Monday, November 5, 2012

But Seriously, Don't Get Murdered

Happy Monday, my darlings.

The one positive thing that comes of being sick over a weekend is that I get to rule over Netflix streaming.  

Netflix is my homegirl.  She knows that I enjoy depressing political documentaries just as much as I do Ron Burgundy (and she cheats on me a little by suggesting G-d awful computer nerd documentaries for Bub). Only because I was pathetically sickly (and Bub was working in the other room) did I get to enjoy my horribly depressing documentaries in peace.

Cut to me watching "Children Underground".  Basically, to bulk up the working class not-too-many-moons ago a dictator in Romania made abortions and birth control illegal.  Now (or at least in 2001) there are horrendous amounts of homeless children living together in subway stations (imagine little orphan Annie if you took away the singing and made her huff paint).  It's all subtitled, depressing, and not the thing I need to be watching before this particular Tuesday.  This led to Bub looking up from his computer screen long enough to shout "Jesus, woman, I can't even understand a word they're saying and I'm depressed".

And on that note - your manly fact for Monday, Bubba is the worst nurse, like, ever.

Granted, I am not always the easiest patient.  I have no idea why, but if you give me a large mountain to climb physically or emotionally I will instantly turn into robo-woman, start playing eye-of-the-tiger in my head and get. that. shit. done.  (Case in point - if you count egg retrieval, I've had 3 surgeries in the last seven months and tossed in an HSG just for funsies.  Didn't bat an eye).

That being said, should I injure my thumb cleaning a wooden spoon - as I did a couple of weeks ago - this will lead to me thrusting said thumb under Bub's nose saying "I don't believe you're not more appreciative of the fact that I'm practically dying".

So my illness this weekend may or may not have resulted in me hurling my face into his lap in the least sexy way imaginable and saying "No, seriously.. Go on without me, live your life.. But should you insist on getting re-married when I'm gone, please make sure that woman always feels second best to the saintly dead wife and don't let that bitch touch any of my stuff".

Sidenote:  my Grandma has a clause in her will, apparently, that says that should my Grandpa get married after, woman number two is not allowed any of her stuff.  I'm with her.. Should I die I'm not going to say shit about 'get re-married and be happy'.  I want Bub to get all Biblical and hurl himself off a rock into a holy river.. is that so wrong?


In other news, several friends who I thought for sure would be murdered have not been.

Mr. T., the gay husband, has arrived back from a gay cruise for a few days before he gets travel crazy for shows.  Now, if we listen to the gospel according to Dateline (as I do) cruises are not in fact romantic getaways but where you go if you're trying to murder someone.  Seriously - every other weekend it's some newly widowed man-woman looking into the camera with a glint in their eye saying "prove it, asswipe, prove it". 

I made sure to point out before he departed that should his husband, or any guy for that matter, suggest a 3 AM stroll around the boat that he's not being romantic, he's trying to shove you off the side. (Even in Titanic, for chrissakes, Rose is clearly a murderer because if she really wanted to save Jack she could've have done something crazy like I don't know... shoved over on that door, a bit).  Pleased to announce that Mr. T is back on dry land.

My darling friend Jessica went to Paris, Spain... and a few less safe places.  Places where a woman needs to wear a Burka, and she has a mouth on her like I do.  (Suffice it to say I will be never going anywhere where a Burka is required.. because I would be murdered). She has arrived back in NY.  

Last but certainly not least, my snazzy bad ass sister-in-law, Bubella.  On Sunday morning Bubella left me a panicked (and hilarious) voice mail because she was home alone, she and a friend were upstairs, heard a noise, came down to investigate, and all the cabinet doors in her kitchen were open and stuff was moved around.  Turns out another friend had been dropped off in the morning, saw that the front door was unlocked, and played a trick on her (Bubella was home alone for the weekend). 

My first reaction was to laugh, and then I went into what the fuck are you doing with the front door unlocked?

Now granted, she lives in a good neighborhood but Bub and I's first apartment was a mile or two away - and in the ghetto.  Seriously.  I had neighbors slash my tires, there were break-ins, and every time I went to the local 7-11 I had a homeless man try to wedge himself into my car.

So I did my best to scare the crap out of her, and explain to her quite rightly that there are literally men in her neighborhood who drive around non-stop with their willies out, Friday through Monday, looking for teenage girls home alone.  And if I ever hear she forgets to lock the door again I'm going to come light her hair on fire.

Man, I'm such a good sister.  

As I have mentioned before - we have a friend relationship.  I'm not parental or authoritative in any way, unless of course she starts injecting heroin into her eyeballs. I figured long ago, should I not die a Burka-related death and poor Bub be forced to hurl himself off a rock, most of her life we're going to be adult-friends.  Case in inappropriate point, my handy work when she visited last summer:


That's a vulva with wings on her forehead in case you were wondering.

Could not love this girl more.  Oddly enough, if you count all my siblings - biological, in-law, whatever - I technically have 4 (all of whom could legally marry each other, by the way). Bubella is the only one I never shared any genes or upbringing with, and she is by far the one I am closest to and the most similar to.

My fantastic, wildly creative, unfuckingbelievable sister-in-law Miss Bubella has started a blog.  I'm so excited I don't know if I'll be able to stop shaking long enough to light her hair on fire if need be. Go, Read, Follow, Encourage, Tell her of the willie-men.






27 comments:

  1. I'm with you. Being sick transforms me into a sad, snotty, sniveling wimp. Feel better soon!

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    1. Thank you Chiquita! I'm on the up and up.

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  2. I spit my water halfway across the room at the homeless man wedging himself in your car!

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    1. EVERY TIME. He once tried to hurl himself in through my barely-opened window..

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  3. ummm yeah no sharing, what so ever!! Husbands will never get it, you literately have to have an organ in your hand to prove a point. Love the vulva with wings...you are way to clever. I was thinking of you last night. I went to see "Book of Mormon." You could write that shit, it had your humor all over it!!

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    1. OMG! I so want to see that! People keep telling me I need to go... Damnit I love dancing mormons.

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    2. Ooooh, I saw this show on Halloween night! It took us over 4 hours to get from Santa Monica to Sunset, but OH SO WORTH IT. Totally badass.

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    3. Son of a - am I like the only one who hasn't seen this? Damn I have to research this.

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  4. Burka related death... One of my irrational fears!

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    1. Oh yess.. DEFINITELY one of my irrational fears.

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  5. I'm the worst patient in the world...mostly because I try to nurse myself back to health and I'm kind of a mean nurse when the patients are whiney. Glad you're feeling better and def get that message to Bubella....I'll help in any way I can ;)

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    1. Yesss! willie messages for teenagers! I'll slap you around a little bit next time you're sick.

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  6. I love Bubella, I wish I had a cute younger SIL (mine is older than me and a stressy headed worry wart). I am rushing over to check out her blog this very moment.

    I moan A LOT when I am sick but Kitt is generally very sweet about it although not so good at practical help. If I am sick we will have take out for the duration rather than nourishing healthy get me better food.

    I was in a play about the Romanian revolution once, man, that was a fun few weeks (it wasn't). So depressing.

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    1. I had no idea.. it literally has me thinking if we should ever go the adoption route that I should pay extra-close attention to adopting from abroad.

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  7. "Should I die I'm not going to say shit about 'get re-married and be happy'. I want Bub to get all Biblical and hurl himself off a rock into a holy river.. is that so wrong?"

    Nope. That's pretty much how I want things to go down with J if I die.

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  8. If I went over to your teen SILs blog and told her about Willie men, I'm pretty sure I'd be arrested as some online pervert.

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    1. Hahaha don't pretend you wouldn't be arrested for that, anyway.

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  9. It's always nice when friends don't get murdered after you think that they might. A friend of mine thought I was going to be killed by my future husband after I flew to Mexico for a "second date" with him. A few years later, and although I'm sure he's been tempted from time to time, he hasn't ... yet.

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    1. Second date?! What?! I need to hear this.

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  10. I am the whiniest, neediest sick person. Luckily, hubby is super wonderful as long as I tell him exactly what I want. If I try to play the martyr or something ("No, honey, I'll be fine. You go hang out with your friends"), he will take me at my word and leave.

    I hope you rejoin the land of the living soon!

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    1. Haha oh I have to give Bub very specific directions. "You will feed me in a couple of hours. You will find me gorgeous with kleenex up my nose." etc. etc.

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  11. I watched 'Children Underground' while mending after my 2nd m/c. I agree with you, not the most uplifting. Not the most uplifting at all.

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    1. Holy Gawd - had I seen that after mending from mine... Man alive.

      Although it does make a lovely case for going to foreign countries and kidnapping children.

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    2. Funny. I had the same thought.

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  12. According to an episode of Mythbusters Rose could have taken her life vest off and tied it to the underside of the door thus saving not only herself but her man as well. The door would have been buoyant enough to have stayed above water long enough with both of them on it for the rescue boat to arrive. Alas it wasn't in the script and Jack had to die!

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    1. My point has always been - Rose can lay exactly as she was and have Jack lay right smack down on top of her. Added bonus - BODY HEAT.

      I know, I know it's just a script.. But couldn't they at least have worked out some realistic situation in which he would've had to have drowned? Or at least made it seem like they tried for more than 30 seconds before going "well, that's it.. I know we've been busting our humps for the last hour trying to stay alive, but this door thing is the last straw". ;)

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