Monday, May 21, 2012

I came this close to being blown to smithereens, y'all.

I came home in a rush Friday, thanks to the following thought process (the advice I followed is highlighted):
[Thursday Night]
Smart Self: "Dude. The church lady retreat starts tomorrow. You should pack your overnight bag now."
Stupid Self: "Duuuudddeee. You should totally launch your etsy store ahead of schedule. And then make iron on tee shirts to wear at the church lady retreat. Promoting yourself at church lady retreats is totally cool. You can pack tomorrow morning before work."

[Friday Morning]
Smart Self: "You got out of bed on time! Let's get that bag packed."
Stupid Self: "Or you could use this extra time to stop at McDonald's for a small sugar free vanilla iced coffee. It's totally cool for your low-carb diet. You'll have time to pack when you get home from work."

Smart Self: "You don't get off until 5:00. It takes 30-40 min to drive home during 'rush hour' and you have to be at LaHacienda at 6:30 for the retreat kickoff."
Stupid Self: "Shut. Up."
[Friday Afternoon]
Stupid Self: "I totally hate the way the iron on shirt looks. It's too big. Stop and buy another shirt after work. Cut out the iron on and hand sew it to the new shirt. It'll look quirky and awesome."
Smart Self: "That will look way better. But you never packed."

So I arrive home in a rush needing to sew a new shirt and pack a bag and be at LaHacienda in 30 minutes. And then I see it. A triangle shaped box. A WMD. A Weapon of Mass Destruction is sitting on my front porch. 

I rack my brain - have I ordered anything recently? Two books from Amazon. Neither of them  WMD shaped. Birchbox, but that's not supposed to arrive until next Wed and it isn't WMD shaped either. I decide to call some department with the word "Federal" in front of it but all I can think of is the Federal Reserve Bank. They can't even figure out money - what would they do about this? So I decide to take care of it myself. I watch Criminal Minds. They detonated a bomb once. I think. 

The box says it's from Lieberman's. Nice job terrorists, no one will ever suspect a Jewish person of sending a WMD. The box also says "Orange. Even3. SALM-4896." I don't know what kind of bomb that is but it sounds bad. Orange is right below threat level red. So I assume it will take out my entire neighborhood but not my entire town. This neighborhood isn't that great anyway. I should warn my cousin and her daughters who also live in my hood though. Nah, it probably won't reach them.

I carefully open the box. The bomb is covered in packing paper so I can't see it. Sweat drips from my brow. I think about how I didn't realize bombs were so light-weight and how I haven't sewn the new shirt yet so surely the old shirt will be the only thing that survives the blast and everyone will be like "wow, that's a crappy shirt." I finally get through the packing paper and see this:

What?!? A clue? Oh wait. Liberman's is a wholesale prints place and I ordered this from sneaqpeeq. And I did it wrong - no free earrings for me. 

BTW, we split up into 3 groups at the church lady retreat for late night activities/sleeping. This may have happened because my group was awesome:

I'm fairly certain that the owners of the post-it-ed cars and the forked yard said things that began with "Good Lord" the next morning. Obviously we helped them grow spiritually. We so won the retreat. 


  1. I've just found your blog through The Nerds Wife...and you are freakin' hilarious!!! The mystery package was too funny...oh man. Look forward to reading more :D