In a perfect world...
...I could have my
I love Hoop. I think that's pretty obvious. But there is one thing that Hoop is not, and that's handy. He CLAIMS that he is. But I have yet to see any evidence of this. I think the truth of the matter is, he's handy like I'm patient. I also like to tell myself that I'm prompt too. They're both lies though. While all the other people born on January 29th of 1983 were getting their gifts, I was doled out extra helpings of chronic lateness and impatience. Can you picture the person who got my traits instead? He or she must be a fucking saint.
Two weeks ago my car started overheating. Like clockwork, ten minutes after I was on the road, the needle of my meter would shoot up into the red zone. Oddly, this always happened right in front of a church. I was beginning to think it might be a sign. Hoop checked all my fluids -on my CAR- and deemed they were OK. His conclusion was that the thermostat had gone bad. "It's just a three minute in-and-out job," he said. So I waited for him to find the time to fix it. Friday night, my car overheated three times on the way home. Then the right headlight blew out.
Needless to say, the weekend was a bit hectic, so my car never got tended to. I wasn't worried though. The car wasn't REALLY overheating, right? Tuesday afternoon one of the sales guys, who happens to be dating the receptionist, asked for my keys. He brought them back with the news that my car was out of antifreeze. Niiiice. Hoop's reply was, "So it really was overheating!" I forgave him, thinking he could make it up by filling the car with the antifreeze. Unfortunately, that didn't happen either. "I'll do it myself," I told Hoop grumpily this morning.
I found the jug sitting next to my car door... Full. "Hm. Maybe he doesn't understand how this works?" I thought to myself. The morning ran it's course and ended this afternoon in an argument. The problem is, I happen to think that I, the person in charge of cooking, cleaning, and making sure all the bills get paid, should not be the keeper of the cars as well. Besides the fact that the cars no like me, I don't have the first clue what the hell goes where, when, or in what quantity. The first time I checked my oil, I accidentally checked the power steering fluid instead.
My Mom believes it would take four people to run a household efficiently: two people to work and bring in income, one person to maintenance the inside (cook/clean/etc.), and one person to maintenance the outside (landscape/repair/etc.) Since we can't afford a maid or a handyman, I'm opting for a boyfriend. Think Chef Ramsay meets Ty Pennington. I wouldn't complain if he just so happened to look like Josh Holloway too. Then Hoop and I could work, and Chef Ty Holloway would take care of everything else while we were gone. I'd come home and he'd been all shirtless and- *Cough*
A girl can dream.
Not Far From The Tree:
Tink: I've got a question for you.
Papa Bear: OK.
Tink: If you had to go out in the freezing cold with only enough insulation to cover one appendage, which would you choose: your hands, your feet, your head, your chest, or your balls?
Papa Bear: How long am I going to be out in the cold?
Tink: I don't know. A day?
Mom: Hm. Tricky.
Papa Bear: Then it doesn't matter. I'm going to die either way.
Tink: Just pick one.
Mom: I'm going to say the head.
Papa Bear: Fine.
Mom: So what's the correct answer?
Tink: Correct answer?
Mom: You mean it wasn't a riddle?
Mom: What the hell?
Tink: I just wanted to know! Sheesh.