at one point or another, i think we have all seen those television commercials where the maytag repair man is lonely, because maytags products never need repair.
when Cathleen and i moved into our new place on may 15th, her stacked washer/dryer set was left at our friend rob’s until we could get a dolly and cart it on over. at the time, it was too big to fit into the ryder truck along with all of our crap, so for roughly two months we’ve been carting our laundry to the laundry mat. which, in and of itself wasn’t a bad thing; as justin and i would play chess while watching our laundry go from being dingy to making it snuggle fresh.
justin would always kick my ass in chess.
when rob finally brought the machine over, the washer worked but the dryer had a broken belt. Cathleen kept calling circuit city to drag their asses over to fix the damn thing. the repair man finally showed up this morning, and i answered the door in my big blue terrycloth robe, looking like something the cat dragged in. while he was fixing the dryer, i had changed into my sexy sweat pants and a tshirt i had gotten for work advertising the ultimate connection, a bbs that my boss owns for on-line sex. heh.
i bid the repair man farewell and went about cleaning up kitty litter, sweeping the floors and picking up dirty laundry to throw in the washer. i turn the cycle onto permanent press and set it for cold/cold and walk away.
i walk back into the laundry room to smell, to me, brunt rubber. the repair man had disconnected the washer when fixing the dryer.
mayhap i am the only one who sees the humor in this, but again, that is all that is important.
I called circuit city and they sent him back. i tested out the washer/dryer before he left and now I’m spinning cycles with the best of them.
tonight we are having another bbq at our place. i had “depromoted” myself at work in order to get weekends off, and thus to celebrate that and just living in general, we invited the crew over for a bbq. i am so damned tired of hot dogs and hamburgers that i decided to wait till people get here to get an idea of what people would want to eat. I’m thinking shish ka-bobs and something else to go with it.
i open my fridge this morning to pour a glass of pineapple juice and basically clean out the damn thing. i see a frozen lump sitting on one of the shelves, and when i flip it over, i see it’s hot dogs.
the buns are sitting right next to it, slowly dethawing.
I have had this infatuation with pineapple juice for the last few months now. i don’t know what it is about it, but it is almost like i am pregnant (fat chance) and i am craving certain items.
every time we go grocery shopping, i always try and get a few cans of frozen pineapple juice so that i can have it willing and ready to go. the amazing thing I’ve found is that it is no problem finding the can juice, but frozen? it seems that in the ghetto area i live in doesn’t carry pineapple juice. to me it’s appalling. you can get a 1000 and one other flavors of juice, but pineapple? one store we went to, which is a large supermarket in the area, had a 100 flavors of juice by big names like minute maid and dole, but no pineapple juice. i found a can of something called ‘pineapple and starfish’ juice, which, when we opened and drank tasted like water. ick.
we are big juice fanatics in our household. justin drinks about a gallon a day to himself, not including his desires for grape slurpees and sprite. Cathleen buys snapple in cases and always has orange juice ready to go. i have my pineapple juice, which I’m thinking will taste might good with vodka.
lately I’ve been lamenting about the fact that i haven’t been to a bar in ages. i miss that. i miss getting all dolled up and going dancing and drinking and basically having a good time. it is hard, to me, to plan activities since justin is not yet 21. i don’t want to leave him out, but, he knows I’m more of a social creature then he is, and he keeps pushing me to just go.
he accepts that fact, but somehow i can’t. he’s happy just sitting and reading or playing basketball or working on something on the computer; whilst i want to go out and about and raise hell. he says he doesn’t mind.
it’s a healthy relationship.
oh, for the days of dysfunction.
justin and i have been close friends for about eight months now, and he’s been living with me for about a month. during that time, we have not once gotten into an argument. not even a disagreement. we agree on everything. okay, once at home depot when i tried explaining what i wanted to do to that damn fig tree in our backyard he pissed me off, but he was more amused then anything at my inability to articulate what i wanted.
I’m obsessing about the fact that i can’t have a dysfunctional relationship.
I’ve also been lamenting about the fact that i want to be a lush. my family has a long history of alcoholism; dad, grandad on both sides, basically relatives up the ass have drinking or drug problems. i feel damn straight because i don’t like having a beer occasionally anymore nor do i like getting high on some artificial stimulant. i have my moments where, like at our housewarming, i will just let go and drink into a stupor, but those times are so infrequent that it positively annoys me.
i want to be a drunk. at least then my problems will be real.
tonight I’m going to get a pint or a fifth of vodka, do a few shots and let go. maybe i should also take a shower. i have to be the perfect hostess in a few hours and i shouldn’t look like a goodwill reject.