![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
If Jenn and Michele get their way, I may be the only living organism in this house that has not consumed beer tonight. I mean, now that they're trying to force-feed it to the cats (or force-drink? that doesn't sound right...what do you call it?) and it was established this afternoon that Jenn's spider plant and Ralph, Michele's plant, are dead.
Michele came downstairs where I was eating, Erin was watching TV, and Jenn was dealing with the aftermath of the waterfall that had gushed from our bathroom down into the dining room and into the box containing all the bills and other papers important to her. She was peeling them apart and hanging them places as if they were damp laundry. Anyway, Michele came downstairs holding her plant and said, "Do you think Ralph's dead or is this just a normal part of the life cycle?" Erin and Jenn immediately voted for dead, but I really thought it'd be funny if that state was part of his normal life cycle.
Michele went into the kitchen to throw Ralph in the garbage and then commented that he wasn't the only dead plant in the house. To prove it, she showed us Jenn's spider plant. It looked really bad, but Jenn insisted it would be fine if she put some water on it. Michele decided to water both plants (she had to fish Ralph out of the garbage) and put them on the windowsill next to each other. She said they could keep each other company. I still think they're both dead.
Which means it's just Erin, Jenn, Michele, the cats and me. The three humans have had at least two beers apiece, Jenn and Michele, who haven't had anything to eat in a day or three, are rather drunk. It's quite amusing. Being around drunk people is a bit of a novelty to me, as is enthusiastically being encouraged to drink.
"I'll even make it green, Holly!"
"That's okay. I don't like beer."
"You could have a baby!"
"I don't want a baby!" (If you don't know what we're talking about, read this.)
"You know," she said, stumbling into our room, "Michele and I figured out that it's not just the green beer."
"Really. What is it?" I asked, as if I needed to.
"It's spring break!" she said. I guess for someone who'd been advertising the fact that she'd been going to have sex over spring break (and not at any other time between January and May) this makes sense.
Michele came downstairs where I was eating, Erin was watching TV, and Jenn was dealing with the aftermath of the waterfall that had gushed from our bathroom down into the dining room and into the box containing all the bills and other papers important to her. She was peeling them apart and hanging them places as if they were damp laundry. Anyway, Michele came downstairs holding her plant and said, "Do you think Ralph's dead or is this just a normal part of the life cycle?" Erin and Jenn immediately voted for dead, but I really thought it'd be funny if that state was part of his normal life cycle.
Michele went into the kitchen to throw Ralph in the garbage and then commented that he wasn't the only dead plant in the house. To prove it, she showed us Jenn's spider plant. It looked really bad, but Jenn insisted it would be fine if she put some water on it. Michele decided to water both plants (she had to fish Ralph out of the garbage) and put them on the windowsill next to each other. She said they could keep each other company. I still think they're both dead.
Which means it's just Erin, Jenn, Michele, the cats and me. The three humans have had at least two beers apiece, Jenn and Michele, who haven't had anything to eat in a day or three, are rather drunk. It's quite amusing. Being around drunk people is a bit of a novelty to me, as is enthusiastically being encouraged to drink.
"I'll even make it green, Holly!"
"That's okay. I don't like beer."
"You could have a baby!"
"I don't want a baby!" (If you don't know what we're talking about, read this.)
"You know," she said, stumbling into our room, "Michele and I figured out that it's not just the green beer."
"Really. What is it?" I asked, as if I needed to.
"It's spring break!" she said. I guess for someone who'd been advertising the fact that she'd been going to have sex over spring break (and not at any other time between January and May) this makes sense.