My parents finally come home tomorrow, or at least I think tomorrow, considering I haven't talked to them since Saturday and their lasseiz-faire attitude towards letting us know just where in the continental US they are right now. It just better not be today because oh lordy, there is cleaning to be done. I did the kitchen pretty spectacularly yesterday, as I was cooking dinner at that (move over Susie Homemaker), and of course not ten minutes after I'm done, my sister comes downstairs to eat and leaves cheese all over my sparkling countertops. I exaggerate greatly, it was more like four shards of shredded cheese but come on. Please take care to wipe off the countertops as to not enrage me greatly. I can't wait for mom to get home so things can get back to normal with her as the enrager, while I am the enragee.
Another great thing about mom and dad coming home? Will can stop begging to stay over at my house. I don't get the attraction anyways, as he has his own condo, plus why would you want to stay the night with someone who makes it pretty obvious she does not want you there. Oh, that's right - it's because I'm a pushover, I almost forgot.
So Green bay is 3-0 and the Bears are 1-2. Great Rex Grossman, great. I think if Lovie hadn't have finally announced he's gonna pull Grossman for Griese next week, the whole city of Chicago would have boycotted. Not really, but we all would have definitley wondered what the fuck else Rex could possibly do as the "last straw". Throw 84 interceptions? Sounds pretty final to me.
If you've never read any Margaret Atwood, you must. Right now. Ms. Mac and I, because we are this awesome, have pretty much started our own Transcontinental Book Club (fuck you Oprah. Just kidding, I love you!) and it's been revolving around Atwood for the past couple weeks. I've only read two of them, The Handmaid's Tale and The Blind Assasin, but loved both of them. After reading The Handmaid's Tale first, I thought maybe all her books would be the same type, but they definitely are not, consisdering again I've only read two. So if you are in a funk of reading shitty books, check out some Maraget Atwood and love Ms. Mac and I later.
Mark Ronson, who's album I raved about in my last post, has done a version of Bob Dylan's song Most Likely You Go Your Way and I'll Go Mine. And it is fantastic. Imagine that, my singer du jour of yesteryear and my singer du jour of the present year, mashing it up together - loves it. And now I can't find it on youTube, but believe me, it's out there. BELIEVE ME.
If Keri doesn't have a tuna casserole waiting for me when I get home, somebody is going back in their cage.