Thursday, September 20, 2007

now that I can dance

My throat hurts. I think I've been out of schools long enough that my immune system has lost its ability to zap everything the way it had when I was teaching full time for so many years. It's unfortunate that it requires being exposed to cooties to teach the body how to fight them.

Shawn is working late tonight and I wish he was home. It's a long night when he's out.

My stepmother-in-law called and left a message on the machine inviting me to a "candle party" next week. She's hoping I'll come over to her place and that her husband can come over here and hang out with Shawn. The real problem with this is that it eliminates my opportunity to tell some kind of white lie about why I can't go because if I tell her I'm busy doing something else, she'll still send her husband over who will see me at home in my pajamas eating a bowl of popcorn and pretending to be busy doing something else. I just hate events like this where women cluck over ugly jewelry or tupperware containers (or candles) and feel compelled to buy something to thank the host(ess) for her hospitality and eventually get roped into having their own little parties that people feel they should attend so they can continue to have pleasant relationships with their inlaws. It all gives me the shivers.


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Things that require my attention this weekend:
- doing laundry
- recycling a zillion cardboard boxes and sheets of paper from the move
- finding a new vet to give Little Puppy her rabies booster
- getting my teaching certificate cheque in the mail
- going to the bank

That list was longer when it was still in my head. I think I'm forgetting a few things.


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On Monday morning Shawn and I are both skipping work (well, not really skipping because I had to fill out an enormous form to request a "personal leave of absence" which sounds like it would be something big and not just three hours). We are going to meet with some lady who, apparently, is going to redesign our kitchen so that the fridge will fit in the hole for which it was intended and the ugly 80s paraphernalia will be changed into something we like.

I don't really see why we need a kitchen re-designer lady and why we can't just buy cupboards at Home Depot and put them up ourselves, but Shawn is developing some seriously expensive tastes in stuff and cannot be stopped. I have thought about this a lot and I think it has something to do with the fact that he grew up in a home where money was very tight and now that he's a grown up it's kind of like he's making up for all the things he didn't have as a kid, or something. My parents, on the other hand, were pretty well off and though they weren't particularly lavish in terms of buying toys and junk that kids like, we had a nice home, we had nice holidays, and we were lucky to have these things. Maybe that's why I don't feel so excited about things like big screen televisions or leather couches or whatever. Or maybe it's because Shawn is insane.


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I sent E a computer on September 10th knowing she would lose hers soon. Hers was taken on September 15th. That's only five days ago now but it seems like a long time and I'm worried about how I will know if the computer has arrived if she's unable to get it going and write to me. Being completely useless where it comes to computers, I am concerned there will be something wrong with it that renders it useless - something that I didn't foresee because I know nothing. I'm also worried it will get lost, or damaged, in the mail.


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I need to figure out a way to make about 5 Pink Panther costumes (the cartoon, not the spy) for my stagehands because I think it would be nice for the crew to wear pink instead of black for a change. I looked at costumes that could be purchased online and found them WAY too expensive for a high school drama budget so now I am trying to imagine sewing tails and white bellies onto pink pajamas or something like that. I don't really know how to sew, though. Sigh.


It's 8:33 and I think I might fall asleep on the couch since it's too early to fall asleep in bed.


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1 comment:

Brat said...

~kissin your nose~
I love you Pink Panther.