Neurosa

It is official

Sunday, June 29, 2008

I have had my Paypal account since 2004, and yesterday they notified me that my account is under review because I have, to date, received 1000€, and they want to make sure I’m not laundering money. Wow. 1000€ in four years make 250€ a year! I am so totally cashing in! If only someone would have bothered to let me know I’m rolling in dough, because somehow it has escaped me. (Except not really - I might not be the most sanitary of people, I know that, but I can’t stand the smell of money. That dank smell of people’s past greasy meals and toilet visits give me the shivers in the worst possible way ever. If I’d been rolling in money, I would know just from the smell.)

Also, they are not TAKING my possibly laundered money, at least there is that. I can even withdraw funds while my review is underway. I guess that means I can put a roll on that 80€ I have in there and spend it all before they realize they are dealing with a columbian drug lord and take away my fortune.

Jelly Man’s vacation doesn’t actually start until tomorrow, but he skipped Friday and so we’ve been dilly dallying around for the past weekend. Yesterday was kind of boring, so we were channel surfing like gnats on a sugar high. Sometimes Funland has a gem up its sleeve, and sometimes it even takes it out and twirls it between its fingers for all of us to see and hem and haw at. Yesterday we came across an accordion competition while manically switching between channels.

My grandpa was an accordion player. It’s just about the only thing I remember about him. The accordion and his black beard. And that one time where he pressed my cheeks while my mouth was full of juice, and so successfully turning me into a juice fountain.

We watched some accordion competition there for a while. Did you know that a great big chunk of today’s accordion players are hunky early-twenty-somethings? With glorious tanned complexions, except for that Russian guy who looked slightly vitamin deficient and that other dude who looked like Bono, and you could totally imagining them picking up a sax and tearing it up - except they did! With an accordion! Tore the place right up, they did!

And you could tell, you could no more take two musicians and make them switch accordions any more than you could tell them to detach their legs and switch with each other. Each accordion was its own masterpiece, big, small, glittery, classy and just slightly over the top, an extension of its owner. And in typical musician fashion they all looked constipated and twitchy while they were jamming it up. So, there you had a handful and a half of, mostly, hunky young men doing their thing with an accordion strapped to their front. Accordions approximately the size of a really healthy infant..

Oh.. Right!

NOW I GET IT!

So, yes, I have the dreaded baby fever.