Join Me in Snarkville

One of the things I truly hate about bowling night is that I SUCK at bowling.  I mean seriously, I’m not any good.  Even with my bloated handicap (which frankly is just enough pins to make me feel like a real bowler, but always reminding me that I in fact suck and need to be spotted nearly 100 pins to have a snowball’s chance in a hot place of winning a match), I firmly hold my team back.

As of last week’s standings, we dropped to 4th place — but I know we will be coming back and soon.  The bye week’s throw me off, because we have more points than one of the team’s ahead of us, but it ranked on percentages.  However, back to ME.

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When I was a little girl, I told my mother that I wanted to be a Policewoman.  (Perhaps this began the obsession I have with crime shows on TV, but I think it has more to do with my early indoc to Quincy as a wee one.)  The Queen Mum, being a rather wise sole, asked me why.  I believe I told her because I wanted to get rid of all the bad people in the world.

I got to thinking about this .grand plan I had at the wise age of 4 or 5 this week.  You know, I think I can declare that with this blog I’m helping all the “bad” people that affect my life.  Now my you, I’m out there sending anyone to prison, but instead I’ve made it my mission to write open letters to those people (and things) that annoy me.  It is my hope that one of those people may someday read my open letter and be better for it (See I snark for the greater good).  Until then, here’s hoping it is at least worth a giggle.

Without further ado, I bring you Open Letter Friday.

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Yesterday, I was NOT in Snarkville all day.  Prince, Duke and I woke at the crack of dawn and ALL of us got dressed and ready to walk out the door shortly after the crack of dawn.  I should note that this is a feat unto itself, three humans in MY house getting dressed at roughly the same time is amazing.

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Late last night when I took the photo for this post I had an awesome title, then another and then another. So, this, much like those “Pick your own adventure” books of my youth, is a “Pick your own title” post.

Options are:

• What a Monumentally Stupid Way to Die
• Frankenhouse Strikes Again
• How the Queen Becomes a Widow
• You Want Me to WHAT???
• This is NOT the time to take a Photo
• How to Change a Lightbulb, the non-joke edition

You choose.

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This morning, in a grand effort to get our butts out of the PJs until 3pm rut we’ve been in lately, we, the three royals, went on an adventure.  While the adventure was fun, the best part was the snipets of our conversations that I bring to you now.

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The first answer is Do not Blog!  Blogging at 3:45am is almost always a bad idea.  It is even more certainly a bad idea when you have so MANY other things to do at 3:45am — much more important things to do at 3:45am.

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Now first, before I begin, I must ask the all important question, at what doctor’s visit do I get the “here’s the three perfumes you must chose to wear for the rest of your life; from this point forward you will have a weekly hairdresser appointment and the word ‘teasing’ will be used often; and just for kicks, here’s some double knit polyster pants with elastic waist to wear.”  Oh, and the sensible shoes — because there must be sensible shoes, right?

Well, I may not know when we get pulled aside in the GYN’s office and told of the ways of the older woman, but I have learned where one of the three perfumes can be purchased.

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I know this will come as no shock to those closest to me, but I think it is time I publically admit my addiction.  Come to find out honesty is an important to addicts and thus I’m going to put this out there as just how serious my addiction has become.  (Not that I’m looking for a cure, mind you, just to admit how seriously little life I have.)

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First, in case you were truly worried, Roberta has seemed to have lived.  We are all thankful that she’s made a full recovery and will be forever more teased with abandon about her “brush with death by fork.”  We assume her “tyne” had not come yet.  After all you know there is a “tyne” for every season. Yes, folks, I’ve got a million of them.

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Now, I don’t really have to remind you that I can be a bit …um….emotional.  But today, I was caught off guard.

I’ve been fighting with a new computer program at work.  I’ve been cussing, asking questions, and trying to fix one little thing (that in reality has taken me two computers and 4 hours to get right).  I decide lunch is needed to continue.

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