i don't really know what to title this post so i've decided not to title it.

My computer has died.

The horror. The horror.

My BFF Jessica texted me a few days ago and said, ever so lovingly, that I needed to blog more because she's bored. Would love to. But, it's not exactly the easiest thing since....

my screen detached from the base.

Yeah, apparently that can happen. Who knew? Really, I knew I was on borrowed time with this baby (we bought her summer 2007). This relationship, though immensely important to me and one of the loves of my life, was not long for the world.

So, basically, it's not the easiest thing to blog as of late because it's not the easiest thing to prop the screen up and work - consider yourselves blessed that I fired the old girl up today to say Hi. I'm sure you're feeling super blessed right now. Super. Blessed.

My new computer -- hip hip hooray -- comes tomorrow. Thank God (and Amazon).

So I'm all set and ready to wait for Santa in a UPS suit to bring my new love to me tomorrow (seriously, cleared my schedule, moved Jack's vet appointment - he's had a bit of the runs lately, he's fine, white couch is not - and I'm planning on garage sitting until I need to sign). It will be the highlight of my week. You can spell computer nerd/pathetic S-U-S-I-E.

But when I came home today, true story, a box was already waiting for me. Funny, because I didn't order anything  prior to the new computer AND I actually know I didn't order anything (sometimes I forget and then the UPS guy really is like Santa because what he brings is - more often than not - a huge surprise). This time, I knew I hadn't ordered anything so this was a real mind bender.

This box. Well, I opened it, even though being raised during the unibomber era should've taught me better. Caution, wind. You get it.

And now, a brief intermission we'll call (back)story time: We need new knives. Badly. We didn't treat out wedding present ones with the respect they deserved and after six years of abuse, cutting a peach was a struggle. I was fine toughing it out until Christmas and putting it on "the list" but that's just me. Chuck "Worry Wart" Allison was apparently  a little, um, terrified of me wielding those bad boys for even another day. Why? Great question. I don't know. I am a delight and very capable and always responsible.

I opened up my mystery box, pulled out a brand new set of knives, and on top was the packing slip with a message.


We'll file that note under "pretty typical".

Naturally, it's my Seafair present. Obviously most couples exchange gifts at Seafair. And isn't the note just lovely? What an angel. (I'll spit in his dinner tonight). (just kidding). (or not). (I haven't decided). (No, seriously, I won't because the card is HIGHlarious and super appreciated). (Also, I really like parentheses.) (FYI). (Done. Promise).


The knives are fabulous. I mean, from what I can tell in the picture on the box. Chuck researched the entire purchase on Consumer Reports, blah blah blah, not listening. I'll wait until Chuck gets home to open them because my Susie "if it can go wrong, it will go wrong" Allison radar says that I will cut myself trying to open the new knives' box with the old knives. My life is one long Murphy's Law. My job is trying to stay ahead of the game.

So there ya'go. That's your cousin (and that was a Seinfeld reference. Educate yourself if you missed it.)

2 comments:

  1. Um... question. How does one dispose of old knives? I'd be worried that the garbage man would be stabbed when he picked up the bag and the knives stabbed through. Sidenote: My mom just walked in the room and said, you'd put the knives in a box and then throw them out. Huh. Guess that makes sense.

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Tell me about it. Oh and thanks for validating my life.

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