Amish paradise

ok. deep cleansing breath. *sigh* okay. oh y'all! (i wail and wring my hands here) (fat tear slides down cheek). i pray constantly CONSTANTLY that the fates that decided my life would be star-crossed between I Love Lucy and Seinfeld would reconsider. and let me help choose this time. i mean, okay, i AM aware it could be worse, my life...i could have gotten the whole pearl-wearing Donna Reed thing. or Mrs. Partridge. stuck on that damn bus with those kids all banging tambourines not in time with the music and what was that they thought we wouldn't notice the youngest boy was a DIFFERENT BOY ENTIRELY half way through?? i mean, did Shirley just get sick and tired of the other one and swap him out at 6th grade parent day? oy. but back to me. it's my party and i'll cry if i want to. i can't though...i shrug my shoulders like Uncle Sam-the-garbage and shuffle on to the next nightmare of an Incident which is my life. as best as i can figure, the onslaught began friday when i used the term "slack assed wench" in a meeting with my new boss. i picked this term up from Blue Poppy's blog (which is resting) and the term just tickled me. it just rolls off the tongue. and so it did. (you try saying it and you'll see - slack assed wench. say it). of course another team member had just completed a tirade in which the string of words went something like "taking one up the butt for the team" and so it went. we are a colorful team. and somewhat used to sailor-like language from the customers we strive to satisfy. did i mention this was a meeting with our new boss? did i mention she is wonderful and got us, no not raises, but the pima cotton shirts we demanded with the company logo on it (not realizing that produce and insults would be hurled at us when we stopped for some milk on the way home, so beloved is my company). so anyway, the new boss is a quiet VERY quiet soft-spoken woman. in fact so soft-spoken, her words go IN instead of coming OUT of her mouth. she is still trying to get the lay of the proverbial land at the office, so is nice to everyone. in case. me being ever-helpful, had a private meeting with her and laid out the inner dynamics as best i knew them. it's what i do. so i came home after all that day was finally over, and determined it would be a good weekend...art, watching my hawk try to hatch those eggs, and all the et ceterati that comprises a Good Weekend. so imagine my surprise when the gods of thunder rolled through friday night and Diva took to pacing incessantly across my head, drooling in my ear. finally i got up at 5am. in part because a gypsy woman on the west coast is sending messages to my dog to wake me up to make art, and in part because, i don't know why the other part. must've just been the gypsy. so i make art. then get my hair done. then, 2 days after i've paid off my car, yeah THAT day, it starts going RRRRCRUNK whenever it moves, pretty much. oy. and my mechanic is on vacation, no doubt with the procedes from repairing Youngblood's car. okay, so i'll let it rest and make more art. well, first i'll check my email. but wait, first i'll get my IPod going. oh wait...the screen is blank. blank. no musica. de nada. no va. chest clutch. be calm. check emails. take aspirin. get in car quietly so as not to disturb it and buy new Ipod. WHAT! no computer...screen blank. blank! and Pierre is in Vegas. heyyyy...maybe with my mechanic? naw. i am Amish. no car. no IPod. no computer. cold sweat. panic rising. husband's car. whew. this is going long and i sense i'm losing your attention, so let me just say that 3 hours after you try to make your shiny new green nano ipod work, please just call Apple support. they live in this country. they are nice. they are actually helpful. and they have Magic to make things work that didn't by doing the self-same thing you just did oh say 40 times before. magic i tell you. i asked, but no they don't do cars. so it seemed like a good time for dinner. so guess where i went? husband & i went to a sushi restaurant. oh stop - you are already laughing thinking i ordered something freaky like baby octopus by accident, right. guffaw. no but i will say that in Sushi-speak, "crunchy" does not mean fried, or coated with potato chips, or crouton-like. and those teeny red beads are NOT ice cream sprinkles. 'kay. so today thankfully is the last day of the weekend - the last day where i am footloose and on my own to determine my destiny. so i went grocery shopping. did i mention it was warm here today? 78. and remember, my air conditioning blew up Monster green stuff last week? so okay. let's just say that IF you happen to leave a bag of groceries in the car by accident, pray, people, pray that it does not contain 18 eggs, one of which was cracked and you didn't notice. unless Gus slammed it into the cart and it broke just prior to purchase. moot point. my car smells like a medieval hearse. so bad so bad. what is the lesson in all this...this? i have no freaking idea, but i'm torn between being totally pissed off at the life-choosing fates, and praying to God Yahweh begging Him BEGGING him to reconsider a few things. and reminding him that surely one Job in the Bible was Plenty and Enough. now, i am fully aware that these few days is not even a scratch of a tick on the Bad Things scale if viewed from a Universal viewpoint. it was only meant to inform and amuse. and do not try this at home. i'm a trained professional. so good night y'all....guess where i'm going right now? guess...yup. a date with a sponge and carpet cleaner and a pile of cat yark. sleep well. L.