Things My Brain Is Thinking About When No One is Looking – Part X


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  • It really kills my buzz when I’m nailing a keynote presentation at 2am, blasting my Spotify playlists and “Do You want to Build a Snowman?” comes on.
  • I’m in love with the Drum Solo program that the next door toddler music school is hosting for the next few months at 9am on Saturdays.  I also love sarcasm.
  • Excavating my apartment of stuff for the last few months has been primal.  Cookbooks, unflattering cashmere sweaters, gone. Some people have a disease called “Never Enough.” Now if I have to dust it, it’s not here. Except for my tube of toothpaste Halloween costume, because that shit is historically the bomb.
  • I might’ve spent last night viewing YouTube videos on mares giving birth for, like, 3 hours.  I will deny it if on the stand.  But I still can’t get over that we, humans and animals alike, make little mini things in our bellies that look like us.  THINK ABOUT IT, PEOPLE.
  • I’m going to embrace a little more French culture – like drinking and smoking regularly.  Minus the smoking, that shit is disgusting.
  • My whole “respond, don’t react” mantra has fallen by the wayside.  I’m back to my angry NYC self again. Gross. Things happen to us, but it is our reactions that matter. “Quiet your face, Eileen” as my mom says.
  • I have a feeling that something about floor humping (“fumping” I’ve decided, for short) to Magic Mike’s “Pony” 6 week dance class might release some of my inhibitions. If I had any left.
  • Yeah I don’t.
  • A slick of perfectly applied red lipstick will make you walk taller. Try it.
  • I just spun my globe to see where I should travel next.  Unfortunately, it wasn’t Prague. Bering Sea, anyone?
  • I’m still obsessed with Anthony Weiner. There I said it. Not in a sexual way, more in a WTF way.  But, seriously, surprisingly impressive. Again, in a really WTF way.
  • I still cringe involuntarily when I see Disney paraphernalia.  I miss it, hate it, love it, and want to burn it down, and am so proud for their accomplishments. It’s like that drunk relative that won’t stay out of jail.  You hate to love them. But you root for them, and want to be a part of their lives again. But also, roll your eyes when they speak.
  • Screw you, Tom Hiddleston, for desecrating my 4 year crush on you. And I like Tay – I’ve even been on her 1989 tour.  But, I’m pissed. Admittedly…possibly unreasonably pissed for a gal in her late 30s reading TMZ. But still. I’m moving on from you.
  • I was told by a random “psychic” on the street that my dog was worried about my relationship status, and told me to write down all the things I want in a mate and then burn it.  I ACTUALLY DID THIS – because who am I to say that a random gal doesn’t have super powers that reach the infinite plains of our Universe?  But I digress.  So I did it and really the most important thing on the list might be “gives good hugs.”
  • I love the word “bustle.”
  • I had a handyman mount my tv the other day, and he reminded me that the dust in my apartment is mainly skin cells, and I didn’t refill his coffee. Because eff you, Nate.  Things should go unsaid.
  • I thought I was too old for IKEA when I turned 30.  Apparently, as of yesterday, I am not.  Hello, coffee table! Or as I call it: dinner table / candle holder / frame displayer / purveyor of daily cheese plates.
  • Damn it, “Let it Go” just came on.  Time for some new playlists.  Adios, readers, Spotify calls.

 

PS – Despite not writing for ages, not hard to believe there’s nine prior to this one.

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