What a fun couple of days we�ve been having.
And when I say fun, I mean they haven�t been.
As chronicled by Wombat the other day, spring showed up in New Jersey. As a result, it snowed like a mofo last night. My normally shitty 32 mile commute became a 2 � hour adventure in frustration. That�s always nice. I like it when I get to see my daughter for 40 minutes a day. That�s fun. No, really, it is.
Our adventures in real estate continue. Our realtor�s a total idiot. For some unknown reason, we extended our contract by a month. We did so after a price reduction and a reduction from the agent. I don�t think she likes us anymore. She�s not calling us to follow up on anything and last week, managed to put 2 ads for our house in the paper. One under the old MLS number and price, one with the new information. We don�t think she�s ever sold a house. If she has, it hasn�t been since the Ford Administration. We have a friend who works for YellowSignRealtrs and has offered to step in and get us out of the contract all together. I think we�re going to do that. It�s not worth the hassle at this point. Plus, I always thought the whole idea of trying to sell one�s house was to actually sell it. What the hell do I know from real estate anyway?
I hate Rachel Ray. As you all know, she hosts the hideous $40 a Day show on The Food Network. The premise, for the uninitiated, is that she goes city to city proving that one can eat 3 meals for under $40. Of course, you need to be willing to swallow mule and get your ass pounded to really effectively do so. So, on Tuesday, JewelrySlut�s all excited because Ol�Rach is in Orlando. JewelrySlut wants to see the episode because we like Disney and it, conveniently, is located in the Orlando area. I really wasn�t interested. I had by fantasy baseball draft going on and was doing my best to draft a team worse than your average NY Mets squad. So, we watched the episode. It was horrid. I hate her and her stupid show. I do, however, like to make comments from the perspective of the restaurant owner/waiter as she traipses about. The comments are mostly centered around the horrible sexual favors she has to perform in order to get all her food for under $40. So, while in Orlando, she�s at some fondue joint. She�s there sitting with some truly horrified family of yokels who don�t seem to understand why this twat has crashed their fondue snack. I figured that afterwards, Mr. Garfinkle would pound her in the ass; Mrs. would be making sure the carpet matched the drapes, and Rach would be introducing the 2 kids to the wonders of oral sex. JewelrySlut came up with a much better line.
As I bounce through this entry like a bunny on crack, let�s discuss Easter.
We�re off to the NoGoodParents� house on Saturday. SecretAgentBrother will be there. This should be a horror show. SecretAgentBrother�s marriage has recently broken up and he�s coming up from DC for the weekend. I�ll add that his marriage lasted all of 21 months. Nice. Real nice. So, he�s now 25 and about to be divorced. Now, I�m not saying that you can�t get married at a young age. I got married at 22 and am thrilled to have done so. However, some people aren�t ready to get married at 23, and SecretAgentBrother is one of those people. So, NoGoodMother has decided that we should get together on Saturday and all drink our sorrows away. This should be mint. If I get too drunk, we run the risk of a major international incident. As the pariah of the family, I have a little bit of pent up anger. Like over how the NoGoodParents decided last summer to get a divorce. That lasted 3 weeks. They also said that while I wasn�t THE reason, I was a big reason. Excuse me? You�re blaming ME for 32 years of non-communication? Sure. Did I also mention that they were doing this while JewelrySlut�s mother was dying? Did I also mention that when JewelrySlut�s mother did pass away, they showed no emotion or support? Did I mention how pissed JewelrySlut remains about this? Oh, and did I mention how the NoGoodParents told me back in 1996 that unless SecretAgentBrother was my best man (he was 16 at the time), they wouldn�t go to the wedding? Did I also mention that in 2003 when he was getting married, SecretAgentBrother didn�t even ask me to be in the wedding party?
Yea�if I start drinking, it could get very ugly. VERY UGLY
And, to backtrack even farther�
We went to this retirement party last weekend for a coworker of JewelrySlut�s over at LittleBlueBoxCompany. This was interesting. You see, there�s a reason why all the races don�t have to get along and do everything in harmony. You see�we�re different. We do different things, talk in different ways, eat different foods, dress differently, and tend to enjoy different things. Anyone who wants us all to be together and hold hands and be happy is an asshole with no concept of reality.
The guest of honor is black. Surprisingly, her extended family also is black. They�re also from Newark, so they�re straight out of da hood. We, on the other hand, have a dairy farm at the end of our street. See the difference?
I learned the following on Saturday night:
I don�t have enough shoes. I need blue ones, red ones, purple ones, tan ones and all other colored ones. Te 2 pairs of brown and 2 pairs of black that I have clearly aren�t getting it done.
It�s never the wrong time to wear stripes. Multi-colored stripes. Stripes on big huge shirts.
It�s always Ok to dress like a pimp.
Capes/drapes indeed are in style. Especially if they�re of a multitude of colors.
I don�t love the Baby Jesus enough.
They really do like watermelon.
The party, from our perspective, was a fiasco. We sat quietly and ate and then left. The rest of the time, we traded glances and under-the-table kicks and pinches. We were seated at a table with a few family members of the guest of honor. They were straight out of The Klumps. Except, that is, for the woman next to me. The deaf woman next to me. The deaf woman with a mustache next to me. She looked like Latrell Sprewell. Once the music started, she hit the dance floor and seemed to be practicing her jump shot. She�s dance around a little, spot up a J, and continues dancing. It was beyond strange. The dance floor was a sea of rhythm. Needless to say, I was not among those on the floor. I decided, as I told JewelrySlut, �They got the dance moves; we got the higher salaries and larger houses. I�m OK with that.� Was that wrong to say?
Difference is OK. Once it�s accepted, we�re all off better.
Afterwards, we went to our hotel and drank a bottle of champagne and had sex. I guess that makes up for the party fiasco. And, we�d already had sex at the hotel before the party. AWESOME!
Oh...and I think I'm going to start adding comments to my diary since no one else seems to be doing so.