My Cup Spilleth Over
Things I have spilt in the last 72 hours.
1 x cup of tea on pile of freshly laundered towels
1/2 glass red wine on a blue dress.
1 large bowl of pennies, old keys and miscellaneous objets d’arse on the loud clangy floor.
1 jar of spaghetti sauce on garage floor when bottom gave out on crappy safeway plastic bag.
Unknown quantity of blood (possibly dangerous ammounts) by cutting finger on glass from smashed spaghetti jar.
But that’s fine. I can deal with spills and mopping up. What I mind with my whole head and bulging veins, is the Problem Husband telling people that I upset my teacup or my wine glass or anything else. No, I didn’t, soldier!!!! They bloody well upset me! Bloody holding vessels failing to do their holding jobs! No wonder the economy’s turning to shit. When you can’t even rely on your teacup it might be a sign that it’s time to sell up the homestead and move to the greenwood with a gun and your old Girl Guide survival handbook, wait the bally recession out until cups feel secure enough in their futures again to perform their tasks. I blame Cheney. He’s behind my ruined blue dress somehow. Anyone want to be Linda Tripp to my Monica? Impeach! Lets bring the government down!
July 18th, 2008 at 8:57 am
I share your pain, Sam. This is what happens when the bottom goes out of the market: there’s a run on everything, and ordinarily secure and reliable stalwarts of the economy just plummet earthwards. Tea. Currency. Wine. Even blood, because everyone’s rushing to the blood banks.
The only solution is to restore consumer confidence by drinking as much tea and wine as we can, or else to take legal proceedings to indict the administration straight away. I can help with the wine drinking if that’s any use.
July 18th, 2008 at 11:07 am
I reckon I could accurately guess which part of your cycle you’re in, but then if I was right I’d have to dodge the knife heading for my ribs (ducks to avoid flying computer screen).
July 18th, 2008 at 11:15 am
Nice cup of tea and a sit-down, anyone?
July 18th, 2008 at 12:09 pm
I looked at that weak plastic bag bottom, Prendy, all tattered and torn, and then i looked at the gory mess of spaghetti sauce on the floor. And it seemed like a sign of the times. If only I were Ben Bernanke! Alas for the country, a housewife won’t be heeded, no matter what bad tidings her spaghetti sauce augers!
Kim, the truth is today I’m sad. A friend is moving and I will miss her. And I watched the news. That always gets my dander up. As does my own sodding clumsiness. The last time I was this clumsy though, I was pregnant. (!)
No, I’m not.
Sneezers, ta, toots, that sounds lovely. Oh, and a Jaffa Cake – as long as you’re going to the kitchen anyway…
July 18th, 2008 at 1:33 pm
Don’t worry about the blood ie the quantity: it always looks a lot because it is red…like…spaghetti…sauce.
Hey!
July 18th, 2008 at 1:55 pm
If I were you, dear, I’d worry if the utensils were not upset. Frankly, being upset is simply an emotional stage which everyone goes through once in a while. Think how you feel when England beats Scotland on penalty kicks in a football match.
No, I’d pray they were merely upset.
For the alternative — sheer, brooding, evil, sociopathic malevolence — is far, far worse to contemplate.
Keep a hammer handy, dear.
Cheers.
July 18th, 2008 at 2:49 pm
I was going to ask if it was PMT… take an arnica tablet, that’s meant to be good for those clumsy/bumping into things times.
July 18th, 2008 at 4:42 pm
Trust me: Americans are too self-absorbed to wish to expend effort correcting injustices–its part of the culture to stiffen one’s lips, push up the sleeves, and keep on plodding along. We also dont want to think about how bad life sucks, and who is making it suck, cuz, well, that means we’d have to start CARING, and caring means thinking and expending effort on things. Its not that we are genuinely apathetic–we arent–or that we are selfish–its just that we are so damned tired and politically nihilistic. Thats why no one is going to call for the outsing of BushCo. Whats the point? Not gonna change a damn thing.
July 18th, 2008 at 5:03 pm
I don’t like the idea of Cheney being behind your blue dress.
July 18th, 2008 at 7:08 pm
Spilt a cuppa tea on my privates many moons ago. Never spilt a drop since. If ya live ya learn!
July 18th, 2008 at 7:31 pm
The red seems to like messing with the blue. I do not think that I have ever seen a thing -red- ruined by blue.
Sorry ’bout the dress but it might be a sign. Not so much to put on a red dress when on the vin rouge or to ratchet back on use of same, but to use a tankard. Now a giant sippy cup may seem an odd choice but seeing your partners eye dancing from behind one of these things is a lasting image.
July 18th, 2008 at 10:52 pm
Docs, I bet if I’d bought Alfredo sauce I would have a much better idea how much blood I lost. I’m quite sure it was pints and pints.
Rand, we shall fight them in the drawers, we shall fight them on the countertops, we shall fight them over by the sink. We shall never surrender!
Jo, not PMT, more like CLOD (Clumsy Oaf Disorder.)
Rachel, there are many British people like that too and I suspect there are many Italians, French, Brazillian and Senegalese like it too. The difference, I reckon, between the US and other countries (developed countries at least) is the disservice the mainstream media does its citizens in not informing them; in turning the evening news and city newspapers into little more than lifestyle magazines; in lazy reporting; poor knowledge of the rest of the world; and no interest in an informed public beyond what they can make out of them in money from advertisers.
Bock, Any blue dress in a room with that man would blanche to a pale periwinkle in fear of his evil.
Quickroute, ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooowweeeeeeeeeeeeee! Ow! Ow! Ow!
Vincent, i need a giant sippy cup and a bib, when I drink red wine. The one thing that will shift red wine stains right away is a handful of babywipes. Thew will get rid of any stain on almost any surface. God knows what powerful chemicals are in them, but we are applying them to the tender little bottoms of our babies!
July 18th, 2008 at 11:18 pm
Watching the news breaks my heart nowadays. I wince all the way through it, and on the days there is hardly any bad stuff, I feel like I’ve managed to keep evil away just by scrunching up my face.
I once spilt a cup of tea on a pile of freshly laundered, ironed pillowcases. I don’t really hate ironing, but who wants to wash and iron a whole stack of pillowcases twice? That was one of the last times I ironed. I was wary of my teacups after that, too. You’re quite right: we don’t upset them, they upset us, and you can hardly be too vigilant.
July 18th, 2008 at 11:57 pm
A mischievous monkey ghost must have been sitting on your shoulders and jogging your arms. He’ll soon get bored an go and annoy someone else. As for the problem husband, the ghost of Linda Tripp is sitting on his shoulders. I hope she’ll get bored before everyone knows what you say in your sleep.
July 19th, 2008 at 1:11 am
beakers are the way to go. ones with straws. i learned the hard way – the yop-all-over-your-keyboard way.
July 19th, 2008 at 2:32 am
I have days like that and MTL knows to hunker down until calm is restored. Problem husband it seems, will have to learn the hard way. And quick if he knows what’s good for him. Ought you to have an anti tetanus?
July 19th, 2008 at 8:00 am
Don’t be too hasty, Sam. I’d suggest a UN commission to look into it before you proceed to military action. Perhaps containing the insurgency in the kitchen would be a wise move — some peacekeepers from Turdistan could separate the parties. After all, armed intervention would endanger the hundreds of innocent dessert plates and champagne flutes, and we can’t have that.
Yours in caution and a concern for humanity,
July 19th, 2008 at 11:28 am
the best thing the supermarkets did was come out with the reusable bags, sugar! 99cents and they work like a charm, never break and they work for carrying impromtu picnics, as well! as to the rest, you’re right! xoxoxox
(i’m waiting for the MITM, he’s home tonight!!!!!!!)
July 19th, 2008 at 3:40 pm
was woken at 6 this morning with mcthug the youngest settling in for some bedsumo in between his parents. Still half asleep i thought that my back felt funny and a bit warm.. woke five mins later in a small cold wet lake of milk from his supposedly sealed mug.
I do regular spills of red wine onto clothing whenever i walk out to the shed for a crafty fag.. the chest freezer lid is covered in red wine coloured craters from the base of the glass..
July 19th, 2008 at 9:17 pm
I could say, “Storm the Bastille!” (or the white house- closer to home…or if we really wanted to cut off the head go to Cheney’s house) But it all leads to more blood and carnage. And there may be way too many heads that need lopping to contend with. The Trilateral Commission, The Elks, the Women?s Temperance, and as for the Media- it sucks oil from the tit of corporate greed…I know I’m the first often to say, “Raise the Uzi’s high” but I’m in a mellow mood. My dancing tonight helped me find peace. Or it could be the painkiller a friend gave me for the gout…plus the bottle of Mad Dog 20/20. We drank from paper cups. No chance of cutting one self using paper. Wines should be sold in barrels anyway not glass. More wine to drink that way. Whatever I said previous makes no sense- so I’ll leave you with a hug!
July 20th, 2008 at 1:29 am
I was as clumsy as elephant on roller skates when I was pregnant. If there was a cup of tea perched precariously on an armchair within a 20 metre radius, I was sure to find it and thwack it down; any sudden movements and my centre of gravity would go on high alert and I’d nearly fall over. Between that and the indigestion, wind, achey ligaments and constantly blocked nose, it was a blast.
July 20th, 2008 at 4:57 am
I hate those flimsy plastic bags!! I generally bring my own bags, but when I forget I ask the packer to double bag. Even then, the bags break! And some days are indeed like this—-last night I dropped a bag that had Rescue Remedy in it. And the bottle broke. And then I didn’t even have Rescue Remedy to take. Sigh…..
July 20th, 2008 at 6:00 am
Tis the phase of the Moon, exacerbated by the latitude.
You need to recalibrate, allowing for closer proximity to the Equator.
July 20th, 2008 at 12:30 pm
Sign me up for the revolution, Sam!
July 20th, 2008 at 12:44 pm
Ack, Jo bet me to it. I call PMT too, since when suffering I drop/bump into things and type words backwards.
July 21st, 2008 at 3:03 am
Red wine is a little devil like that. I think I’m being all ladylike and whatnot in company and then suddenly I realise I’ve dribble half the glass all over my chest.
And then the knocking over of stuff… Sometimes it happens in slo-mo, as with my favourite mug slipping out of my hands as I was drying it. Noooooooooooooooooooooo!
July 21st, 2008 at 3:05 am
That should be, of course, ‘dribbled’ in the context of that sentence. Guess what I was drinking last night…
July 21st, 2008 at 8:59 am
Mary, come the film of the revolution, I’ll be First Angry Villager With Pitchfork. The one that shouts Aaaaaaargh! a lot.
Nanas, if the Prob Hub had the ghost of Linda Trip on his shoulders I’d urge him to shampoo with all possible haste. But she has no ghost, she’s still alive, more’s the pi…no, I don’t believe even I’m that wicked. Instead I hope she’s living an uncomfortable life somewhere where there are many biting insects.
Rosie, I don’t trust the beakers any more either. They whisper mutinously to each other in the cupboard. I know it.
Pat, Over the years we’ve both pretty much learnt to lay low when the other is in a stompy mood. Pretty much.
Rand, I’m calling in the salt and pepper to arbitrate.
Savannah, I have some of these reusable bags right enough and remember to take them along about 2/3 of the time. Which isn’t good enough. I’m hoping it eventually becomes automatic so I don’t even have to think about it at all.
July 21st, 2008 at 9:18 am
Papalamour, hi! Better a small cold wet lake of milk than a small cold puddle of pee though. I know of nothing better to cause a body to leap out of bed, fully alert at 4am…
Jeremy, hmm, yes. It is my considered opinion that it is the Mad Dog. I’ve never heard of painkillers leading one to endorse raising the uzis high before. Apart from Rush Limbaugh, that is.
Ruby, howya? I am sure that there was not a minute of my pregnancy in which I glowed. Apart from the occasional massive spot it gave me. They glowed allright.
Debra, hi! Does that Rescue Remedy work then?
Conan, speaking of latitudes, I’ve been away from home so long now that when I go home in summer I can’t get over how light it still is out at 11pm. I begin to think, what manner of freaky people live here in this wierd day-night limbo. And then I think, oh.
Medbh, I knew I could count on you, sister!
fmc, I am terse with PMS.
jen. the other problem with red wine is black teeth. I am appalled sometimes to see my mouth looking like an unholy bat-cave when on the red wine. I know what you mean about the slow motion thing too! You get that instant to scramble for the cup, but it only ever makes you get tea on your sleeves.
July 21st, 2008 at 11:04 am
I actually squeaked when I read about the tea being spilt on the towels. Now that’s a shaggin’ nightmare. Time to get one of those commuter style grippy cups. Arf.
July 21st, 2008 at 12:07 pm
Oh by the by Fatmammycat, don’t think I didn’t notice your little jibe about poetry in Sam’s previious post. These bittersweet comments of your’s just make the waiting all the more exquisite.
I’m putting you up to sixteen.
July 21st, 2008 at 8:55 pm
Oh cups and glasses are so overrated. Over Christmas I crashed my brother’s family holiday in China and would drink red wine out of little paper drinking envelopes. (They looked like what you used to put your library card in, in the back of library books.) They were fantastic – until the bottom of them collapsed and you ended up wearing the red wine (think bottom of ice cream cones when they’ve gone soggy). Apart from that minor detail, I can thoroughly recommend them.