Hey it's Tuesday but really our Monday.
Here in Canada, last weekend was a long one. Yesterday was "Victoria Day" so in celebration we did something rather highbrow and stopped at a lovely inn for afternoon tea. Is there anything more lovely than delicate finger sandwiches and your choice of various elegant teas? Oh did I mention the confections, Darling?
Obviously, Dave has done this before.
I might have however my memory isn't the same since the alien abduction. Besides the usual waking up from "a dream" to find that my shoes don't really fit all that well anymore (sent back with wrong feet) and the whole finger separation thing made popular by bad sci-fi movies, I also cannot lift my pinky finger by itself and I have some strange lines on my face that weren't there before. And also? I've gained a little weight, obviously fluid from the intensive probing and dissection procedures. I sure am happy that alien life forms are intelligent and know how to erase your memory . God bless those nutty bastards.
All that aside, the Inn was amazingly pretty.
And then there was the antique place we "ran into" on the way back. This was not just an antique shop. It was an antique MECCA. Three buildings chuck full of all the kind of old shit I love - the kind that is all country and farmy and distressed and beat up. We found lots of stuff but came home with this chair.
So, all was right with my world until this morning. You see, I was all "Should I take a shower or blog first, shower or blog, shower or blog? and finally I figured I'd just blog because it seemed a bit little more fun to me. No sooner did I settle into a groove of picture uploading and such than a knock was on my door - one of those "cutsy" knocks, you know, like the kind that says "Hey, it's someone you know!!"
So I close up my robe a little, my enormous breasts ever threatening to expose themselves, and headed out to see who was at my condo door (through the peep hole conveniently installed for just such a purpose.) Before I could see who it was, three men were already starting to unlock the door because they were here to change the filters. And yes, there was a notice sent that I never received.
Anyway I let them in because they had already seen me in my jammies and ratty robe so whatever. They barrelled in and knocked against the overflowing recycle bin full of wine bottles because we finally threw out all the bottles with an inch of wine left, the ones we thought we'd use for cooking with but we didn't use them in time and they all turned to vinegar, so to recap we had this huge GREEN bin of Wino Evidence in the hall by the front door which I had fully intended to
So, anyway, the guys entered the Residence OF The Lady Who Doesn't Get Dressed 'Till Noon and Who Drinks Quite a Bit Of Wine.
Let's just say that I was just the teensiest bit pissed off about this whole situation.
Anyway the point is, if I didn't have a blog I would have been in the shower and they would have let themselves in - and my shower is glass and I never close the bathroom door - so, my friends someone would have had to die. And a very painful death too which would first involve the torture of the privates.
To drive the point home ad nauseam, let me give you a little background about this place. If your friends come to visit, the front desk calls you. If there's a fire drill, the front desk alerts you. If someone in the building has an infected toenail, the front desk informs you. If flying monkeys are invading the city, the front desk warns you, but if 3 strange men are about to bust into your condo and find you naked and not at your best age or weight, the front desk tells them to go on up, and also May the Force Be With You Gentlemen.
So the next time someone gives you that "don't you have anything to do? " looks when you talk about your blog you just tell them your blog friend was saved from a very humiliating situation and several men still have all their "equipment" all because of a blog, and we'll see who is belittling the blog world then, now won't we?