If I could write about work, I would, because gah. But I won’t write about that. Instead I will say this… if I could, I would adopt Betty White. She could come live here. We have plenty of space.

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It’s almost

MARCH BREAK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Sure we’re not going anywhere and Rob is still working but but but

MARCH BREAK!!!!

Starts on Friday. Like, Friday is the first day off. YOU DON’T KNOW HOW EXCITING THIS IS.

BECAUSE IT TOTALLY IS.

EXCITING.

I LOVE SLEEPING AND THIS PROVIDES THE PERFECT OPPORTUNITY.

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So, I got a comment which I didn’t approve because it was full of spelling and grammar mistakes plus a couple of swears (and I’m not against the swears, oh heck no, but if we’re only just “meeting”? Keep your cusses to yourself, willya? Until you’re at least two comments in) but basically the gist of it was, after having read my post about our water heater, “hey nice lady, why don’t you buy a house instead of renting? You are older than 30, you should own your own home by now!”

To this I say:

1) Most mortgage lenders ’round these parts aren’t very fond of giving a mortgage to a couple who aren’t finished paying off their student loans.

2) We have a huge yard. Front and back. And we don’t have to mow it – the landlord has people who do that.

3) We don’t pay for heating oil.

4) If something breaks, unless we really want to, we don’t have to be the ones who fix it.

5) Why is it your business?

So there is that. Sure, maybe someday in the future we might decide to take on a house but right now? Eh. No thanks.

As an ex-girlfriend, I’m kind of awesome.

Okay, maybe not (who knew exes don’t like when girls drive by their homes and try to peek in their windows? Learned
that lesson) but I will say that unless the guy is a complete and total douche, I do stay on occasional speaking/email terms with them. Not that I have thousands of exes. In fact, I’m pretty sure I only have one “real” ex. I have guys I went on a date or two with, and ran screaming into the hills (sorry, has to be said… men, please do not stare so much at boobs on a first date. And don’t talk about how your date’s hips are “great for kids”. Oh and– don’t say how “if you lose, say, 10 or 15 pounds, I just might keep you”) – I don’t really keep in touch with those guys. But a real relationship? One.

Oh. Before I continue I should say that this post is not borne out of regrets or what might have beens, other than “Wow, I now know what might have been and BOY AM I GLAD I’M MARRIED TO MISTER ROBBIE”.

So I was talking on Facebook with G (the ex, we’ll call him G, most of you know his name already but I don’t want him googling himself) and he told me that he just came across the Technomarine watch I got him for his birthday the year we were together (after not having seen it for years). I was kind of insulted — I mean I dropped serious bank on that damn watch, at a time when I was working a very low-paying job. When we were dating, he was very much into scuba diving and had been wanting one like that forever. I thought I was being a good girlfriend since he’d been hinting at it for months (later on when we actually talked about it, he told me that the reason he dumped me was that I was “too good to him”. What the fuck ever, dude). I asked him if he was going to take it out diving if the snow ever melts around here… not so much.

Since we broke up, it seems as though he’s basically given up any and all hobbies he ever had. He just goes to work, works, comes home, eats, sleeps, wakes up, goes to work. Lather, rinse, repeat. He’ll occasionally go out with friends of ours (the ones who introduced us), and during the summer he comes to PEI (which is funny because during the year we were dating, he didn’t visit here once. I was the one who went there every 2 weeks. Yeah i was a dumbass) for a week or so and plays golf.
When we were dating, he had just bought a house in partnership with his mother and brother. They were going to fix it up, live in it for a year or two, and then sell it.

Nearly 8 years later, he’s 40 years old, and still living with his mom and bro.

I am not saying that he’s not a perfectly wonderful person. We all have our issues and his are much less than some other peoples’. But I am saying that wow, do I love love love my husband. BOY OH BOY do I love my husband.

When faced with a social situation I’m not sure of, I often try to imagine what Martha or Emily would do.

I mentioned a few weeks ago, that a friend of mine has a relative who is dying of mesothelioma. He’s still hanging on, though he is getting sicker every day; and although he’s basically stuck in his bed, he’s still trying to make any friends and family who visit him, laugh.

What I am wondering is this: This is a huge family. They have tons of extended family. One uncle is doing all the household stuff – shoveling, plowing, repainting the livingroom. They have aunts in and out of the house doing cooking, cleaning, laundry. I know that when people are having hard times, people around them are like “If there’s anything I can do…” etc. Well, I honestly don’t think there’s anything concrete I can do. I’m not going to show up with another casserole — they’re set for food. So what do you do? I’m thinking I’ll just be there for my friend and talk with her. Just not sure that’s exactly appropriate, but what else is there to do?

Was in the shower today and ran out of hot water. Not fun.

Especially not fun that at the moment the hot water disappeared, I was covered in soap, so I had to stay in and rinse off instead of just jumping out of there and running screaming into the night.

Our landlord has said that they’re going to be doing some updates to the heating systems etc. in the house this summer. One can only hope that they might add some kind of tankless water heaters to their repertoire. I’m all for more hot water and less expense.

Here we are, having another ice storm. Our electricity is still on, for the time being, and I am taking advantage of it. PBS is showing a James Taylor concert as part of their pledge drive.

I don’t think any of you know how much I love James Taylor. I know that he’s no KISS or Hanson or whatever the kids are listening to these days, but I just love him. Yes, in that way, even though he’s the same age as my parents.

Don’t judge me.

He was cute when he was young — all long flowing hair and angsty soulfulness (he was put in a mental institution by his parents, for depression, when he was 17):

And I think he’s still very cute today, although the hair’s gone, but check out his lankiness and that dang old smile:

… and he probably hasn’t been in an asylum in awhile.

It’s his “One Man Band” concert tour video. Between songs, he’s onstage showing photos and telling stories.

“I started writing this song, thinking it was about the frozen man they’d found buried in the ice… turns out it was yet another damn song about my father. Speaking of my father. Here’s a photo of him, back in 1953. He’s in the Antarctic here.
My parents got married and had five children in Boston. Dad moved us all to North Carolina, then promptly joined the navy and left us all with my mother while he spent three years in the Antarctic.”

“Oh! Here’s a photo of my mother from 1953, when Dad was off with the Navy. Doesn’t she look pensive in this one? She was thinking about murder.”

It’s that dry wit that pulls me in every time.

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There’s a TV show on right now and there is a woman on there who … wow. I mean she looks as though she’s tried to find the fountain of youth by eating Botox or something.

Clue: As an actor, you should actually be able to have facial expressions, aside from “perpetually surprised” (brow lift, anyone?).

I can’t see myself ever having plastic surgery (unless of course it was so I could finally have the gills I’ve always wanted) but if I did, I would try my best to NOT hire a surgeon who would make me look like this lady.

I had a really hard time getting to sleep last night, and this morning, once again, I am all nervous and jumpy, for no reason that I can tell. It’s as though my inner alarm system monitoring is working overtime.
I do know that I have no breaks whatsoever today (including lunch hour) so by the end of it I’m going to be mentally exhausted… hopefully that’s what’s up. I’m occasionally prescient, but I think predicting a bad day is just a way to bring it on oneself so I will stop doing that! Today will be great! Long live today!