"Best Friends" my ass.....!

Waking up this morning, one single thought consumed me: WHAT IN THE HELL AM I GOING TO WRITE ABOUT TODAY?

Apparently, I didn't keep this thought to myself, because I received an answer.....from the other side of the bed.

"You should post 'The Incident' ", my husband said.

"There was an incident? Was I part of it?", I asked.

"Yeah....with the pheasant. It's hilarious!"

I'm completely incensed and reply: "So not hilarious, Mark."

"Really....well what did The Girls say?"

So. Totally. Busted.

"The Girls", would also be known as "The Trio" and consist of my BFF's with whom I share everything: Kristin, Lynda & Tracy. For a brief second I consider playing dumb, but figuring he'd call me on my blind copying them, I forgo the effort "dumb" takes and just own it.

"FINE. They all thought it ha-Larry-us, Mark. No sympathy for me whatsoever and pretty much laughed their asses off over my near death experience. 'Best Friends' my ass......!"

"See? Post it. And my response too....... great way to end it."

An Open Email to My Husband:
11.20.09 @ 9:30 a.m.

I've just spent an hour cleaning dried on blood splatter that has spent the last week dripping from the rotting birds on your work bench. I assumed you were going to throw them in the garbage, and I guess you thought I would do it since I brought the birds to your attention.

They are now wrapped in about 7 layers of plastic and in the garbage. The garage is open because it smells like death.

The floor, part of your bench and the freezer have been soaked, scrubbed and then wiped down with three buckets of scalding hot bleach water.

In addition, my head got stuck between the POS plastic work horse and the freezer when the horse decided to give out under the weight of all the shit piled on the bench! After a slight panic attack where I almost convinced myself that one wrong move would send 200 lbs of tools onto my head and either kill me or leave me as a quad, I got a grip and used the same Wonder Woman strength from the cell phone incident and somehow managed to push enough of the bench up off the horse so that I could pull my head free.

I do have a slight ringing in my left ear.

And I'm not at all happy right now.

After I've settled down (I'm thinking 4 martinis ought to do the trick!), I will be clearing your bench from as much crap as I can. Dad helped me right the work horse and it's now braced against the table. I know your busy, but your bench is going to collapse if something isn't done.

This will make a great story to add to your "Guess What My Wife Did" collection, but for now......I'm pretty fired up!

Mark's response to me: Ok. I won't be coming home.....again. It was nice while it lasted. I'll send you a postcard when I get my new place. Tell the kids I'll remember their birthdays.

Post Script: So. Not. Funny........Still! And apparently my Wonder Woman strength is located in my right ass cheek, as that is the only part of my body that hurts from lifting all 200 lbs of work bench off my goddamn head!

Now what?

In the words of my favorite author:
Shalom, Bitches!



After years of being told I should be a writer, and months of being told I should create a blog in which to showcase my writing.......


Here. I. Am.


(Crickets....... crickets......crickets.....)




With nothing to say.

I am so irony's bitch!



Um, Kristin....... now what?