Solitary Company
This got me so motivated and focused – so much that I forgot to blog all week, but whatever. I’ve watched this 90 times in two days, though I may be exaggerating. It is hilarious. Please watch this and understand that I should have written this, or had children with this man, or stalked him until he got a restraining order against me. Something memorable.
Hat tip to Jon Auer for the link. While you’re at it, go buy tickets to the David Bowie tribute or Jon’s upcoming show at The Croc – which will be my first time there since it re-opened. Introverted Nerd Alert!
People laugh in my face when I say I’m kind of introverted. Maybe I’m more of an isolationist, but I think they’re just mistaking ‘loud’ and ‘opinionated’ for extrovertedness. If that’s even a word.
Convo: Tampon Theft
Snotty: (sigh) Great, I left the tampons in the car.
Esq: There should be a box in the bathroom cupboard.
Snotty: No, it’s empty.
Esq: Then it should probably be taken out and thrown away.
Snotty: But what if someone comes in looking to steal some tampons? They’ll be totally thwarted!
Esq: That’s perfect, except that someone is going to be you.
Convo: Candyland Gang
We had just gotten home when a gaggle of girls walked by our house at 2AM. They were loud, as teenagers are, and in their flannel pajamas; swinging by their sides were bags filled to the brim with goodies. They employed a pleasant running chatter, punctuated by laughter and shrieking and “OH MY GOD!” It made me wistful for my teenage days of public pajama-wearing and junk food consumption by the bagful (not to mention faster metabolism and a fear of nothing and slumber parties). It was kind of sweet.
Me: Oh, look at that – they went to 7-11 for junk food in their jammies! That makes me feel so old and happy for them.
Esq: Because they went to a convenience store at two in the morning?
Me: Because they had nothing to do on a Saturday night and will probably get diabetes.
Esq: This is America…
Happy Marriage + Hot Sauce
An email response from Yours Truly:
Gosh, a new husband! That makes me want one – and say shit like ‘gosh,’ apparently. Nerrrd.
No problemo, we’re gonna get this place in order and invite away – it still looks like ground zero. Well, it doesn’t look like a terrorist attack aftermath, but you know what I mean. Yesterday I accidentally brushed my teeth with hand soap. I need to humanize the place.
Happy marriage + hot sauce, you’re a Mrs! You looked so pretty on your wedding day, like cherries jubilee with a side of bacon. The dancing bacon was hilarious – I’m renting you guys for my wedding someday.
Speaking of which: you can’t tell a soul, and not just because this is ridiculous, but my secret ‘I’m totally doing this at my wedding no matter who I marry‘ is to …[redacted]… So, having a bunch of people …[redacted]… if that’s still en vogue (I think ahead) – could only be better WITH …[redacted]… I should have all the breakfast elements represented! …[redacted]… Hey, I’m a planner.
Congratulations on your solemn oath-swearing. Any kind of swearing is good at a wedding, especially in Vegas. I even tweeted about it! The video was lovely.
If a ’staycation’ (HATE THIS WORD) is a stay-at-home vacation, then what is a stay-at-home honeymoon? A… stayneymoon? Ever the pithy wordsmith, I. A honeyhome? A honeyhome. (LOVE THIS WORD)
Happy Honeyhome! I do believe I’ll post this on my blog – I’ve never enjoyed one-sided talking to anyone more than you.
XO
I sent this yesterday to my bacon mistress and, after reading it, I’m convinced I talk like Liz Lemon. Which is to say, I’m a curly-haired, Type A lunatic.
I love blog posts that have [redacted] in them; it feels like I’m a soldier at war with dangerous information.
How To Report The News
Thanks to Ben for posting this on his Bookface page. Truth is often funnier than fiction.
Convo: Dating the Dead
Snotty: You’re an unhealthy color.
Esq: It’s cold downstairs.
Snotty: No, you’re an unhealthy pallor. You’ve gone from color to pallor.
Esq: I didn’t realize I had any color.
Snotty: You’re like Edward-from-Twilight color.
Esq: Isn’t that romantic?
Snotty: Yes, I love dating the dead and the untalented.
30POV
I’m a monthly contributor over at 30pov.com. January theme: Awakenings. New post: I Woke Up At The End.
Spare Any Change?
There are cravings of all kinds at this hour; I’d say I’m having most of them right now. In no particular order, I’m craving: movies, men, furniture, freedom, hugs, literature, chocolate, canvas, shoes, smokes, cupcakes, linens, a washer and dryer, fake chicken, love, sleep, a bubble bath, and a foot rub. I’d like at least half of those right now, but it looks like I’ll be getting, in no particular order: movies, smokes and possibly a bath. But I’ll probably be too lazy to draw one.
So said I in January 2006. What has changed since then?
I download movies now, thanks to the kickass guy I’m living with (movies + men, check!). In the three years we’ve been together, he’s given me hugs, love, literature, furniture, foot rubs, shoes, and freedom, so cross those off the list. I’ve got plenty of canvas for painting, thanks to the cleaning out of my closet, and there’s a washer/dryer in our new home – check and check. There’s real chicken in the fridge – for dinner tonight – and ingredients for homemade chocolate cupcakes (which I always have on hand, or else what’s the point of life?), so checkity-check. Plus I kicked the cancer sticks for good in 2009 (for reals!) and my linen situation is decent. Double-check. I wonder what it means to be the type of person who is conscious of and gives a shit about their ‘linen situation’ (ex: Martha Stewart), but I don’t want to know. It doesn’t bode well.
Sadly, we don’t have a bathtub, just a European shower. But I can give up the bubbles in exchange for the rest. It’s weird how time flies.
Imaginary Critic
Chris Burlingame – music writer/reviewer extraordinaire – had a birthday yesterday. So let’s throw him in the fire with a special post-birthday interview ambush! Interviewers are rarely the interviewee, and he’s a pretty interesting cat. I also want to promote his now 31-year old arse (an arse that is single, by the way) – hey, it always pays to network.
Chris is a poptimist. It sounds like a gay, made-up word because it is a made-up word, though I don’t know its sexual orientation; so many of these hybrid words go both ways. I don’t know the exact definition of a poptimist, but I do know Chris would approve of what I’m listening to right now (Britney!), and what I’ll be listening to later (Vampire Weekend! Goldfrapp! Phoenix! Lily!). It’s hard to find men who appreciate pop music as thoroughly as Chris does; he’s downright reasonable – persuasive, even. His arguments for the genre are always thoughtful and convincing, though he hasn’t converted me to Taylor Swift (yet). I mean, she’s as cute as a button – a perfect, shiny, alabaster button that has a picture of a newborn baby lamb embracing a newborn baby squirrel on it – and she seems very genuine, but I remain unconvinced. I’m sure she cries rainbow-colored tears and smells like pink cotton candy, I just never vibed with her music.
And yet. AND YET. There I was, just last night, listening to the Taylor Swift song he put on his Top 10 Year-End list – with the volume turned wayyyy down, and an extra tab opened in the browser (something to cover up the evidence quickly) – because I figured it couldn’t totally suck if Chris had recommended it. We have similar tastes in music and I trust him enough to try out what he’s listening to. Taylor Swift’s song, to my serious dismay, was catchy and cute like I thought it would be - an adorable story sung with “spunk” and “feeling.” It wasn’t the kind of country music I normally get behind (old school – the older, the better) – but it wasn’t the water-boarding I’d imagined, either. I actually thought, while listening to the song, ‘What if I perish right now? What if I just keel over and die, with no explanation? My body will be found next to my PC, which will have a Taylor Swift video displayed on the monitor. What if people think it was a favorite song of mine, and out of respect for the last few moments of my life, they play that song at my funeral?’ I was also thinking about tacos, though that was unrelated.
