Things could be worse. I could be Sting.

I couldn't post yesterday because I wasn't home. I was at the hotel, and then once we checked out, I was making myself scarce so that I didn't see Marvin's big moving day.

Oooo, but we went to an estate sale and I got another painting! This one was five dollars! I know! I'm am COLLECTING the fine art lately.

It was an old lady house, where the estate sale was, and she was one of those old people who take incredibly good care of all her things. As opposed to me, who had to replace her four-year-old vacuum cleaner yesterday for no apparent reason. It just kept spitting out dirt instead of sucking it in. I got a new one via Bank of Mom.

Anyway, I bought her lovely brown fancy three-quarter-length camel coat ($5) (I have no idea why her camel was chilly) (bah!) and her magnolia painting (the old lady's. Not mom's) (mom tends to go for sort of hippie things and not old lady three-quarter-length coats with cool buttons, which is a shame because it would cut down on my estate sale spending-of-Abes):

which goes nicely with the magnolia paint-by-numbers I got on eBay:

Oh, my house is gonna be all girly, all the time now.

Also too, while we were there, mom got me this pretty jar:

It looks good on my hutch. Hey, did you know I have a hutch? I recently spent a minute or two painting it. Were you aware?

I asked at the counter where you pay what the old lady's name had been, and her name was Lucy. So, thanks, Lucy, for your jar and coat and painting. I'm certain I will take terrible care of your items. Rest in peace, girl.

After that we went to lunch and shopped some more, but I started to feel twingy and dizzy because I just had, you know, surgery, so I ended up coming home and seeing Marvin move the very last of his stuff.

But it was fine. My kitties were already gone–which makes me want to hang myself from the attic rafters–and Marvin forgot Winston's little bed, which means he has to come back because I cannot stand the thought of Winnie without his bed. But we were civil and it was without drama and in fact my neighbor Peg was here for the whole thing so we could hardly have been hurling dishes at each other.

Peg brought over dinner. She made a wonderful beef stroganoff and also apples and onions, which I didn't even know you could cook together but you can and man Polly, is that delish. We had crescent rolls and cheesecake and I'm supposed to be gettin' all cute and single but I just keep getting more roly-poly, as people keep feeding me.

We sat at the table and Peg redecorated my house in her mind. I told her I wanted shades instead of my curtains, and then she said, "Oh, but you can have both. Keep those curtains."

"…Okay," I said, not really liking my curtains. "I want sort of scalloped blinds," I told her.

"WITH THOSE CURTAINS?!" she yelled.


Oh! Also, too, I have gotten flowers and such from people who feel bad for me, and I wanted to show you what Sleeping Beauty sent me:

She sent me a lawn statue of my mother. Isn't it lifelike?

No. It's a cute watering can with bulbs inside! I can keep them inside or I can plant them! Isn't that so clever? I can't decide. Force or plant? Force or plant?

And Pal from MA sent me happy pink flowers! You too can get gifts from your friends. Just lose your innards, pets, and husband in one day! It's easy!

Oh, and speaking of the unfairness of life, as you know, if you read my last post, and why didn't you, I got a stuffed cat gift from my friend Laurie:

I had it with me at the hotel, and when we got back to our room the other night, my mother was irritated because I had candy on my pillow and she didn't.

My candied pillow.

Mom's empty sugar-free pillow.

Finally we figured out that the maid must have thought I was a kid, because there was a stuffed animal in my bed. She did not know I was a berserk 45-year-old. teeeeeee! I get candy because I'm Delta Dawn!

So, there it is. I'm 45, separated, unemployed, chunky, I live with one murderous cat with a cyst, and I have Ronald McDonald hair. But somehow I'm fine with all that. Things could be worse. I could be Sting. (Ozzy Osbourne said that once and I thought it was the funniest thing I ever heard. No one but me thinks it's funny. What is WRONG with you people?) I could have had to see Rush last night, which Marvin did. I could be Betty Broderick and feel all angry. I could be that Kate plus 8 chick. You know, just in general.

I am hopeful. I feel there are sugar-pillow days ahead for me, if I just don't force the bulbs. You know?


106 thoughts on “Things could be worse. I could be Sting.

  1. But, Dana, I don’t know how June would be able to tell your mom from my mom, at the estate sale…they may be twins or a long lost last cousin to June’s mom.
    My estate can’t get hear soon enough so I can sell her. heeeee.
    Only kidding,love you mom. Only partly kidding,anyway.Anyone want to rent a mom cheap,yes, she cooks. She used to cook yummy things…now she mainly cooks in large quantity.
    Pal, you know we appreciate you so much for the friend that you are to June


  2. Furry, I think we tend to view June and Marvin’s relationship based on our own experience. In my case, we “leaked” out of each other’s life at about the same speed and it gave me more time to come to grips with it and to make plans.


  3. Dana, you are killing me, as I have heard the following this weekend:
    Your towels always look dingy to me.
    You know where that lamp would look better?
    Do you know youre supposed to clean your vacuum filter?
    You know where that lamp would look better?
    You want to help me move that lamp?


  4. First you always make me laugh.
    Random thoughts.
    I hope Lucy’s camel was adopted by someone who has a nice warm home and can keep him indoors – since you now have his coat.
    Nice magnolia. And, pretty pink jar.
    They make life sized Mom statues?
    Wow. If you come across one of my mom at an estate sale, pick her up for me, will ya? (She’s a little heavy – call a friend or two and life with your legs.)
    How can you tell it’s her?
    She’ have a motion sensor and when you walk by her she’ll say,
    “Isn’t it stuffy in here?
    I can smell the litterbox.
    You know that plant stand would look better over there.
    So, are you seeing anyone?
    Well, seems you don’t really know much about him – he would be a serial killer. Leave a message on my machine telling me where your meeting him in case something happens.”
    (Miss you Mom.)
    Oh, and enjoy the candy on your pillow!


Comments are closed.