<< prev = comments [16] = pings [0] = next >>


march right on out of here
03/29/2006 = 08:06 AM

The sixth and last clue is up for the Bahama scavenger hunt. Go register if you haven't already. You can't win if you don't play.

http://www.bahamabreeze.com/messagebottle

So, March is going out a hell of a lot more positively than it came in.

Last night, I took the Jeopardy! qualification test online. They don't tell you your score; just, if you hear from them, you'll proceed — if not, you've tanked. There's no way I can know for sure, but I feel like I did okay.

Another noteworthy triumph: mark your calendars for Monday, April 10th, on which date I will be the lead trollop in the greatest attention whorehouse in the universe, BlogInSpace.com, who is featuring this page as "Most Likely to Be Contacted."

This, according to them, changes my status on the 'net from "World Wide Web" to "Intergalactic Wide Web," but I wouldn't start substituting "iww" for "www" just yet.

I have been trying to think of what to say to the aliens if they call me. I was going to say that I wanted to speak with Mr. Spock, but I'm pretty sure he's not born yet. So instead, I'm going to ask for Mike Callahan, and if he's "then" (he's a time-traveler, so he could be at that position without being "there"), I'll just have him call Spock for me later on and tell him I said hi.

Or I could just ask the aliens to please give back Tom Cruise's sense of humor. I swear, I distinctly remember his having had one before.

Here's the best bit so far, though.

When I won the Everyday Hogwash daily and weekly awards, instead of being happy for me, That Man of Mine insisted they were a scam and I wasn't going to get any money.

I told him that, if it turned out not to be a scam, he wasn't getting one penny, since he'd spoiled my pride in a job well done (if I do say so) with his attitude.

Today, we got a missed delivery notice from the carrier, return address from the sponsoring company.

And now That Man of Mine is insisting that he never said it was a scam, he only said he'd believe it when he saw it, and now he sees it, so he believes it.

Yeeeahh.

Anyway, I sent him to the carrier to willcall the missed delivery so I could go to the bank before work this morning. Yes, I am that impatient.

So he opened the package (presumably so he could see it and believe it) before he left the depot and put the check and accompanying letter onto the console for the drive home.

Then he hit a bump and his diet Coke, which was in the console cup holder, sprayed everywhere.

He couldn't rain on my parade anymore, but he could fucking well spill Coke on it.

The check is still totally legible and hardly stained ... just slightly wrinkly. The signature, thank heavens, wasn't touched. The bank will certainly accept it once it dries out. But still. What a curmudgeon.

And yeah, I'll share it with him. He's a curmudgeon, but he's my curmudgeon.

$1200. So I didn't win the grand prize, but I don't care. I turned something frustrating into something funny and I got paid for it. Go me.

Maybe my next stop will be the Bahamas. Who knows?

Or, maybe, the aliens will love me well enough to take me with them. I don't have very lofty goals. I just want to be the first person on earth to taste extraterrestrial beer.

Dear April:

You saw how March tried to mess up my mojo and how thoroughly I overcame it. Don't push your luck.

Sincerely,

Golf "It's Spring, You Silly Month — Do You Think We Can Get a Little Flower Action Going On Here?" Widow

drinking: cherry-citrus fresca
listening to: CKY, Ninety-Six Quite Bitter Beings
plans for the money: bills and taxes. if anything's left over, i'll buy something pretty to wear for my brother's wedding