Dar, I am sure, is the sweetest thing that ever walked this earth; she looks adorable in the pictures she’s posted on her blog. She’s a midwife who lovingly soothes laboring mothers and welcomes their babies into the world. How could she be anything but nice?
I am equally as certain that Julie is a whack job. Of course, I mean that in the most complimentary way and let’s not forget it takes one to know one. This chick is twisted and that’s exactly why I invited her for a visit in the first place. I’d say birds of a feather flock together, but like me, Julie has a wicked bird phobia and we don’t care for expressions like that.
There are other similiarites: We also can’t stand rap and hip-hop music (is there a difference?), have unhealthy obsessions with Denis Leary, and even arrange our closets in a similar manner. Here’s a picture Julie posted last week, displaying her practice of arranging her blouses according to color:
And here’s my collection of sleazy $7.99 tops from Ross Dress-for-Less:
According to color, of course. Scary, huh?
But there are a couple of ways in which I know we’re definitely not alike. A few years younger than I am, Julie is a big-haired girl who loves the 80s. To me that decade represents a big black mark on American culture. The music was horrible (save for U2 and Talking Heads), the fashions were fugly, and then only way I could have big hair with my anemic locks would be if I put on a Don King wig.
But the biggest way that we differ: I would never, ever be able to stay at someone’s house for four nights sight unseen.
[Now, Travel Girl (who’s staying only until Saturday evening—those babies know no holiday schedule), she’s has been all over the world and I know Dar’s slept in conditions that would make me shudder; my idea of roughing it is a Courtyard Marriott with a broken air conditioner. We’re not cut from the same cloth when it comes to that.]
No, I am way too Princess and the Pea to blindly stay at someone’s house. Seriously, I’d be broken out in hives and eczema wondering,
What if they have a dog? What if it starts licking me?Okay, so you know I’m afraid of animals. But I have other worries; worries about food
What if they have a cat?
What if they have a cat and they let it walk all over the kitchen counters?
What if they have a dog and they’re the type who pets the dog and then starts molding the hamburger patties?
What if they have a bird?
What if they have feather pillows and one of the feathers falls out and then I have to have somebody come in and get rid of it for me because I don’t touch feathers?
What if they make scrambled eggs in the morning and they’re runny?Remember, this is coming from someone with spotted dick in her fridge.
What if they use margarine and not butter?
What if they make tuna salad with chunk light tuna instead of solid white?
What if they don’t use Hellman’s mayonnaise? What if they’re (gulp) Miracle Whip people?
What if they use skim milk and not 2%? Even whole milk would be fine, but I’m sorry, skim milk is blue.
What if they put celery in everything?
What if they make something I don’t like the sound of, like soy?
Those brave girls! So maybe Julie’s not a whack job compared to me. Hmm… I wonder what questions are going through their heads right now
Stay tuned for the latest in Saturday’s post. But don’t expect it too early—we have a swinging Friday night planned!