Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Zinger

I know the suspense has been killing you, so let me get it over with and tell you that: I caved.  Not the first day, but the second.  I got that delicious Butterfinger, I put it in the fridge, and when the kid was playing at the neighbors, I sat down to watch a French film on DVD, and I ate that Butterfinger.  It was every bit as good as I anticipated.  The movie however, was only okay.  It was a lot of Kristen Scott Thomas looking sad and tortured, which she does very well, but still...

Leila is leaving in about an hour, and I'm pretty much not going to see her again until Friday evening.  Do you know what this means?  NO AUDIOBOOKS FOR TWO DAYS!!!  I can listen to grown up podcasts, and music!  Or nothing!  I can enjoy sweet silence!  I think I'll repaint the backs of my living room cabinets.  I really love how $17 worth of paint can make such an impact.  Actually, no one will really be cable to see them.  I just told my mom that they've been purple for 13 years, and she was flabbergasted.  She had no idea.

Speaking of my mom, she gave me one of her zingers the other day.  You may remember that she is not a native English speaker and when you add a martini to that, zingers are what you get.  She was describing to me how an eight year-old spoke at her friends funeral and had done an amazing job.  She meant to say that what the girl said was a little corny, but that she had been such a great speaker, every one was murmuring about it.  What she actually said was, "Sure, she was a little horny, but everyone was rumouring about it."

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