Sorry for my Silence!

I've never had to say that before. "Silence" is kind of a foreign concept for me.

I haven't written because I'm lazy and tired. I find when I'm lazy and tired, I don't write anything funny, and then I get shit from some of my more discriminating readers (Mdme. L, in other words). However, many of my readers have felt a void in their lives because I haven't written for a few days (well, one lonely little reader emailed me and asked me to write. She is now my favorite, most pathetic cousin. Her name rhymes with "Lia." Go give her a hug.), so I figured I'd better get on the stick.

I have a few topics I need to discuss. First off, no, I haven't lost any more weight. Still at 126.5. On the upside, I haven't gained any weight, either, so things could be worse. I also can tell that I will be thinner tomorrow (dammit) because I am REALLY empty and hungry right now. There is a story, involving eating tiny pumpkin muffins, a clogged toilet and a crib mattress as to why I haven't lost more weight, but I am not at liberty to divulge it until after the wedding, for reasons I will make clear next week. All you need to know right now is that I ate too much this past weekend to lose any weight (piss off, those of you who are judging me. I know who you are.).

Next topic -- unfortunately, I discovered anew last week that MY HUSBAND is capable of rendering me almost crippled in about half an hour. I could barely walk. For three days the pain in my legs and butt was excruciating. My muscles screamed when I climbed the stairs. You might be saying, "My husband/wife/trick I picked up at the bus stop/ did the same thing to me last week." However, when MY HUSBAND decimated me it was not with bedroom acrobatics like the "Congress of the Flying Blue Monkey" or a pair of gravity boots -- that I would have applauded. Instead he gave me about half a dozen exercises to do in the cellar (while he watched -- he likes watching me exercise so he can point out errors in my form while he admires my form, IF you know what I mean). I should have known he was tougher than someone named "Candy," but he is so much more elegant than Candy that he had me fooled.

Sadly enough, kicking my ass in a workout class isn't that difficult. A four hundred year old woman taught the class at the Y on Monday (she looks great for her age) and she totally beat me up. Let's call her Sadie the Sadist. The class was a little slower than it usually was (the albums Sadie was playing on her gramophone kept slowing down whenever it needed to be cranked again) but when you have been around since before indoor plumbing like Sadie has, you can really power through those squats.

[FN: I really hope Sadie never reads this post, because I have nothing but respect for her, and I truly hope that Mdme. L and I can teach a similar class when we are Sadie's age in the morning, before we go to our library job. "Didn't I see you at that class we teach at the Y this morning, dear? Did we make you throw up again? Lovely. Have you read this book about an irrisistable, rangy, billionaire cowboy in Montana? Great scene on the back of that horse -- it gets my "Five Heart" rating!"]

Before I sign off, I'd like to remind my readers that Valentine's Day is a week from yesterday. You really should either, 1) Do something thoughtful for that special someone; or 2) Make a date with a stranger that you think you can lure into your bed. I actually saw an item in Martha Stewart Living Magazine that I am going to get for MY RAVIOLI -- a hot water bottle. Martha suggested that you sew a cunning little flannel bag to put it in, but I think he will have to happy with a bow. Our bed is so cold when we get into it (I don't heat my bedroom with the express purppose of keeping the children out of it. If they dare to open our door, an arctic blast pushes them right back into their heated bedrooms.), and my feet just torture him. I would love to get one of those bed warming pans that you fill with coals and pass under the sheets, but then I would need servants, so that probably isn't very practical. I also worry that the coals would set the bed on fire.

Once he warms up the bed, we're fine, but those first few minutes are kind of rough, so I think the hot water bottle will be a big hit. I would be interested to know what others are planning for Valentine's Day. I think I am going to "strongly suggest" that MY RAVIOLI take me out to dinner on the 21st. "Strongly suggesting" what you want for gifts is a very good marriage strategy.

I'd better pack it in now and go to bed. I am freezing and starving. I am already cold, even before I have made it to my room, because I have stopped using heat on my first floor in an attempt to punish the mouse population. I got a letter from their attorney requesting that I keep the heat to at least 60 degrees, but as they A) Don't have a lease; B) Tried to eat my Godiva cocoa; C) Don't pay rent; and D) I'm trying to kill them with traps, I don't think they're going to get very far. Their attorney is really taking their money under false pretenses.