Of refrigerators and boxes and that stupid dress again

So... I miss the baby. Yeah. I brought my grandma pictures yesterday and we babytalked and doted over all of them, even the one where his head is drooping over his shoulder Pope-style and there's spitup on the bedspread. Sigh.

Anyway, there has been a host of Wild Goings On happening in these parts, first and foremost being that we picked out a refrigerator. I know. We picked! A refrigerator! Several appliance salesmen/relationship counselors helped us navigate our way through the fridge jungle (top or bottom freezer? Bin drawer or open on the side? Filtered icemaker or water dispenser? Temperature and humidity controls!) and deciding to buy it through Phillip's builder client drastically narrowed the choices to one hideously expensive machine. (Buying through the builder knocked over $500 off the price, that's how hideous.) We'll have it delivered at the end of next week because early next week? Like, Monday? WE GET THE KEYS. KEYS!

Then yesterday (after dropping off Phillip's mom from our Mother's Day Movie Outing- saw The Interpreter, did not follow it at all, could not believe Nicole Kidman to be *SPOILER ALERT!* a rifle-wielding African badass even in an alternate universe, horrified at absolute waste of fantastically snarky Catherine Keener, totally loved it anyway) we loaded up the car with boxes Phillip has lovingly taken care of since his college days. He has a still-sturdy box for every piece of shiny black electronic equipment in our apartment, complete with styrofoam inserts and cardboard dividers. We stacked them in the living room- an impending sign of the moving madness that has not quite arrived. But it will. Oh yes. The crazy will soon infiltrate...

And then today I received my bridesmaid dress- the right bridesmaid dress- and stealthily tried on the top in the ladies' room downstairs.  I zipped it up and it promptly fell off my shoulders. Now, I wish I could say this was due to the cruel and sadistic exercise regimen I've stuck to since January, but it is not so. For one thing, the exercise regimen has been a bit more soft and cuddly of late and for another, when you are ordering a dress based on one measurement in particular, it is almost guaranteed that the rest of the dress is going to have some issues. So, yeah. Does anyone know anyone who can work me some alteration magic? Or should I just take it to the nice drycleaner lady down the street? (The drycleaner lady totally loves me and might give me a good deal, not just because I bring her big bags of shirts a particular someone is too tired to iron every week, but because we have the same last name. And she is Korean and I am definitely not and this fact amuses her to no end.) But seriously, the straps are wider than my actual shoulders. Either someone needs to pretty much whip me out a brand new dress or I flash the congregation as we're walking solemnly down the aisle. Wouldn't that be something.

So, okay, these things aren't particularly wild, I admit it. But I was told to not even think about putting what might be wild on my personal website, so you'll just have to sit tight, friends in the computer. Oooh, aren't you sitting on heaps of pins and needles NOW!

And oh, special shoutout to all of you finding my website in your quest to find out who the hell launched the ridiculous yet catchy chipmunk song into American consciousness. Hi! It's some dude named Akon! don't get it either! (Also, have you noticed that the chipmunk sings "Loooonely, I'm STILL lonely" and not "I'm SO lonely"? Does that indicate to you (as it does to me) that this is an actual real honest-to-goodness song itself and Akon just settled because there was a definite dearth of content-appropriate samples sung by chipmunks? Because, if you listen to the words (as I have, many times) the word "still" is a sorry substitution for "so" as it implies that Akon has sung this song before? Hmm. Yeah, I honestly don't have this much time on my hands, really, but there are only so many productive things you can do during your afternoon commute...)