I've been a carefree single
girl the last couple days. You know, flitting about in clubs
wearing gauzy DKNY outfits with Kitten Goes To Paris! glitter
all over my ta-tas, downing cosmopolitans by the bucketload,
and teasing besotted stockbrokers while adjusting the buckle
on my snakeskin Manolo Blahniks.
Or, in reality, tromping around
my backyard with my unwashed hair tied up in an unattractive
clamp with a do-rag thrown over the whole mess wearing dirt-caked
jean shorts and a saggy tank top.
Damn, I'm lame.
JB has been out of town the
last two days, and I decided to attack the yard on my lonesome.
We have this garden area in our backyard that is woefully barren,
and it's bugged me since we moved in. So I hit Home Depot AND
the local nursery, and loaded up with $200 worth of plants.
Blue flowers and yellow flowers,
mostly. I've decided those are the only two colors that are fit
for a garden. Pink? Go to hell. Red/orange? Die. Fuschia? Blick.
Brown? Well, I can't think of a brown flower, but if there is
one I hereby declare it ShitBloom and I won't have it.
$200 actually buys you a heavy
load of plants. I mean, just carrying the stuff from my car to
the backyard took about a thousand trips. After I got everything
situated in the yard, I took a deep breath, and hefted the shovel.
And dug. And dug. And dug. And - gotsomeicedteaibuprofen - dug.
There are evil, witchy roots
everywhere in our yard, from all the trees close by. You don't
just dig, you chop wildly at the ground until you have something
approximating a hole. Each hole takes, oh, about 2048329 hours.
And the satan-spawn bark dust gets all up in your nose and gives
you eentsy little splinters.
I'm still not done. I ran out
of garden soil to mix in with the plants, plus my spine threatened
to literally detach from my body, leaving me flopped bonelessly
on the ground while it floated away to find a nice new sedate
body to support.
So when JB gets home tomorrow
"What do you mean, I 'get
to' dig a bunch of holes for you? Hell no, you started
it - you finish it."
"Two letters: BJ."
"Where's the shovel??"
comments so far.
I have moved. - 1.03.2005
Obviously, a work in progress. - 12.27.2004
Happy holidays! - 12.24.2004
Listen, I am not a complete dick, it's not like I want Joe to die alone surrounded by cats or something. - 12.23.2004
Plus I am convinced my butt is extra big when it's upside down. - 12.22.2004