Currently I have the personality of a MOP because GUESS WHAT, another MIGRAINE and I basically hate self and wish to die. I finished that Prednisone I was taking, which, hooray, I can sleep again and speak at a regular slow-ish pace and not raise the roof, literally, and so forth, but now, yay. Migraines are back. Holy CATS, it makes me mad.
So, yeah. Thank heavens you went to all the trouble to be one of the 16% checking in on a Saturday, cause WOW, what a personality on June. Look at the big personality on June.
It is a shame I can't say "personality" one more time. You know what else I have a lot of today? Wessonality.
Some idiot sat there and thought of that ad campaign. Then pitched it to his coworkers. "Say! Why don't we say the chicken's got Wessonality?" And his coworkers were all, "Yeah! That's the ticket!"
How late at night do you think that was?
So, in other news, we had us an ice kind of a thing here in North Carolina. I got up yesterday morning, as I am wont to do, and as I headed to fake work I noted MOTHER OF GOD IT'S COLD, which really, it usually isn't here. Oh, it'll be in the 30s sometimes, but that's spring where I grew up. Yesterday? 24. TWENTY-FOUR.
Then after maybe an hour at work, people got all excited cause it was…something-ing out there. Kind of snowing, kind of raining. Kind of FREEZING, is what it was doing. When I went home for lunch, I had to pull over twice to scrape my windshield, because it kept icing over while I drove. That wasn't jarring or anything.
The good news is they let us out at 2:30, because The South. Where we panic over every weather incident. So I went home with the zinc drops and Emergen-C my boss gave me, which by the way SEEM TO HAVE WORKED LIKE DEMONS, and I watched house-buying shows on HGTV and napped on and off all afternoon.*
People have the worst taste in houses. I have no desire to look at everyone watching TV in some great room while I slave away in a kitchen with granite countertops. "Oh, I like how it's open to the other rooms," people always say. Why is this a good thing? We used to have this concept. It was called "rooms." Why don't we all just live in a big dome, we're so dying to see what everyone else is up to in the rest of the house.
Am I alone in this? I also have no desire to have an entryway that is 90 feet tall. Hi, come on in. I live in a lobby.
You know what I would like to have one day? Other than an actual job? Is a Cape Cod type of house. Back when I was young, so, so long ago, I just wanted my own apartment, with no roommates. Something small, but with character. Then I got that, and I met Marvin and all we wanted was a house. Nothing fancy, maybe just something from the '50s, with, you know, character.
Character is a big thing with me and my dwellings.
It took us TEN YEARS of marriage, but we finally got it, after realizing you cannot HAVE a small cute house in LA without being a small cute millionaire.
Now five years I been living here and I'm all, Wouldn't a Cape Cod be nice. Is it always going to be like this? Will I ever be satisfied? When I get my Cape Cod am I gonna wish for a house built in 1997 with an open floor plan?
What HAPPENED to character in houses? I think it went the way of "big." All of a sudden everyone needs big. And why? So you can all be in different rooms checking your smartphones?
Am cynical today. Migraine makes me cynical.
Anyway. Despite the icy conditions and general cold icy coldness, I still got together with Ned last night, because rather crushy on Ned. Everything was closed down because The South. Where we panic over every weather incident. Have I mentioned? We did, however, mince our way through the ice to our favorite pretentious taco place, where IT IS ALL DELICIOUS, and right when we walked in, the owner said, "Oh. Guys. I'm sorry. We just decided to shut down for the night due to weather."
Either we looked completely devastated or she recognized us from the 92 times we've been in, but she said, "You know what? Come in. You'll be the last two we serve."
Ned felt terribly guilty through the whole meal. I gleefully ordered the tuna tacos I've been wanting to order since DAY ONE of going there, which I've been afraid to order because everyone in there appears to be perhaps lesbianical and I always thought I was gonna giggle when I said, "I want a tuna taco." Because am in 7th grade. However, I ordered, "The taco, with tuna, please," a thing Ned repeated 47 times because he enjoys my maturity.
And OH MY GOD, it was delicious. Totally went to the Ned School of Eating during that meal. OH! Enjoyed my tuna taco. It had Wessonality.
Then this morning, Ned left for his work trip and I hate everything. He gets back Wednesday, and is coming RIGHT HERE from the airport, and I am making salmon and yes, I did just tell you that I'm cooking something. That is how excited I will be to see Ned. Am cooking something. I know.
In a few minutes, I'm leaving to get up with my friend and coworker TinaDoris. A few months back, she and her husband bought a really really cool old house with, you know, character, and also a ghost. She has had ALL KINDS OF CREEPY SHIT happen since they moved in, including an inexplicable really violent injurious fall, a weird red liquid on her hands for no reason, and now a candle attacked her. Don't ask.
So we're headed to the nutty crystal hippie store to get sage, and we're gonna de-demonize her place this afternoon. We Googled how to de-demonize your place, which is probably what ancient woman did when her cave was haunted. Will keep you posted on if it works or if the damn thing just gets in the car with me and starts haunting THIS place.
You know what a ghost will give this place? Wessonality.
*I forgot to tell you that when I got home yesterday afternoon, Edsel did his usual thing where he BOUNDS excitedly to the back door, which I opened so he could BOUND excitedly across the yard as though bounding across that yard were exciting and new and not something he does 18 times a day, but yesterday he BURST out the door and skid skid skidded across the icy deck, and could not get his footing, and splayed his feets this way and that and skid skid skidded on to the grass, which was similarly icy, so guess what, skid, and basically Tallulah and I died laughing. The end.