Now Is The Winter Of Our !@#$#*!!! Discontent...

I'm sooo sick of advisories; snow advisories, wind advisories; flood advisories, low temp advisories, Godzilla attack advisories - and these are just the ones in February and the !@#$%$# month ain't over yet! Damn Groundhog.

My husband, in an attempt to distract me from constantly bitching about the weather, saw fit to get me a new phone. I'd been asking for the new nV for a while now because the man has a thing for sending me long winded text messages from the road on his keyboard outfitted blackberry. Normally on my old phone, it took me half an hour to reply back with a one-word expletive and the demand that he call me instead.

So, I got my phone. It's great having the keyboard - makes texting easier the aforementioned expletive and demand that he call me much easier. The only problem is, when I was going through the phone numbers to delete old ones, I noticed two for people I didn't seem to know.

Which is weird, because I'm so lazy about technology that I usually don't enter a number unless a)it's my mother's or even more importantly - my hairdresser's or b) someone is holding a gun to my head (you know who you are). So why do I have two numbers from people I don't even know?

My first impulse was to ask my husband if he knew who "Brad" and "Janet" (not the real names - I don't want to look like a total ass in case whoever the hell they are read this) are. He had no clue. The numbers didn't even look familiar except for the fact they are local. Okay, so when Bernie and Michelle were over to watch NASCAR on Sunday (as part of their evil plan to hook me on the sport - nice job, by the way) I asked them if I knew who Brad and Janet were. After looking at me funny, they said they didn't know. The next night, I had dinner with Mom and Steve, so I asked them. I mean, come on - Mom oughta know, right?

Turns out, my mother doesn't know me as well as I think she should. I'm devising a quiz to take care of that and if she gets the first one right I won't even hook her up to the rusty car battery for the rest of the questions.

So, I'm stuck with Brad and Janet (dammit) on my cell phone. The last resort would be to call them, but what exactly would I say? "Hello. Who are you and how do I know you?" Doesn't seem like a good idea if it's someone important. I guess I could just leave them in there - but it's driving me mad (mwah hah hah!) that I don't know who it is.

I may need to be institutionalized over this - somewhere in Hawaii or someplace without abominable snowman advisories. I'd bet it's nice and quiet there. Well, except for all the damned text messages my husband would send me.

The Assassin