Oh crap. I just accidentally erased about a bazillion comments. I AM SO SORRY. I was actually trying to delete the 12,789 spam comments built up and somehow wound up deleting REAL comments.
Anyway, don't think I hate you or anything weird. I'm just a luddite.
Isn't that a weird word, by the way? It sounds like LEAD, which is heavy, and LITE, which is, well, light. Right? Weird ...
So what's new with you? Did you release that book? Did you have that baby? Did you bail out your mother from jail? Did she look good in orange?
Me? Not much. Well that's a big fat lie. I've been cleaning the house like a mad woman, making it ready to sell. I've been buying flowers and everything. The other night I pricked my finger on a thorn. Doesn't that make me Sleeping Beauty? How come I can't sleep then? My finger hurts like a bugger, though.
The other day I was picking up frozen dog turds on the front lawn. I was using a cheap plastic shovel and the turds weren't cooperating. Especially this one turd. I almost had it on the shovel four times before I gave up and picked it up with my bare hands and threw it in the turd bag. It was a revelation, picking up that little turd. I'd never before in my life, in 52 years, ever picked up a turd with my bare hands. It wasn't so bad, either. Cold and lifeless at first, but seconds later the heat from my fingers already started to form a slick slipperiness. I'm thinking it wouldn't take much to thaw a frozen turd. Just warm it up in the palm of your hand and, bob's your uncle, it's ready to go.
By the way, I felt so, um, soiled after that. It was just like those clichéd rape scenes in the movies, where the woman goes in the shower and washes her skin off, or Lady MacBeth reaching for the Out Damned Spot Remover. That was me, washing my hands all day. I still look at my fingers suspiciously, sniffing them for any little turd residue. I fear I will never feel clean again.
What am I talking about... of course they're clean! I've been nuzzling up to the Windex bottle all freaking week. Four house showings in one week! That's pretty good, right? Now if only someone will buy the house, I'll get to go out west and be with my Dave. He arrived in Cold Lake tonight (Friday). He left Tuesday morning and drove 10 hours a day every day. He's settled into his room, he's got his tools in his new workplace and he's tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiired but happy to finally be here. This is one big country we live in.
Speaking of Windex, don't you love the dad in My Big Fat Greek Wedding? Remember? He thinks Windex is a cure for everything.
Toula Portokalos: [narrating] My dad believed in two things: That Greeks should educate non Greeks about being Greek and every ailment from psoriasis to poison ivy can be cured with Windex.
Toula Portokalos: I woke up with this huge zit this morning.
Ian Miller: Where?
Toula Portokalos: [points to spot on face] There.
Ian Miller: I had a huge zit this morning!
Toula Portokalos: Really? Where?
Ian Miller: [points to his face] Well, it was there, but it's gone now.
Toula Portokalos: Why?
Ian Miller: I put some Windex on it.