I shouldn’t have eaten yesterday. Or attempted to watch Perfect Strangers. I was laughing so hard I hurt my surgery (“haha…ow…”). Then I threw up. It made for an interesting afternoon. My back started hurting, so I insisted that Dennis fill the bed a little more. He did it, and I feel a little bad about making him do it, because it took so long, and it was cold immediately afterwards. Which I complained about. I am not a good patient. First I complained that the bed wasn’t full enough, then I complained that the bed wasn’t warm right after cold water was put in it. I was impossible.
Three vicodins and some caffeine later, I was able to sit through the PlayList last night.
This morning, I was well enough to want to go to the store with Dennis. He was only buying a few things, but I wanted to get up and out. While I was getting dressed, I downloaded our mail, and guess what?
Someone had emailed me, and CC’ed the email to Dennis. This was the body of the email:
“U R a trouble making slut. Proof. UR wife is sleeping with this guy. Proof is attached. I’d get some paternity tests on those kids if I were U. She admits it on her blog!”
Attached was a picture of Matt and I at his birthday party. I was kissing him on the cheek. It was saved from Matt’s blog. In response to that email, which came from a Gmail address: AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! The email downloaded twice because Dennis and I use the same mail client on this computer! I could have usurped that plot if it wasn’t so hilarious. Dennis knows about this blog. He doesn’t read it (I assume). He knows Matt. He knows Matt is gay. Most importantly, he knows I didn’t even know Matt until after I was pregnant the last time, and he knows that pregnancies don’t happen because of a woman kissing a man on the cheek. Because this email was so funny, I had to show it to Dennis. We had a good laugh about it. I wish I hadn’t deleted it then purge the trash because I should have printed it out first.
Who the hell does that person think they are? Do they think that by sending my husband a picture he took and being all anonymous, they’re going to cause marital problems for me via the internet? Sorry. Our marriage is stronger than the internet.
As if that wasn’t funny enough, going to the store with Dennis and Chloe this morning proved amusing. We ran into Miss Christian, goody-good, who had an illegitimate baby at 16 and has been sabotaging her ex’s life ever since, at the store. She’s a neighbor of our’s. I used to read her Myspace blog when it was amusing. She used to complain about gays, and our mutual friend was gay. She made a post about how gays should be executed in the name of Jesus or something, and he got upset with her. It broke up their friendship. Lately, her blog has been painful to read. She posts copied and pasted entries from mindless dronings of how Obama is going to ruin the country and force all pregnant women to get abortions and then do mass sterilization on them or something idiotic like that.
Back to what happened today.
Miss Christian (not her real name) seen us in the store. Chloe was climbing a display of stacked packs of Pepsi, and I was sitting on a stack of dog grain. My pain was back. The vicodins hadn’t kicked in yet, and I was just playing along because Dennis got the shocks on his car fixed while I was in the hospital, and he’s been practically begging me to tell him how much better the car runs now, and I could feel every bug we ran over in the road. Miss Christian walked past us with her man and three children and mumbled something about that woman and her devil child.
Excuse me?!
Shouldn’t it have been that child and the devil woman? Chloe is four! She’s four years old! She doesn’t have any conception of Satan and Jesus or even God! How can she be worshipping the devil?!
Dennis had been looking at the list when she went by muttering under her breath like the proud, sinless child-of-Christ she is. His head snapped up when she said that. “The fuck’s your problem?” he asked her, quite loudly. Oh lord. At least he had the gall to say what was on his mind loud enough to be heard.
Miss Christian pretended not to hear him and walked on by with her husband and three children. Her man didn’t even have the guts to defend his wife! Of course they’re better than us. Jesus says so. *rolls eyes*