Whatever Happened to Macauley Culkin Anyway?

I recently had to stop watching Criminal Minds and if I’m being honest, I’m still mourning the loss of some regular Shemar Moore action.  He is a fox, and if I had one of those celebrity freebie lists, he’d totally be on it but I long ago decided those lists were not for Garrett and I you see, because Garrett has poor celebrity judgment.  The only evidence I ever need to present is the fact that before we started dating he had Lindsay Lohan posters adorning his walls — IN THE LIVING ROOM.  Um, case closed.  Granted, that was back in 2004 pre-rehab and she was pretty cute, but still.  I think we can all agree that based on that information Garrett is NEVER allowed a celebrity freebie, so obviously it’s only fair that I refrain myself.  

I used to get my Shemar fix almost nightly watching old reruns but our rendezvous ( wait – how do you make that word plural?) eventually had to come to an end because of my house.  You see my house is old — old and creaky and did  you know old creaky houses make noises when the temperature changes?  Well they do, and because I have watched way too many episodes of Criminal Minds I can tell you that my house makes the exact noises that a prowler would make if he were slyly shuffling on our hardwood floors.  My old, creaky house also makes the exact noises that a crazy rapist serial killer would make if there were one living in my attic.  And they say television isn’t educational!  The point is watching Criminal Minds was not helping me relax at the end of a long day, so I had to call it quits.  But I miss it desperately! 

Speaking of desperately missing, Garrett is in New Mexico for 11 days visiting his parents and I can count on one hand how many times we have slept apart for that long in our 5 year relationship.  I know that sounds terribly Liza Minelli/David Guest, but it’s the truth.  Sure we do weekends away from each other a lot, or overnighters here and there, we’re not total psychos, but this is like A WHOLE WEEK LONGER THAN THAT. To say it has disrupted my routine is not surpring.  With no kids and no pets, coming home and downloading my day to the artwork hanging on the walls just isn’t quite as validating you know?  There’s no one waiting for me at home to have dance parties to bad 90s music or to throw steaks on the grill so when I pull into the driveway our whole yard smells delicious.  The vibe is a little different and I am vacillating between acting like a total single gal and feeling sorry for myself.  Consequently I have also watched like 900 episodes of Who’s the Boss — I’m not sure if that counts as acting single or feeling sorry for myself, but at least it’s been quite entertaining.  That was a good show and I miss those kinds of happy family comedies.  When does Modern Family come back on, by the way?  Anyway, as you can probably imagine all of this alone time has helped me harness my inner-spaz so tightly that I am now so afraid of every little creak in the house that I may officially qualify as medically paranoid.  Which is why waking up this morning to find a man with a mask on and chainsaw in my backyard was more than a little unpleasant. 

Apparently this man  was just there to cut down a portion of my next door neighbors’ dying tree that was hanging in our backyard but I will let you know that was of little consequence for a multitude of reasons, including:  A) DUDE IT WAS SEVEN IN THE MORNING and B) IT WAS A STRANGE MAN IN A MASK WITH A CHAINSAW.  I had let myself hit the snooze a few times — mostly because I had woken up no less than 5 times throughout the night certain there was a masked man in my kitchen — but instead of that enjoying that extra sleep time and waking rested and refreshed I was startled awake by the sound of Leatherface outside our bedroom sliding glass door.  Oh City of Sacramento, had I wanted that much adrenaline before 8am I would have just added a shot to my Go Girl, mmmkay?  Please take note. 

So pre-coffee sparring with Leatherface aside, I had actually made a plan of how I was going to enjoy this time while Garrett was away.  Determined to not spend my evenings at home alone counting my heart palpitations, I had committed to a vigorous workout and socializing schedule which was fine in theory, but pretty much blew up in practice last night.  When I got to my weightlifting class yesterday all the platforms, weight bars, and dumbbells were taken, even though I was 15 minutes early.  Jerks!  I love that class and I had actually been excited to workout only to be totally dissed by a room full of spandex clad cougars.  There I was stuck at the gym with no iPod to speak of, on a treadmill, parked in front of the only TV showing Bill O’Reilly of all things.  Every other TV had nice normal gym programming like The Food Network, and I get Bill Effing O’Reilly.  I will save you the suspense and tell you that my workout did not last long and I went home feeling a bit dejected, mostly because that was supposed to take up a good hour and a half — what with working out and then showering afterward — and instead I got home about 30 minutes after I left and I hadn’t even broken a sweat.  At least my package from Amazon.com had arrived while I was gone so it wasn’t a total bust.  

Tonight I think I’m going to try working out again (I will bring my iPod for backup just in case) and I was hoping to then have a leisurely night catching up on my DVR, but when I stopped home for lunch this afternoon I discovered my cable AND my internet were out. 

No cable.  And No Internet. 

You know what this means, right?  There is a high probability that tonight it will just be me and the house. 

Home Alone.

And well, I think this pretty much sums up my feeling on that: 

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