Sorry everyone (read all 12 of you). I have been on a long hiatus. But, just like the herps, when you think they've disappeared for good, they rear their ugly head. Mine just has 1/2 inch brown roots.
I really do have an excuse, or more accurately, excuses. And, seriously, I really couldn't make this up. For starters, a celebrity couple, one of which is currently filming a movie in the Port, was living in my house. So, the hubs and I moved in with my folks. Bad. Move.
I love my parents dearly, but it didn't take long to realize why you aren't supposed to live with your parents at 32. I said that I was going to keep a diary, but only made it through Days 1 and 2...chronicling any further days would have surely induced carpel tunnel syndrome--there is just too damn much.
Day 1:
Mom got mad at me because I thought she was joking when she said she would be serving a full brunch on Sunday morning. Biscuits, eggs, sausage, juice...you get the picture. I think the last time my mom made brunch was 1981. I mean, she's the one that espoused that she only cooks twice a year: Thanksgiving and Christmas. I guess it's ok for her to say it, but not me?
She then stated that Sunday brunch is a "tradition" at the house. What? I guess I missed that tradition the last 1,664 Sundays of my life.
Finally during the day of said brunch, she got pissed that nobody would help her make said brunch. When asked what we could help with, she couldn't think of one thing. Not one damn thing.
Later that evening, I offered to park my mom's car in the garage. She can't do it herself, nor can she navigate a drive-through or make left hand turns. But that's neither here nor there. She declined, because she said it had to be backed in. Apparently this woman who is a doctor believes that only men can back cars into parking spaces. Hmmm.
*Dear Sister, please don't be mad at me for making fun of Mom. Mom, if you're reading this, please don't cut me out of your will.
Day 2
I woke up this morning, and my dad had a fire going in the fireplace. In April. In Louisiana. I checked the indoor temp. It was a frigid 82 degrees.
Thankfully the hubs left town this morning. Not because I didn't desire his company, but because two nights in my childhood double bed with two people and two dogs, just wasn't cutting the mustard.
I'll spare you the next eight days.
We were supposed to be out of our house for a total of six weeks. But, after 10 days of harassment, phone calls, and high school boys trying to fight the celebrity male, they decided to move to a gated community.
Woo hoo! We get to move back in!
For two days.
Insert 200-year-old tree falling through our house. Back to Mom and Dad's...
That same day Sidibey Sidiki, Aminata Ndyaia and some of their BFF's stole my AmEx and purchased multiple airline tickets for their travels. Oh, and travel insurance should anything happen with their trip. Like getting it canceled, because they stole my card to purchase their trip.
I googled them and thought about calling them to teach them a lesson, but quickly realized that they could probably reek a lot more havoc on my life than I could on theirs. After all, they know how to steal credit cards while still in someone's wallet. I only know how to become psychotic when someone steals my credit card.
So, my mom suggested a walk to relax me. Half way in, a bird shit on me. I wish I was joking.
I don't know who I effed with and at one point, but Karma sure as hell bent me over.
