I listen to a lot of different kinds of music, and lately my groove has been set to dance music. I like the bouncy beats, the infectious grooves, the whatever, the energy. So I've decided that one of the neatest things that could happen to me would be this:
I'd like to commandeer a nightclub, its lights and sound system, for about thirty minutes. I don't want to do this while anyone's there - I couldn't take the pressure of trying to ensure a good time for all. Plus I think I'm too old for that sort of thing. I've not been to a nightclub in at least eight years and I really have no interest in returning.
Still, I think it would be awesome to queue up what I want to hear in the way it's intended to be heard. Honestly, Lady Gaga and LMFAO and stuff like that are not really meant for a car stereo or the radio in my bathroom. These kinds of tunes are designed for maximum acoustics and noise-spread, and just for a while, I want to hear them that way.
Also: I've become re-addicted to Bejeweled. I blame you, Google Chrome Store.
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Monday, May 28, 2012
Memorial Day Shopping
Last night I took a little pill to help me sleep. I'm one of those who can fall asleep quickly, but cannot stay asleep. This works out just fine if I go to bed at 9, because then the middle-of-the-night panic attack that wakes me and keeps me awake for three hours can't ruin the whole night. But last night, I was really wrecked, so I took the pill at 8:30, went to bed at 10, and was still awake after midnight, reading a book, long after GPOM had tucked me and himself into bed. Glorious.
By 11 this morning, the pill hadn't worn off. I was awake around 7, but stoned until noon. However, this wasn't so bad because I didn't have to meet Momma until one. I made it, only a teensy bit stoned. No driving threat here!
We bought every color of the rainbow T-shirt at the store, and my best find was a fourteen dollar Ralph Lauren shirt. You read that right.
$14 RALPH LAUREN SHIRT. I AM THE QUEEN OF BARGAIN SHOPPING.
Next we went in search of food, but decided that we were above food court "food". This means a trip to Cracker Barrel. No judgment please. I know about its checkered history. I hate its checkered history. But damn, that place can make a mean veggie plate. (Only 40% meat and meat by-products!)
But before then, there was a quick pit-stop at Bath and Body Works, because I was whiny and the only way for Momma to shut me up was to buy me six bottles of foaming hand soap. (Trust me when I tell you it's worth spending the $20 on me. I can be whiny like only an overtired toddler at Disney can be whiny. Plus, I was hungry, so add a missed Disney Princess breakfast to that toddler's attitude, and you're almost close to mine.) On the way out I saw a display of my absolute favorite scent, the Energy Orange and Ginger body wash. It was on sale for $5/bottle, marked down from $13/bottle.
What could I do? I grabbed two, found Momma a place to sit, and went to the checkout. The lady there told me today was the last day of the sale, and if I bought them all, she'd help me to my car. Sixteen bottles and about eighty dollars later, I will smell fantastic through Christmas.
That's a guarantee right there.
By 11 this morning, the pill hadn't worn off. I was awake around 7, but stoned until noon. However, this wasn't so bad because I didn't have to meet Momma until one. I made it, only a teensy bit stoned. No driving threat here!
We bought every color of the rainbow T-shirt at the store, and my best find was a fourteen dollar Ralph Lauren shirt. You read that right.
$14 RALPH LAUREN SHIRT. I AM THE QUEEN OF BARGAIN SHOPPING.
Next we went in search of food, but decided that we were above food court "food". This means a trip to Cracker Barrel. No judgment please. I know about its checkered history. I hate its checkered history. But damn, that place can make a mean veggie plate. (Only 40% meat and meat by-products!)
But before then, there was a quick pit-stop at Bath and Body Works, because I was whiny and the only way for Momma to shut me up was to buy me six bottles of foaming hand soap. (Trust me when I tell you it's worth spending the $20 on me. I can be whiny like only an overtired toddler at Disney can be whiny. Plus, I was hungry, so add a missed Disney Princess breakfast to that toddler's attitude, and you're almost close to mine.) On the way out I saw a display of my absolute favorite scent, the Energy Orange and Ginger body wash. It was on sale for $5/bottle, marked down from $13/bottle.
What could I do? I grabbed two, found Momma a place to sit, and went to the checkout. The lady there told me today was the last day of the sale, and if I bought them all, she'd help me to my car. Sixteen bottles and about eighty dollars later, I will smell fantastic through Christmas.
That's a guarantee right there.
Sunday, May 13, 2012
A Quick Love Note
What, you thought I'd forget to honor my mother today? The woman who gave me life, sarcasm, and a strong sense of my own awesomeness?
I'll thank her for you.
Today I told Momma that the one thing I really wish I had was a cold beer. It's probably been about three months since I've had one. We had a misery-loves-company shopping excursion, where we discovered that everyone else is a pain in the ass and that we are amazing. Driving her home, I mentioned the beer, and she said that she had some, and would I like to take some home with me?
Um...yeah.
So she gave me three Yuengling Lights, while guaranteeing to me that taking three of them was not in fact too greedy, as she had nine left from her pack. I asked her if she thought it would be OK if I just drank one on the road home.
"Well, they're warm..." she said.
I'll thank her for you.
Today I told Momma that the one thing I really wish I had was a cold beer. It's probably been about three months since I've had one. We had a misery-loves-company shopping excursion, where we discovered that everyone else is a pain in the ass and that we are amazing. Driving her home, I mentioned the beer, and she said that she had some, and would I like to take some home with me?
Um...yeah.
So she gave me three Yuengling Lights, while guaranteeing to me that taking three of them was not in fact too greedy, as she had nine left from her pack. I asked her if she thought it would be OK if I just drank one on the road home.
"Well, they're warm..." she said.
Friday, May 4, 2012
Avatar
All right, let's do this. I realize ahead of time that I could upset some people.
Duly noted.
Why in the world do people use pictures of their children as their avatars? It makes absolutely no sense to me. There's a safety issue attached, and there's a real question of priorities as well. Do you not like your own looks? I've had someone use that reason. Are you extra-super-proud of your children? I've heard that one as well.
It makes me wonder if some people lessen their own value in order to elevate their child's. That is a big ol' problem in my view, because not only does it create a heavy burden for a child (if I'm more important than mom or dad, then I must be responsible for him/her as well) but it can also elevate the child's self-esteem to an unhealthy level. I think we've all seen what happens when someone believes his own hype. Those people are freaking annoying.
As an aside, I spoke about this with GPOM, and he concisely stated what I was meanderingly thinking: I'm friends with you, not your kid. And here's the bad news: I don't think your child is as endlessly fascinating as you do. I think your kid's just fine. Hell, I might even like your kid. But you are my friend, you are the one I want to see on the internet, and you are the one I discuss life with.
So show yourself and be yourself.
Duly noted.
Why in the world do people use pictures of their children as their avatars? It makes absolutely no sense to me. There's a safety issue attached, and there's a real question of priorities as well. Do you not like your own looks? I've had someone use that reason. Are you extra-super-proud of your children? I've heard that one as well.
It makes me wonder if some people lessen their own value in order to elevate their child's. That is a big ol' problem in my view, because not only does it create a heavy burden for a child (if I'm more important than mom or dad, then I must be responsible for him/her as well) but it can also elevate the child's self-esteem to an unhealthy level. I think we've all seen what happens when someone believes his own hype. Those people are freaking annoying.
As an aside, I spoke about this with GPOM, and he concisely stated what I was meanderingly thinking: I'm friends with you, not your kid. And here's the bad news: I don't think your child is as endlessly fascinating as you do. I think your kid's just fine. Hell, I might even like your kid. But you are my friend, you are the one I want to see on the internet, and you are the one I discuss life with.
So show yourself and be yourself.
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
Dress Code
First of all, HAI, new blogger interface! Sure would've been nice to get an introduction to you before you moved in, but hey. If I made it through college living with strangers, I can make it living with you. We can get to know each other. Stay up late. Fight about TV channels. Sing songs to try to cover up the dance krewe practicing on our porch until midnight.
Today I went by my folks' place, and my dad was napping. In his underclothes. He woke up when I came in, and scurried to the kitchen to find some real wrappings. (Please don't ask why my father keeps his clothes in the kitchen. That's a question I don't think anyone could answer.)
But watching him scurry, I thought, why are you dressing for me? You didn't dress for your wife, with whom you live. Yet something tells you that lying around in your undergarments in the family room is just fine for her. Made me think of days when GPOM wanders the house in his underwear. Not that he doesn't look great in just that. Maybe I'm just fussy?
When I come home, I immediately change into what I consider "house clothes" - cotton pants and a T-shirt, the first generally from Lands' End and the other from any law school which admitted me or any event I've attended. But if someone were to come by, I wouldn't be completely humiliated. It's my house, I can be bra-less if I choose.
I guess I just don't understand the attire of pure comfort versus the attire of covering up for others.
Today I went by my folks' place, and my dad was napping. In his underclothes. He woke up when I came in, and scurried to the kitchen to find some real wrappings. (Please don't ask why my father keeps his clothes in the kitchen. That's a question I don't think anyone could answer.)
But watching him scurry, I thought, why are you dressing for me? You didn't dress for your wife, with whom you live. Yet something tells you that lying around in your undergarments in the family room is just fine for her. Made me think of days when GPOM wanders the house in his underwear. Not that he doesn't look great in just that. Maybe I'm just fussy?
When I come home, I immediately change into what I consider "house clothes" - cotton pants and a T-shirt, the first generally from Lands' End and the other from any law school which admitted me or any event I've attended. But if someone were to come by, I wouldn't be completely humiliated. It's my house, I can be bra-less if I choose.
I guess I just don't understand the attire of pure comfort versus the attire of covering up for others.
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