The Universe, Hot Dog Vomit, and Curling Matted Chest Hair

The Universe is conspiring against me. Nothing is going my way this week. The Universe is saying, "Elise, you might as well stay on your couch and watch movies on Netflix whilst stuffing your face with chocolate zucchini cake."

I think The Universe is right. (And how did The Universe know that I have a chocolate zucchini cake on top of my fridge? Weird.)

I've had a bad week and today was the crap frosting on the poop cake of my week. This afternoon I found myself scraping congealed food chunks from the bottom of DJ's car seat with a butter knife. This was necessary in order to clean off the hot dog vomit. I immediately sent a blistering text message to my husband: "I do not get paid enough. I demand a raise." He has yet to respond.

He never takes me seriously.

But I'm serious this time.

One or two good things did happen this week, despite my cantankerous attitude:DJ's major award came in the mail. He dragged it into the house and plopped it right down on the carpet saying, "Fra-GEE-lay! That must be Italian!" DJ is now the proud owner of a completely ridiculous motorized longboard, even though he is an adult.

Another good thing that happened was that my sister Lisa gave me a copy of Return to Red Castle, by Dorothy Keddington, which I haven't read since I was like thirteen. I reread it this week; it was a glorious reunion. The main character's love interest, Jesse, is described thusly:

"Long legs were encased in dark leather breeches with fringe hanging down the outside seams, and a hunting knife dangling from his wide belt. A fawn-colored shirt was rolled up over muscular forearms to the elbow, and open at the throat where a rawhide necklace strung with bear claws circled his neck. He wore a full beard and mustache and thick brown hair brushed against his shirt collar..."

Sexy, right? Wait, there's more:

"I was afraid to meet the clear, penetrating blue of his eyes. My gaze slid down to his throat where the bear claw necklace rested against a curling mat of dark brown hair..."

{{{shudder}}}

He also lives in a tipi. Dream about that tonight, ladies. I'm off to buy a bear claw necklace for DJ to wear atop his mat of curling chest hair.