December 8, 2010

Paul McCartney Is Trying To Kill Me

This post isn’t really a post.

I know I haven’t written anything in a week but I am in holiday shopping mode and my brain is frazzled. I can’t focus. At all. I have a sneaking suspicion that Christmas music may be at least partially responsible. Every time I hear that Paul McCartney song where he keeps singing about how he’s simply having a wonderful Christmas time, a little part of my brain dies.

And it really doesn’t help that my cat (Ethan’s cat) is totally killing my zest for life. She’s insane and she won’t be happy until I am insane too. And not in the good way like I already am. The really insane way where you eat your own hair, wander around the neighborhood naked, and shout weird things like “Beam me up Scotty” for no reason. I’m not there yet but I’m getting close. (More on her in a later blog)

And according to the iPeriod Ap on my iPhone (yeah, that’s a real thing and it’s awesome), I am entering the land of  PMS any second now. And I know that it knows what it’s talking about because (a) Last night I dreamed that I was trapped inside a giant Reeses Cup and had to eat my way out, (b) I’m seriously considering trying to trade this cat on Craig’s list for maybe an empty bag of Cheetos or an old battery and telling Ethan that The President wanted her for a top secret mission, and (c) Today I cried because I saw a dead deer in the road. Then I realized it was a cardboard box. Then I kept crying because it looked like something was in the box and I was sad for whoever had lost it.

And you people think I’m hard-hearted.

Right now I have a glass of wine, a new episode of American Pickers, and Soft Blue Esquire (my favorite blanket) waiting for me in the living room, so let me get to the point: I will write you all something real by the end of the week. I swear. But for now I just wanna say thanks for being patient (except for those of you who weren’t), and thanks for all the email I got for my Oprah blog. You guys are a bunch of weirdos. And I think you all like chocolate even more than I do. Which is crazy.

Anyway, the winner of a big, fat, pile of delicious Hippos is Ashley Reina. She won because she is hard-core serious about wanting those freakin’ hippos. And she said really awesome things about me. And she is my #1 fan. And she is in love with me. And she works for a company that owns a restaurant that I love that makes queso that I love. And I’m hoping she’ll do me a solid and queso the bejesus out of me. But even if she doesn’t, I still dig her and she deserves the hippos.

Congratulations Ashley!!

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2 Responses to “Paul McCartney Is Trying To Kill Me”

  1. Anonymous Said:

    Ooohhh, girlie! Wait till you see what Claire is bringing you!!

    -Your #1 fan

  2. Anonymous Said:

    Ok, people. She wasn’t kidding!! Those hippos are AMAZING!! Thank you so much 🙂
    AR

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