As some of you know, I sort of had a rough time of it last week. Not only were my kids hit with a mild case of the Swine Flu, but now my hair guy, Mr. Jimmy, has apparently gone AWOL. Or more accurately, “Absent With Out Letting Me Know Why The Hell His Phone Won’t Work And Now I Have Two Inch Dark Roots And Look Like A WalMart Tranny.” (AWOLMKWTHHPWWANIHTIDRALLAWT for short.)

Luckily, my neighbor has put her house up for sale, so I’ve been temporarily cheered up by seeing this sign every day:

Yes, apparently there’s a Realtor in town whose name is  “Jose Cuervo” just like the tequila brand. But while I’ve had a great time screaming, “Woo-Hoo! Do you get free salt and lime with purchase?!”, my husband now tells me that my “shtick is getting a little old” and that I should just zip it before one of the other neighbors on the block throws limes at my head. What can I say—it’s a tough suburb.

Since I don’t have that to cheer me up anymore, I was really excited to get an early birthday present from my sister Amy. Amy always sends me great things like Nordstrom gift cards and nice jewelry. But apparently Amy must have had someone throwing limes at her head, too, because this is the first thing I pulled out of my gift box:

Uh-huh. Love’s Baby Soft spray perfume. Awwwww, yeah. Something I loved when I was 12, but this time when I put it on, the cat went into hiding, the kids started gagging, and my neck broke out in horrible, itchy hives. Thanks, Amy!

But wait—there’s more:

She also sent me the OFF! Clip-On mosquito repellent. The one that I wrote about a while back when I said, “now you can look even more like a jackass this summer.” And not only did she send me a package that was already open, but it also has TWO clearance stickers on it letting me know I’m worth $2.33. Thanks, Amy!

Finally, my lovely sister knew that I was upset about not getting to Vegas this year to see a very special someone—mostly because out of the 1,200 people I asked, nobody would go with me—so she sent me this:

Plus a Barry poster and a fashion-forward Copacabana keychain. And then she made the ultimate sacrifice by offering to go to see Barry’s Music and Passion show with me; albeit on the condition that I “pay for the tickets and tons of drinks,” keep the rest of the “freaky Fanilows” away from her, and let her listen to Bon Jovi on her iPod while Barry’s singing. Thanks, Amy!

But while her gifts were insane to say the least, I do feel a little cheered up. So much so that when I just saw my neighbor whose house is for sale, I wasn’t even tempted to ask if her mortgage lender’s name is Jack Daniels.

Now if I can just find Mr. Jimmy.