Today I needed a cheeseburger and a coke.
Not to worry, sometimes I just do.
I've been busy this week. I have mourned the lack of a flocked or white tree in my home anew, and I have kicked myself in the pants and told myself to get over it. I have bought and returned Christmas gifts (already). I have cleaned the house spiffy while listening to Ira Glass only to watch it be decidedly un-spiffed within scant minutes of my daughters arriving home.
I have downgraded to basic cable. Life without a DVR is hairy.
You heard it from me.
I have written no less than four blog posts this week and not posted any of them.
Because my spirit was restive and my heart
wasn't in the right place.
You know what my mom taught me: if you don't have anything nice to say, get on the internet.
(One of those blogs was about my mother-flocking unflocked tree. I wrote about how I sent Mr. V out alone and he came home with something that looked less like a tree and more like a well-intentioned but ultimately disastrous craft of mine. I wrote about how I decided to ignore the tree's patchy crooked visage and be grateful for my Mr. V.
Then I wrote how I call him Mr.V because it unsettles him to read his own name on the blog. I want you to know that so you don't go thinking I'm some hairy-legged feminist, even though right now THAT IS EXACTLY WHAT I AM).
On Monday I instant messaged my sister.
"Do you want to meet me at Ikea?" I said.
"I am actually at Ikea now," she replied. "But yes."
She drove home, put her kids down for naps, and drove me back to Socialist Paradise.
(I call it that because I don't want you to think I'm a socialist even thought right now THAT IS EXACTLY WHAT I AM.)
At Ikea I fulfilled Indy's wish for a box of puppies and our own wish for a topper of tree.
(Red. Felt. Star. 99 cents, thanks for asking)
Over free coffee and Swedish meatballs we discussed the important things like religious leanings and should I buy white frames and leave them white or paint them color.
It should come as no surprise to you that my sister is a Lutheran and I remain unaffiliated.
We like it that way. And that's ok.
She took the above picture of me and I like it so much I'm going to frame it and put it on my wall next to my bed. So every day I can arise and see myself being a nihilist. Don't ask me to explain why, I can't say why.
In a move calculated by my publicist to exponentially increase my street cred, I get to fly solo to the City of Angels on Monday night to attend the Jay-Z/Kanye West concert. (Solo flight. Concert with friend. She got the tickets free. She has connections. I can't say who.)
(She used to work for the Governator. That's all I'm saying)
What, you didn't know I was hard core?
Before that, I have to face a potluck.
Potluck, flight, concert, flight, drive, Disneyland, beach, Christmas.
That is all--wait.
I love you.
Over and out.
P.S: NO WAIT.
The blog address has changed. You can find me now at www.vesuviusathome.com .
This makes me inordinately pleased.
Please change your bookmarks and your links, but: not to worry.
tuttlebrewd.blogspot.com should still direct you back here.
P.P.S but seriously, change your bookmarks and your links. Wouldn't you rather see vesuviusathome.com up there in your address bar?
I sure would.