Never Attribute to Malice that which Can Be Attributed to Stupidity.

I was doing a flylady approved living room blitz- although it's meant for emergencies, it's the only way I clean; probably because my living quarters are in a near constant state of emergency. I was six minutes into my alloted fifteen, moving frenetically, when I found something that stopped me dead.

C has been missing some clothing. I understand other people look for things that are missing- we nudge things with our toes and say "Eh eh." pathetically. (Or C knows exactly where it is among the piles of detritus.) Happily, I have found it. Unhappily, I am now concerned about other things.

The clothing- a quick analysis proved it to be dirty- was found piled into a sealed giant tupperware in our living room. I'm a little concerned that we didn't check the giant tupperware when saying "Eh eh."- that seems lazy even for us- but I'm more concerned that someone filled a tub with dirty laundry, arranged it into a comfortable nest, and then sealed the top. I thought I might have done it as an unconscious passive-aggressive act to purge C's wardrobe of anime and video game t-shirts, but I don't see anything I might theoretically hate.

Why I'll be posting here again.

I have a bad habit of putting off important things. I have a worse habit of realizing how terrible postponing action on those things is in the middle of heartfelt confessions from friends. Last week I peeled off of a conversation on how hard it is marshaling applications for grad school to register for the GRE. It needed doing, alright?

So I'm doing that Friday, because once I stop putting things off, I must do them immediately. I suspect this is unwise. Still, I will be relearning math this week, and re-entering a world where it's OK to pick apart logical flaws in arguments.

sigh

You all remember my earlier post about my fake crazy wedding plans. Wanna hear the real crazy wedding plans?

1.) C wants cheesecakes as wedding cakes. I suppose I also want cheesecakes. After considering transport, caterers, making them ourselves, and Costco, one of my friends suggested this guy. I called him. We established that I was a friend of a friend and wanted him to make ten cheesecakes. When we got into specifics, things got a little weird. He asked how big the cheesecakes should be, what flavors I wanted, what price range I was looking at. I said ten inches, lemon or plain, and like $25 each. He said he didn't have ten inch pans, was six OK? And no lemon, but mint, sage, and berry. And he could probably do it for $10. The conversation kept getting stranger until I said "Wait, cheesecakes isn't a euphemism. I want you to make me pastries." There was a pause. "Ten ten inch cheesecakes, plain, for $25 each? That sounds fair. I'll do it. Ignore the other stuff I said."

2.) One of C's great aunts is embroidering us a marriage sheet. I'm no specialist on Chilean culture- all I have to go on here is indelicate speculation, guys.

3.) Things that have happened to my dressmaker since we hired her: husband's heart attack, finish remodeling house, move out of shed into house, party for 200 in her house, daughter gets tonsils out, first grandchild born, roof caves in on shed, secondary infection on tonsil area for daughter, husbands starts suffering from panic attacks which seem a lot like a heart attack every single time, flat tire, and cutting off part of her finger with a circular saw. Option one: dress is cursed. Option two: she hasn't discovered that you can cover up forgetting to do something with unspectacular lies.

4.) C's mother bought a case of wine for us. After we bought more cases (OMG so many monies) she explained that the good wine wasn't for the ordinary guests at the wedding. I, um...

5.) Y'all have probably heard about the napkins, right? My mother and I got into a screaming match because I wanted to use the tablecloths that she collects and she wanted to rent a whole bunch of amber ones that would brush the floor. We got into another because she hates polyester napkins and the only ones you can rent are polyester and paper napkins are just too tacky. Result: we made (she made) 24 tablecloths and 150 cotton napkins. Really.

6.) Every food my mother thinks is fancy is something C hates. Olives, proscuitto, blue cheese, Asiago, cornichons, cheesecakes that are any flavor other than plain... We're two weeks out and still unsure of the shopping list.

It was in San Francisco.

Y'all have probably heard my story about the tire blowing out while I was hitching a ride back to college. (Here 'hitching' is used in the sense that one calls a friend and asks if they are also returning to school on a day.) Moderately long story short; he was so phlegmatic about tire blowouts that I assumed they were no big thing. According to everyone else: High Speed Tire Blowouts= Big Thing.

So I'm going on a week long camping trip for work. On the last day, we'll drive out six hours, pass within blocks of my house, drive for another hour, drop off my coworker, and turn and drive back. I mentioned that I would probably tuck and roll.

Yeah, apparently leaping out of a moving vehicle is not inherently funny unless you've seen someone do it for a parking space.

It's not a secret if you post it on your blog.

Some time ago I returned from work to find the following note:

"I found your mail from this week. It is under this note. I will be back at seven. Don't spoil your dinner. -Mom"

I rifled through the mail, and then responded:

"Off buying ice cream cone. Back soon."

Feeling that might be deliberately inflammatory, I felt compelled to add a short vignette about the tragedy of the alligator lizard. You see, the alligator lizard lives in environments that are only tolerable if one has ice cream, but the lizard lacks both the ability to purchase ice cream and the ability to leave said environment. It is very sad. I drew a short comic on the backs of various envelopes and cards, detailing the quest for ice cream of a disturbingly anthropomorphosized alligator lizard. I believe at the end, sated by ice cream, he walks into the light- here represented by the gullet of an eagle- able to face his fate with equanimity. Then I bought and ate ice cream. Then I sent back RSVP cards for two weddings.

The next day I realized that parts of the alligator lizard saga were on the back of the RSVP cards.

But I seem to have gotten away with it- I've since talked to the brides in question, and there was no comment about my artwork. Ha ha! Awkward explanation avoided! Illusion of sanity maintained!

Unless they read this post.

I don't want your pity, I want to be mocked.

It got all warm outside. I've been drinking a lot of water: six liters every day. I was going to write a humorous post about how to drink so much water- the key is to work outside in Redding in recently burned areas and to have lots of water with you- but that's not the best way to achieve this goal.

Right, do you know those little fizzy packets of electrolytes- Emergen-C? My boss is encinte, and thus is not using chemicals. (No TechNu. No Gum. No Sunscreen.) The approved Gatorade substitute is that good old hippie hangover cure.

So the best way to drink six liters of water every day (1.5 gallons) is to also consume 3-4 grams of effervescent ascorbic acid. That's Vitamin C, folks- 50 times the RDA every work day. And while it's very difficult to harm yourself with Vitamin C, it does have side effects. I have them all, I just thought I was allergic to hot chocolate. And had food poisoning. And was weak.

I'm so dumb.

Special thanks to C, who thought to look up the symptoms of too much Vitamin C, even though I told him that I was sure you couldn't take too much. Positive.