I've explored the deepest caverns of my mind

I know earlier this week I posted about losing weight.  Here's living proof that I am really not on a diet:

I made FOUR MICROWAVE S'MORES at 10:00 this morning.  I suppose I should specify that I ate them too.  All by myself.

Have I mentioned I'm a morning person?  Okay that pic of me with the legs going in directions legs don't go?  That's me *without* 100 grams of sugar coursing through my veins. Use your imagination.  I think if I tried to draw how I'm feeling now it would just end up looking like a Jackson Pollock painting. 

In my defense, when you wake up at 5 a.m., 10:00 is like lunch time.  So basically I had s'mores for lunch today.  Of course then I had to argue with Designated Hitter about whether he's really any better than me because he brought home THREE apple fritters after he went in for a physical.

Speaking of that (the physical, not the apple fritters), last night he told me he was going to work from home "for a little bit" this morning because he had to go in for this physical.  I assumed that meant "work from home for a little bit in the morning", as in "followed by going to physical and then going to office".  Ooooooh boy was I wrong.  He hadn't even been gone an hour... and then the back door opened.  And he finds this in the living room:

that's me, still in my slinky red silky nightie, covered in melted chocolate and marshmallow.  On a major sugar buzz.  Hmm, should I be insulted that he didn't offer to lick all the melty goodness off me?  Maybe I should have taken a shower before the s'mores.  Although he should be glad that I wasn't expecting someone else to walk in the back door and offer to lick melty goodness off me, considering I thought he was going to the office for the rest of the day.  He's so ungrateful. 

Then there was email.  Wait, background.  When we bought this house two years ago, our mortgage loan officer guy was quite the interesting character.  First of all, if someone wanted to make a biopic of Tom Hanks, but wanted to include shit that hasn't happened yet, our loan officer could totally play Tom Hanks circa 2025.  And he wore a bow tie to our closing.  No shit.  It was hilarious.  Our realtor warned us ahead of time that he might... he wore one once, a long time ago, around her and she teased him about it so now every time he has a closing with her he wears one.  I'm not sure I understand that, but whatever.  It made him very memorable!  So Designated Hitter contacts Old Tom Hanks to ask about refinancing to see if we can get a better rate... and the following email exchange occurs (any editing for the sake of the blog will be in different colors)

Old Tom Hanks:  Can you send me the following information - Complete Address/Year Acquired/Original Cost/Estimated Value/Principle Balance/Current Payment/Taxes/Homeowners Ins(month due).  Then I can forward you a worksheet to review.  Thanks. (yeah that part wasn't funny... bear with me)

Designated Hitter (hits the forward button, and says this to me): Can you find the information he is looking for?  Please.  (anyone besides me feel like that "please" was totally smartassed?  Like he really didn't want to say "please" but his mother was standing behind him going "and what do we say???")

This is where we see what s'mores at 10:00 do to me...  because I reply with:

Disclaimer: you probably shouldn't send this straight to him without a little creative editing.  I think I've lost my mind.

1. Do you (Designated Hitter, not Old Tom Hanks) seriously need our address?!?
2. Acquired: 2008
3. By "original cost" does he mean what WE paid for it?!?  Cuz that wording makes me totally think that he wants to know how much the first owner paid for it and that's stupid, especially if this was a 100 year old house.  Wait, I think I just answered my own question.  $(number with a lot of zeros in it) was what we paid for it 2 years ago.
4. Estimated value... how much has it changed in 2 years?  I mean besides the fact that the economy sucks.  The only "improvement" we've done to the house is to remove the mold that wasn't there when we bought it.  I don't think my pool counts, does it?  *sigh*
5. current balance - $(lots more digits, but less than the number from item 3 above) (seriously, how have we only paid off $5000 of the balance?  this makes me think that refinancing would be stupid because it would just start us back at paying $1 of balance a month.  but I don't like financial things so I'll just go play with my butterfly net**see below)
6. monthly payment - $(number with far too many digits to the left of the decimal point)
7. taxes - $(more digit-heavy numbers) 
8. according to our mortgage statement, they paid $(digits) to our homeowners insc on 4/26/2010.  That's significantly higher than last year's payment though, I'm guessing because of adding the pool or something.  or our insc agent is just a dick.  probably the pool though.

He did edit it before he sent it to Old Tom Hanks.  And he replied to me and laughed at me for being so weird.  So I shot back: you're making fun of me and you just forwarded an email to me to fill out without specifying that you do know what your own address is?!?  yanno I don't mind being your secretary when you're driving and need a hotel room, but this email was kind of pushing it a bit...  oh and in case you forgot, our address is (insert address here)  

It's been a very weird day so far. 

note from above** shortly before this email exchange, our mail lady had come to the door with our mail because there was a package that wouldn't fit in the box... but I totally missed the fact that she was ever here.  And I was sitting in the living room facing the front door.  Which has a glass inset.  Designated Hitter came out of the office and goes "did the mail lady ring the doorbell?" and as he was opening the door to get our mail off the porch, I replied with "she would have had to bring us a doorbell in order to ring it... and she didn't knock either.  Maybe she looked in the window and saw me sitting here in my nightie and chocolate and decided she wanted nothing to do with this houseOOOOOOH MY NEW BUTTERFLY NET!" 

It's a very cool butterfly net.  The hoop collapses and the handle telescopes, so I can shove it in a backpack when we're camping.  Yay bug collecting!


Which reminds me of a story from shortly after we got married.  We didn't live together before marriage, hell we didn't even live in the same state at all while we were dating and engaged.  And I didn't move in until two weeks after the wedding.  No, not because of a honeymoon.  I didn't get one of those.  Unless you count one night in a Holiday Inn Express with me suffering from the flu (influenza, not stomach) while we were driving back from our "destination wedding" (not nearly as glamorous as it sounds... it was 35 degrees below zero)  


I think I'm off topic.  Bug killing.  So I move into his house (BIG MISTAKE, PEOPLE!  Sell the house and buy your "together house") and I'm moving in my insect collecting supplies, but he doesn't notice all the other insect collecting supplies.  All he notices is the metal jug with a big red skull and crossbones and "POISON" written on it.  And he starts wondering if Mike Myers will play him in a new "So I Married A _____ Murderer" movie about us.  Except he looks nothing like Mike Myers.  Oh and for people who don't collect bugs, ethyl acetate is a very effective solution to put in a kill jar to quickly dispatch of the little creatures with the least amount of torture and self-mutilation.  And it comes in metal jugs with "POISON" written next to skull-and-crossbones.  Which causes concern in new husbands if they don't notice the rest of the insect collecting supplies.  Or possibly even if they do notice the rest.  Ever heard of an alibi?  Seriously, I'm totally going to prison if he ever mysteriously dies.  But I swear I didn't do it.  You know, in the future.  


One last thing, then I'm off to the nursery (flower, not baby) so we can do some landscaping.  The title of this post... it's from the song "Sugarhigh" by Coyote Shivers.  Google that shit, seriously funny lyrics.  I refrained from titling the post "when I lick between your thighs" because I thought that was a little too off-topic.  Especially since no one offered to lick the melty goodness off me this morning.  Sugar is fun.  And I love the movie Empire Records.  But I might be one of only about 5 people on all of Earth that do.  It's about as random as I am today.