You suckers just got SERVED.
2004-08-31
8:19 p.m.

I was thinking. Where are there not snakes? And, can I move there? Seriously, I should just find a place (an island, maybe. Ohhhh, Guernsey?) that has Zero Snakes, and I should move in and enjoy a snakeless existence.

There haven't really been any new and terrifying Snake Incidents since the Rattlesnake Experience of 2004, unless you count the time a few weeks ago where I was trudging along on the recumbant bike in front of a floor to ceiling window at the gym when a snake just undulated around happily in a corner of the window. AHHHH. But no outdoor actually in danger moments. I'm just musing. It still cracks me up that I moved to Arizona when I so, so fear El Snake.

My trip is almost here! I am almost off! I will sample, in this order, the delights of Vermont, Boston, London (for a layover, but a LONG one in which we switch airports and have time to putter and eat Indian food), Budapest, Vienna, Prague, London again and then home. Eeee and also squee! I am so excited. I will miss zee animals, though.

Have I mentioned that we kind of got a dog? We're technically fostering this large bundle of slobber and love, but we're quickly becoming unable to imagine life without her slobber and love, so we're thinking about adopting her. She is very sweet. She's three. Or nine. Really, we have no idea, since she was found in the desert by the gas man. She contracted Valley Fever, which in her case meant a bone infection, so she'll be on medication for the rest of her life, but she's totally fine now that she's medicated. I loooove her. Looove. Even when I get up at 5:30 to take her out.

My kids are going to live in the smelly house if I'm not careful. Four cats plus dog = constant vigilence against the reek.

You know what is a really excellent film? You Got Served. It is so awesomely bad. There is a slow motion dancing melodramatically in the rain bit. The acting is hysterically bad.

Also, you can say "You suckers just got served" any time you do anything, like fart. Not that my husband has done this. Except he has.

Right after the movie was over, we had a dance off. My husband is an excellent spazzy dancer, and he busted out a flail-y 1920s-esque number. Then it was my turn, so I postured for a minute and then whipped out a killer Charleston.

I don't even think I like good movies anymore. Seriously, I'm all "This sucked! Go rent it." "This was terrible! You have to see it." I need to readjust my taste, I think. Or just embrace it.