Wednesday, June 22, 2005


While driving through the I-93 South tunnel on the way to work yesterday, I saw a couple of police cars with the slow flashing lights that usually mean they are escorting someone. From what I could see, it was a huge semi. Geez, I wondered, I wonder what that semi is carrying? Must be some sort of hazardous material.... As I approached, I could see that the cargo space was just loaded with piles and piles of something. What could it be? I craned my neck to see as I approached, hoping for a glimpse of the scary hazardous material that demanded not one, but two police escorts. As I finally zipped past, I saw the deadly cargo....onions. Bag after red net bag of giant head-sized onions. I never knew that onions were such an onery vegetable that a police escort (or two) is required to ensure their safety. Live and learn.

The boxes are slowly, sloooooowly dissipating. Slowly. The boxes. There are still so many of them. In the words of one of our gazillion-dollar movers: "You guys have a lot of stuff!". Yes, we suffer from the deadly yuppie disease of Stuff Collection. It is true. If I had my druthers (what exactly is a druther?), I would own every vase Crate and Barrel has ever offered. Yes, I know that they are re-released every year in "new colors" when it's just the same old vase. I don't care. I want all the colors. I want melon, salmon, orange, and pink. I want aqua as well as turquoise and sky and teal.

Our new dining room table from Jordan's arrived yesterday morning. This is the dining room table we have had unending dreams and fantasies about since we first glimpsed it, but put off buying until we "owned a house". Well, we went out on the evening of the closing with a "today is The Day!" kind of attitude and bought it. It is a thing of beauty. Unfortunately, the thing I didn't take into consideration is that Jordan's is, well, rather large. Our dining room, not so much. So the table that looked regular sized in the showroom looks, well, friggin' ENORMOUS in our dining room. If we keep the built-in leaf tucked away and seat it as a rectangular-shaped 6-seater it works, but if we make it a giant sqare 8-seater (which is why we fell in love with the thing in the first place), it looks silly. I nearly wept. Maybe it will be better when the boxes dissipate further. But I fear that our dining room will look disappointingly like a Van Gogh.

When the alarm bleated us awake this morning, I promptly rolled over and hit the "snooze" button. Sean, on the other hand, began earnestly fondling our lamp, as if it and not the clock radio were the offending item; and furthermore as if fondling an offending item rather than slapping it were the "correct" response. This caused me to cackle like a crone and declare him a "Lamp Fondler". He is, you know. He fondles lamps.

Since we don't have nearly enough to do at home this weekend, we thought it would be a good idea to leave town. So we're leaving town. Actually, it's a case of Super Lousy Timing, but my family reunion is this weekend, and I desperately wanted to go; house or no house. It's one of the few times that I actually get to see members of my family who have chosen in-laws as their holiday stops (bastards!). Plus, my cousin who lives on a sailboat in the Caribbean will actually be there. And let it be said that if I lived on a sailboat in the Caribbean, I would be in rural Maryland about as often as she is, which is to say pretty freaking rarely. So, in essence, we will spend the weekend feasting on such southern delicacies as Watergate Salad and Kentucky Fried Chicken. And I will come back with an accent. This is nearly unavoidable.

Let it be noted that I probably misspelled "onery" when referring to the mighty onion as an "onery" vegetable. However, spellcheck's best offered solution was to replace "onery" with "Henry". Fuck you, spellcheck.

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