PLLBBBBT on March

Last night I watched a documentary that I had ordered from Netflix (it was called Murder on a Sunday Morning, as recommended by my friend Miss Leslie, and it was very good). So this morning I started hunting around for the envelope so that I could return it. On the rare occasion that something *I* ordered from Netflix arrives, I'm expected to watch it and return it within .008 seconds so that the next piece of crap P ordered can arrive.

ME: I can't find the Netflix envelopes. Weren't they on top of the TV?
HIM: Well, the kid can't get up there.
ME: Awwww, it's cute that you think there are limits to her powers.

In other news, I did make it to Weight Watchers this morning. I gained 1/2 pound this week without even trying. Sa-weet! Then I headed to Younkers because I had a $10.00 coupon and thought I could pick up a couple of spring/summer items for the kid. It turns out there are only eight items in the entire department store that are not excluded from this coupon. :::SIGH:::

I should be excited that it's March, because that should mean that spring is on the way. But I'm not. I hate March. Porquoi, you ask? Well, March Madness for starters. My husband doesn't even watch basketball - until March rolls around. I don't know why it irritates me so - maybe because he donates our money to some stupid pool that he never wins. Or maybe it's just because people can't seem to shut up about it. Another reason I hate March is that the circus always comes to town. I mean, nothing says family fun like abject cruelty, right?

And finally, I am biased against March because it lies. It tries to tell you that it holds the promise of springtime, but it doesn't. Here in the upper Midwest, springtime arrives in June. When I was a kid in the 'burbs of DC they taught us this little ditty: "March comes in like a lion and out like a lamb." Do they teach that to kids here? I think it would just confuse them. March comes in like a lion and out like . . . some other equally dangerous carnivore, I suppose.

Here's hoping I can pack on another 1/2 pound this week. :::CLINK!!:::

Comments

Sam said…
So did you find the Netflix envelope?

I love how you've equated the circus with abject cruelty. And I agree. I haven't been to one in many years, and will not go to one again. Except Cirque Du Soleil. Have you ever seen that? It's wonderful--and only people, no animals!

I have to also agree with you about March. I live in NYC and it was about 18 degrees today. Awful.

By the way, is your sister sharing her blog name? If so, can you share? I'd love to check it out!
Alabaster Mom said…
Yes, I found the envelope and went straight to the post office so I wouldn't have to hear about it all day. Neither sister has a blog as far as I know. However, it wouldn't surprise me if the smartass redheaded one started a blog. She and I were the two English majors of the clan. The other sister got her degree in sociology.

Hey, thanks for checking out my blog! One of the Cirque du Soleil shows did come to town and I couldn't afford tickets - it seems *some*one has drained our lifeblood and our wallets.
Sam said…
Oh! I just looked back and realized that you welcomed your sister to the INTERNET, not to blogging. Goodness, she didn't have the internet?? No wonder I misunderstood at first!
Audreee said…
I was actually considering starting my own blog(I am the "smartass redheaded one" mentioned), funny it should come up. Either my blog will be a parody of alabaster mom's blog: "I gained 3 ounces this week blah, blah, blah....my husband watches poop petrify on television...blah...blah..the kid won't sleep."
Or, my blog will be an intelligent commentary on daytime television.
I will let you know when I decide.
Audreee said…
Jason (my husband) read the comment that I just left and he said that I am really mean. Now I feel bad, so I guess I will make amends. I just leave these comments to irritate alabaster mom, because I am her sister and it is my job. I do actually enjoy reading the blog, otherwise I wouldn't bother.
Alabaster Mom said…
That's it. I'm telling Mom.

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