This One's For the People Behind Us

I meant to post right after I got home today, but I wound up having to sand and cook and take a nap.  I hope I remember things correctly.

The first thing I woke up to today, was Pie telling me my hair was ugly.  What a nice start!  That's okay, though--I had a movie date today with one of the most fantastic people I'm lucky enough to know.  Friend (no, that's not for anonymity, that's really what we call each other) and I went to see Gnomeo and Juliet.  I thought it was really fun.  That might be partly because of my interest in tacky lawn ornaments, particularly gnomes.  If my husband wasn't such a funsucker, my yard would be littered with that stuff!  We have this discussion once a month or so.

Mr. Funsucker:  (Heavy sigh and/or dramatic eyeroll) Bean, we already have the ugliest yard on the block.  You're not adding a dozen plastic flamingos.

Me:  Here comes the funcuum.  (At the point, Pie will sometimes join in, which is great!  Still doesn't help my case, but it's good to know she's on my side.)

Speaking of, I saw this at Lowes the other day:

 I will win this one!

I need to have it.  Even if George won't let me put it in the yard.  I could put it in the living room or something, and it would just be like a big explosion of happy every time I look at it.

Since I'm already off topic, I've also decided to try to get a one day a week job at the movie theater.  My sole purpose in doing this is to get first dibs on the promotional materials, which would make excellent decorations for my (coming soon) home theater.  Years ago, I had a friend who worked at a movie theater, and her big gripe about it was only getting one day a week.  That's perfect!

Anyway, I really enjoyed the movie.  I'm glad I went with Friend.  We laughed at all the same things, which would make sense, except no one else laughed at the parts we found amusing.  I don't know if we were doing it wrong, or they were.  I'm going with them, because Friend and I are just that great.  Or, at least Friend is.  Pie seemed to like it when we were there, but when we got home she bitched to George that we didn't see Tangled again.  She's also holding a grudge because I wouldn't let her get the popcorn refill after the movie.  I was going to, but she set the bucket opening side down on the bathroom floor.  I'm not one to worry too much about most things, but that's disgusting.

After the movie, we went to Wendy's.  We really didn't need to go to Wendy's, considering the three of us had just demolished a whole bucket of popcorn, but Pie said she was hungry, coffee sounded good, and Friend and I had plenty of things to discuss.

Whenever Friend and I go out, I end up feeling sorry for the people behind us.  Our conversations are probably the stuff other people's nightmares are made of.  Actually, our conversations, for the most part, probably make no sense to anyone else, but I still look around and hush my voice before I say certain things.  I'm incredibly paranoid, sometimes.

At one point, Pie was relentlessly singing the Spooky Loo song from her Wee Sing for Halloween CD and otherwise be annoying.  Friend was telling me about the delightful paint she bought.  The color was called "Cracker Bits".  I asked the obvious question.

"Wait...?  Is it like the color of saltines or, like, Cheez-Its?"  I really hope to one day meet someone who painted their room the color of Cheez-Its.  Maybe I'll paint Pie's room that color.  It'll be a punishment if she wakes me up to tell me my hair is ugly again.  Friend's paint is the color of Ritz crackers.  How disappointing!

Most of our other discussions would make very little to no sense here, and to be honest, I don't really remember how they went, but toward the end, Pie was getting tired.  Tired Pie is a bad thing--whiny, obnoxious, and full of things only she finds funny.  (Wonder where she gets that from...)  She kept asking me for a drink of my coffee.  Pie needed coffee just about as much as I need chlamydia, so I did the thing that made the most sense.  I lied!

"It's not coffee."

"What is it?"

I put absolutely no thought into my response.  "Blood."

That shut her up a bit, while Friend and I continued our chat about her crazy roommate who's going to turn into Jesus in two years and probably poisoned all the beverages in their refrigerator.  I hope Friend gets a mini fridge and a padlock. 

But nothing keeps Pie--especially tired Pie--quiet for too long.  Five minutes later, she asked as loud as she possibly could, "Can I have a drink of your blood?"

Friend and I lost it.  Over the years, I've learned not to wear eye makeup when I go out with Friend, because tears are an inevitable part of the package.  There they were, streaming down my face, as the old people behind us stared in abject terror.  Clearly, it was time to go.  As we left, Friend informed me she expected this to make the blog.

Old People behind us, if you ever find and read this, apologies to you!  I hope we didn't ruin your Wendy's experience (although, in our defense, the coffee was old, and Pie's food was lukewarm, so I don't know how positive it could have been to begin with) and I swear that no one in my family drinks blood.

In other exciting news, I got home to find that George had finished almost a whole window and replaced both of the dead electrical outlets in my living room.  That's great, because I'm really going to need somewhere to plug in my flamingo!