"I want, I want, I want ... but that's crazy"

Monday, June 16, 2008

The Cheese Whisperer

I had my usual Sunday morning (and early afternoon) of work, followed by taking Book home and stopping for lunch with the girls. We got takeout this time though, so we could come home and watch soccer. I started to feel a little too pressured though, so I figured I'd better get back out the door. After all, I paid for the Replay videos on the UEFA site, so I might as well take advantage of them. I'm catching up now, as a matter of fact. Of course, only one of the two games was televised anyway, so I'd have catching up to do anyway.

So we skipped the end of the game and headed off to catch my stepdad to give him his Father's Day gift before he left for a cookout at his son's. (No one else was invited to the cookout - just dad. Nice, eh?)

We stopped off for the weekly groceries, and Munch amused everyone in the deli area with her unnaturally fervent affection for Colby-Jack cheese (she stood with her palms against the glass of the deli case, gazing longingly at the cheese and whispering, "Oh, I love you so much." In fact, she turned to me and said, "I wasn't talking to you, Mom. I was talking to the cheese.")

Just after we arrived home, under beautiful clear blue skies, warnings of a severe thunderstorm just to the north came across the TV screen. Suddenly, black clouds filled the sky, and the wind started up so sudden and strong that I could barely keep my footing when I stepped onto the porch. And that was the moment I realized that we had just emptied the kids' pool in the backyard this morning. I took a peek and saw it was already gone. Gin and I scanned the horizon to see where it had gone (we've lost two kiddie pools, three recycling bins and a giant inflatable jumper to wind - and we never found a trace of them). Just then, as the lightning began to strike all around, Gin spotted the pool dancing across the stubble of last year's cornfield behind our house. Ever try running in the dark through an off-year cornfield, in wind, and lightning, while wearing sandals? Gin reached the pool first and grabbed it, hanging on for dear life and the wind whipped all around. Somehow we made it back through the field just as the raindrops started to fall. We both took a while to catch our breath after that little adventure.

(Holy crap! Looks like I skipped the end of the wrong game, didn't I? How did Turkey manage to pull that one off?)

Anyway, the storm hit furiously, but it only lasted a few minutes then settled into a steady rain that went on for a couple of hours. Not what we need right now.

Oh, and my ex-pig called after discovering the redirect (because OF COURSE, he was on it AGAIN - or tried anyway). He said he thought it was funny, then insisted that I needed to "get over" myself because he's NOT obsessed with me. He claims he just found it interesting, "like the Obama stuff and that kinda thing." Uh huh. 'Cos political opinion is so hard to find anywhere online (I should be getting more traffic). He's 42 and has NEVER voted in ANY election nor shown the slightest interest or understanding in anything remotely related to politics or elections. And he's a complete bigot (once told me that he never would have married me if he'd known that I had dated a black man in college - which makes me even more baffled by the fact that he still wants me NOW). And he doesn't read - anything. But my writing is SOOOO interesting - particularly about Obama - that he was visiting once or twice a day. Uh huh. And I should really get over myself. We've been divorced for nearly six years now, and he still makes a completely nauseating pass at me or asks me to come back to him every couple of months or so - basically whenever I make the mistake of NOT being a COMPLETE bitch to him, he thinks it's a welcome mat. I can't even begin to explain how much the very thought of such a thing disgusts me.
My "footie" crush of the day: Valon Behrami

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