Well, it has been a year since I moved in with SP, but I've still got several aprons to go before I'm a fully qualified Desperate Housewife.
You see, housewifery is akin to martial arts. In fact, it predates them. Ever since the first caveman clubbed a female over the head, dragged her back to his cave and said: "Ug" (translation: Clean this place up, Woman, it's a sabretoothed pigsty. And have my dinner ready when I get home, too. I'm going out to wrestle a wooly mammoth), in fact.
There are aprons for several important housewife duties, such as: shopping, table-laying, afternoon drinking and passive-aggressive manipulation amongst others. I'm currently up to a pink apron in table-laying and pastel blue in afternoon drinking! Once I've achieved ivory aprons in any two duties, I will be expected to train a Houseboy. Being the foreward thinking and prepared housewife that I am, I've already got my eye on a couple I'd be willing to take under my apron!
However, unlike martial arts such as judo, in housewifery, the top apron colour to aspire to is white. You see, a white apron shows that the housewife can do every duty expected of her/him whilst keeping the apron spotless and pristine.
Of course, there are those who go too far and covet the exclusive perfection of qualifying as a Stepford Wife. Not for me the full frontal lobotomy and range of tasteful cybernetics that goes with being one of those!
I know I’ve been away for nearly a couple of weeks, but I do have a good reason: I've been in shock, then despair and then, finally, mourning. Why? Because I found out that Tim didn’t put up that Valentine post. I found out that one of the SubCs did it. The Host's, if I'm not very much mistaken. I’m still not sure that I’m totally over the trauma of finding out that Tim doesn't actually love me, but I thought it’s about time I pulled myselves together and came back to show my face.
So, now I'm here I'd better fill you in as to what's been happening in the world of IDV:
Somehow, Indescribable has gone and got herself engaged. And not to some hideous bog monster or disgusting denizen of the deep like herself, but to an actual human being. Albeit one who thinks that this is a stylish car:
Pah! Why settle for the Ford 'duller-than-the-dingiest-doldrums dull' Focus when you can have exquisitely styled fashionable thrills in this, the Alfa Romeo Giulietta:
Anyway, Indescribable's engagement has given SP ideas. I keep getting reminded about marriage. Now, I'm in no hurry to shackle myself to SP for the rest of our unlives - especially as being somewhat undead (what with him being an incubus and me slightly vampiric) the rest of our unlives could be a very long time indeed. Although, I do love him so the idea is not entirely out of the question. No. What bothers me a little is that I never really believed in marriage, plus - and this is a big plus - he wants me to ask him! And I'm the 'woman' in our relationship, as he keeps telling me, so he should ask me!! I'm all for equal rights, but not when they're ladled out to suit him. Oh, no.
Plus, I’ve been totally stressed out about a now cancelled move. To cut a long story short, in a moment of intermaweb surfing boredom SP saw the house of his dreams: A 4 bed, double garaged, double fronted, detached house - And a new-build to boot! It would mean, he said trying to convince me, that we could just move in and not have to worry about spending money on doing anything to it. Things that need to be done in our current home like replacing the boiler and radiators, knocking the w.c. & bathroom into one room, building a downstairs w.c., replacing the back door, redirecting the drains, replacing the guttering, creating more storage space, reshingling the driveway, and the list goes on.
Eventually, I caved in and said that if we could afford it, we could move. However, I knew full well that we couldn't afford it and I thought he would soon come to the same conclusion, too. That was not to be the case, though. It took two weeks of me explaining, pointing out, nagging and finally arguing that we couldn't afford to move. It was a very fraught and turbulent two weeks, I can tell you. And to top it off, I also discovered that there weren't any Ley lines anywhere near the new house which would make arial navigation a bit more haphazard.
Anyway, we're no longer moving - Well, not any time soon - So now all I've got to put up with is SP going on about how he hates our home and that as we can't afford to get everything done instantly, he's going to be like this for ages. Great.
And to top it all off, Svaathor da Vjis and his centaur cronies popped by unannounced the other day. They inadvertantly trampled the driveway into a muddy, stony mess because I wouldn't let them in as I'd only just cleaned up the filthy, muddy paw prints that Moom had created after her walk! So SP and I have been sorting out the aftermath. We've dug over half the drive and are going to have turf over that half, then we'll have to sort out the drainage before putting some fresh gravel or shingle down.
And that, amongst other more minor matters, is why I haven't been around lately.
So, now that I'm back, I'd better see what you've all been up to...
On my blog travels this morning, I found THIS:
Luckily, I managed to capture it before Tim had a change of heart, as I notice it's no longer published on his blog. He must have been ashamed of the crappy graphics...
Still, he loves me!
Oops! I forgot to delete the last couple of lines of his post.
Bugger.
Honestly, I'm surprised people didn't run screaming for the hills when I went out earlier. My hair was a greasy mess, as was my skin; what I thought was an acceptable amount of stubble in fact looked like I was auditioning for Robinson Crusoe; and the clothes I was wearing looked as if they'd been pulled out of the washing bin. I must have been ghastlier than a thousand ghouls!
Long time readers may have guessed the reason for this lapse in standards (if they're not out-and-out rude, that is): Yes. It was all down to MirrorMe again.
The dratted reflection had once again got up before me and pampered & preened until he looked fantastic, then beat me to the mirror so I thought it was me I was looking at, not 'Me. You can imagine my horror when I got home and saw my reflection in the hall mirror. I'm surprised it didn't shatter at the piercing scream I gave! The fact that I saw my actual reflection and not MirrorMe means he must still be out somewhere. Well, I've got a surprise for him when he comes home: I'm going to trap him between two mirrors so he can never go out again!
Mwah hah hah hah haa!
