Time is UP for sending me your picture. I have a busy weekend ahead of me, so I know I won't be able to cut and paste all eleven frillion of your photos in the next few days. Also, am super-original using "frillion."
Ned left yesterday to take this ridiculous class, which lasts today, Saturday AND Sunday and runs from 7:30 a.m. till 9:00 p.m. with only ONE BREAK, for lunch. I mean, is it a class on withstanding torture? And who could CONCENTRATE that long? After five hours of listening to someone drone on, you know you're over it.
Last night, we tried to think of what we could remain interested in for 12.5 hours. Ned stampeded to girl parts, but said his attention would wane even about that after that many hours. I said makeup and puppies. I might possibly remain interested in makeup and puppies (or kittens) for that long. Now, you put me in a room of puppies AND kittens, okay yes. Thirteen hours later I'll look up and say, "Have you set the timer yet?"
Anyway, he is staying at a hotel, and it is drivable for someone who doesn't have to be there from seven fucking thirty till nine fucking o'clock, and they DO change the names of those times to include "fucking" for people who have to do ridiculous activities like that. Go look at your clock. The point is, I am driving there tonight and we'll have dinner at 9:30 just like we're sophisticated New Yorkers who aren't fed all day.
I mean, I'm SORRY. Is that even LEGAL, making people sit there and have zero dinner? Jesus Christ.
At any rate, I also have my (wait for it) statistics textbook to proofread this weekend, and on Sunday night my book club is coming to this house of hair, so not only do I have to cook something (I know), I also have to clean.
Oh! And let me tell you the story of what happened at daycare yesterday! I took the curs in just for the afternoon so they could have a little fun. Shake the dew off the lily, or whatever. (Once I fixed my friend Sleeping Beauty up with this guy I knew–premed!–and in the middle of the date he got up and said, "Time to shake the dew off the lily" and stampeded to the bathroom. You can see how Sleeping B snatched him right up and has spent forever with him.)
In the afternoon, I got them, and this kid takes their leashes and comes barrelling out with my insane dogs, jumping and pulling and stealing toys from the lobby displays and so on. I had to pay and sign us out and this other woman was waiting for HER dogs. "My dogs are jerks on the leash," I told the kid, which I THOUGHT would be clear: Wait till we're out of the lobby before bringing more dogs out. But no.
He brings this woman's blue Heeler and her Basset out, and my dogs offer a very welcoming and not-at-all horrifying, "BOWWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOW! Grrrrrrr WOWOWOWOWOWOW! WOW!"
Even though they'd played ALL DAY with these dogs, now that they were on a leash it was necessary to show their pimp hands. I wrestled them out the door, and they're all pulling and looking back, "WOWOWOWOW! You ded, fukker blu heeler fuk!" "Eeet edz short, bassit!"
We get in the car and that woman brings her dogs to HER car. "WROWROWORWrrrr! not eff wif us! weee yellow gang! you in trubbul nowz!"
And do you know what that woman did? That self-assured, terrible, awful woman? She made her dogs SIT right NEXT to her in the parking lot, unMOVING while we drove past, my yellow car full of yellow dogs in a rage. And she SMILED at me. All smug!
That bitch. She in trubbul now. Next time we see her, Lu's going PIT on her ass.
I guess I'll go get dressed for fake work. Casual Friday! Woooo! I was thinking those snow leopard pajamas. They're pretty casual. What say you?
Oh! And I'm making chili. Does anyone know how to do that? Cause I told book club I did. …Yeah.