Peel OUT!

Sorry I have been such a lame-o posting anything lately...but I haven't had the time to sit still very much...
and now that is it nearly 100 degrees by 10am, I am forced to take my early morning walk actually quite early in the morning. This, unfortunately, cuts directly into my blogging time.

I have walked 2.7 miles 16 out of the past 17 days, however.
Apparently, less blogging = less booty....
well, in my world, at least.

So after my walk today, I spent some time surfing around on Craig's List....a very funny site that my Mark's step-brother, Bret, recently hipped me to. Some of the entries are very good and found this little article laugh out loud funny. I don't know who wrote it, but I had tears in my eyes reading it.

Partially, I was laughing because it reminded me of a particular time I peeled out during a fight with Mark.

It seems we couldn't agree on some certain details* of our yearly homemade Christmas/Holiday card and got in a huge yelling match at the local Kinko's. I walked out of the store steaming mad...he followed me and got in the car. Silently, we fumed at each other until we got 10 blocks down the street in front of our house. I stopped the car and said, "Get out."
Mark stepped out of the car onto the sidewalk and I proceeded to peel out with some mad vengeance. Well, that is, as much mad vengence as my 1978 Volvo wagon could muster.
So, with my tires squealing and my teeth grinding, I laid rubber like a true be-otch while simultaneously catching a glimpse of Mark in my rearview mirror as I sped down Bayly Avenue.

Uh-oh.
Oh boy.

It was at this point that things took a turn for the worse.
Thanks to my award-deserving dramatica, there would be a slightly larger problem to deal with once I got home.

The vision in the rear-view mirror?
Um, that would be Mark,
and our lovely hand-made holiday card project.........
absolutely covered from head to toe
in wet, stinky, curb mud from the side of the road.

You see, my bald spinning tires added a doubly insulting touch to my display
by flinging a big ol' bunch of mud right up on the poor guy.

Yes.
Head to toe.
Like a cartoon.
Like a cartoon Dalmation.
Like a really tall and pissed off cartoon Dalmation.
Did I mention that the Dalmation was still in his nice work clothes?

Well, needless to say, it wasn't pretty when I returned home about 15 minutes later.
It also didn't help matters much that I had
become quite amused as to how our project had so quickly spun out of control.

Amused that we got so bent out of shape of the artistic direction of our greeting cards.
Amused by the faces of Kinko's customers that got to hear our bickering about *me making myself too large, er, TALL, on the card and not to scale with the rest of the family
( Family meaning Mark and 2 cats and Lilly Dog.)
and some psychobabble about my inflated self-importance and blah, blah, blah...
(Mark was still an Art Therapist back then).

I was giggling uncontrollably by the time I got home.
I knew I was in BIG trouble, but I couldn't help it.

Luckliy, Mark and I are quick to kiss and make up...
He was only mad at me for about 2 hours and the mud caused no permanent damage to either his clothing or his ego.

And the cards, you ask?
Funny, I can't even remember if we ever finished them.