Okay, so the cleaning thing has really got to stop. I'm finding myself standing in the corner of rooms, surveying the furniture and debating (with myself) if THIS setup is the most practical and homey. Thank Jebuddah I live alone, I would drive anyone else directly to the lunatic asylum, and I'm driving MYSELF batshit insane, wandering the apartment straightening things that don't need to be straightened and picking up every last crumb of kitty litter I find.
Kitty litter on a hardwood floor is the bane of my existence.
When the ladies were over for Girls' Night In, I was so PROUD! Look at my APARTMENT! It's so clean you could SCREAM (and back away from me slowly, because I am the crazy lady.) But Laroux and ElleVee are quite used to my insanity, and Laroux even APOLOGIZED for doing the dishes while I was at my shrink, I mean who APOLOGIZES for doing the dishes? Friends of crazy people, that's who. So yeah, the cleaning streak has not ended, much to the dismay of all who know me.
Other than chasing them with Windex, Girls' Night was freaking awesome. We got into nightpants, ElleVee knitted, Laroux brought over the complete series of "Kitchen Confidential," the short lived teevee show based on my beloved Anthony Bourdain's memoir, and it has Bradley Cooper in it, who I am loathe to say is one FINE LOOKING SPECIMEN of a man, even though he tends to look very fratty.
I can't abide fratty. I bet he has a collection of white baseball caps. Shudder. But still, HOT AS FIRE. I'm not happy about this, it ruins my street cred, although he IS in the A-Team movie, so that makes up for the frattiness, because yes, I am a 32 year old woman, but the trailer for the A-Team brought me back to being a wee child watching the old teevee show (much to the dismay of my mother, but not as bad in the shame department as my FAVORITE television show back in the day, "The Dukes of Hazzard." My mother haaaaaaaaaaaated that.)
But ANYWAY, we watched the entire 13 episodes, and then Laroux made this declaration.
Laroux: I am going to cook dinner.
Me: Aw, you don't have to do that! Anyway, there's no food in the house.
Laroux: *sigh* Then we're going to the store, and buying food, and I will cook it for you.
Me: I eat!
Laroux: *stares witheringly*
Me: ….sort of?
Laroux: I am making you a lasagna. You will eat it for a whole week, and you will like it.
Me: A…lasagna? REALLY??? Like the kind not from a box?
Laroux: Get your ass in the car, we're going to the store.
And y'all? She made me a lasagna. AND a salad. AND there was pie. I KNOW, I couldn't believe it either! Who knew that thing in my kitchen was a stove AND an oven! And the smoke alarm only went off once.
So there you go, Laroux took care of me, and you bet your sweet ass I'm still eating that lasagna, because I only get one real meal a week at Sunday Night Dinner with the parents, and no wonder I have no social life, I am clearly a 12 year old child who needs things like nourishment and my hand held in parking lots.
But at least the house is clean! SO CLEAN! Clean as the proverbial whistle. and if you'll excuse me, I have to straighten the slipcovers and fluff up the cushions on this couch. They're driving me batty.
Yours in craziness, but also full of lasagna goodness,