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2006-11-08 - 6:42 p.m.

Buddy Just Brought Me a Hairbrush -- Need I Say More?

I can hardly believe it, but I actually did some cleaning when I arrived home this evening.

House cleaning...on a weeknight, people!

To make matters even more incredible, I whipped out the vacuum. And then changed the vacuum bag before putting it away.

I haven't even managed to clean on the weekends lately (too busy sleeping), so this is big time stuff over here in Haloville.

I can't tell you how lovely it is to walk in the kitchen and not see unwanted dog kibbles strewn everywhere. (I bought the Kroger version of Beneful last time, and SweetPea is quite disgruntled with everything but the red and orange bits. Brown and tan kibs are apparently disgustingly evil. Although Buddy doesn't seem to mind them. Of course, as you know, Buddy is very open-minded about things. Yet here's something odd: SweetPea loves black licorce. She's a kookball for Twizzlers. And apples, pears and nectarines. Buddy's like "Ehhh. No thanks. I'm gonna head to the gym. Have you seen my silver shorts, mom?")

Anyhoo, although there is much more to be done household-wise, I'm so pleased there are no dishes in the sink, my paid bills are stashed away, the 6 pack of bathroom tissue is off the kitchen range and put away...in the bathroom, the top of the microwave is cleared off (who wants old hard French bread? Buddy was especially delighted), and my Netflix copy of "Nacho Libre" is unburied from the stash o' shit on my coffee table/desk, and now sitting by my bedroom TV, ready for watching soon.

The dogs are cozied up and napping close by, four candles are lit, a few windows are open since it's not too cold out, "Meet Joe Black" is playing on the TV in the background, TiVo is recording my nightly favorites in the bedroom, I'm logged on to my Rhapsody music service, ready to pick out some tunes, I'm writing an entry for you fine people, and the canned beer is chilled (tonight's selection is el cheapo Natural Light -- "brewed for a naturally smooth taste," born on September 27 in the year of our Lord Two Thousand and Six -- and purchased at the Food Mart by the airport on the wayeth home. I wisely skipped their new "Mexican Buffet." I'd rather lick the bottom of a roach coach than try those tamales, know what I'm sayin'?)

I'm having to watch the moolah again since I burned through my spending chunk o' my retirement distribution faster than K-Fed at a Vegas strip joint. (By the way, HOW COOL IS IT THAT BRITNEY FILED FOR DIVORCE? 'Bout fucking time! But the best part is that he had no idea it is was coming! She skipped all his NYC album promos over the weekend. SWEET! She dumped the baby weight and the loser weight in one fell swoop. You GO GIRL! Suddenly I really like her again. She has an iron clad pre-nup and is back in the studio. Once again, Brit, BRAVO! I forgive all your trailer trash antics and procreation-with-a-sleaze boneheaded moves. You lost Justin and married a skeezy back-up dancer. It happens to the best of us. Now go be friends with Madonna again and get back on track. On second thought, you might want to avoid Madonna for awhile).

Anyhoo, where was I? Right, right. I burned through my happy spending money. I knew it wouldn't last too long and wanted to enjoy it while I could. But, out of curiosity, I sat down the other day and figured how much I really spent on "stuff."

First off, I had 25% shaved off for federal taxes (which I could've stuck in a CD to make interest till April), but there was a part of me that was afraid that whole wad o' dough might be so tempting in a "OH MY GOD I HAVE MONEY NOW!" delirium that the one thing I'd FORGET to do was set aside money for taxes. 99% of me was sure I wasn't going to be that stupid, but that deliriously happy 1% could fuck it up in a heartbeat ("I bought a horse! I don't know why! It was pretty! I had the money!" or more likely "I quit my job. HA! Ha! I'm gonna buy Twinkies and watch Oprah now!")

Looking back, since I stuck to my first things first plan...as planned, I should've made money off that wad instead handing it over to the gov'ment early. HERE. TAKE THIS. SURELY YOU CAN SPEND IT MORE UNWISELY THAT I CAN.

But hey, hindsight's a bitch and it's taken care of, so no use crying over $100 in interest that could've bought me bottled beer...and...more bottled beer. With a pizza. And breadsticks. Every week for the next six months.

Oh w/hell.

After scritching and scribbling, I discovered I only spent/blew (blent?) a fraction of my distribution on fun/neato stuff.

Much of it was boring but important shit. Prescription co-pays, car maintenance, dog flea/tick/work meds, pantry stock-up goods, clothes, etc. Of course, I didn't buy winter sweaters as planned, or get my car A/C fixed, or buy a new vacuum, but I can whip up a batch of my world famous seafood pasta salad RIGHT NOW. And I can have a cold at LEAST four times before I run out of Lipton chicken noodle soup. And if you're coming over to visit me and happen to be in the mood for tartar sauce for dinner, well, you're in luck.

As for the fun stuff, yes, I did buy TiVo (still need to send my rebates in though! Which might help ease my love/hate relationship with that fucking box that recently, inexplicably, refuses to record my 5 am episodes of "Mad About You" anymore, even though I bumped it second -- under Grey's Anatomy -- on my season pass manager), and a new TV, and some DVDs and CDs, fancier nibs at the grocery store, a few internet purchases, lots of miscellaneous crap and some extra charitable donations here and there.

But as per my master plan, a big chunk went to pay down 3 credit cards. The rest I squirreled away in savings, and CDs for state taxes, the early withdrawal fee, vacation or "fuck, no, I need to live off this" money (maturity date in March) and a rainy day (or not) small CD that matures in July.

Once I put in all in perspective, I didn't feel guilty anymore.

But I will tell you one thing, and some more things after this:

"House" was really good for about two random episodes.

But now I'm extremely annoyed that this supposed genius and his extremely bright underlings have to rule out EVERY DISEASE KNOWN TO MAN and THEN SOME (Toxic Shock Syndrome? Scurvy? Cancer of the kneecap? Polio? Ebola virus? Lack of spine disease? Or is it...THE BLACK PLAGUE?) many which are so uncommon or have been eradicated for 500 years, so they treat the patient for six diseases they DON'T have (sickle cell anemia, syphillis, prostate cancer), only to find out that Sally Jo Schmooenheimer, the whitest nun on the planet, is allergic to eggs.

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

Halfway through another episode I was shouting at the TV: "JESUS! The guy is clearly a diabetic with epilepsy! Low blood sugar! Episodes of writhing, drooling, and biting the tongue! HELLO!"

I think "House" will be taken off season pass.

I'm still debating about my season pass of "Medium." Patricia Arquette is forever waking her family up in the morning, or calling them in for lunch, and making them food. It's normal and comforting, and since food-related, thus nice-like (I love it when she pulls 4 condiments out of the fridge and holds them between her fingers and arm), UNTIL one of her children gets their throat slit over breakfast, and she wakes up in a cold sweat and her husband says either "Honey, what? Ohhh...It's nothing, not everything is a vision, go back to sleep" or "Christ, you better call the detective." I don't trust her husband -- he gives me the squeebs. He WILL leave her for a bottle of tartar sauce...or Buddy. Or both. And she's just whacked. But I like her. I wish her husband's throat would get cut in an episode though. But that's too much to ask for.

As for Law & Order (CI, SVU): I push "play" and fall into a deep sleep because I've seen almost every goddamn episode. I wish TiVo would play recorded shows one after the other...much like live TV. (How novel!) I hate waking up in the middle of the night to some random channel with an infomercial. Why can't TiVO understand that it should play the stuff in my X-Files folder after it gets done with Law & Order?

But the one show (besides 30 Rock) that I LOVE these days is "Six Feet Under." I'd heard it was great and often contemplated buying the whole series on DVD, but refrained. Now it's on Bravo and I'm so addicted. But I find it weird that the episodes I'm watching now are from 2001. Feels ancient when they reference the year in an episode, but it's still timeless. Does that make sense?

Must be a lot like folks who never saw "Sex & the City" until they put it out on TBS with edits. I'd bought all those DVDs, so I was behind on it for a few years, then I caught up for the most part. Now the whole show seems very silly and dated to me. The jokes were pretty lame too. Carrie's writing was not very imaginative. But in every episode there was a mark that was hit. I KNOW THAT! I CAN RELATE!

There are still a few seasons (4th or 5th? Where Carrie hooks back up with Aidan) that I love. I remember spending a whole day watching the earlier seasons 4 or 5 years ago, and being so RIGHT THERE with all their problems and issues. I recall painting my toenails (for the first time in years), and buying a new pair of sandals and toe ring. Back then at that complex, I washed and dried my clothes at the laundry room near the office (before I got my own set). My legs were slightly tan, and I remember wearing those sandals and that toe ring, trying to look cute, because you never know.

I still miss that cute guy I saw two Saturdays in a row. Other than that, it was Indian couples or rednecks.

I always had to get $3 in quarters every week at the grocery store. Why the fuck would I miss that?

But I do. And I miss sorting my laundry, measuring out cups of detergent into baggies, setting the timer, running up and down back and forth to the laundry room, and finally folding my warm clothes while half-watching Saturday morning cartoons (Dora the Explorer and Little Bill) while my cat Noodle slept on the couch. It was a bitch, but a routine get-it-done bitch that I took care of before 10 am (mostly) every Saturday. Then I spent the rest of the day cleaning the apartment from top to bottom (I used to MOP, dammit! Pine-Sol and hot water in a bucket! Before I became lazy and Swifferized). I'd finish by 5 or so and spend the rest of the weekend laxy laxy.

Things were so simple before I had dogs.

Now if the dog fur is under a heavy object, cool by me. Or under my feet while wearing my socks, no problem. Of course I wash socks all the time now since I have my own sweet w&d. I can wash blankets and sheets on a Tuesday if I want to. Not that I do. But I have the choice.

I could. I choose not to.

Speaking of laundry, I had a dream last night where I was on a road trip with friends, and at a particularly freaky food mart, a literal hole in the wall underneath a shelf revealed a pair of Jack Nicholson's briefs.

How we knew they were his, still a matter of speculation. But THEY WERE HIS.

And my guy friend (bastard) pulled them out ("why didn't anyone sell these on eBay?") and pushed them over my head (I told you he was a bastard) and I flailed and flailed, nearly suffocating while trying to remove them. My arms were molasses trying to clobber marshmallows.

What does THAT mean?

It can't be good.

Or could it?