Goodbye, Fat Pants

An unfailing source of comfort. A non-addictive sleeping pill. Blindness to flaw. Tenderness, acceptance. Unpretentious and mysterious.

These are a mere few of the endless delights offered by my fat pants.

The palest of grey cotton jersey, the mesh of the vertical blue stripe along each leg, the everlasting brown carressing the cuffs... these pants have journeyed from Target's "last chance" rack to Annie to Torie to Natalia... ending with me, only to perish at the hands of my own husband.

Darin recently said to me, "Louise, I don't see how you can feel any less than gross in those things." How could I have not seen the extent of his hatred?!

Woe! I, nor anyone else, will ever lay eyes on my beloved fat pants again. They are gone forever, taking their final asthmatic breaths in a landfill. *wistful sigh*

Will I ever experience comfortable sloth again? More importantly, will I ever love again?

Woe! Woe to the Fat Pants! Woe to memory! Convenience! Questionable stains!

Woe to Darin, who will suffer greatly henceforth. Poophead.

Rest in Peace

From Mr. Wilson to Mahluli to Darin...

We'll miss you, ghetto Saturn.

Darin and I are driving back to the inlaws today to pick up a car for temporary usage.

Why did you have to die, ghetto Saturn? With your mismatched fender and crooked steering?

*single tear*

Too Lazy for a Real Post

It is Spring Break at my alma mater. This is why I am perpetually present, pretending that I am, once again, a brooding college student. Some tibidgins:

A toast to Quentin Tarantino

Monica, the girl in every picture

Meghan and Monica's death wish

A ten-minute study break with Shakespeare and Oscar Wilde


I'm running off to work now. Ciao, my loves!

In the Name of Love... and chili beans.

I wish my inlaws didn't infuriate/amuse me the way they do. Before I continue, let me express my undertstanding that most of the annoyance lies within my own weakness. I really do love them dearly.
That being said, it's time for some

Schmeez Droppings
Thoughts, Realizations, and Excremental Wisdom

• I love Eric, Darin's younger brother. We were on NET together in 2000, and can easily communicate and tease each other. I enjoy spending time with him, despite his poor taste in film. (C'mon, Unbreakable?!) Anyway, he's cool, intelligent, and a taller version of Darin. Plus he laughs at my jokes.

• Brian, on the other hand... This Recon Marine cannot maintain a conversation unless it regards himself. His wife is the same way. If ever I volunteer information, Brian and Sharron look at me in a slightly puzzled manner and quickly revert the topic back to themselves or their children. Brian is rude, crass, and egocentric. A typical conversation:

Brian: "Louise, if you saw my fist come flying at your face, would you be scared?"
Me: "Uh, yeeah..."
Brian: "So would I!" (guffaws)

• Why does Mr. Dad avoid good books? I desperately want to introduce him to some Fathers and Doctors of the Church. He has never even touched the Confessions. He is a huge follower of Poem of the Man God and stuff by "Anne" the Lay Apostolate. Momma say Whaa?
• My mom-in-law is very small, sweet, and considerate. That is why I feel so badly when she annoys me. If she was boisterous, it would be easier. This woman has two characteristics which I cannot hope to ever understand. She mutters and hovers. While the family sits down at table with after-dinner coffee, Mrs. Mom will not join in. She quietly leans over the conversators, wiping up every microscopic crumb, slowly and without a sound. I want to scream, "For Aslan's sake, woman!!! SIT DOWN!!"
• If there is any kind of wait at a restaurant, she wants to leave. If there are leftovers in the fridge, she force-feeds. If someone double-dips, she shows more emotion than if someone swears in front of the children.
  
• What would you do if your eldest brother-in-law smacked you on your bottom? Hard?
• I got into a debate with Mr. Dad about interracial marriages. He says that the child of a mixed marriage will not be accepted by either race. I pause for effect. He is slave to the ludicrous idea that all black people are from the ghetto and participate in drive-by shootings. Love does not play into his arguments at all... Isn't the point of marriage to bring the other person to heaven? He was absolutely appalled when I revealed that despite their strict dating rules, my parents made it clear to me that it did not matter which race I married into. He also wasn't aware that I have a 1/2 & 1/2 for an aunt- half black, half hispanic. Don't mess with me, buddy. Mr. Dad also thinks leftys should be trained at a young age to be right-handed. My case is rested.
• Brian's kids are adorable. I had a lot of fun playing with them. Good times.
• I do love my in-laws! I do! I am just completely happy to settle back into my cluttered apartment, with my own coffee and Splenda and computer and schedule.
  
• GIYOOO!!!
• Meghan and I are doing a scene from Twelfth Night. I am utterly excited, as I have never done Shakey before. I am Olivia, she is Viola- completely appropriate. I see it as a throwback to the AMC newspaper caption under a pic of Meghan and I from "The Importance of Being Earnest": Louise and Meghan are two young woman in love. Maybe so.
• I am singing a love song with Dr. A as well. From Evita?! As Angel would say with her head down on the table: "Three shots!"
• American Idol rocks my little Catholic world; Darin and I love Elliott. Any thoughts on this adorably toothy guy from the south?

Off to work. I have 30 minutes to pack an overnight-bag, get dressed, have lunch, make a snack, straighten my hair, and canoodle with Darin. Ciao!

Stay Tuned

Okay, so I got back a day later than anticipated. Let me recover from my Weekend with the Inlaws. Yeah, this one's gonna be good.

Until tomorrow, my loves.