Could someone please tell the universe...

That I am not a toilet and to please stop crapping on me?

Thanks.

Yes, I'm being whiney again. I hate it when I have whiney blogs. It's so weird, despite success in some areas lately, I feel like I am barely holding the rest of my life together. I just don't get why it always has to be so hard. And I'm really hating that I get a glimmer of hope that just sort of dissipates. PLEASE may I blow something up?

Great. Now I can't mention what I'm doing tomorrow, or else I'll have Homeland Security after me.

Dear Friends at Homeland Security,

I honestly do not wish to blow anything up. Frankly, I probably could not blow anything up if I tried. I don't even know HOW to blow stuff up. And if I did, the only thing I would probably blow up, with the way my life is going, is myself. But hey, the bright side is you'd be able to close your file on me, and I'd be with Jesus. Seriously, any and all mention I make of blowing stuff up is just me being PMSy.

Thank you for your time.


OH! OH! OH!

I forgot to tell this story! I almost DID blow up the neighborhood on Monday. That was so freaky. We're barbecuing, I have a deck full of people, and I'm just chatting along as I'm flipping burgers. It starts to feel a bit warm, but on my legs, which is odd, since we have a gas grill and the flames are up top, so I feel them on my arms. I look down, and the propane tank is ON FIRE! Now, raise your hand if you know what happens when fire and propane come in contact with each other. If you answered KABOOM! you're partially right.

Ordinarily, that IS what happens. However, because I am paranoid about all the weird man stuff That Man does, we have fire extinguishers on hand. He grabs a fire extinguisher, puts out the fire, and the funny thing is, one of our friends is a firefighter. He didn't realize what was happening until That Man hosed everyone down with a fire extinguisher. Fortunately, the first wave of burgers and dogs were ready about that time, none of them got doused, and I was at least able to get the pregnant lady and children fed before they caused a riot. Unfortunately, the fire melted a control thingy on the grill so the men had to play MacGyver before I could cook more burgers. And, just because I know you were wondering, we did have a spare propane tank-after all, doesn't everyone? You never know when your other one is going to blow up. The men did figure out that the first propane tank had a defective seal, which caused propane to leak, and badda bing, you have propane tank on fire. The good news is that even if I'd blown up the neighborhood, we do live two blocks from the fire station, so they'd have been able to contain most of the damage. ;)

See, even with all the right equipment, right setting, I can't even blow up my neighborhood. I am such a pathetic excuse for a homicidal maniac.

You know, maybe that could be my next book-homicidal maniac who desperately wants to blow up the universe and keeps failing miserably. And, because I'm a miserable, rotten psychopath, my heroine will finally succeed the day she meets Mr. Perfect. Can she keep the universe from blowing up in time?