Tuesday, November 25th, 2008: The Night of Nights; the series finale of my beloved "The Shield" comes on in a mere 10 hours. Caleb and I are having a Shield party that involves the last packet of microwave popcorn and 90 minutes of pure, uninterrupted AC, AS, AL, N, S, and V. My observations and predictions in no particular order:
- Claudette is off her meds and off her rocker. She quits her job and/or dies.
- Dutch gets serial killed. For sure.
- This is somehow the fault of Billings…
- Who kills himself because he’s just a miserable man to begin with.
- Vic gets his deal and Ronnie goes to jail…
- Or Ronnie makes it to Mexico and Vic goes to jail.
- But not before strangling Corrine.
- Because I know I would if I were him.
- Mara gives birth. Obviously.
- Shane and Mara leave their kids in a dumpster. Or a Wal-Mart.
- Then they go out Thelma-and-Louise-style. One can only hope.
I guess I spoke too soon the other day when I said we were all fairly healthy; I’ve come down with what can only be Ebola. I haven’t felt this crappy in years, morning sickness included.
Merrick has officially started crawling. He doesn’t do it much, but there was one point where he moved his knees and then his arms in a crawling motion–I count that, even though he’s gone right back to picking himself up with his arms and throwing himself foward with his legs. Either way, the boy can move. He’s fast. And he’s grabby, and he only wants what he can’t have, and he wants it bad. His "stationary" walker? He drags it across the room like an ox. An ox, I tell you.
Mia is excited about Thanksgiving. I am, too, but I think that she thinks there’s a lot more too it than food. I’m afraid she’s going to be disappointed, just like on Election Day. No presents, no balloons, no twisty slide.
Cheyenne went to another dance last weekend with her friends. This time I didn’t have to twist her arm, and she even sort of allowed me to do her hair and make-up. And by sort of allowed I mean she protested and protested and when I finally got out the straightener she didn’t say anything. She just let it happen. It was one of the proudest moments of my life. I used to hate it when my mom tried to tell me how to wear my hair. I get it now. I’ve been saying that a lot lately. But I do get it.
Caleb is still liking Staples. I guess it doesn’t hurt that he has to investigate business leads like Centerfolds and XXXtasy Ranch. What the hell kind of office supplies could they possibly use? Nobody answer that.
I’m off to wallow in my diseased misery. If you don’t hear from me in the next week, it means I’ve overdosed on Dayquil. Happy Thanksgiving!