Touchy Touchy

Oh how I had grand plans. I was going to make cookies! And watch cheesy musicals! And I did. Except the cookies in no way turned out and now my house smells delicious and I am starving but there is just a mound of wet and slightly oily oatmeal in my garbage can. I have read and re-read the directions eighty-four thousand times and I still cannot imagine what I did wrong. Apparently when I said to some one earlier this week, "Any idiot can cook," I should have added, "but I am way to fucking stupid to bake."

Sad. I am expecting my You Are A Bad Wife And Perhaps Now You Understand Why You Have No Children badge in the mail later this week. As soon as they figure out how to engrave all those words on a tiny tasteful tin brooch I suppose.

Speaking of wives. Our pal Travis is taking one.

Sadly, it is his girlfriend that we have never really cared for. Though in our defense we haven't spent that much time with her and I am sure she is delightful and I will find something about her that I find fantastic. I will just look very hard and for a real long time if I have to. We are thrilled for him because he is happy and Travis just is not the kind of person to be happy. I think in all the time I have known him I have seem him smile once and at least one of those times involved J presenting him with a Large Box Of Porn.

And really, what man wouldn't smile at that?

So we are happy. And I am thinking that we should get them an engagement gift or throw them a party or something? She has been married before (one that ended ugly about a minute and a half after she gave birth) and neither of them have much family here but still. Travis is getting married. It is an Occasion to be Remembered.

The etiquette of this is very confusing and only made more so by Modesto Boy saying lets get Travis a Congratulations card.

Sweetheart. Love of my life. DARLING. They have engagement cards. And it is for both of them. Or you could write a simple note on nice stationary. But that card has a BIG ASS TROPHY ON IT HONEY. Perhaps this is the wrong message.

Sometimes I forget why I allow him out of the house at all.

DAMN my kitchen smells divine I just want to eat some cookies. WHY ARE THERE NO COOKIES. I mixed them, I baked them and NOTHING. But I can SMELL THEM.

And I have the song from Johnny Appleseed (anyone else remember that little Disney cartoon) stuck in my head. I keep singing it in an angry voice because I have no cookies. Oh the Lord is good to me, and so I thank they Lord, for giving me the things I need, the sun and the rain and the appleseeds AND NO FUCKING COOKIES oh the Lord is GOOD TO ME.

The rustling you hear? Is old Walt trying to dig his way out of his grave to come kick my ass.

Temperamental.