March 17, 2007

So I’ve been yammering on and on and on about a big secret that I’ve not been able to talk about because I was afraid of jinxing it and ruining my life and then I’d have to ruin your lives because it just wouldn’t be fair for you to be all happy and me all sad. I like stuff even. Get it?

Having said all of that crap about jinxing, I’m going to tell you my big secret because a certain big mouth smartie pants guesser, who thinks she’s so rockin and well so what if she totally is, whatever someone totally fucking guessed kinda guessed and since she thought I was having some kind of contest and she was gonna win a prize or some such nonsense, which by the way, I’m not handing out prizes unless you want my old coffee maker that I NEVER use because I don’t drink coffee, then you can have it. I think maybe she guessed because she pays attention and I like people who pay attention. To me. Why? Ah, because I’m important. Duh.

My secret probably isn’t going to, like blow you away. So before you get your panties, tighty whities, girdle, thong, whatever, in a bunch, I don’t remember saying that it would, so keep that in mind when you read it. No, I wasn’t abducted by aliens and given the dreaded anal probe, I didn’t win any awards, I wasn’t a lucky lottery winner, I didn’t go to the moon and back, although some days it sure feels like I’ve been to another planet, I wasn’t planning some awesome vacation, even though I absolutely deserve one, I didn’t milk a cow, I haven’t gotten a new hair do, I am not running for president or prime minister or pope-age or turning to satan worshiping. Read on:

My news iiiissssss, we sort of bought a house! I talked about the disgustingly ugly pink house, which I was convinced should totally belong to me but which in reality totally belongs to someone other than me, so it’s not that house. It’s a house that is almost new, looks new, is ‘ready to move in’ quality and is only a 2 minute drive from my current house. We should know by next Friday which is my son’s 11th birthday and 11 is one of my favourite numbers, so that’s a sign. Right? There, geez, I said it and if because I talked about it before we actually have it and I lose it, I’m coming after you. All of you. So watch out. I’m all scary like that. Seriously though, I’m excited but I have to hide it incase we don’t get it. But I think we will. Right? Ah hello? Could someone please dig out their crystal balls, I’m desperate here? Thanks, that’d be great.

There you have it. Happy now? You should be dammit. I will give more details and pictures once we know for one hundred percent that we do indeed own it. Then I’ll expect you to throw me a wickedly fun party to congratulate me and send me oodles of cash (50’s and up, thanks) in pretty pink envelopes. That is hardly asking alot after I’ve given you much to dream about people. Much. *Smiles*

March 15, 2007

You’re most likely cursing me, wanting to strangle me or at least punch me in the face, and really who could blame you? I know I said I’d be telling my secret and you probably thought I’d be spilling the beans like 2 years ago but you have to keep waiting. Think of this like your favourite sitcom/drama/soap/movie and you’re hanging on the edge of your seat, breathless, waiting for the cliffhanger to be resolved so you can get the hell back to your lives, but at the same time, you’re intrigued and mesmerized (by my hotness/beauty, duh) and don’t exactly want it to end because then you’ll all be bored and shit. See how I give you such great ideas! You love me, I can tell.

I will tell you this, I’m not pregnant. I’m not dying (that I’m aware of), I’m not having surgery to remove some ugly, nasty bunion, I’m not having a boob job (although I’d consider it), I’m not getting an artificial leg because as of right now, I have 2 real ones, I’m not trading in my piece of shit van nor am I shaving my head. I want to be absolutely sure of the “thing that I’m talking about in code” before I talk about it, incase, you know, aliens come and eat me. Na, I’m just joshin’ you, I’m just paranoid I’ll jinx it. And you don’t want to be responsible for me jumping off of a cliff should you pester me to talk about “this” and then it gets jinxed and you’ve thus ruined my life. You really want that on your shoulders? I didn’t think so. Am I a bit dramatic? You betcha. But that’s what keeps you dreaming about me each and every night. You do dream about me each and every night? Right? Huh?

I promise I will entertain you until then. And if not, well, then you can sue me if you so choose. I can tell you I don’t really have alot of funds but you can have my bellybutton lint collection. That’s hot.

*Edit* I just sucked up my bellybutton lint collection with the vaccum cleaner (oops), so, ah, you’ll have to sue me for something else…..my old nail polish collection?