Bad news for my friend Jennifer. (I met her while stationed in England. She's in Ohio now.)
Her power is OUT.
And has been since Sunday thanks to Hurricane Ike.
She called to let me know that the power was STILL out and probably won't be back up until Saturday.
Poor Jennifer. She also said she had to throw out all her food from the fridge/freezer as it had gone bad.
Hopefully the power will be back up before Saturday. Because I can't even imagine what life would be like without power for so long. I suppose I'd pretend to be back in the Tudor era or something. But Tom wouldn't play along so it wouldn't be any fun.
Speaking of Tom, I had him hang up some pictures last night. I have him do it because no matter what I do, pictures always end up crooked. Plus these pictures were the kind that you needed a leveler to put up. And the leveler hates me. Trust me. It just does. I've tried many times to befriend the thing but it refuses and taunts me by making my picture frames crooked. Then it mocks me, from its place in the laundry room corner whenever I put clothes in the wash.
Haha. Another crooked picture for Amber.
So yes, I begged Tom to do it. And Tom, who prefers to just lounge around and do absolutely nothing on his days off looked somewhat annoyed when I brought it up. He knew something was up when I plopped on his lap and batted my eyelashes at him.
"Okay," he said. "What do you want?"
I nuzzled his neck. "Can't a gal just say hello to her husband?"
Tom just raised an eyebrow at me.
"The pictures," I reminded him. "I'd like those pictures to be hung up. You know the leveler hates me and.."
Tom rolled his eyes. "The leveler doesn't HATE you. It's really easy. You get a pencil and mark the areas where it shows that it's level. Then you hammer in a nail." He shrugged if this were the easiest thing ever.
I just batted my eyelashes at him again.
"Oh. FINE," Tom said, exasperated. Because after all the Family Guy episode that he was watching was one that he had seen, oh, a billion times before.
I jumped up and clapped my hands.
He gathered the pictures and the dreaded (mean) leveler and we headed upstairs.
Before the pictures I had wording that you could peel onto the wall.
Now, I tried to get some of this before. I found one at Target that read, "Always kiss me goodnight," and I loved it. But when I went to stick it on the wall I did it all wrong.
"You did it all wrong," Tom informed me as I stepped back to examine my work.
He was right.
The letters were peeling off and many were crooked.
So this time I had Tom do it.
"Is it straight?" he asked me from his spot on the bed.
"Yes," I said but with a question in my voice. I mean it LOOKED straight but in a way it didn't.
Tom sighed loudly. "Is it straight or not?"
He sighed again and jumped off the bed and stomped over to where I was. He peered at the wording.
"It's NOT straight, Amber," he said.
Okay so in a way I knew that but I didn't want to say it wasn't straight and have him be all cranky about it. It had looked straight enough for my liking after all.
So Tom fixed it.
Then came the pictures.
I started staring off into space. Going into my own world. I shouldn't be surprised when teachers tell me that Tommy seems to be in his own world sometimes. Because I certainly do the same. I started thinking about the peacoat I had ordered from Old Navy. I hoped that a size small was the right size for me. I didn't want it too tight after all. But I didn't want to get a medium and have it be falling off of me. And would a peacoat look silly, as though I were trying to be a fashionista or something? I hope not. I hope..
"AMBER!" Tom shouted, cutting into my thoughts. "I need the pencil to make my mark!"
He looked downright pissed.
"Oh," I said, all flustered. I found the pencil on the bed and handed it up to him. "Sorry. I was just..."
But he wasn't paying attention. He was busy making his mark.
And then Natalie got insulted because she wanted on the bed and I wouldn't let her.
So she fussed.
Then Tommy walked in all bent out of shape because he couldn't get his Transformer to morph back.
Let me just say that I HATE Transformers. The toy I mean. Because some are impossible to transform back. Or maybe I'm just downright stupid. I look at the instructions and I find I'm confused as hell and I try to twist the plastic pieces into place and it DOESN'T WORK.
So I took the toy from Tommy and tried to get it back into policecar form.
And it wasn't working!
"I don't know," I said to Tommy, handing it back.
"HELP ME!" he said all dramatically.
"Is it straight?" Tom's voice cut in.
"Yes," I said. I mean it looked pretty straight.
Tom stared at me for a few seconds as though trying to figure out if he should trust me.
He jumped off the bed and looked.
"It's NOT straight!"
It looked pretty straight to me.
"I.NEED.HELP.WITH.MY.TRANSFORMER!" Tommy shouted.
"WAHHHH!" Natalie added, wanting desperately on the bed.
I took the Transformer back. Surely a 26-year-old woman could figure out a TOY for heavens sake.
This 26-year-old woman could not.
"Done," Tom announced as I struggled with the toy.
I think he was insulted that I didn't clap with joy. Because I was too busy trying to transform the PIECE OF CRAP toy.
"Hello? I'm DONE. You're welcome," Tom said, all annoyed.
"Why won't this go back into the CAR!" I shrieked, twisting a piece that was a leg but was meant to be the hood of the car. Or maybe the door? I don't know.
"Let me," Tom boomed, taking the horrible thing away from me. He twisted and turned a few pieces effortlessly and it was back in car form.
"Now," Tom said, handing the toy back to a grateful Tommy. "What do you think?" He gestured to his work as though he were some famous artist or something.
"I like it. Thank you," I said.
I do like it. I bought it all at Lakeside.com.
Although I find it ironic that one of the signs reads "Kindness Matters" and Tom was anything BUT kind when he was hanging them up.
This is why I hate putting things together with him. He's just so dang CRANKY.
I also bought this at Lakeside:
It amuses me.
Of course when I woke up this morning I found this:
Tom just left his popcicle stick sitting there on my beautiful coasters.
When the trash is like, I don't know, less than fifteen feet away?!
It makes no sense to me.
However, I did notice that he did the dishes:
So I forgave him for the popcicle stick.
Although I still don't understand why he couldn't have walked a few steps and dropped it in the trash.