And Apryl Finally Just Updates In Melanie’s Stead Since It Obviously Wasn’t Happening Any Other Way….

WELL,

A lot has happened since the tall one last posted. For starters, as any devout Facebooker would know, we have jointly acquired a puppy to whom we have assigned the moniker “Lump,” short for Little Ukrainian Mutt Puppy. Lump has seen some hard times, which means primarily that we can do no wrong in her eyes for she has seen far worse. It’s the best way to do things -set the bar low at the outset.  Lump is currently devouring a baked potato and a scrambled egg from a tupperware bowl that simply MUST be constantly moved from one spot to the next across the kitchen to be eaten properly. It would be the essence of bad manners to give thought to the spilled portions upon the floor. The art of eating while moving has been masterfully accomplished by our pup at tender age of 9ish weeks old. Aw.

In other news, there have been no homicides. Yet. All seems to be well. A little too well perhaps? Probably not.

There are many stressful things afoot with which we have continuously been dealing (rather than blogging.) Yet somehow we did manage to explore the labyrinthian expanses of the fabled Bass Pro Shop. And Oh Hot Damn. After at least an hour of giddy aisle-wandering we emerged with two pistol bb guns, a sticky target, several hundred extra bb’s, and a hoot owl call. And oh, how our lives have been completely changed! After our purchases at BPS, we subsequently began inviting over several old friends of mine to feed them a hearty meal and challenge them to gun down cans, wasps, and porch roaches. And let me assure you, Mellie Oakley is a force with a bb gun. The reproductive capacity of creepy things being what it is, though, we have plenty of work left to do before my tenancy officially ends at my current residence.

And speaking of residences, we officially have one in San Diego! We have definitely shaved a sizable (why is this the correct spelling of this word? It looks weird and I dislike it) chunk from the upper left side of the stick of stress-butter we have before us. We have merely a number between 8 and 137 highly stressful things left to do before we arrive comfortably in San Diego and I am sipping a mixed drink at La Jolla made just for me by my incredibly well-trained puppy as we both enjoy the crashing of the waves against the seal carcasses lounging upon the rocks therein.

Oh, I turned in my two weeks notice yesterday, and I feel like a bad ass and can’t stop smiling. And then Melanie and I jointly cut my hair in the customary way.

Oh and one last thing- in case anyone ever had the slightest urge to play the word “clit” in Bananagrams, it apparently doesn’t count so don’t bother. It could actually keep you from beating an undefeated champ.

Hopefully we will write again soon.

-Apryl