Dancing Without Rhythm

If I wasn't as experienced at continence as I am, there would have been an awful scene when I opened the Fed Ex box.

Did you read this post?

Oh yes, I was in rough shape.

Well, there were a lot of responses and a lot of "hang in there" "I'd help if I wasn't an internet friend that lives 1000 miles away and probably wouldn't know you from Adam" which really just made my heart smile. It's nice to get support like that.

But, I have to say, and proudly, I feel confident I will be able to one-up just about any person when it comes to a "I have a friend who once" conversations.

Not one. Not two. Not even 5. SIX. SIX I TELL YOU.

Six of the most beautiful pints of Ben and Jerry's Phish Food EVER packaged in the western hemisphere.

I can't even tell you the utter surprise and sheer delight that overcame me and has not yet lifted. I walked around the rest of the afternoon, anyone within earshot heard things like, "Dude, I got ICE CREAM in the mail today. ICE CREAM! IN THE MAIL! Do you hear me? Next thing you know they'll have time travel and floating cars....ICE CREAM IN THE MAIL!"
Probably the best part to watch about this event (you know, on our video footage in heaven after we die) will be the opening of this package. I wasn't home when it arrived so it was left at the management office for me. I went to get it and saw a return address of Ben and Jerry's. After the manager handed it to me, I saw the return label, did a double take and then exclaimed loudly, "SHUT! UP!" Ms. Manager who was walking away, stopped abruptly. I showed her the return address, as I was in shock and needed it verified. We both started saying things like, "No, surely not---perhaps they have a line of cookies, no, it's not possible, well, let's look!" She scrambled for some scissors and I opened it. We both literally jumped back in shock. I've never seen six pints of ice cream in a box before. Never.

Then Ms. Manager asks me why someone is mailing me six pints of ice cream. The ensuing explanation---wacky-macky-smokin'-cracky.

"So I blog? You know about blogs? So I have this blog and my kids have the chicken pox and my husband travels and I got escorted out the back alley of the drs office and I had a friend coming in from out of town and I self-medicate with ice cream and my husband's hotel doesn't always answer their phone and I just moved here at the beginning of the year and all my friends live far away and I blogged and I was quarantined and I wished Wal-mart delivered ice cream and the chicken pox are making me get fat again and my son still hasn't broken out with pox yet and my husband travels and I love ice cream and....

I wasn't making sense to myself, but I couldn't stop because I had six pints of ice cream in a box in front of me. And then Ms. Manager screws up her face and says, "So, you blog about chicken pox and ice cream and someone from the internet sent you ice cream?"

But oh no---it wasn't a 53 year old man who "works from home" and poses as a witty 30 something SAHM that sent me ice cream.

It was my friend. And she's f'real guys.

Posted by Angela on Wednesday, September 20, 2006 at 9/20/2006 | Permalink