I'm So Glad I'm not Flying to South Africa this morning ... and other tidbits of news

I awoke from a very intense dream about an upcoming trip to South Africa. I looked this up once, and one of the legs of the trip is 17 hours. I'm sorry, but the thought of flying to TX next week has me annoyed, but 17 hours in a plane without a break? I can't imagine doing that.

Now, as an aside (and I just remembered this), I knew for sure that I was going because of the poop pile on my floor. Wherever I was living there was a hole in the floor the size of a toilet paper holder. The way they were sending messages to me was by sending up a toilet paper holder with a turd in it that would flip out of the hole and land on the floor. The turd would lie there and it was my job to put the empty toilet paper holder thingy back in the hole. Each turd that was sent up represented more money that they had raised for my trip to South Africa.

So anyway, I was going there to translate, which is a little odd, since I speak Spanish and English, not Zulu or Afrikaans. But nonetheless, they were going to pay for my trip. When the turd pile had reached the exact number of turds, I had a crushing realization that I would be taking that trip. I immediately began to get ready to go running (because I'm such an avid runner you know) so that I could lose weight so I could fit in the plane seat, and my entire being was filled with dread -- about the trip, about the exercise, about translating a language I didn't know.... it was SUCH a relief to wake up and discover that I only have to live my life today and that I don't have to fly to South Africa.

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Yesterday I got the very classy clock radio you see about for about 25% of the price as it was on clearance and the floor model. While we were in the store I was commenting to the clerk about how having our Iphones next to each other all night like that would have to improve our marriage and that it seemed like another step toward greater intimacy. Sadie, of course, was appalled and said to me, in front of the clerk, "Mom, you're scaring her." I assured Sadie that I was not scaring the clerk, calling her by the name on her nametag, but that she thought I was funny and likeable. Sadie wasn't so sure.

The clock radio is the very coolest and I feel like a wealthy person to have it. I looked at it many times last night as our Iphones lay snug together on the charger. I feel closer to Bart already.

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I didn't go to the Y because Kari is sick. I know, I know, that is weak. But I'm still coughing up a lung anyway and if Kari wouldn't be there when I passed out then I might have a stranger lying over me and saying, "Victim, Victim, are you OK?" which would totally make me crazy.

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Note to adult children: If you don't want your men friends to see your mother in her red and black polka dot pajamas with your post-reductions sagging, then dont' bring them into the house unannounced after ten.

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I have to go to both the doctor and the dentist today. I don't want to go to the dentist. I think that one of the funniest broadway movie songs ever written is "Be a dentist" sung by the sadist played by Steve Green in the movie, "Little Shop of Horrors. I really like my dentist, but I will only get six minutes to spend with him during which he will tell me that I have a cracked filling that will really start bothering me if I don't get it fixed... which he said last year, and I've never noticed anything. The rest of my time will be spent listening to a hygienist, while I cannot respond, lecturing me on how much flossing will help me, which I also heard last year.

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I never finished my list of 101 things that must be done this week. Nor did I finish anything on the list. I mean if you can't even finish the list.... you know what I'm saying?

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I would love to have another blog that was completely anonymous where I could be totally inappropriate. I mean, like way more inappropriate than I am now. Some of you think I'm already inappropriate enough (I typed that word wrong all three times I wrote it in the last 20 seconds and had to correct it every time. Whatever!) But then if nobody knew it was me, what would be the point of being hilariously inappropriate? I wouldn't get any recognition or any money.... Of course, Bart is already suffering from my personality enough, so I guess it could get tied back to me and get him in trouble, so I guess I won't start one. Cuz yesterday I said the word penis outloud when I was teaching adult Sunday School, which wasn't fully appreciated by all, especially not him because it was his penis. But it was totally in context. I was all like, "Teenagers ARE more immoral now than they were 30 years ago. I mean did any girl in 9th grade ever ask you to hand you a photograph of your penis?" And this was completely within the context of a rant about sexting that is obviously a topic covered in great detail in Romans 3. See, I told you it was in context.

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If you have gotten this far then you are fortunate, because I have had to rewrite the whole last three paragraphs because Blogger is a lot of inappropriate things and didn't save half of my entry. So, I want you to think and ponder for a minute what it would be like to be around me all the time. My "crew" up in the "crib" in Fergus last week learned that I'm much funnier NOT in person. Ask them.

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I have a zillion things to do and now I have not once, but twice, given you all of my creative energy by 7:25. Whatever will I do for the rest of today. Oh yeah. The dentist. Ick.