And That Was The Week That Was

It snowed last weekend. A lot. It wasn't fluffy nice snow you can scoop up and eat, either, it was the sharp killer ice that likes to make you stick to it if you go outside nekkid. Not that I know anything about that as I have special snow pants which I totally got on sale for like $10 in Modell's back in 2001 and that was the greatest deal ever in all my life because those pants deter the coldest of cold. Shame I don't have a similar article of clothing for my face. Not that it matters, because the pain of frostbitten nostrils is insignificant next to the horror that is SHOVELER'S HERNIA. Not that I'm complaining, I actually did really good for a long time before my innards all gave up and went wherever they wanted.

It was the holiday season, and Sunday marked the 20th anniversary of not only my first obscene phone call, but the 20th anniversary of the horrendous death of the daughter of the nurse of the surgeon who happened to be removing a tumor from my boobie that very day. Lockerbie, kids, never forget it. I'm not kidding. I didn't know any of this as I was alternately unconcious and sharing my Jell-O with my Uncle Gene, but he knew, and he told my mum. It was, in my lifetime, one of those days I'll never be able to fully comprehend, possibly because of the Valium, but most likely because it goes beyond storytelling.

Nan found a movie called Subterano about a bunch of Australians trapped in a car park with a crazy killer toy, and then she found The Curse Of El Charro, which is about a bunch of girls trapped in Mexico with a crazy ghost. Lemmy from Motorhead is in the movie, so you Lemmy completeists get on this, but skip it if endings where the hero gets a crappy hand dealt to them pisses you off. One the one hand, we saw a movie with video game characters skipping out of a carpark into a sun-shiny day with mountains and oceans and happiness, and on the other hand we have one of those HERE'S YOUR REALITY endings that pisses me off. Dammit, if I ever defeat the bogeyman don't be locking me up in the nuthouse--at least don't forget my headphones.

We ate scrambled eggs, oatmeal and soup to prepare for the insanely large meal we were about to eat on Boxing Day, and this resulted in lower blood pressure for the two-thirds of us with high blood pressure and helped get rid of my totalbodyheadcramp. Not satisfied, I spent Christmas day running amok with a vacuum, traumatizing the Puppy and gathering every wayward dustbunny and also a little pink felt ear from one of the toy mice. It was like an offering to appease the vacuum god Euroreckhoover. Must have worked, because writing this last bit of this last week in review for 2008, I'm pretty happy with the way things turned out. I started this month terrified of the future, spent the first weeks trying to change what I could, and now I got to introduce my cats and dog to my aunt, uncle and cousin, and my mum and Nan cooked a meal like the olden days of army dinners and the oven didn't cut off and gas us, and of course my hernia tried to complain but eff it. This week was good.

I can't believe the year's down to four days. Countdown time begins in 48-ish hours!

Next week I'm going to be doing something different on Saturdays, something I think is going to be more amusing. To me, anyway.

And That Was The Week That Was