Those who know me know that me and Crazy Town are “tight”. In fact, my narrations of such encounters have prompted some to proclaim that I should write these self-described events down. I might possibly be a tad melodramatic, but alas, these things do happen. I actually was pulled over for picking up a pacifier. And, yes, embarrassingly enough, my drawstring did break on my pants while walking across an intersection, at dusk, with headlights on, with people I knew in the cars. And I did think I was being “punked” at Home Depot with an elderly lady, a dog, a lidless quart of paint, and a cocktail napkin (you can read about that one here). While I’m on a roll there is also a good story about how I took the train to Chicago to help a friend drive a stick shift back. I don’t know how to drive a stick shift. Oh geez, and then there is the time the Pennsylvania Turnpike closed while me and my future husband were driving on it due to a blizzard. That was a stick shift too. He couldn’t drive because he had the “flu” and apparently I couldn’t drive it either, again, it was a stick. I just remembered the time I went snorkeling and got sea sick. I was in Australia and the guide did not care that I had just puked and flipped me over the side right as a small shark went by. I was hyperventilating so badly–from floating in my own already eaten lunch that the shark was just annoying. As was the guide.
Today is not as interesting, but I must throw out a “Really?!”
First, all you military spouses. 1. Don’t you just LOVE it when you husband calls and asks you if you know where “obscure crazy you fill in the blanks” place is? And when you reply with a guarded “WHY?” they say just wondering? That’s code for I’m talking to the detailer about my next duty station. 2. And don’t you just LOVE it when they call and say “Guess what?” That’s code for take two prozac and start packing. 3. And don’t you just really LOVE it when you give the detailer/placement officer/”boss of your life” your top 3 choices and your husband does SEE #1.
And then whilst I was at Michael’s a lady dressed in orange from top to bottom (we’ll leave it at that) asks me if I like her Halloween Costume. I tell her it’s lovely and she SCREAMS at me “IT’S NOT A HALLOWEEN COSTUME”. And then proceeds to walk away.
Finally, I just went out to my car and someone cob webbed it. Why?
I got nothing.