It’s close to midnight but I was just watching TV because a bunch of people on twitter told me they saw me on Nightline. I caught the last part of it and apparently my blog had a 2.5 second cameo on a story about Soleil Moon Frye (who is super-sweet in real life, and who once accidentally invited me to her house*.) So then I ran and jumped on the bed and woke Victor up while screaming “I WAS JUST ON DATELINE WITH PUNKY BREWSTER!” And then Victor glared at me and asked if I was hallucinating from the Ambien again and I assured him that I wasn’t. Then he rolled over and muttered loudly, “I’M HIDING ALL THE SLEEPING PILLS TOMORROW MORNING,” which was really not the high-five I was looking for, and so I may have hit him with a pillow to get his attention. Then he growled into the pillow, “So you want me to believe you were on To Catch A Predator. With Punky Brewster. And none of this is a hallucination?” And then I realized that I’d said I was on Dateline instead of Nightline, and so I forgave him for doubting me. Then I made him sit up so he could watch the 2.5 seconds where they showed my blog, and he rolled his eyes at me and was like “Yep. That’s your blog. I see it all the time in real life. Now please turn the tv down because some of us have to get up early in the morning.”
A less stable woman would have murdered her husband with an axe at that very moment, but it occurred to me that murdering Victor would serve no point, as I’d still have no one to high-five when they flashed our pictures on Crimeline later on. Also, I don’t know if there’s a show called Crimeline, but my guess is that there is.
PS. This post was written under the influence of adrenaline. And sleeping pills. But not the kind that make you hallucinate. The kind that make you glad you can’t remember where you put the axe.
I’m going to stop writing now.
*This sounds like a more entertaining story than it is. Soleil invited me to her house for something, but I assumed it must have just been an accident so I politely declined to avoid any awkwardness, and then she said she was sorry I couldn’t make it. That’s the story. They’re not all gonna be winners, y’all.
UPDATE: Here’s the episode if you’re my mom and actually want to see it. It’s not the Craigslist Killer story. Stop panicking, mom.
