4/10/06

Best comment thread EVER. My god in heaven, I adore reading about peoples’ bad work experiences, maybe because I didn’t really have all that many in my youth (one time two managers at McDonald’s fucked with me by ordering “Prune danishes and a shit shake” at the drive-up (where I couldn’t see them) and I came thisclose to telling them to go fuck themselves, but luckily didn’t ’cause I think I would have gotten in trouuuuuble). I also adore reading about peoples’ awful in-laws, probably because my in-laws (both those I had during my first marriage and my current in-laws) were nothin’ to bitch about.

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I was on the phone with my sister on Saturday – it was a family-talkin’ kind of weekend; I talked to my sister on Saturday, then my sister, my brother, and my mother on Sunday – when I heard the call waiting beep. I told her I had to get the call (I could see by the caller ID that it was the spud, who was on her way to the mall, calling from her cell phone), and hung up with her. Only, I took too long to hang up and by the time I tried to pick up the call from the spud voicemail had picked up and all I got was a dial tone. Thus began a three-minute zany extravaganza wherein I’d call her and her cell phone would go directly to voicemail, then I’d call again and the phone would ring four times before the voicemail picked up, then I’d try again and it’d go directly to voicemail, et cetera. Finally she answered the phone, and told me that someone had hit her. I didn’t even think to ask if anyone’d gotten hurt (obviously SHE was fine, ’cause she’d answered the phone) and told her to hang up, and I’d call her back. I called Fred, who’d gone hiking, on his cell phone, and asked him what I should tell her to do. (See various entries I’ve written wherein I said that I’m bad in an emergency) He asked me a few questions I couldn’t answer, then said he’d call her himself. A minute later he called back and said “She’s not answering her phone.” I told him to hang on, that I’d call her and have her call him. Thus began another extravaganza wherein I called her cell phone, got voicemail, hung up, called again, got voicemail, etc. until she finally picked up. “Sorry!” she said perkily. “I was talking to [her best friend]!” “Call Fred,” I said. “Okay,” she said. A few minutes later Fred called me back. “Neither she nor the other guy had called the police! She said they don’t know HOW TO!” “So what’d you tell her?” “To call 1-411 and ask for the Huntsville police non-emergency number!” “Probably it wouldn’t be a bad idea for her to program the numbers for the Huntsville and Madison police departments into her cell phone just in case,” I said. “Good point,” he said. We talked for a few more minutes, and then he hung up, saying “I’m almost where she is. I’ll see you in a while.” When he got home, he showed me the picture of my car and the other guy’s car.
The other guy’s car. Fred said it looked a lot worse before the guy who owns the car got up on the hood and straightened it out some. Mine. The back bumper will probably need to be replaced.
Apparently the spud was approaching a red light and was slowing down, and the guy rear-ended her. At least this time, unlike the time she scraped the car alongside the mailbox, it wasn’t her fault. “I’m thinking we should have probably just bought her a beater to drive instead of letting her drive MY car,” I told Fred. “Good point,” he said. Poor E’gar. I’d originally planned to pay off the car in the next year, then stash each months’ payment into savings for the next two years, so that I’d have a hefty down payment on a new car when E’gar was four or five years old. At this rate, I’m not sure he’s going to LIVE that long.
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On an up note, the spud and her best friend found a prom dress (for the spud) at the mall in about an hour. She modeled it for us when she got home, and it is ADORABLE. I didn’t get a picture at the time, though, so y’all will have to wait a few days to see it. Trust me when I say it was a very good choice, though.
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We watched Narnia Saturday night, and I thought it was really, really good. Fred thought it dragged a bit – I didn’t think it did at all – and the spud only sat through about half an hour of it before she went back upstairs. Of course, I don’t remember a thing at all about the book, since I only read it once as a kid. Fred has all the Narnia books, so I may read them at some point in the near future.
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Currently reading: Close Range, by Annie Proulx. I just started Brokeback Mountain (the short story), and suddenly I’m understanding more about the movie. For instance, at one point during the movie Fred and I said “I don’t see why they don’t just go camp out with the sheep…”, and while reading the book I find out that they couldn’t, that no one was supposed to be camping with the sheep and Jack was doing it on the sly. Turns out Randy Quaid’s character explained that all at the very beginning, only I could only understand about every sixth word he said. So far, it’s good. I’ve found, as I’ve read through the book, that at the beginning of each short story I think “Oh, I don’t give a shit about this character, maybe I should just skip this story…” but within a few paragraphs I’m hooked. The only other Annie Proulx book I’ve read in the past was The Shipping News, and if I recall correctly I didn’t much care for it. I might give another of her short-story books a try, though.
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Far too important and busy to stop and smell the flowers. “Come here, darling. I won’t scratch your eyes out with my claws and tear your throat out with my teeth, I PROMISE.” The look on his face cracks me up. Here, here’s a closeup:
All of today’s uploaded pictures are here.
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Previously 2005: No entry. 2004: No entry. 2003: Questions answered. 2002: No entry. 2001: Spring cleaning. 2000: Let’s just say our mother was not pleased.]]>