Oh Just Some Stuff

Boy has it been a long time, yes it has. I'm no longer committed to this blog, so every post from now on will start with my recognizing that this post is an anomaly and I feel bad that I have nothing interesting to say anymore. As the years go by, my boring life is now so boring I can't even make stuff up to feel like interesting things are happening. Mostly I think about finding the perfect boots, but that's not going to happen, which is good, because then there would be truly nothing to think about.

Herewith some recent news items that are quite significant if you have nothing better to do for the next minute of your life:

A Colombian woman in the husband's class opened a fortune cookie during their annual "pot luck but no turkey please" Thanksgiving feast and shouted angrily, "There's paper in mine!"

The husband seems to have a bunch of bites (but really it's hard to tell due to his being fairly mole-y by nature) and has spent the last 3 1/2 hours (I am not exaggerating, the man is very focused) hunting for bed bugs. He hasn't found any, which is why I'm brave enough to write this. He did gather a whole bunch of gross shit on pieces of tape that we gazed at through a variety of magnifiers, loops and light tables, comparing the teensy crap to photos in books and websites. All are completely unidentifiable, but definitely none are bed bugs, which is all that matters. He then spent the next hour (so far, it's not over) vacuuming thoroughly in and around the bed. He is vacuuming inside the bedside books, photo albums and magazines (there are a lot) as I write this.

A man has been sleeping in the roof vestibule the past couple of nights. He has a white down blanket and a bottle of red wine.

About a week ago a slightly crazy woman got locked out of her apartment (or wandered into our hallway from somewhere else) and sat there for hours until she peed herself silly. After she left, a neighbor covered the area in baking soda, thankfully. The last guy who did that didn't make it through the ordeal alive. Sad.

I got my hair cut, so if you don't recognize me, it's because I left about 30 pounds of hair on Michael's floor. According to co-workers I look like a flapper. Or maybe they said call girl. Not sure what they said, I was too busy basking in the compliments about how beautiful and young I look.

Hope you are getting crazy good deals during this patriotic shopping season, which will keep the economy humming, because if it's good for giant stores and hoarders, it's good for Jesus. Or something like that.