Saturday, May 23, 2009

Ear infections, dreams and real estate

  • I have counted 27 violations of the unpopular No Picky-Licky Ordinance since I began tracking five days ago.
  • The Asshole Ear Infection That is Ruining Our Lives continues to, you know, ruin our lives. We are sampling all that Big Pharm has to offer and are currently on #4. Extended Screaming Tantrums That Rattle Actual Bones have replaced the regularly scheduled Shorter Screaming Tantrums That Only Sort of Piss Me Off. In other news, Ruby would like me to mention that her ears? Kind of hurt.
  • I keep having dreams about the longtime friend who inexplicably (to me) dumped me right after I got married and I don't know what it means. If it didn't hurt so much to think about her, if I weren't so proud and stubborn, if I thought my heart could stand the rejection, if I didn't miss her so damned much, I would call to see if she is okay. So many years have passed and I still can't delete her number out of my phone. Not sure what that means either. Sigh.
  • While I stubbornly stand by my stance on never ever moving, I sort of wish our neighborhood had more safe places to ride bikes and less used condoms on the street. Also? Did you just see that hooker standing in front of my house? Halp.
  • Davey and I found precisely 13.4 seconds with which to snuggle this morning before someone small and urine soaked managed to wedge between us.
  • The people who live across the street have listed their house for 20% more than any house in the area. The house is roughly 20% less appealing than their peers. This has solved the mystery as to why the owners wear sweats so frequently as jeans would not readily accommodate balls of that size.
  • I should be nicer about the large-sacked neighbors because as part of their marketing strategy, their Realtor forced them to part with the Toddler Fantasyland of Little Tykes equipment that littered their front yard. In this neighborhood, the etiquette for disposal of anything you don't want is to place the item on the street in front of your house (See: No Sidewalks in This GodForsaken Place) and hope that it disappears (usually in under a minute). My friend next door and I waited patiently the morning of The Toy Purge and furiously texted each other when a desired object was set out so we could swap child care and help carry larger items across the street.I am the proud new owner of a slightly used Turtle Sand Box. With a lid!
  • If you see a bike appropriate for a four year old girl left out in someones yard, please do me a favor and move it just a little closer to the street and give me a call (or text!)


Anonymous feefifoto said...

I have a few friends who've disappeared on me over the years, with no advance notice. I wonder about them too. Found one on Facebook and contemplated getting in touch, but since I have no idea why we aren't friends any more, I don't want to face it.

8:04 PM  
Blogger Kirsten said...

I am so with you about not wanting to face it. It hurt bad enough to be dumped and I guess I should just get the message!

12:37 AM  

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