So, we watched two movies this weekend. Actually, I watched two movies this weekend – Fred and the spud have a tradition of watching of watching movies every Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, and they’re really scraping the bottom of the barrel these days. The first movie I watched was on Saturday – with Fred and the spud – was The Fast and the Furious. Fred was SO looking forward to seeing it, because he loves Vin Diesel.

What a piece of crap. I ended up reading through most of it, only looking up once or twice, most especially when Vin took his shirt off.

The other movie, which Fred and I watched on Saturday night, was The Glass House. I figured we’d watch about ten minutes of it, get bored, and turn it off. Leelee Sobieski kind of annoys me sometimes and I didn’t expect to like the movie, but it surprised me. It was really pretty good, and had me on the edge of my seat several times. Stellan Skarsgard and Diane Lane were both believably creepy. Two thumbs up!

Fred and I were watching the beginning of the movie – Fred was reading a book and glanced up from time to time at first, and then ended up putting the book down. Anyway, after the funeral – I don’t think I’m giving away any plot points with that – Fred glanced up and misunderstood what he saw.

"She’s not with HIM," I said in response. "She’s HER friend!" And then –

Before I go on, let me break here for a moment and ask – do you ever mean to type one thing and type another? I’ll be responding to email, or writing an entry, and though I’ll intend to type "will", my fingers will go off on their own and decide to type "while" or "wary", or some other word – maybe "can’t". In other words, what ends up there is a word that I didn’t intend to type, wasn’t even thinking of typing, but it got typed anyway. (Probably dozens of you out there who’ve gotten emails from me are thinking to yourselves "Oh THAT’S why her email didn’t make any sense! – not only do I tend to type the wrong word, I also often don’t go back and re-read what I’ve typed before I send the mail).

And that’s what my brain did. I said, "She’s not with HIM. She’s HER friend!" Pause. And I opened my mouth to affectionately say "You dumbass!"

I often call my husband a dumbass, and don’t email me and tell me how I don’t deserve such a wonderful guy when I abuse him like that, because he knows it’s a term of affection. When it’s aimed toward him, anyway.

Only, of SAYING "You dumbass!", my mouth went off on it’s own, and what came out was "Ya fuckin’ idiot!"

As soon as it came out of my mouth, my jaw dropped open.

"Oh my GOD!" I said, both horrified and laughing.

I have NEVER called my husband a fucking idiot. Because he’s not. (Except when he leaves his clothes laying on top of every piece of furniture in our bedroom. And even then I don’t call him an idiot to his face. That would be rude, and I think we can agree that I’m all about the politeness.)

I apologized more than once, but I think he was secretly glad it happened, because it gave him something to give me a hard time about all weekend long.

The fucking idiot.

Hee! Oh, I slay me!

Since I’m giving Fred a hard time today, I’ll mention a little story that happened last weekend. We were taking down the Christmas cards – well, Fred was – and he yanked one end of the ribbon (that the cards were hanging on) out of the wall, and the tack that had been holding it in place went flying over into the living room.

"That’s okay," he said to the spud, "Your Mom will find it. Maybe with her ass." And then he giggled.

The next morning, he came in the room and woke me up.

"Have you been sitting on the couch and cross-stitching?" he asked.

I thought about it. "No, I always sit on the love seat. Why?"

And he held up a needle. Which he’d found in the couch cushion.

With his ass.

I heard the whip-like sound of the Karmic Boomerang on that one.

Man. I cleaned out the cd holder between the front seats in my Jeep this afternoon, and there must have been 300 pieces of chewed gum wrapped up in wrappers in there. I’m one gum-chewing fool. It was nasty. My directions to Atlanta for the 3Day were still in there. There were 7 half-full Diet Coke bottles in the floor of the back seat.

A clean freak I am not.

How are those Bitchypoo Altars o’ Worship coming? Two days! Mmm… birthday cake! (See? I almost typed "Bitchy cake" there! My fingers have a mind of their own!)

Oh – I almost forgot! I finally got the Virtual Tour of the new house put up. To see it, find the link on the sidebar.