In Blog

*sigh*

Well, our boy Clay didn’t win. So sad.

I really had a feeling he was going to: a gut sense, if you will. But I was wrong. And yes, I DID end up watching the entire show, even as I swore I would not. My favorite part was when they cut to the RBC center in Raleigh and there’s this guy from one of our local news stations, making weird faces while thousands of Clay-maniacs shrieked in the background. It was bizarre, wasn’t it? Or maybe that was just me. It was raining sheets last night, really dreary, but eight-thousand plus people showed up to an arena to watch en masse, instead of staying on their couch at home, like I did. But that’s devotion, I guess.

It’s not like Clay isn’t going to be just fine, anyway. When they cut to Justin Guarini sitting in the audience I thought, well, that’s the first person you should talk to, the first Number Two. He’s not doing so badly. I mean, at least we all still know his name. But what about the Justin-Kelly movie? Now, I’m not one to judge and all, but it sounds SCARY to me. Truly. I guess we’ll see.

Yesterday, my wonderful mother bought me the new Sex and the City DVD as an early birthday present. Hooray! I am trying to decide whether to watch them in order, or just jump around to the ones I liked best. I couldn’t resist last night, during the commercials of Idol, finding the part in the last episode of the season when Big tells Carrie he’s leaving NYC for California wine country because he’s tired. And she says, “If you’re tired, you take a nap-a. You don’t go to Napa!”

*smile*

It’s really sad how TV can make me so happy. Really.

In other news of happy things, it looks like the Barnes and Noble site is now selling the How to Deal paperback…if you’re interested, check it out here. It just kills me to go to these sites and it says Same Day Delivery in Manhattan. Can you even imagine? That was one of my favorite thrills about going to visit David and Bianca when they still lived there, that you could have, like, ANYTHING delivered to your house just by picking up the phone. Anything! Chinese food at three a.m.? Done. Krispy Kremes? Done. So insane. I live so far out in the country, I can’t even get a pizza brought out here. And some nights, let me tell you, I would die to be able to have food just appear on my doorstep (without having to send my husband out for it, that is). Sigh. Such is country living.

Speaking of Country Living, I’m starting to worry about the goats. Let me explain.

On the way out to my house, there’s this family that lives right next to the road. And a few months back—way back, I think—they bought some baby goats, and built them an enclosure. Since then we’ve always looked for them as we drive by—it’s a long drive, you have to entertain yourself somehow—and the goats were always growing up, moving around, sometimes head-butting each other, other times jumping off the roof of their little enclosure. (Very cute, really.) Now, I had some concerns that these goats might actually be being raised for, um, food, a hunch that was borne out when my husband found out that he knows someone who knows someone who lives in that house. Turns out the goats WERE bought to eventually be slaughtered, but now people have gotten somewhat attached and they’re not quite sure what will happen. Which means that every time I drive by I search for them, and if I don’t see them, I get nervous and upset. I mean, I know they belong to these people, and they can do what they want, but it’s just a little unnerving considering I’m a bit attached after all these months.

(I cannot believe I am writing about this. Even worse, I can’t believe I’ve written so MUCH. I really need a hobby.)

The point is, yesterday, I didn’t see the goats at all. Of course, it was raining, so it’s possible they were just in their little shelter. But I wonder. It’s become habit to check on them, a sort of Goatwatch 2003. If I go by some day and something’s out on a spit, cooking, I think I’m going to freak. Really. Again, though: country living. You can’t get a pizza, or Chinese food at 3 am, but goat stress: that, we have.

(Everyone who was so nice to write in yesterday and let me know who you are…you’re sorry, now, aren’t you, now that you’ve slogged through this entry? I hope not, anyway.)

have a good day everyone!