Nothing like watching an assassin movie at 12:30am to ring in a Sunday.

Seriously. This is not what I thought I'd be doing tonight. I thought I'd be doing that sleep thing normal people with three kids do. However, John Malkovich has enticed me into seeing how he can kill three men within a five minute span on a crowded German train. He actually pulled it off. That's hot.

It's been a fairly busy week, which is an obvious state of being give the fact that we're moving in a few days. I've been packing boxes while watching the clueless masses on HGTV whine because they can't sell their homes. Of course you can't sell, stupid. You have roosters stenciled on your kitchen cabinet doors. You have carpet on your bathroom floor. You wallpapered your room a lovely paisley-patterned eggplant. What do you expect, genius? Good thing there are people (losers) like me who love watching you stare in disbelief as real estate agents tell you your home is scary. It's me, the viewer, who makes it possible for you to get $3000 and a personal decorator to neutralize the ugly. You should be sending me flowers. Preferably in white so they'll go with my bright, beautiful rooms. Sucker.

As vain as I am about my savvy designer side, I'm going to need all the decorating help I can get when we move. The house itself is great, but there are some things that really need to change. Like, um, the wood panelling in the livingroom, diningroom and playroom. Oh, and then there's the stick-on linoleum tiles put over the hardwood in the upstairs hallway.

If I don't break out in hives within an hour of getting the keys I will consider that a big accomplishment.

The gremlins will love the yard, though. A half-acre is pretty pimp. We're also going to have these large sticks with green things on them that I've heard are called 'trees'. We have two smaller versions of these 'trees' in our current yard, but they're pity plants. The ones put in by the builder after they plowed over all the mommy and daddy trees to make our neighbourhood. As a token of environmental friendliness, they decided to plant a two-foot stick in the sod on everyone's property. Isn't that nice of them?

Oh, and we're going to get another thing. It's called 'privacy'. That means that when we go outside we won't be close enough to our neighbours to smell what they had for dinner last night on their breath. We won't be able to hear every little conversation about weeds and taxes and other stimulating topics. Gosh darnit, I'm going to miss it so!

Ok, super sleuth, you got me. I'm not going to miss it in the slightest. I won't shed a tear that I will no longer be able to listen to 'Technotric's Greatest Hits' on Red Saturn Romeo's stereo as he whips around the corner toward his house. You know how some people crank their music when they're on the highway and then turn it down as their entering a residential area? Well, if you do know anyone with that kind of tact please feel free to introduce them to my neighbour. He really, really thinks he's cool in his 'sports car' with his 'stereo'. I haven't had the heart to tell him that he drives a Saturn. I just don't think he knows, that's all. Maybe I'll leave him a note when we leave:

Dear Red Saturn Romeo (the car, not the planet),

Hi. It's The Maven who lives down the road. You know, the one with the loud children? Oh, you may not have heard them because you always have your stereo up. That's the reason I'm writing to you. You see, I'm moving today and I never had a chance to tell you how I feel. I first noticed you when 'I'm Too Sexy' was bumping from your phat ride. Then, when you nearly hit my toddler after squealing around the corner and then stopped short, I got a really good look at your brand-name tanktop and gold bling around your neck and knew right then that I wanted to get to know you.

I'm sure you don't mean to come across as cool as you do, but it's unavoidable when you do it so naturally. Your fast car, the way you drive, the music you listen to and those great clothes really make you hot. I think I'm in love with you, but please don't tell my husband. He tries to be sexy, but he drives a Cobalt and listens to rock. He's just not a rebel like you. Your wife is one lucky woman.

We can never be together, but I'll always think of you when I watch The Fast and the Furious, which has great plot and excellent actors. It's quality, like you.

Your Ace of Base,
The Maven.

Sadly, this is my life. I'm just not of the same caliber as some people. I really hope our new neighbours are this interesting. I've heard the ones who live across the street are incredibly anal about their yard. That should be loads of fun! I love people who take a half-acre of natural beauty and destroy any attempt at an ecosystem that could be forming on it. Stupid nature encroaching on their lawn. It doesn't pay the damn property taxes. What right does it have?

Well, back to my assassin movie. That word makes me giggle every time I write it. No, not 'movie'. The other word. Teehee.