It's been quiet here at Big Sandy Bottom lately. Not much to report, other than I am knee-deep in OCD vacation planning for our August trip to Disneyworld, aka the "Big Sandy Bottom World Tour 2006." T-shirts to follow. My family is teasing me relentlessly but they will be forced (once again) to admit my greatness when my advance planning results in a relatively stress-free vacation. As relatively stree-free as one can be in Florida in August, amongst masses of sweaty, smelly tourists steeping in 100 degree plus weather and humidity, that is.
I received an early birthday gift from my mother. The gift itself is priceless, but I have to admit my very favorite part is the instructions. It contains what is quite possibly one of the greatest sentences ever written "The structure of a marshmallow makes it an unpredictable projectile." How great is that? Did you ever think you would read such a marvelous sentence? Me neither. And the gift itself-a marshmallow shooter! Who is the evil genius responsible for the existence of this item? It makes the whole "mini marshmallow hitting me in the forehead while brushing my teeth" incident seem a little less spooky, doesn't it? I guess there is almost always a reasonable explanation for these things, which is sad. I mean, I don't have any evidence that a member of my family possessed or used a marshmallow gun to impersonate a poltergeist, but it certainly doesn't seem to be out of the question. First my shower head ghost is revealed to be a talking "Three Stooges" bottle opener, (which is actually just about as weird as a shower head ghost now that I think about it.) Now I am faced with the possibility that my mini marshmallow-hurling poltergeist could have actually been a family member wielding a gun that shoots marshmallows, (which is ALSO pretty weird.)
My mom and I were listening to Augusten Burroughs' "Possible Side Effects" on our drive from LA to Moss Beach. While he is not as "lol" as David Sedaris, he is still pretty funny sometimes. We especially enjoyed the "Druggy Debbie" segment, which revealed the previously unthought of (by me anyway) existence of a stealth weapon that every woman possesses, at least for about a week every month. It's hard to imagine an incident where I might need to "pull out" this weapon, but I have to admit that the idea is strangely compelling. But maybe I'm just sick that way...
That's it for this week! Watch "Veronica Mars". I command you.
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