[I'm sorry, but I like this font so much better.]
The whole reason I started this blog was so I could document incidents like the following.
When we got back from Christmas in the Pacific Northwest, where I understandably took a ten-day vacation from shaving my legs, Ben complained in typical heterosexual male fashion: "You're like Snoopy's cousin who lives in the desert!"
His name is Spike, Ben, and I think you conflated him with the cactus in your memory.
FINALLY! I have been in a pit of self-loathing about all the things I haven't been doing: mopping, flossing, adhering to the Ultra-Prevention diet I wouldn't shut up about all through December, and, of course, writing about random, banal crap here. It turned into a vicious cycle, wherein I was so irritated at myself about not having done X, Y or Z, it was painful to think about starting to do it again. My gums and the kitchen floor are in a disgusting state.
But the upside is: I now have a three-month backlog of "tidbits" and derivative observations just waiting to be put into the self-consciously jauntily-written word! Things like:
* Ben changed my screensaver to a photo of a giant eight-legged you-know-what that I discovered when I shut down my computer right before bed, causing an entire night of screaming nightmares!
* I spent $100 on dinner the other night with the intention of writing a restaurant review and being reimbursed, but have yet to write a single word! How me!
* I resolved to break with my addiction to celebrity gossip, until I discovered the treasure trove of videos on TMZ that allow me to feel smug and highly intelligent compared to the people I otherwise envy and begrudge their disgusting wealth! (If you haven't already, check out the one of Paris Hilton running out of gas in the middle of an intersection, and Cindy Crawford giving her husband a lap dance.)
* Don't you just hate those giant sunglasses all the young girls are wearing? They look like, I don't know--ooh, like big old bug eyes! Yeccch!
As soon as I remember the rest, I'll type 'em up. But trust me, they're cutting edge.
His name is Spike, Ben, and I think you conflated him with the cactus in your memory.