Live election blogging! Or, just something to kill the time while I gnaw my nails.
Unfortunately, I just shared a bottle of champagne to celebrate the closing of our house. Ah, yes. Let us revisit this bizarre and heretofore unparalleled weirdness that is our new home purchase. Several months in the making, it's a story involving;
Holes dug on the premises
A garage 1 foot and 2 inches from the neighbor's property (variance required 2 feet)
A weird living room addition built in the 40s to house an old auntie/uncle
A missing land survey
Electric lines so low a child could grab 'em
A swollen laundry hose, about to explode and flood the basement
A dryer that vents into a crawlspace
A bad cop, a good cop, and a cop with a difficult-to-observe hair appendage
One sweaty guy who ran the open houses
A master bedroom with no doors
A bathroom with no shower
Doorknobs that pop off when you touch them
[Obama now showing a 55% advantage in Florida. "You can see where the night is going" says CNN.]
But first! The story of my birthday party. This blog goes everywhere! It laughs at non sequiturs!
The party started off strong at about 7:15 p.m. when the first neighbors rolled in. We drank, we passed the cheese. All was very pleasant.
The party went on. Our neighbor banged out a Happy Birthday song on the piano to much raucous singing. My husband made a movie-worthy speech from the stairway landing, and delivered unto me a house for my birthday gift. I would like to add here that I will never forget that.
The party went on. Several infants arrived in baby-carriers, and were googled over. A pinata arrived, but I was cautioned not to hang it from the acoustic-tile ceiling. A spiral-sliced ham was heated and plopped on a plate.
Midnight arrived, and I was ready to go to bed. But just then! A silhouette of a strange figure appeared in the back door, as I sat in the back yard. She drew closer. I saw that it was S____, my best friend from CA, fresh in from a delayed flight from Rome. Glory be! S____, for those who know her, lacks inhibition.
She quickly gulped down two large glasses of whiskey, and the conversation between the late-night partygoers (gathered at the picnic table in the back) went horribly awry. I would like to apologize for the following snippets of conversation that the neighbors may have overheard. I also apologize for anything overheard by their impressionable children:
"Some people have their anuses bleached."
"My pudenda are dangling in the wind."
"Do you ever get into girl-on-girl action?"
Sometime around then--or was it before?--the Rabbi arrived.
To be continued!
[New Hampshire will go for Senator Obama, says CNN.]