Put it On Ice

At what point should I be worried that Emma wrote "I WILL GET YOU" in dust next to the computer? Right now I'm just so glad she still likes to voice the undead. She wrote the same message in a watermelon half. It's nice when dust and watermelon talk to you, even when the message is harrowing and mysterious.

Hey, on another note. It's bad to do your contractor, right? Cause he's been living at our house, going ice skating with us, baking cookies together - I'm pretty sure he's dating the family. I have had sketchy boundaries in the past, but I managed not to sleep with our other friend who lived here for four months, so I have a little bit of Stranger Sobriety. (As we all remember in a time before blogs, I was a whore. A hobby whore.) Perhaps the family blog is not the correct medium for this particular musing. All(s) I'm saying is, it crosses one's mind when one's mind is mine. But then all sorts of things cross my mind. Plus I've been reading Carrie Fisher, and she brings out the wry in anyone. Wry me?

Anyway, I have learned to just observe with humor, and keep making cookies. That's why I weigh 300 pound (my goal) and have nothing interesting to write about.

On just as scandalous a note, I do have to share that the very best ice in the world is located at the center coke dispenser thingie at the Burbank Costco. The ice is very crushy. If there are fat Armenians in your way, or portly construction workers, DO NOT go to ice number 1 or ice number 3. It's too chunky. Just heftily push aside all Indian women in Indian saris (or whatever it is, those awesome beaded tablecloths they wear) and fill you up some ice. Put it directly in your pants if you wish.

It's not that the guy living with us is so great, even. He just happens to be a guy, living with us. He's a novelty, even the kids use him for amusement. Perhaps my friend Chris will use him when she comes out, I may bequeath him to her. And then I will marry them at the ice machine on a Friday while I eat pizza and say yes, ice is just as good as infidelity! Yes!!

(Hi Mom. Yes, you, GS)