Happy V-Day

Mickey�s MRI appointment has been postponed until next month. His cold is icky and he can�t have it done if he�s sick.

Beavis and Minnie had physicals today. With the nurse practitioner, not the doctor. Which means she has more time to nitpick than the doc and that she does. Not that it�s a bad thing, I like her because she�s thorough, but again it�s a little irritating too. Because I have to make three appointments now: 1. For Beavis at the dermatologist to look at a mole, 2. With an orthopedist for Beavis to look at his thumb because evidentally it�s fucked up from playing video games (!!!) and 3. With a pediatric orthopedist for Minnie, who�s feet kind of turn in. Oh and Beavis is going to need to see an optometrist and Minnie should see an orthodonist for her underbite. So technically that�s five appointments.

Fucking kids.

Well, folks, let�s go back and look at a paragraph in this entry , which says: �Ned just called. He sounded remarkably sober and well. I will not take this as any kind of indication that he might be on the road to getting his shit together. Because it�s not.� Of course, unfortunately, I was right. Ned�s back as a guest of the state again. He wrote my dad a letter saying it was for �the usual stuff� but gave no indication of how long he�ll be there. He also said the cops beat him up pretty bad and he needed clothes because his are all bloody.

Whatever it was, I think he had a hand in getting himself beat up by the cops. I don�t think they just randomly beat people up, not that much anyway, I mean some cops are fuckers but I don�t think they are around here, for the most part. Unless you�re an asshole and are looking for it, they are more than happy to be assholes right back.

Anyway, Nina had invited us over for dinner last night and I found out the news about Ned just a few hours before, so at least I went over there with a juicy tidbit.

So, even though we didn�t go to Boston today, I still didn�t take any kids. I want the day off. I went running around with the kids this morning and am going to go to the grocery store shortly. I dusted and vacuumed the living room and it looks and smells fantabulous. I�m even going to start some laundry. I�m fucking motivated, man.

Hub is home, �trapped� because every truck he has, his or the business�s, is in the shop. Go, Hub. At least the business�s is being paid for by his boss, because a stipulation of the buyout contract says all the equipment needs to be in working order as of closing. But, still, he�s here. He�s downstairs cleaning out the basement and coming up and bitching about Beavis because he�s like the most disgusting slob ever. Oh and then he came up because Beavis put holes in a wall down there. And he was sawing wood down there (???) and there�s sawdust and pieces of wood everywhere down there.

I am laughing may ass off at that last sentence, I don�t know why but it strikes me as hilarious. Fucking kid. It just payback to me, because I was a disgusting slob as a kid too. And I wrecked a lot of shit. If I couldn�t wreck it, I�d just write on it with permanent marker or maybe a can of spray paint. And then there were the �experiments�. Oh, yeah, what happens if we mix the Jean Nate body splash with a shredded bar of soap and�hmm�polident! And then leave it there for a long time. I won�t even talk about the cake mix that got left in my closet for, um, maybe a year.

So, it�s payback. I got the curse, too, �I hope when you have kids they turn out just like you!�. Yup, rest assured, they are. So, this is why, when Hub came stomping up the stairs just now and appeared around the corner with a dirty coffee mug, which has the (old) remnants of hot cocoa at the bottom, and said, �In his fucking bureau drawer�, I could only bust out laughing. Because I was thinking at least it�s not the cake mix.

Anyway, of course I have little time for this and everybody on my buddy list has updated. Where the fuck are you people when I�m bored? Sheesh. I�ll be slow catching up today.

And I have gotten nothing for Valentine�s Day. Which is fine with me. I told him not to get me anything and he actually listened to me. He thinks I�m going to trash him to my friends and say, �He didn�t even get me anything for Valentine�s Day� but I guess he�s never paid much attention to my friends. None of them give a crap about Valentine�s Day. Like me. Big fucking deal. It�s just a conspiracy of jewelers, florists and candy companies is all.

My most memorable V-Day was in the 9th grade, when the school was doing candy grams. I got one from a secret admirer. That was so cool. I didn�t know who sent it until a few years later, a guy that had a crush on me all through junior high and high school. One of the guys I should have dated, but didn�t.

This is impossible with all of Hub�s interruptions.

I�m out, yo.

Listening to: "Look at me, Mommy! Look! Mommy! Lookit! Mama!" She can't figure out she's being ingnored.

Currently reading: "Bad Boy" Olivia Goldsmith

Thinking about: Making a list and going grocery shopping. You wish you were me, admit it.