Almost one full year of blog silence; how can you come back from that?
You can't.
Goodbye.
Well... maybe you can, let's see:
Hello, Blog.
Sorry it's been so long. I forgot my password so I kept trying to guess what it was, but I think I entered the wrong one too many times. It kept asking me some secret question like, "What was the name of the city you grew up in?" and "What is your mother's maiden name" and I was like how the crap am I supposed to know?!
Man!
I was pretty mad and really wanted to get into my account because I still hadn't blogged about Oliver's birth and how I delivered him with an epidural that was only effective on my left side, which is generally pretty numb to begin with so it didn't really count. I'm right handed so I feel pain like double the intensity on my right side than I do on my left, so my labor felt EXACTLY the same as giving birth naturally. It's true, a real doctor told me. Well... he wasn't like a medical doctor or anything, more like a rug doctor that cleaned our carpets when we moved, but same thing.
Anyway, I wanted to blog about it so I says to Zi, I says, "Hey Buddy, do you know what a mother's maiden name is, like what does that even mean?" He didn't answer so I yelled way loud, "HEY BUDDY, DO YOU KNOW WHAT A MOTHERS MAIDEN NAME IS, LIKE WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?!" He still didn't answer, and when people don't answer me I get furious, so I scream, "FINE, WE'RE IN A FIGHT NOW!" So I was going to go upstairs and cut my bangs because Zi HATES how I look with bangs. Whenever we're in a fight I cut them just to make him mad. You can always tell how our marriage is doing by looking at my hair.
Where was I?
Right, screamed at Zi and headed upstairs to cut my hair when suddenly- WHOA! What the? This was NOT my house... I was at Ikea... alone. Not like alone-alone, there were other people there of course but I didn't know any of their names. I mean alone as in just me without any of my relatives. Then this lady wearing an Ikea shirt came up to me and was all, "That's totally cool to scream and shout like that inside of this Ikea store because we want you to feel all welcome and at home and stuff, but you totally need to get out of that crib."
And I was all, "Crib. Out. Gotcha."
So I get out of the crib and go home and just, ya know, live for a few months in our new house, which kinda looks a bit like an Ikea model, so you can't blame me.
Then i remember that I never blogged about the fire. Uh-huh! We were involved in a house fire. Not at the house we're in now, but our old townhouse. The fire was in the unit next to ours and was kind of an experience. Nobody was hurt but it was still pretty scary. The police officer banged on our door and told us to get out FAST!
People always say the one thing they'd grab if their house was on fire would be their photo albums.
I say those people are IDIOTS! Grab your KIDS, dummies! Thats whut smarrt peopel like me do. Everything turned out fine and we suffered only a little smoke damage. Actually the worst part about the fire was when the bishop came over later that evening to check on us and caught us watching The Simpsons.
Yikes!
I begged him to please not tell my mom because I'm not allowed to watch that show.
Then I thought, OH YEAH, MOM!!! I'll ask my mom what city I grew up in, she probably knows.
So I call her up on the telephone and I say to her, "Hey Buddy, my computer wants to know where I growed up at so do you know or what?"
And she's all, "Who is this" and I'm all, "Its Mary, remember me? I used to live in that house with you and you were always telling me to clean the bathroom but I never did because nobody tells me what to do!"
And she was like "Mary? Were you the one that was always covered in ringworm?"
And I'm like, "Ewwwww gross... yes, that was me."
Then she got all mad and said, "Well, Mary, your bishop called, he told me you were watching 'The Simpsons' so you best get to your room, you're grounded!"
And I'm like, "Yeah right whatever, you're not the boss of me!"
And she's all, "I'm telling your father!"
And I'm like, "NEWSFLASH, MOM! I've been watching The Simpsons for years and you were right, it does teach kids to disrespect their fathers, so go ahead and tell Dad, see if I care!"
So then she gets my dad and he's all, "Mary."
And I'm all, "WHAT!"
"Go to your room."
"FINE!!!!!!!!!"
So I run to my room and cry on my bed.
Then I hear the bishop say, "Uhhhhh.... I gotta go. I uhhh... left the oven on probably."
So I'm stuck in my room with nothing to do and still don't know my password. Then I think maybe google knows. So I google "what's my password" and it gives me a list of popular passwords. And you know what? It worked! I guess I'm a pretty popular person because my password was number one on the list!
