we found a place!

p,
I tried to spare you all of the drama and disappointment of apartment searching. Seemed like every place we saw and got even a little attached to fell through. Finally I gave up and TD looked. He did it! I am so proud and excited to move out of the cave and into a quirky, sunny, big, guest-friendly house. See Flickr photos. It is now safe (for real) for us to raise a glass to our new digs.
HUZZAH!
love,
p

headlight disaster

hi.

I was recently troubled by a woman at work who wore a fairly revealing tank top (white/sheer) and had extraordinarily erect and obvious nipples. I felt so dirty. Dirty, dirty, dirty. How does that even happen, especially while wearing a bra?

Needless to say, I had my eye om those nipples all day. Not a moment went by when she was not using her high beams.

How did the answer to my mystery present itself? The way a false erect nipple might if it slid to the side of the bra (under the pit, almost)-- which it did.

Witness:

According to the manufacturer of the above nipple enhancers, this is designed to make you sexier, more "natural" looking. Indeed! Nothing is less like a slutty horror movie than a nipple that travels toward your armpit.

with real live perkiness,

p

something worth crying about

MY JELLO CAKE GOT RUINED IN THE SUN!

in sadness,
p

The Last Time I Cried

These things happened (in order) on Wednesday:

• Went to look at fab apartment.


• Fell in love with fab apartment.


• Called rental agency to make final arrangements.


• Was informed that, contrary to popular belief, our dogs could not live there.


• We've been looking for 6 weeks, only to have this happen over and over.


• Dave, still in hospital, near tears because he's SO tire of being there. And it hurts.


• Called mom and dad to cry about apartment.


• When I was done crying, Dad told me that paw-paw has colon cancer.


• Paw-paw's 88, Grandma's not-all-there, the prognosis can't be too great.


• I didn't get much sleep and so...

I bawl like a big baby-- that ugly cry with the mouth open and the spit running down my face and the almost-wail. Yup, right there in the hospital. However:

• We have a last option for an apartment showing this Monday. After that, the grand Rosenberg visit happens and we'll have no time to look, at which point we're moving out.


• Dave's out of the hospital.


• Paw-Paw is "amazingly strong for his age" and came out of surgery well.

Sometimes it amazes me what odd combinations of stuff send me into meltdown. Just some FYI, case you're curious about my crying habits of late.

Miss you... hold me...

p.

Out-Mormoning The Mormons

P,


Yet another bridal shower tomorrow. It's mind numbing; most people (women, rather) I know go to several showers a week. For the love of all that's sacred, STOP GETTING MARRIED. No, let me amend: STOP HAVING KIDS. My friend, Jen, told the most alarming baby shower story ever, in which the mom-to-be (who HAS KIDS ALREADY) wants a soiree of 75 people. Huh? Also she's dictating every detail. Hi, showers are a gift, not a right. So anyway, tomorrow's shower should be excellent because it's just a barbeque, no games, no decorations, no hoo-ha. But there will be jello shots and...Jello Cake! I suddenly remembered a cake my mom made when I was little, from a jello cookbook (who knew?) (also, I loved to look though it because the jello parfaits looked so yummy). When I mentioned that I would be bringing a Jello cake, there was a room full of blank stares. HA! Beat you at your own game. I found a classic trashy cake to bring that is made with Jello and HA! Suck it, Utahans! You don't know about Jello Cake and when you taste it, you'll be mine forever...


JELLO "POKE" CAKE

1 bx. yellow or white cake mix
1 (3 oz.) bx. red jello
1 (8 oz.) carton Cool Whip topping
9 x 13 baking dish
Optional flavor combination: lemon cake mix - orange or lemon jello

Bake cake according to package directions. While cake is cooling in its pan, poke holes all over with large fork. Mix jello according to package directions. Drizzle jello liquid over cake. Make sure jello penetrates all holes. Chill several hours or overnight. Frost chilled cake with whipped topping. Serve.

Yeah, sister. You get classier, I start investigating the wide world of jello recipes and casseroles. I'm a rocker. I rock out.

Love you with Cool Whip on top,
p

water into wine

p,

So we've had some shit-ass luck finding a new apartment in this fuckhole town. There's a crapper full of reasons (the latest including dog breed restrictions that mean that Whoobie not only can't live in some apartments, but she's not welcome in some towns. Nice.) However, yesterday, a very cute couple came to look at our apartment and they loved it (?!) but what is even more fortuitous is that, in a moment of jovial chit-chat about how much apartment hunting sucks, the guy said "Hey! Wanna trade?" You'd think that someone who's interested in our dungeon might be trading up from a box in Pioneer Park, but no! They're downsizing for awhile and have THE PERFECT DIGS (from what I hear and see in pics) for us. It was almost creepy. The woman sent me pictures ASAP and her fiance is working out the deal with the landlord. Nothing's even close to final, but if we get this place, we can have guests! That means you! And you, and you! I'll share pictures then ask you to engage in some prayerful activity or at least say a toast or two...

Love,

High Livin' P who's turning down the covers for you already...

One reason we have so many blog fans:

I'm not gonna lie. I have nothing to say that is insightful, clever, or mindboggling. It's just been so long since I've posted and I feel like I owe our vast audience a little update on things. One of these days, I'll sit down and write something that will change someone's life, even if only for a few minutes, but that time is not now and the forum is not this. But okay, here's what's the haps:

• I am losing my ability to figure out what words are compound words and which are two separate words. (see "mindboggling" above) More often than not, I make two words one.
• My Man is in the hospital, but you knew that. Even when everything is going to be fine and there's really nothing to worry about, there is a certain amount of lifeforce (see?) that is sucked away when one's constant companion is in the hospital. I would imagine that jail is similar. Let us not find out.
• My new laptop is a little enthralling, though only one paragraph of real writing has been written on it. Many movies have been watched on it-- mostly during my Monday night grave shift.
• 100 degrees is hot, I don't care who or where you are.
• I am way behind on bills and so my DSL is gone, meaning that my desktop, which is picture central, is out of commission for a few weeks. No flickr for awhile. Booo. Everyone loves pics of people in hospital beds.
• Overheard at Walgreens:

Loud Guy: Hey, how's Robert?

V. Trashy Lady: He's doing fine.

Loud Guy: Really, are you sure?

V. Trashy Lady: Oh, yeah, he's doing good.

Loud Guy: Is he suicidal? (loud enough for the entire back section of Walgreens to enjoy)

V. Trashy Lady: Um, no?

and that's when I almost snorted Gatorade out my nostril. Uncouth moment of the week, I'd say.

• I learned tonight while playing beads at work that beading is a favorite past time of tweakers. It's the organizing of the beads, I think. I had about 5 volunteers to sort my beads. Huh.
• We need to move. We may go to an apartment complex for several reasons, none of which are interesting enough for our fans. I've avoided it for a long time, but I think it's coming. Urgh.

Uh huh. It's no wonder we're mobbed by fans. The writing is spectacular, informative, and relevant. Save me, already.

Miss you like mad. With big pulmonary love,

p.