Tuesday, May 29, 2012

Blah Blah Blah

This is going to be a list of complete and utter mindless, unhinged thinking. Trash? More random tidbits for your delight. Pointless points. Blabbering. Offensive? Diarrhea of the mouth. A slew of nothing important.

1) Do you ever have the unknown urge to paint your nails a somewhat odd color like yellow? And, you're not completely sure why because you're fully aware yellow is a weird nail polish color. But then you realize, as you turn the last page, that you've been reading a bright yellow book for the last couple days. Ooooooh! Thaaaaat's why.


2) Oh my god. Ok, so the book I just finished reading that I was referencing in #1 was something I also talked about in a very recent post - a book called "This is How" by Augusten Burroughs. Obviously it's yellow (if you haven't made that connection yet, you're too dumb to even be reading this dumb yammering, so just go sit in the corner). But, right before I read that, I read the book "The Help"...which was, you guessed it, also yellow! Oh-M-Gee. The mind works in mysterious ways I suppose.

3) Do you have those bands or albums (I know I can't really say 'albums' since I'm not thaaaat old, but I'm going to because saying "CDs" or "tapes" sounds majorly stupid) or songs that really bring you back to your high school days or 'glory days' or whatever you want to call them? The moment you hear them, you can remember exactly what you were doing and feeling the very first time you heard them? Album-wise, there are two CDs that really do this for me. Probably more if I really wracked my brain thinking harder about it. But, I'm not going to. So, these two CDs are Ben Harper's "Fight for your mind" and Rusted Root's "When I woke". Don't ask me why because I don't think I particularly listened to them all that much, but they resonate with me just the same. Maybe it's because they were good CDs to listen to in the car...eh, or something like that?

4) This is cheating and is just going to be a continuation of #3. I just didn't want to get you all upset when, in the back of your head, you were all like "gee, #3 is getting awfully long...when is this going to end? I'm feeling antsy" So, hooray, you made it to #4! If I had to choose one band that I felt really summarized my youth, it would have to be Dave Matthews band. Sure, maybe a stereotypical pick for a white girl that grew up in CT but just shush your face. I have the right to choose this band for this very same reason...aaaaand, I've gotten drunk, underage, at so many of his concerts over the years, that I deserve it. And, getting high on train tracks and peeing in the woods countless times has to count for something too.

5) In all honesty though, I'd really choose Neil Young, not Dave Matthews. Not because I've actually been listening to him for longer. But just because it feels like I have. Seems like a silly, small difference, but it's not...not really. 

6) How do girls walk around in high heels? I get the small heels or wedges...even I can manage those. But, I mean the type of high heels that are so grotesque that even looking at them is painful. The kind, that when on your feet, make you walk around like Bambi taking her first steps (Bambi was a girl, right?). Or Cinderella's ugly stepsisters trying to wear her glass slipper. Maybe I don't get it because I've never walked around in really high heels for any length of time. The main reason for that is because I don't generally enjoy bordering on 6'2". Call me crazy. But, seriously, even if I were short, I wouldn't ever wear some of those horrific looking heels because I don't like being in severe pain. Guys get to waltz around in loafers while girls wear stilettos? Oh really? Can we also get a period every month, carry a child around for 9 months, and then push it out our vajay? Ok, cool.

7) Why do people love to talk about themselves so much? Way too many people are way too interested in just hearing themselves talk. I want to be like, dude, ask me a question. And, if you do, listen to the answer. Don't just be thinking about the next thing you're going to say. Geez. It's like, you want to believe everyone is good and nice at the core, but a lot of people aren't. For me, personally, I could maybe handle all that. I maybe could if you weren't also Type A and all extroverted and expressive. If you're a combination of all that stuff, dear Lord. Please, just don't talk to me. I can't handle it.

8) Why are so many people so religious? Aside from the plethora of reasons. 

9) Can everyone please try to keep their baby making to a maximum of like 3 children per household (less would be preferable)? Just because you like litters of children doesn't mean that mother nature does. Population growth is exponential.

10) Gee. I'm fresh out. I should really try to come up with a #10 though because that's such a good number to stop on. Oh! I have a good one. This is a little embarrassing though. 

I drink my tea with a straw. 

I felt the need to separate that line so that it seems like I'm admitting I have a problem. In actuality, I don't care all that much, but half of this blog is just for looks anyway. So, I usually need to have tea each morning to act like a happy person. Not that I really need the caffeine...it's just that I like the flavor and the routine. I really do. I find the whole thing quite enjoyable. It's kind of how I like to have 3 alcoholic drinks before bed (sort of kidding). Anyway, back to the tea. My mom used to give my brother and me tea when we were little. Yep, here kids, have some caffeine at your tender ages. (In retrospect, I guess I shouldn't have been all that shocked when I received Kahlua in my Christmas stocking on my 16th birthday (my birthday is on Christmas Eve)). She claims it was less about the tea and more about the milk. Back then, we still thought milk was healthy, and my brother and I weren't big fans of milk, but apparently we liked tea?? Lol. So, my mom would make it with mostly milk and a little bit of tea/sugar, and we would happily slurp it down with straws. It even became a nightly saying...my brother would yell into my room from his..."Goodnight Em, love you, see you in the morning, drinking tea!" Yeah, I know, so fucking cute your heart is going to fall out, right? Well, that's what we'd do. He had a blue straw. I had a pink one. We'd drink our tea in the morning, read the fucking newspaper together before school, and we were also quite fond of dunking graham crackers in there. Sheer delight. Anyway, sadly, I've never been able to break the habit. Thanks mom. Actually, it's really not her fault I've taken it this far. I don't know what's wrong with me. I can drink tea without a straw. Yeah sure, fine, whoop-dee-doo. But, the enjoyment factor shoots down majorly low. With the straw, cloud nine. Cloud nine, I tell ya.

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