Done and... done. Time to relax!

cowgirl
Originally uploaded by JoBiv!.

Lemme just grab my hat...
Good news, people! No more JoBiv whine-a-thons about planes! I finished That Damn Project! Hooo boy, I hope I get PAID for it!

In other news, Miss Sarah scored a job! Well done, dear! You beat me. :/

In other, other news, my Dad is stalking me. He's cute, in his way, but the stalking thing has got to stop. My parents, having no jobs (runs in the family) and vivid imaginations (hmm... perhaps this, too), imagine the Grisly Death of Jo Mary whenever they call and I don't call back right away. And I mean within ten minutes. Suddenly there's another message on my machine, all quavery-voiced and pitiful: "Jo Mary, please give us a call, honey, and let us know how you're doin'. We haven't heard from you in a while..."

Nice that they're concerned, yes. But, I'm a busy girl who hates the phone. Why WOULD I call immediately? By the third message I get a little frantic, but then my Dad resorts to email. The following subject line greeted me today. HAhem: "CALL HOME PLEASE!!!! I don't hear from you returning my calls, I cry."

No message. Just the subject line.

From this message we (and by we I am including the police whom I may invite to take a look at this stalking problem) can assume a few things.

1. English is my father's second language and he never told me.

2. The affection for CAPS FOR EMPHASIS runs in the family as well.

3. The man needs uppers.

You may be relieved to hear that I did call my parents today. Aunt Mary is visiting, with her grandson, Quinn. They're both freaks, but that's another story for another day. So my Mom answers, cheerily considering the Mary/Quinn invasion, and we chat for a while. Then she decides to switch phones so she can talk and smoke on the porch at the same time. Classy. She asks my Dad to hang up the phone once she's out on the porch (yeah, you'd think she'd use a cordless, but we really do have an old-fashioned cord phone on the porch, just in case any random strangers want to make 1-900 calls on our bill), and my Dad says, "who is it?"

Mom: It's your daughter!

Dad: Oh cool, tell her I said 'hi'.

CAN YOU BELIEVE IT??? Mr. You Make-a Me Cry-a says "hi." What an ass. I'm never calling home again. Which, by the way, is the only way to deal with a stalker.

WARNING: don't click on today's subject line unless you know my sense of humor and political leanings. Howdeee neighbor!