All good things must come to an end -- including, sadly, this blog.

Yes, folks, I'm shutting her down.

I've been publishing the blog for a couple of years now, and I've had a lot of fun doing it, so it's not a decision I made lightly. But I just don't have the time (and, let's face it, the life) to sustain the blog any longer. Really, what was the last interesting thing I posted? Yeah, I thought so.

But don't fret, you won't get rid of me that easily. You can find me on Facebook (Maria Perez). I'll post all my pics, musings, etc., on there, so you'll still be able to get your daily dose of Maria (minus the Diarrhea, regrettably).

When one door opens, another one closes. Or whatever that means. I don't even really think it's apropos to this situation; it just seemed like the right thing to say.

Aw, admit it, you're gonna miss me. Sniff, sniff.

So I get home from work last night and am waiting for the roofer to come look at the leak that happened during the last storm, and my sister comes running upstairs. Turns out the toilet and sink in the downstairs bathroom was stopped up, and when she put Drano down the drain, the -- how should I put this? -- "stuff" started coming up the shower drain. The entire shower floor was covered in "stuff." (I don't have to get specific, do I?)

So I called my brother, who, God bless him, came over right away. We plunged the toilet and the shower drain, which released the clog, but the pipes were still stopped up. So we unscrewed them and had to -- by hand, mind you -- remove all the "stuff" that was blocked from going out the pipe.

Yes, there I was, with little yellow gloves on my hands, removing "stuff" from the pipes into a bucket, then taking it out to the sewer to discard it.

And so now, when you think of the phrase, "That smells like shit," you will think of me.

(I don't know why I bothered writing "stuff" for the entire posting and then just using the word "shit," but there you go.)

I took a nice, long, hot shower last night, but I can't get the smell out of my brain. I hope to God I don't smell, but you never know, do you? Maybe I'll go ask someone, but then how would I explain the question? Ah, never mind, if I do smell like, well, shit and someone has a problem with it, too bad. I had my hands full (ha!) last night.

You know the saying "You're only as old as you feel?" Whoever came up with that lied.

My sister was feeling under the weather today, so I took the day off work and went to the doctor with her. He gave her some prescriptions, so I went to the pharmacy with her. They said it'd take about an hour, and she had to get to work, so I told the pharmacist I'd pick them up for her. The pharmacist looks at my sister and says, "Oh, ok, so your mom will pick them up in about an hour."

Sigh.

Granted, my sister is 12 years younger than I, but really, her mom?!?

My sister quickly corrected her, and the pharmacist was mortified. She turned beet red and got flustered, apologizing over and over. "No big deal," I said. "You just made a sale. I'm now going to check the anti-aging creams."