We’ve spent the better part of the weekend moving crap from our garage to the new house’s garage, sweating, cursing, bleeding, and making what I’m sure is a fabulous impression on the new neighbors. Mike and Dad started scraping the balloon wallpaper in Arden’s room - it didn’t go as well as they had hoped. Mike took a break to help me unload the truck (Steve loaned us his - thanks, bro), and stabbed his finger on an exacto blade that was hanging out in the truck bed for some reason. While Mike gushed blood, Mom drove to the closest drugstore for bandages. The girls were all fired up in their new space, having competions to see who could make the louder noise in a house with wood floors and no furniture.
The first words our neighbors to the right of us heard us say were probably “Lily, STOP SPITTING RIGHT NOW! THAT’S DISGUSTING!” She was spraying spittle all over the new outdoor rug and running around with mashed potatoes smeared all over her face. Arden was even worse - she had her fingers in everyone’s mashed potatoes and had some in her hair, ear, and all over her face. It was like an orgy of food. Meanwhile, the Southern Living Garden Magazine Centerfold that lives next to us probably thought it was time to put their house on the market. We are loud, dirty, and I know that Mike and I were smelly from a day in 100% humidity and moving. Plus, I think the last time Mike saw the inside of the shower was Friday morning. Ewwww.
Speaking of humidity, what the hell is up with Virginia? Is it really necessary for any place to be this hot? How can the temperature gauge tell me it’s only 80, yet 5 minutes outside liquifies me? I’m not really a sweaty person by nature (oh, sorry mom - I mean, I don’t normally PERSPIRE . . .ladies don’t sweat, we PERSPIRE), but Virginia sucks all water from my body within seconds during the summer. I hate summer here. I really do. I nearly really made a nuisance (and an ass) of myself by jumping uninvited into the neighbor’s perfect pool today, fully clothed and very sweaty.
Posts will be sporadic until the Comcast people deign to grace me with their presence and hook us up. I’m also really tired and looking forward to drooling on myself as I watch Seinfeld and pass out in bed.
