February 21, 2007

As my girlfriend and I were leaving the restaurant we had lunch in just now, she asked me why I wasn't carrying a purse.

"Everything I need is right here in my pants" I replied.

Ain't that the truth. What more could a gal want. Unless it's what you've got in your pants.

I'm just sayin'.

She called me this morning for an impromptu lunch date. My kind of date. I love having no plans and then all of a sudden, lunch with a friend. No having to adjust the calendar or work around stuff. Either I'm in or I'm out.

And I was so in because all I was doing was painting shelving for the kitchen. Which is a good thing because if I'm painting something that means that something got built that I have to paint. And I'm all about forward motion in the remodelling.

So I painted one side of the shelves, had lunch, ran to the grocery store to pick up half and half so I'd have enough to get me through this upcoming weekend's winter storm they're threatening me with, and then came home to flip the shelves over and paint the other side.

Only I decided to stop at the computer and tell you that everything I need is in my pants so I don't have to carry a purse. Cash. Cash Card. Phone. Keys. Driver's License. Underwear. Just the pair I'm wearing, not a spare. Although with my bladder control issues, I should stock up a pocket with extra panties.

Was that too much information?

You mean it wasn't too much when I mentioned that I had everything I needed in my pants?

I just love you and your boundaries.

While I was walking through the grocery store I kept catching old women looking at me and my head. Some would smile, some would give me a scowl. Those are the ones, I bet, that didn't leave the store without an Enquirer in their bag.

Last night I had my first birthday present class. We're fusing glass plates and glass plate bases. Only there is mutiny in the fusing room. When the teacher walked out of the room we all voted and decided that we thought the plate base was ugly and useless and we weren't gonna do it. No way. Come at us, glass boy, we're not havin' it!

Now you'd think that I was the captain of that mutiny, but I was not. I was willing to go ahead and fuse my plate to that ugly base and call it a lesson learned. But the other two women in the class were going to have none of it.

I can't wait to see how this goes next week. I think Glass Boy likes his glass plate base. He's in for a rude awakening. I hope he's not as fragile as the glass.

One of the women in class is the type who finishes your sentence for you. It's weird. She's really nice but she finishes everyone's sentences as they're saying them. Kind of like "I said it first" only in an "I can't help this! Please! I'm sick! I can't stop finishing other people's sentences and it looks so damn weird" way.

I quit talking to her because it was really just so bizarre to have her saying my last words while I was saying my last words.

What is up with that?

Maybe there was just an echo in the room. And she accidentally had her mouth shaped in the words of what everyone just happened to be saying at the end of their sentence. That would be more cool than irritating.

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