Wow. You weren't expecting all that down there, were ya? Well, thanks again. I feel better having told you.
And now I am SURE you are just DYING to know all about Phoenix. Maybe that can be the new theme of this blog...I'll travel all over North America, pretend to live in different cities for a few months and then give you the scoop. Because I care. I'm nice like that.
So, back to me. We left with, well, nothing. I only have one pair of unreasonably
comfortable shoes (two things I have never been accused of: being sexy or being fashionable; see link above) and I couldn't justify bringing the world's greatest kitchen gadget
...so I have been busily starting to accumulate all those little things that clutter your drawers and that you take for granted every day.
I went to Ikea the other day to look for beds for the boys (because as much as I love my sister in law and am grateful for her taking in me and my minions, if I have to sleep on that nasty old leather couch much longer someone will suffer. Greatly.) The doors to Ikea opened and I smelled a lovely new smell. The smell of possibility. Ikea and me, we're cool. I kind of have a crush on Ikea. And suddenly, I have an EXCUSE for Ikea. Danger, Will Robinson!
Sorry, I got sidetracked. Damn you Ikea! I can't quit you!
Seriously, there I go again.
So, like I was saying, I'm starting to get stuff. Wanna see my first big girl all on her own purchase? It is a total necessity and there is no way my life could go on without it.
See? HAD to own it. Wanna see the second purchase for my shiny new life? Of course you do!
I may have gross, hairy legs because I have not yet bought razors, but goddamn it, if you need a peach cobbler, I've got you covered. Pampered Chef products ALWAYS trump almost everything else in life. And I got them at a yard sale from someone who clearly did not know what to charge for them, so that's nice.
What else? Oh yeah, I have completely lost my mind. I have gone, like, crazy
and shit, yo. Case in point. I few days after The Exodus, the S.I.L. and I were hopping in the car and she happened to notice that I had left the Gucci purse on the hood of the car. I grabbed it and we were off. A few days later, on my way to get the boys from school, I not only SAW the Gucci bag on the front of the car, I saw it take the flying leap OFF the front of the car onto a very busy street, and it still did not register until I got all the way to the school and all the way home again. I backtracked, but it was gone. The police called a bit later and said that someone had turned it in, complete with all the money I had in the whole entire world and the one credit card I hold. I picked it up from the police station and it did indeed contain all of my things, though slightly flatter and less Gucci-esk.
Whew. Switched to Target purse. Lesson learned. Until the other day when I got home from the grocery and noticed that I was oddly bagless. I remembered putting the purse on the hood while I buckled up the baby, but couldn't say with any amount of certainty what my next step was. I called the grocery and had them search for it, to no avail. We hopped back in the car, drove back down the same busy street as before and as well rolled up to the Safeway we saw a $1 bill floating down the road. The rest of that long saga contains bits about me running down said busy road, shoeless, weaving in and out of traffic picking up cards laying about the road. The $50 and the great great great chapstick I had were gone, but I got back the card, the debit card, the Colorado driver's license and the shiny new Arizona driver's license I had just got a few hours before. Whew. Lesson learned. Until a day later when I was out early hitting yard sales because I came here with, like, nothing and I need shit cheap and when I got home I couldn't find either my debit card or the $20 I had out for gas. Shit. So I hopped back in the car and backtracked. If you have ever gone yardsaling with me, you would realize what a flipping ridiculous thing this "backtracking" really was. But I tried. To no avail. Until I suddenly remembered that I had worn my uber-sexy capri jeans to a PTA thingy the night before and had brought my card along just in case. Back to home, where I found my card safely wrapped in the $20, tucked away in my hot pants (you can't be the only one, Dunkie).
I need a chip implanted into my elbow or something with all my bank account and state issued identification information stored on it. Of course, I'd probably leave that on the hood of my car, too. Idiot.
Now I just have to find a job. Andy thinks I should do a Tron inspired strip dance rountine at one of the many fine adult establishments in town. I was thinking more along the lines of hash-slinging (the legal kind, you naughty people), but maybe Andy is on to something. I would totally have a corner on THAT market.
Ooooh! I almost forgot! L will NOT be getting dentures for her first birthday after all. My little girl got her second tooth today. I'm glad to see that her life is one of such leisure that she is not in any hurry to do anything, even growing teeth so she can feed her painfully cute face.
And I have one other thing to confess. I kind of met someone. I kind of really
like him. He's bigger than I'm used to, and louder than I'm used to, but we're spending an awful lot of time together and he's growing on me. He comes with me to pick the boys up from school sometimes and we all go to the grocery store together, too. I never thought he'd be my type, but what do I know? Wanna see a picture? Click right here