After I wrote in my last post that I had gone out the night before in a nightgown with a chocolate ice cream stain on it, I proceeded to spill more chocolate ice cream down the front of my pink sweater that night. So it's no wonder that at our annual summer cookout on Saturday night, as Neil passed out his delicious blondie (and by delicious blondie I don't mean Debbie Harry) desserts, he cautioned me to be careful not to spill salsa on my white pants. And he didn't even know that I had gone to Target that day with a huge dirt stain across my shirt.
Other than apparently eating like a slob the entire time, I had a great weekend. During my pre-ice-cream-stained Thursday night, I saw the very good question asker at a bridal shower and seriously considered going home and deleting the post I had written about her. I could barely respond to her because all I was thinking about was how I had written about her on my blog. And how she reads blogs. And has now read Kacy's & Christian's. And how she is just one step away from finding me out. And now I have pictures of myself on my blog...
Friday, I saw A Midsummer Night's Dream at an outdoor theater where I was even entertained with a heated argument on the row in front of me during intermission. And our cookout on Saturday was a success and everyone who attended seemed to have a good time, even if Pickles and I never did get around to leg wrestling. (Pickles, you are still on anytime--bring your own pants.) However, while everyone was eating and mingling in the moonlight, they were oblivious to some funny things that had happened/were happening behind the scenes.
No one knew that when our first guest arrived 20 minutes early, Schatze was not all the way dressed and had to do some military style crawling under the windows...or that when I went upstairs to find a needle so Pickles could show us a trick, Schatze, Karen and I had a good laugh over our guest who was in the living room all alone and singing "Somewhere Only We Know" by Keane really loudly to no one but himself. As we came down the stairs after eavesdropping on the singer, Jonas was at the bottom of the stairs saying, "Where's Marcy and Tiffany?" (And by Tiffany, we assume he meant Schatze)...he then told us that they were taking off and had "lost [the Living Room singer] to the music an hour ago." After which the Living Room singer was just standing there with his hand in the air. What was he doing? Waving? No one really knows...but Schatze gave him a high 5 just in case that's what he was looking for.
Yesterday was not a bad day either...especially after a girl in our ward confessed in her testimony to swearing. "But it's not like I'm mad or anything...it's more for comic relief." After which she told us she usually can get out of anything..."like when I get pulled over. I don't pay for this blonde hair for nothing." And after church, we came home and were able to break our fast (or devour like wild animals) with a LOT of cookout leftovers and shoot the breeze on the deck for a couple of hours, and that, my friends, is a mad crunk weekend.
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11 comments:
Sounds too crunky to be true. Wish I could have been at your party--if only to taste the "blondies." No wonder Neil prefers Debbie Harry.
I made it into Marcy's blog!!! I have now been mentioned once in each of the Big Four blogs. Not to brag or anything.
I was at said party (obviously) and missed out on all the funny stuff, it sounds like. How did that happen? I still had a great time, though. Kudos to you, Schatze, and Wayne for a party well thrown!
That Keane song is a good. I can see why your friend would sing it. I believe I'll purchase it on iTunes now.
Carly: How I wish you were here. We're just two lost souls swimming in a fishbowl year after year.
Neil: I have Keane so if you haven't already purchased that song, save your 99 cents.
Raine: That would be my luck (knock on wood). Maybe I should also stop bringing up the v. good question asker over and over and relinking to that post. That is probably my best bet.
The v. good question asker reads my blog? I think that makes six readers. So I'm thinking I'll post a link to your v. good question asker post on my blog to just get all of the stressful anticipation over for you.
Hm. I know the VGQA (though I missed the meeting featuring the Very Good Question). I also know who you are (though you don't know me, I don't think). Should I put you out of your misery? (I won't if you'd prefer I didn't; really, I'm not a sadist, though this post might imply such).
Anonymous! Who are you? Identify yourself please! Put me out of my misery. Have you referred the VGQA to my post or do I still have time to erase it?
Anonymous: And by "put me out of my misery" I mean "tell me who you are" and not "please set up a confrontation between Marcy & VGQA."
I'm a friend of VGQA, and I'm pretty sure my name would mean nothing to you - and I actually don't know yours; just know you by sight (yes, the infamous posted pictures), but I'll email you if you like. Anyway, the question was intended rather light-heartededly; I knew who VGQA was almost as soon as I read the initial post (mainly because - and I say this with a great deal of affection for her - you characterized her perfectly). I've said nothing to her about the post or the blog, and am not about to either, so I'm sorry if I cast the fear of God into you. You weren't being nasty, just a little gossipy, and it's hardly the sort of thing trouble should be started over. *good vibes*
Dear Anonymous Fellow Ward Member and Friend of VGQA: Thanks for your discretion and for all the excitement on my blog as well.
I assure you no harm was intended, especially since I don't really even know VGQA, only met her last week...I'm just always on the lookout for some good material. I am a little curious who you are so the next time you see me at church, the signal will be: 2 winks followed by 2 thumbs up. When I see you do this, I will snap once.
Well, amusingly, I'm not really a ward member. More like a sporadic-church-attender-who-lives-outside-the-boundaries-but-sometimes-goes-anyway. Next time I find myself in the building, though, onward with the furtive hand gestures.
cool.
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