someone else lives, I am reminded anew of how uncool and bland our decor is. It’s Fred’s fault. He says the big smiley-face poster I want to slap up in the living room doesn’t “go.” Like the big-ass TV and the antique side table go together? He’s holding me back, man! He won’t let me express my inner coolness! Repression! I’m tired of living under The Man’s thumb! Oh, wait – no I’m not. In fact, I kinda like it. Rwowr. * * * Damn that UPS man, damn him! I was sitting in front of the computer (what a shock, eh?) yesterday afternoon, and glanced out the window to see the UPS truck sitting in front of our house. I watched and waited, and then the truck left. The UPS guy always rings the doorbell when he leaves a package – they never wait to get a signature – and the doorbell hadn’t rung, so I assumed he’d been delivering a package to one of the neighbors. I went about my self-assigned tasks for the day – vacuuming, cleaning, good little housewife that I am (ha!). After I’d showered and was ready for lunch, I was coming back downstairs when I saw that there was, in fact, a package sitting on the front steps. I got really excited – as excited as I get about mail, I get way more excited when it comes to getting a UPS package – and opened the door. I picked it up, noting that it was really heavy, and carried it inside. Once inside, I put it down and looked at the label. It was from Tarrah Cosmetics, a company I’ve never heard of, and so I looked at the addressee and realized that it had been delivered to the wrong address. We’re at 318 (or let’s just say we are – you think I’m going to give you the right number to our house?), and it was addressed to the people at 308. I’d gotten all excited for nothing. I put the package in the car – it was too heavy to carry 5 houses up the street – and drove to 308. Pulling into the driveway, I noticed that the garage door was open, which I assumed meant that someone was home. I carried the package to their front door and rang the doorbell. After a minute or so, when no one came to the door, I knocked. Still no one. I left the package by their front door and took off for a drive around the neighborhood. I haven’t walked outside in a month or so – I’m doing my cardio on the butt-numbing stationary bike – so I wanted to see if anything of interest had changed since the last time I walked through. Nothing had. On my way back home, I passed 308, and noticed that – in the five minutes since I’d left it there – the package had been taken inside, and the garage door was closed. Obviously whoever lives at 308 belongs to the Bitchypoo “If I don’t know you, I ain’t answerin’ the door” school of thought. * * * The spud was out with her friend for a few hours last night, so Fred and I took the chance to have sex on the kitchen floor. Ha – kidding! The floor was far too dirty to do dirty things on it. Plus, it’s cold. What we actually took the chance to do was watch Frailty. It was far better than I’d expected, given that it stars the man with the smack-me face, Bill Paxton, who also directed. It was creepy and intense, and I wouldn’t mind seeing it again. Two thumbs up! * * * Mere hours until Survivor Thailand starts… whyyyyy is this day going by so damn slowly?! * * * Okay, I need advice – I finally FINALLY finished the cross-stitch picture from hell, and I’m going to take it tomorrow to be framed. The problem is that I can’t decide what type of frame I want to get – I’m going back and forth between a light wood frame or a cherry frame. Also, should I get it matted? So check out the picture of the picture I took – it’s taken from a weird angle, but you get the idea of what it looks like – you can click on the picture for the full-sized version, and then answer the polls below. There’s a commenting feature on the polls, so if you vote “yes” on whether I should have it matted, give me a comment about what color mat (I’m guessing white, but I don’t know). And vote fast, because I’m off to have it framed first thing tomorrow! (Poll has been removed)]]>