except that I need one because I don't HAVE one, and I end up balancing on furniture such as the rolling, swiveling dining chairs to change lightbulbs. This is clearly an embarrassing death waiting to happen.
Next was a set of tools, another thing I said I needed. Pretty and girly and decorated with flowers, yes, but there's a tape measure, and a utility knife, and a hammer, and scissors, and several screwdrivers, and a little holder for them all.
These seem like really crummy gifts, I know, but we are an odd family, my mom especially. Remember the drying rack from Christmas past? Remember the grill that is currently sitting next to the water heater in the basement, waiting for my lazy ass to get out the big ugly holiday plastic bag and wrap it? Then there was that year I asked for new pillows, and that other year I asked for bras.
But the best part... oh, my little monkeys, the absolute best part?
THEY GOT ME A ROOMBA.
For years, since the inception of the Roomba, I have wanted one. I have studied them, I have analyzed them, I became a Roomba expert, and now, I HAVE ONE!
I believe my exact words when I opened the bag were, "OH MY FUCKING GOD YOU GOT ME A ROOMBA NO WAY!"
And then I opened the box and read the manual cover to cover and plugged it in right away so it's charged and ready to go first thing tomorrow morning. Which for me means around noon.
The thing I am most looking forward to is closing the living room door, sitting on the couch, and watching it terrify the dog.
It makes more sense if you had been there last night.
Which, if you are jones_casey or zeuses_wild, you were.
(Picture it, Joe Louis Arena, shortly before the start of the third. "I still hold out hope. I say the Wings win 3-2, 2nd goal at 7:07 and 3rd goal at 13:13." And then they actually scored at 7:07, exactly, and I thought I was amazing for six minutes and six seconds until 13:13 went by and they did not score and in fact big fat LOST because of a silly penalty shot.)
But it was still awesome, especially considering that Jones graciously took to a game two people who could have turned out to be psychotic killers who just happen to have creative imaginations when it comes to writing blogs about "real life". But we totally aren't, and it was totally awesome, and we will totally have to do it again some time.
Totally.
We got home around 12:30 last night, and then to add insult to injury, I had to go to the doctor this morning. (Just a routine check-up, all levels and measures of things where they should be. B12: 470-something, iron: enough that I won't keel over or shrivel up and die, BP: 120/70, pulse: 64, love of doctor: through the roof.)
Then I kept trying to take a nap and getting sucked into retarded television instead, such as "Doomed to Die? 13 Most Shocking Hollywood Curses", which was very unsatisfying because I wanted to hear more about the fact that Poltergeist used real skeletons in that swimming pool scene. I finally gave up and instead agreed to set up my father's new printer.
In return for services rendered, my mom insisted that I open a Christmas gift early. If you know my mom, this happens every year. Here is what was in the bag.
First was a small step-stool, which seems like a horrible gift except that I need one because I don't HAVE one, and I end up balancing on furniture such as the rolling, swiveling dining chairs to change lightbulbs. This is clearly an embarrassing death waiting to happen.
Next was a set of tools, another thing I said I needed. Pretty and girly and decorated with flowers, yes, but there's a tape measure, and a utility knife, and a hammer, and scissors, and several screwdrivers, and a little holder for them all.
These seem like really crummy gifts, I know, but we are an odd family, my mom especially. Remember the drying rack from Christmas past? Remember the grill that is currently sitting next to the water heater in the basement, waiting for my lazy ass to get out the big ugly holiday plastic bag and wrap it? Then there was that year I asked for new pillows, and that other year I asked for bras.
But the best part... oh, my little monkeys, the absolute best part?
THEY GOT ME A ROOMBA.
For years, since the inception of the Roomba, I have wanted one. I have studied them, I have analyzed them, I became a Roomba expert, and now, I HAVE ONE!
I believe my exact words when I opened the bag were, "OH MY FUCKING GOD YOU GOT ME A ROOMBA NO WAY!"
And then I opened the box and read the manual cover to cover and plugged it in right away so it's charged and ready to go first thing tomorrow morning. Which for me means around noon.
The thing I am most looking forward to is closing the living room door, sitting on the couch, and watching it terrify the dog.