If there is one universal truth about the Sisters besides the obvious ones about reading, writing and baked goods, it is that we are all clumsy.
Ava and I went to the FedEx office today. We needed some big boxes to ship stuff home from our work trip in Albuquerque. I hopped out of the car to grab them and left the other gals in the running car. I very calmly strode across the exceedingly flat, unblemished sidewalk and fell into an invisible hole.
Do you know that surreal feeling you have when you’re falling, like everything goes into slow motion and you have enough time to talk to yourself? Maybe not. Maybe that just happens to me. I don’t know. If you’re perfectly normal and have never experienced this phenomenon this is how it generally goes.
“Oh, look, I’m faaaaaaalling,” myself helpfully comments like a sadistic sports commentator. “I’ll never catch myself in time.”
BAM! You kiss the pavement. “See, I told you,” myself notes, all bitchy and smug.
Now, this next part is getting regrettably slower as I grow older, but it’s still vitally important. I must now launch myself back up into a standing position and look around to make sure no one else saw. You know how cats always look like they meant to do that when they hurt themselves? That’s me.
No matter what kind of wound I have, there could be spleen jutting from my side and my shin could be hemorrhaging, but I will insist to all witnesses that I am perfectly fine and that they should STOP LOOKING AT ME.
Another absolutely vital part of the recovery process, if there was indeed witnesses, is to inspect the ground with the vigor of Sherlock Holmes, desperately searching for something to blame.
Well, today I went down to a knee, hard. My ankle was also quite screamy, but the knee took the brunt of the assault. To make my humiliation complete, there were two people, mere paces away, that saw me go down. The only thing to blame my gracelessness on was a rather smallish and unassuming maple leaf.
I returned to the car with the boxes and no dignity.
“Yeah, too bad for that van right there,” I told Ava and gestured to a white panel van blocking the car’s view of my
communion with the invisible hole, “otherwise, you could have seen me fall down.”
Do you think my Sister or my other “friends” expressed concern? Sort of, I guess, through their guffaws and snickers.
Then we went to lunch in a little cafe by the office we’re using. There was a fire truck in the parking lot but Ava wouldn’t let me stop and ask them for a band-aid. There was also a veterinarian next to the cafe, but they wouldn’t let me go in there either.
Afterwards, we went to Target and I bought enormous, knee sized band aids, hydrogen peroxide, and a wee bottle of “Pain Relieving First Aid Antiseptic Spray”.
Do you remember the last time you fixed up one of your kid’s boo-boos? Remember how you told them the peroxide didn’t sting? You, dear Internet, were a big, fat liar. That shit is awful.
Also, recall how the antiseptic was advertised as “Pain Relieving”? Maybe it is after it sears the remaining skin from your wound like a nuclear blast. After that, dipping your wound in hot lava would feel less painful.
Every single one of my friends has a story that ends with me wounding myself. It’s not easy being the comic relief.
How steady are you on your feet? No, not after a few drinks but in general. Does there need to be a boulder for you to fall over or can it be a speck of dust like the Sisters? Do you let people help you up and then plan to sue or are you like Amylynn, popping up all mortified with a rib sticking out claiming you are just fine?
This has been a very strange week for news. Well, strange in general, actually. Short weeks always do that. Tuesday comes along and you’re all confused about what day it is, and then there’s twice the email at work, and you have all that Monday stuff to catch up on besides the Tuesday stuff and, before you know it, Thursday has arrived and it feels like it should be Friday cause you already jammed nine days into this “short” week. We’re exhausted and it’s not five o’clock yet and, honestly, it feels like it never will be and did you check the batteries in the clock lately because that can’t be right. Short weeks create run on sentances. Stop the madness! We’re going to go calm down while you check out our thoughts below.
1. Astrology. We can’t tell you how pleased we are that the astrologers have already determined who will win the presidential election. Instead of all that polling bullshit, they went to the stars and planets and whatever else and have come to the consensus that Obama will win reelection. Whatever you think of that particular outcome, you have to be pleased that the worry is over. Someone call the National Committees and let them know. Since it’s a foregone conclusion, there is simply no need to continue with the propaganda. And now we’ll all have that day freed up in November . We think we should all meet for a drink. We can toast the astrologers.
2. Florida. The Sisters are really, really concerned about Florida. If the apocalypse happens we are 100% certain that it will start in Florida and NO ONE WILL EVEN KNOW! Want proof of this hypothesis? Let’s take that freaky naked guy who ate that other guy’s face off, growled at a police officer and was shot, twice, before he died. That alone is pretty damn weird. Today his girlfriend came out to say that he must have either been drugged without knowing it or, and this is one hellacious OR, he was placed under a voodoo curse. Holy crap! She is also willing to admit, “Something happened out of the ordinary that day.” Well, that’s stating it mildly, isn’t it. This woman professes to not have believed in voodoo before but now she totally does. If things continue to deteriorate in this fashion, we’re going to strongly recommend that Disneyworld be moved. We’ll be right down with some boxes.
3. Alien raccoons. Believe it or not this did not happen in Florida. It was Japan. Alien raccoons. We don’t think they burst out from anyone’s chest, or even a garbage can. For those of you who don’t know, you can trap raccoons, alien or otherwise, with ham and cabbage. We had no idea. Anyway, the headline was a bit deceiving. They’re not aliens like from other planets, just boring ole “alien” like not usually there. OR it’s all a consipiracy and there totally were alien alien raccoons and they don’t want us to know about it. Think about it. It could be true. Perhaps they’re from Florida. We’re just saying…keep a vigilant eye out.
4. Pampered cows.It has come to our attention that we want to be reincarnated as cows. Yes, cows. There are a couple of reasons, not the least of which is their extraordinarily long eye lashes, but primarily its because the latest article we read about dairy farming has alerted us to the fact that these days cows are treated a hell of a lot better than the Bank of No Forks employees. First of all, the
farmers would most certainly buy the cows forks if they had thumbs. Already, they’re playing Chopin in the barns, giving them waterbeds to lie down on, and having chiropractors come in to give them adjustments. We’re seriously considering forming a union and demanding working conditions at least as good as cow’s have it. Although, frankly, we’re not too excited about having anything
squeezed for milk.
5. Thor and the Huntsman. We think it’s high time a pretty man was mentioned in this space again. It’s been a while. Fortunately, there’s Chris Hemsworth. Oh Chris. Chris. Chris. Chris. If we had any poetic talent, we’d write an ode. First he mesmerized us as Thor, then with the rest of those pretty boys in the Avengers and, now, he’s a scruffy huntsman. Chris is the man for every woman. If you like them pretty and blonde and huge you have Thor. If you like them scruffy, a little dirty, and wearing leathers you have your huntsman. Either way, you’re getting the muscles and deep, blue eyes. Chris – if you’re reading this we beg you, stay the hell out of Florida.
This may be the last Five Favorite Things because surely we’ll all be dead by next Friday, drowned in our own prolific snot output. Perhaps this is how the zombie apocalypse will finally come. Maybe you should divert some of that retirement money we urged you to spend on Kleenex on machetes and shotguns instead. Don’t say you haven’t been warned. Crazier things have happened. We’ll try to distract you from impending doom with these five amusing things.
- Autopilot cars. Google, that bastion of knowledge and information, has transformed Prii (that’s the plural of Prius. Really. Google it. See – Google knows everything) into robot cars. They’ve been test piloting them around public streets and now they’re taking them to Vegas to show how effective they are against driving where there are a lot of distractions. Of course, there are those over-thinkers who are worried that self-driving cars are a sign of Big Brother’s influence, but we say pish. Those people clearly have not thought of the fabulous possibilities. Amylynn could sleep for ten more minutes in the car each morning. Ava’s family could stop worrying that she’s a menace to society when she’s driving her own car and Kelli could
Facebook to her heart’s content. Genius. We want one.
- Stinky dinosaurs. A study was published this week in Current Biology that postulates that the dinosaurs kept Earth 18 degrees hotter than it is now. Wanna know how? By farting. Yes, you read that correctly. Apparently the sauropods were especially gassy with all the plants they ate. We’ve often considered that Earth would have been really lovely back then with all the wild, unbroken wilderness. Now we’re reconsidering. Quite frankly, instead of paradise the whole place sounds like it smelled like a frat house. **shudder**
- Town of the Future. They’re building it and we will come. We don’t know who “they” are but we need to make friends right quick. This town they’re building will be a 1 billion dollar scientific ghost town out in New Mexico somewhere. They plan to use it for research on everything from intelligent traffic systems (there isn’t one) to self-flushing toilets (??). Here’s the big selling point for the Sisters: no one will live there. It’s a giant, perfect fifteen square mile town void of morons. Perfect for the blogger who hates everyone else. Doesn’t it sound like heaven? No one to pester you and you don’t even have to flush your own toilet. Bliss.
- Haboobs. Our town had a haboob this weekend. That means we had a massive dust storm. It doesn’t mean anything about having boobs, which we do, two each as prescribed by current social convention. There isn’t anything especially funny about dust storms but we defy you not to giggle while watching the local newscasters say “haboob” over and over again, all agitated and self-important like only local newscasters can be. Habooooooob. We don’t care what most of the world thinks, those Middle Easterners must have a sense of humor to come up with that word. Haboooooob. **giggle**
- Western Conference Finals. Amylynn has been trying to figure out a way to mention hockey on this blog for weeks and now’s her chance. The Coyotes have moved to the Western Conference finals for the Stanley Cup and it’s a really big deal because never in the entire history of the organization have they made it this far. Also, even better, the NHL thinks they finally have a buyer that will take over the team who will leave them in Phoenix, shushing all the horrific rumors of the team leaving. Amylynn is beside herself with glee over the whole thing. Her family just wants it to be over. Ava smiles at her like you would a slightly crazy person who might hurt you with their enthusiasm. Kelli ignores her altogether. Amylynn doesn’t care. But we suggest you save yourself and not ask her opinion on save percentages and brilliant goal tending or you’ll hear an endless ode to goalie Mike Smith. And for heaven’s sake don’t mention Shane Doan or she gets all swoony and, really, that’s sorta icky. Go Yotes!
I’m sure I know the answer to this question, but I’m gonna put it out there anyway.
I’ve mentioned before how seasonal allergies are really doing a number on me this year. I have no idea why this year is so much more than others, but I’m seriously considering dumping all my 401K stock in Kleenex.
Ava is sneezing like a maniac and Kelli sounds equally nasally and congested. It’s miserable.
So the question of the ages is this: Is your snot supposed to be neon green?
Yeah, I thought not.
Ava suggested that it was proof of my super powers but I’m not sure exactly how nuclear waste-like mucus is associated with my ability to fall asleep anywhere or to find the sarcastic angle in any conversation.
I know this blog will induce my mother to give me a long, protracted lecture about taking all my antibiotics. HA! The joke’s on her because I’m not on any antibiotics, and I don’t have any plans to get on them anytime soon.
My Honey finds this latest disclosure highly irritating and it earned me a magnificent eye roll. I don’t know why? He knows damn good and well that I don’t go to the doctor until I have pneumonia. This is my tried and true medical plan. I figure you should wait until you have a bunch of symptoms instead of just one or two. That way you can maximize your co-pay dollars. I’m all about saving money – just ask My Honey.
Are you one of those people who makes an appointment at the first sign of a sniffle? Or are you one of us who waits for Typhoid to set in before you trudge to the primary care doctor? Do you finish all your prescriptions or just take the first four until you feel better like me?
I heartily apologize for not posting on Sunday night. I was sick as a dog on Sunday. The only time I moved from the
couch was when I was racing to the bathroom. Is that an overshare?
Jojo (the cuddliest kitten EVER) and I spent the entire day on the couch, motionless, while Sassy and the Bandit destroyed the house. My Honey was out helping a friend and every once in a while I’d open my eyes and give them a weak admonishment to pick up their toys and warn them that their father would be home soon and would most likely kill them.
They ignored me entirely, much to their dismay when their father did indeed come home and lower the boom.
I lay there, considering turning on my computer and at least posting a one line apology but I couldn’t muster the energy. Pushing down the keys on my keyboard was more than my weak body could take. That flu was awful. I heartily recommend you don’t get it.
Right now, I’m watching my favorite hockey team play really well in game 5 of Round 2 of the Stanley Cup Playoffs. They’re going to the Western Conference Final – something they’ve never done before. The best news of all is that it looks like my Phoenix Coyotes finally have a buyer and they’ll be staying in Glendale. That means that one of these days, I may actually get up to Glendale to see a game. It’s just that Glendale is sooooo freaking far.
The Avengers was AWESOME! It was hinted at in comments last week that my review would be biased. **hurrumph** It’s a great movie – especially if you’re a fan of superhero/action movies. We went on Friday, opening night, with everyone else on the planet. I know some people hate that, but I love a crowded theater much the same way I love shopping the Friday after Thanksgiving. A crowd just amps up the excitement.
Honestly, the movie is hysterical – so funny that the audience was often laughing over more funny lines so I’ll have to see it again. I think that’s an evil plot by the film makers, don’t you think? Robert Downey, Jr. is FUNNY as you’d expect him to be and Mark Ruffalo is a fabulous, dry wit as Bruce Banner/Hulk. Even Gwennyth Paltrow didn’t make me want to kill her – which is unusual. I do wish there had been more of Black Widow and Hawkeye – but this was really the other guys’ movie.
Do go see it, though, it’s good fun – if you’re into fun. Otherwise, go see something by Nicholas Sparks if you want to kill yourself by the end of a movie. I’m just saying.
Did you see The Avengers? Did you love it? Hate it? Who’s your favorite? You know you have one. Are you a full action Thor type or more of a cerebral IronMan person? A sneaky NightHawk type or full tilt Hulk fan?
I have found the secret to staying out of prison. Obey the law, you say? That sounds really elementary and, of course, I’d agree with you – mostly. Sometimes, though, days just progress so awfully that not slapping the crap out of someone seems too much to ask.
Today was just one of those days.
It started out bad with Sassy and The Bandit. The fact that they were still alive to go to school was testimony that I didn’t want to go to jail.
Then Bank of No Forks tortured me for nine solid hours. Nine excruciating hours of grief and pain. Of customers
alternately screaming or crying at me. There is only so many times you can say, “Ma’am, you’re going to have to stop screaming at me if you expect me to be able to help you” before you lose your freaking patience.
I’ve never been long on patience under the best of circumstances.
The only thing that kept me from going completely postal today was Jojo. The Kitty Extraordinaire has been coming to work with me every single day. Granted, he mostly sleeps all day – he is a cat after all, just a very, very wee one – still he is in my office. Looking cute. Except when he’s looking adorable, which is very, very good when the world is out to torment me.
He’s so calming we’ve considered calling the customers we can’t help to come down to the office and handing them the kitty before we share the bad news.
“How you doing today, Mrs. Smith? Well, you’re not really as good as you think. Here hold this tiny kitty and we’ll discuss it.”
It’s really hard to slash someone with your homemade shiv when you’re holding a teeny tiny purring machine.
As if being forced to go to the Bank of No Forks wasn’t enough, I had an appointment with the lady doctor today. I really like my doc but who wants to deal with that when you’re already in a mood? I can easily go years on end without having my feet up in stirrups. Regardless, I went. I did not bite her when she suggested that a little more exercise would be a good idea. Do you want to know why? Because of the itty bitty kitty.
When the lady at Wendy’s gave me attitude and refused to give me regular cheese instead of pepper jack cheese on the avocado chicken sandwich I ordered, I did not scream at her and lunge through the drive-through window. I thought of wee Jojo.
And when the windshield repair people gave me a window (hahaha – I didn’t mean the pun, but there it is! Window!) of 11 – 5 for my replacement, I considered various swear words to properly express my opinion but a little tiger was tickling my feet under my desk and I swallowed my vitriol.
We don’t know how thrilled the captains of industry who run BofNF would be knowing about Jojo, but if they’re smart they’ll find fluffy little beasties for every single one of our offices to keep their people mellow.
What’s your secret that keeps you from killing your fellow employees? How about the idiot at the fast food place who can’t get your order right? Is the threat of hard jail time a deterrent or do you ponder how lovely solitary confinement sounds? What animal do you fancy under your desk? We suggest fuzzy but a small dragon might also come in handy. What would you do with a dragon? Hmmmmmm?
May is our third anniversary. We’ve published 1,273 posts, not counting this one.
Ava and I are often certain the only people we write this for is ourselves, various family members and one or two fans we’ve picked up along the way.
We treasure you fans like nobody’s business.
We have no intention of closing down, but we’ve spent the last several months intensively learning everything we can about blogging and growing an audience. This weekend we met Kristen Lamb and, honest to God, angels wept. We think she might have all the answers.
Prepare yourselves, faithful readers, for some changes. First thing up, is a complete retooling of this site. When we designed it three years ago, we had no idea what we were doing. With our new education, we have lots of ideas. We think you’ll like the new look. We’ll keep you posted.
Also, the content will be undergoing some changes. Never fear, it’s still us and we seriously doubt the irreverence will be minimized in any way. There’ll still be the absurd stories and shenanigans and such you tune in for, just MORE interactive opportunities. Hang in there with us while we experiment. We’re certain you’ll be happy you did.
We’re really, really excited.
What big changes have you made lately? Did they work out? Was it worse? Did the heavens open up and send you buckets of happiness? Or did we get that much closer to the zombie apocalypse? If you had a genie bottle and could make any wish in the world, what would it be?