So it appears that The Swaggering Blogher 2009 has come and gone and and so I can finish up being jealous that I didn’t get to go and start peeing my pants about The Blathering because holy wah it’s less than two months away and people with access to the internet who can twitter the world about my HIDEOUS fake wood floors and my ghetto screen doors are going to come stay at my house and I will admit that I’m a tiny bit nervous about it. I mean, I heard there was THROW UP in the elevators of the Blogher hotel, and I totally don’t have an elevator. I am not really sure where people will throw up, is what I’m saying here. Although Mr. E will probably tell you that a front porch works just fine for things like that, and we totally have a front porch. So check that off the list!
Anyhoo, so, please let me just point out two or maybe three things to you if you are coming to my house:
1. There is nothing, NOT NOTHING IN THE WHOLE WORLD, no nothing nothing nothing, no substance or dollar amount or chemical you could inject into my veins that would ever make me fashion some kind of hat out of a non hat object and put it on my head and have my picture taken. I am just not wired that way. I once fell off a front porch into a large bush, (again with the front porches, I wonder if I have a fetish?!). I love a good dance party. I once made out with one my younger brother’s best friends. So I am not opposed to “having fun” in a wine kind of way, if you get what I’m saying. But I am NOT putting any bags on my head, so don’t even think about it.
2. I have a super long list of things I want to get done so I don’t die of shame when strangers with granite counter tops walk into my humble abode. I even typed it up so I could sort it in order of importance depending on which way the wind was blowing that morning, because I like to keep things fun around here and maybe tomorrow I’ll put something totally different at the top of the list. Also writing things like “chip mortar off of fireplace” is a lot less annoying than actually chipping mortar off the fireplace, so that’s why it’s important to make lots of versions of the same lists. Just to make sure you don’t have to do any real work.
Anyway, I was all excited to show Mr. E that I had figured out to class up the joint for $67 dollars even though it meant that a couple of the items on the list might involve stealing stuff from my neighbors’ back yard, and then I added up everything and those little numbers sure add up fast, don’t they! Regardless I haven’t got $785 dollars, so please be aware that my house might not be as cute as I really really wish it were and that I will be spending the next two months trolling Craigslist and having a nervous breakdown about it. Also, please feel free to send me $785 dollars.
3. The only thing I expect you to do when you are here is to help me get back at my jerk face neighbors, who live directly behind me and who think it’s totally AWESOME to having screaming loud parties in their hot tub every Tuesday at 11 PM. This is totally NOT awesome when you live directly behind them but that’s ok because Mr. E and I have masterminded a plan involving human poo and shooting holes in their hot tub and we just need a little bit of help from you all, so put that on the agenda. Also, if you are really really loud and enjoy yelling in backyards at 11 PM on Tuesdays, you are totally getting the VIP invite to Escape to Sacramento. Come on down!