"Why on earth would you want to do that?"

"Remember? I'm having the blog chicks over for pasta tomorrow night."

"Isn't it a bit cold on the balcony?" he asks.

"Aha!" I had him, there. "I told them to bring their coats, in case they wanted to smoke after dinner."

"How many of the blog chicks smoke cigars, Dear?"

"Well, let's see." I closed my eyes. "I smoke. And Justene smokes. And sometimes Justene's husband. So that makes three of us. Neither Caltech Girl nor her husband are into cigars."

"And how many smokes are in your humidor right now?" There's a smile playing around the edge of his lips.

"Well, there are nineteen full-size ones, and then five of those little minis—the Partagas from Cuba."

He steps on the brakes as we near the Chrysler service shop. "That might be enough, you know."

"Ah, but we might be able to talk Baldilocks into having one."

"Which could bring you down to only fifteen. I see."

"Wait, wait!" I burst out, and for a second A the H veers to the side of the road, thinking he's about to miss the driveway to the service department.

"What the hell?" he asks. He spots the driveway and makes the turn.

"Sometimes one of Justene's teenagers will have a drag on one of the cigars, or a sip of red wine from one of our glasses."

"Okay." He's gritting his teeth, now. "Let's say the two girls get completely carried away, and you're left with a baker's dozen."

"Would you pull over here, Honey?" I ask him, sweetly. "I've got to scoot. More cigars, and—more wine. Thanks for reminding me about the twins. See you at home!"

If I had to live with me I think I'd poison myself. But that onerous task falls to someone else. I mean, the living with, rather than the poisoning. So far.

Say Goodnight, Joy.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 08:01 PM | Comments (5) | Add Comment
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1 Enjoy those cigars! I've moved inside the garage to smoke now as it has gotten a bit cold. A wireless connection, some good rum, a good cigar and it is all I need for my little blogging haven.

Posted by: Cigar Jack at November 30, 2007 09:44 PM (BW9Zv)

2 Reminds me of the time, about twenty years ago, when two guys in my shop became fathers in quick succession. This was before smoking was banned indoors through the military (I was in the AF), so we were lighting up the stogies in the shop, although Captain Callamaras told me that the cigar was not to pass through the doorway into area of the building where his office and admin section was. The brand we got included some King Edwards and the kind with the pink wrapper that say "It's a Girl" on them, which are probably the very worst cigars of all. The shop stunk for weeks after that.

Posted by: John at December 01, 2007 01:49 PM (3F9tM)

3 Goodnight, Joy

Posted by: Darrell at December 02, 2007 02:32 PM (eEcre)

4 Cute, D. I managed to air the dining room out pretty well last night. I usually have to wash whatever I'm wearing afterward, though.

Posted by: Attila Girl at December 02, 2007 04:43 PM (aywD+)

5 I couldn't take it anymore--can't people do what they're told? Cigars do have a way of keeping the memories stale. I'd suggest a patio heater, but I'm not that brave. People that lived by the stock yards never seemed to mind. Or notice. Febreze will help with all those other absorbent/adsorbent surfaces if you don't care to get used to it, though.

Posted by: Darrell at December 02, 2007 07:52 PM (xX5JM)

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"Bookkeeping in general, is not out to get you. And neither is arithmetic in particular."

What do you know? Have you felt the mind rays emanating from the QuickBooks program? The palpable malice with which the calculator bombards me?

Note to self: resume wearing tinfoil hats to work.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 09:08 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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. . . the problem of Mandy taking up 70% of the loveseat, leaving very little room for me. I swung my feet and legs above her body, resting the right foot on the farther arm of the tiny couch.

The left knee is propping up my mom's laptop, and Mandy has her nose resting on my right knee.

Time for another sleeping pill. It turns out they work better if you take them with other pills (I picked a few at random), and wash the whole chemical salad down with some beer.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 03:35 AM | Comments (5) | Add Comment
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my father tells me. "Given your genetic heritage, and the fact that you're prone to depression, it's just amazing that you aren't overweight."

"I'm not sure it's to my credit," I tell him.

"But look at your relatives!"

"I've seen them," I respond. "But when I get depressed, the last thing I want to do is eat."

I was hearing this crap from my stepfather when I was 15 years old. As if there were some fat monster out there, just waiting to pounce on me.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 10:28 AM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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