Sheet Tug of War

Hubby is so getting meatloaf for supper tonight. I love the man dearly, I really do. I am beginning to think its the cross I must bear in this life. I spent the night fighting him for a cover, I would have been happy with one sheet. But no, I must lie next to the window with a soft chilling you to the bone type draft gently wafting over me so the freezing is slow. He claims its the dogs. Yeah, okay. Two Chihuahua's who weigh maybe combined a total of 14lbs, are holding down the covers and pinning them there. I finally manage to get the duvet over my shoulders and drift into a wonderful warm sleep when his alarm goes of for the first time. It must go off at least four times before he gets up. This morning I got up on the third alarm and it startled Hubby causing him to stab me with his Ninja Toe Weapons. At this point I threw off the edge of the duvet and got up. I know when a battle is lost. But the war is yet to be won.

He had the nerve to be some what chipper this morning. That really ticked me off. He is never chipper. Ask Artist. She has seen him when one of his black moods hit. I love it when that happens. I will find any excuse to invade his cave with Artist and blather on about something I want to change, just to watch his expressions. Its hilarious. He will roll his eyes or clamp his jaw. Hubby is always pleasant when Artist is around. He would never be rude. And once in a while it will actually put him in a better mood. So its not just to torture him, although that is right up there at number one.

It goes both ways. Hubby has his ways of revenge. Like coming into the kitchen and suggesting I do something a certain way in cooking. He used to do this constantly until one day he was working on a computer trying to fix it. I went downstairs and sat on a step and asked what he was doing. He explained something was wrong internally. So I started to suggest the dumbest things I could think of to fix the computer. Finally he got a little miffed with me. Then I pointed it out that I knew as much about computers as he knew of cooking. It stopped his Mr. Fix It when it came to cooking. Now he does it just to get kicked out of the kitchen if I get too chatty.

Hubby has this panther lamp. This thing is hideous. I have been demising it death especially if Hubby ticks me off. This thing would be more happy with velvet paintings and a lava lamp. If your into that kind of thing make me an offer. Its entirely black so the dust on it has given it a lovely accenting in the ridges. Yes I hate that thing, but Hubby loves it. So its in the dungeon, Hubby's domain. I don't take Artist there, I couldn't live with the guilt of terrorizing her with the Hell in my basement.

Hubby wants a shed for his woodworking. I think that's a good idea. It will save his life a lot of the time. My condition was that all the stuff in the house has to be done first and that the shed be 100% complete. It is in my Hubby's DNA to leave the last remaining six inches done. But that is for another rant another day. I did not think my request was unreasonable. We came to an agreement that we would prep the yard for it this year and attack our bills with zest to payout a loan freeing up money. (This is the plan. We will talk in a year.)

Now Hubby is miffed because I am refusing to get a job. My reasons are thus; I can't guarantee that I can work full hours because of my health. He will not help me with the house cleaning as the past has proven. I really do not want to go back to the other diet we were on and if I'm working, we are back on crap. And the list continues. If I commiserate with Artist long enough, we could come up a whole slew more.

oh well, I'll give him a back rub and stuff an organic meatloaf down his throat. That will make everything much better. Well I'll feel better anyway.

A New Twist in Life

I was asked by a person I know via the internet, who saw the "Check It Out" and did, why was I promoting someone's book. I explained that it my book I was promoting. My mother was asked by a very sweet lady if it was spiritual. I think to my mother's disappointment it's not. But I did realize by the title it could be percieved as such.

I started that story twenty years ago shortly after my daughter was born. She just turned twenty and my story will soon be published. Life's little ironies at work. It was a ten page outline that grew larger everytime I looked at it. If I compiled all the time I spent on it, it would equal out to two years. I would pick it up for a month or so, then put it down for a few years. I still wrote but it was short stories for my enjoyment. I had let people read them over the years. Rhode Island among the first. But there was never the time to devote like I wanted to.

I decided to take a chance and put my writing out there. See where this journey leads me. I have no expectations of this ride. I don't know what to expect. Its kind of like stepping into a room and the light only shines where you stand. Everything is pitch black around you and you only know the spot you stand in. Its going to be interesting to say the least. At the most it will provide some very entertaining discussions for the family.

Update!!!

We Did It!!!! Our play brought in the highest number of ticket sales for a non-musical. No Sex Please We're British was a smashing success in a bible belt. Go Figure. I do admit the ass backwards write up and the name might have something to do with the high sales. We had last minute changes, one of our actresses ended up in the hospital and another went on in her stead. And the audience kept laughing. I am so glad it's over with. All that's left is the post-mortem and I can totally relax. And I found something way better than that Robaxa stuff. Orgainc Wine!

Opening Night.

Its almost over. Tonight is the opening night to our play. It has been riddled with problems from the get go. We lost two actresses for the same part. Luckily my daughter stepped up to the plate and so did her friend. The friend has three lines. Two of them are monosyllabic. Do you think she could get that last lines of seven words? Last dress rehearsal I'm on my knees begging her to face the audience and say her line with precision and clarity. The only way to survive this entire run is drunk out of my mind.

We are not only pushing the boundaries of this town's puritanical sense of morality but we need at least another two weeks before this play is ready. Our actors are very skilled but because of the antics in the play elements are continually being added. We were changing things at the last dress rehearsal because of set changes we made last minute. I keep reminding myself of a pin the past president wore. "It's only community theatre until it offends someone. Then it becomes art."

The nice thing is the local newspaper did a huge write up on our production. Even included quotes from myself and the other director. The sad thing is, he got the plot completely ass backwards. The show in the paper sounds a lot more like a soft porn than our risque` little venue. Maybe that explains the high numbers for opening night.

Oh well, I hear a bottle of wine calling and its only 10:30 am.

Bliss

My house is in a pickle, The phone rung none stop and I have had a phone call from my aunt. Everything I set out to do today got pushed aside so I gave up. I have had 10....count em...10 minutes to myself today where I completely alone without anybody on the phone or over. When I finally breathed a sigh of relief that I had time to myself, Hubby came home.

I give up. Since the moment I got up its been a total wash of a day. It's been a very wierd day. So I have decided to lock myself in the bathroom with a nice hot bubble bath and candles. I'll relax to Micheal Bubble` and just relax.

That will be until Hubby comes down over a bill he's angry about.

So much for bliss.