Yo mama!

I am the queen of gravy making! I am king shit world heavyweight champion of gravies! No lie. You can say to me in your little whiny voice, “but my mom…” YOUR MOM LEARNED IT FROM ME!! and you can crawl around whimpering, “grandma…grandma…her gravy…so good..” and I’ll kick you in the ribs and make you apologize for your heresy once you’ve tried my gravy.
I am the interplanetary goddess of gravy and even Jesus himself could not tear the title from my grasp. Loaves and fishes indeed! Where’s the thick, unctuous sauce for your bread and fish??? It’s nowhere!!! I make the gravy around here and you better learn to like it.

This…that and the other

Just another one of those random posts
I woke up this morning feeling like I had overindulged last night. I went over the checklist of things I had to do to make me feel better, shower, coffee, french toast. Then it occurs to me that not only did I not overindulge last night, I hadn’t even partaken AND I went to bed early. Dang. All the hangover, none of the fun.
Met Owen for brunch, french toast! We caught up on our lives and mocked the horrendous toupé and ate our french toast. Good times.
Luckily, Owen was there when I went to start my car and discovered the dead battery. Dang again. He gave me a jump (with me being all ‘don’t blow my car up!!’) and I got my car over to the garage. New battery, oil change, lotsa car love.
Jen and I took the puppy to the lake and let him run around a bit. Happy puppy running in the sun, rolling in the grass, chewing on his meaty, chewy treat. Unfortunately, the grass was just wet enough that when he rolled in it he managed to get grass stains all over himself. He needs a bath now. Lucky guy.
When we put the house on the market we packed a lot of stuff thinking we’d be moving soon. We were wrong, I need my crock pot. I dug it out and now I have a lovely pot roast chugging away in the kitchen. mmm hot roast beef sandwiches.
I had a dream last night that a friend of mine and I were back in high school. We had decided to play hooky and go back to his place. He picked me up and on the way to his house he made me stop at the school and pick up my homework. Before we had any illicit school-skipping fun he insisted that we do our homework first and he was going to have to help me. I love when my dreams take my real life and make things obvious. He’s totally my smart, responsible friend.
The weird thing is that it was the first “i’m back in school” dream where I didn’t get lost in the building trying to find my locker.
This morning I almost skinned the puppy alive when I walked out of the shower and found he had chewed the shit out of my security blanket (yes, I have a security blanket, shut up or I’ll kick your ass. Hard). I didn’t kill him, but I made him stay away from me. He managed to keep a five foot distance from me at all times and whined pitifully the whole time. It’s so hard to stay mad at him.
I borrowed the Babylon 5 dvd’s from Alan. I’ve been watching obsessively. Season one was not so good, but it’s getting better. My question is, why are all space seeresses bald?
Roast is cooking. Yum.