Time For A New City

I moved to this town a year and a half ago. Through the grace of God, I have avoided my ex-boyfriend (whom I blame for everything that has gone wrong in my life in the last 7 years, whether warranted or not. Actually, it's ALL warranted.)

In the last two weeks, I have seen him at my grocery store more times than truly necessary. He hasn't spotted me yet - maybe because I HAUL ASS in the other direction when I see him - but it's just a matter of time.

I gotta get out of here.

Theories

I have a theory on people who wear sunglasses indoors: someone once told them their shades looked good...so now they wear them EVERYWHERE.

Same goes for chicks who wear magenta lipstick.

A Quick Favor

So guys...if you have really dark hair and eyebrows yet your beard naturally grows in a lighter shade of brown, PLEASE SHAVE IT. It's like a carpet-matching-the-drapes kinda thing. And it freaks me out. Thanks.

Send Me An Angel. One With A Vaccuum.

I woke this morning at 3:30am because feathers were flying into my nose with every breath I took. So in my sleepy daze I blew them out and tried to fall back asleep. But then I realized I had to pee so I got up, went into the bathroom, turned on the light...

and saw an angel.

I was slowly coming out of my slumber haze when I realized I was looking in the mirror. The angel was me. I was covered from the top of my head to the bottom of my shorts in white fuzzy feathers. I couldn't figure out if I was dreaming or awake until I realized I REALLY had to pee - so I must be awake? As I sat, I started thinking, trying to figure out what in the world was going on. When I finished, I walked into my room, turned on the light...and right at that moment I knew exactly what happened.

The f*cking dog chewed a hole in my down comforter.

My ceiling fan was on high, blowing the feathers throughout the air. My floor fan was oscillating across the width of my bed, spreading the feathers across the floor. My poor old kitty Toph was lying next to my pillow, covered in fuzz, with a look on her face that said, "This is your fault. You're the dumbass who wanted a dog." And on the bed, right smack in the middle of a pile of feathers, was Ted. Asleep like a baby Jesus in a feather-lined manger.

Sonofabitch.

I wish I had photos of the fiasco but alas I do not. I still wasn't fully awake and the commotion had awoken Mouth, who had to wake for school in three hours. I was too busy trying to get him back to bed, get the feathers out of my hair, and get the sheet and blanket balled into a pile to trap the feathers, to grab my phone and start shooting.

Everything is still in a balled-up mess in my hallway. I can't deal with it. My room is covered in feathers, and my dog is trottin' around like nothing happened. He's sooooo lucky he's stinking adorable. Little shithead.

Anyone want to come over and clean? I have no money but I make a mean margarita!