I feel chatty, so I will recount the various goings on at the House of X. Get ready, it's pretty boring. I recommend having a pillow nearby in case you suddenly fall into a catatonic state from the sheer excitement.
I got an email last night from the Matchmaker at the Golden rescue organization which was worthy of a whoop until I read that they somehow had it in their heads that we had indicated we could not adopt a dog until July 28th. Um, nooooo. I sent a very nice email back essentially saying that wasn't us and could you please put us on the regular adoption track ASAP? They also sent some information on introducing dogs to cats. That should be an entertaining read. Although, I doubt they espouse Mr. X's idea of putting them all together in a steel cage match where only the winner emerges victoriously. Yes, he was kidding.
My parents are climbing the Swiss Alps. They called me yesterday to complain about a) how tired they were, b) how sore they were, c) how freakin' tired they were and d) how they didn't think they could do four more days of torture. I was a little incredulous since they had signed up voluntarily and I asked my dad if he really was secretly expecting an escalator, to which he feebly responded, "well, yeah." Oy. They both kept mentioning how many rocks there were. Well, duh!
I went to Bunco last night and thankfully, did not come home with
Pinkey. In fact, I came home with $8 and had two ice cold Dos Equis to boot. Not a bad haul for a night spent throwing around little plastic dice and dishing about the neighborhood gossip.
Speaking of neighborhood gossip, I don't know how much longer I can handle being on the Board of Directors of our little home owners association. Our neighborhood is being torn asunder and divided into two camps: those who want speed bumps and those who do not. Oh, the horror! Seriously, people, we spent at least an hour debating this issue at the general meeting last year. Snore. Obviously, we live in an affluent community because the topic of greatest concern is whether to stick asphalt bumps on the road in an (ineffective) effort to control traffic speeds.
I have been listening to iTunes radio today - switching between the R 'n B channels and classical. Yes, I have very eclectic taste. It reminds me of the Old School station I listened to in the town where we lived. I loved that station and our current city has squat. So, iTunes it is for my fix. I also have access to XM Radio online, but their R n' B stations just aren't cutting it for me. Now, their alternative stations - that's another story entirely.
Our latest Netflix arrived in the mail. We've been Netflix subscribers since 2005 and we love it. Netflix was the only way in which I was able to watch all three seasons of
Grey's Anatomy in one summer just in time to catch up to the fourth season - and just in time for the writers' strike! Recently, we watched the first season of the
Tudors and both agreed that while it was extremely entertaining,
Jonathan Rhys-Meyers was no Henry VIII. The chicken legs are the first dead giveaway as is the whisp of an Irish accent and don't even get me started on the lack of red hair! But,
Sam Neill was fabulous. We are also making our way through the
Sharpe's series starring - wait for it - Sean Bean! Mr. X and I have been having a grand time watching these gems of 90s production values and bodice-ripping. And, of course, my weekly Sean Bean dose, fully endorsed and encouraged by Mr. X.
That's all the news that's fit to print for now. Scintillating as always.