My train of thought today – I really should use my power for good.
- Those Runners’ World magazines that continue to be delivered are proving to be very handy as beer coasters.
- Tonight is bar trivia night. I lerve trivia. And I know stupid shite like Debbie Gibson’s middle name (Ann), that a rat can last longer without water than a camel (longtime NYC residents unite!), and that Leonardo da Vinci could write with one hand and draw with the other simultaneously. More importantly, my team’s name is “We Don’t Care about Your Kids,” and I didn’t even name it! Ah, kindred spirits.
- It’s possible I’m wearing mom jeans today. I can’t decide. I suppose if their fashion status is questionable, the answer is yes.
- Speaking of mom, I’ve been evolving these past two years into her clone. Habitually, I use the word “slacks” instead of pants, calls people “pills” when they’re being annoying, and strongly believe that “Nothing good happens after midnight.” I go through two books a week on tape and constantly tell Mac the dog that “the kitchen is closed” whenever he looks at me and wants more food. It’s like instead of Revenge of the Sith, it’s Revenge of the Sheila. She always said we’d end up like her.
- Speaking of Star Wars, why are they making three more Star Wars movies? I love me some J.J. Abrams and all, but why, why are we doing this? Have we learned nothing between the years 1999 – 2005? It’s like that saying, “Fool me once, shame on me. Fool me twice, and I will toilet paper the entire campus of Lucasfilm.”
- As an unemployed person, I have a request (and let me point out that I know you mean well and are being polite). BUT – please stop asking me “And how is the job search going?” It’s unsettling and makes me want to hit the bottle. I WILL TELL YOU. Thankfully, through this process I’ve learned that “I am not my job,” because losing a job would mean that I, too, as a human being are lost. Even though this identity struggle has not yet involved barbiturates, it kind of makes my self-esteem plunge south. Then I want to ask the following of you:
- How is your parents’ divorce going?
- How is that STD treating you?
- Lose that last ten pounds yet?
- Did you get fired?
- When are you ever going to get married?
- Or my favorite…. Are you pregnant?
Again, I know you mean well. Thank you. I recognize your well-meant interest in my personal and professional well-being. Now stop.
- Why in the sam hell (another ‘Sheila-ism’) are iphones made of glass? We put men on the moon 60 years ago, but we are making our phones out of GLASS? Things we poke at while jogging, shove to the bottom of our purses, and give kids to distract themselves. Glass. We childlock a shoe closet, but we give our children in a high chair a glass object with which to throw around. Fortunately, when I got my iPhone5, I remembered I was a klutz and signed up for the “I will definitely drop this within the next 3 minutes” insurance, and so only had to pay a small fortune to get it replaced. If I can offer you any advice (in addition to “Never get involved in a land war in Asia”), get the monthly insurance. Because Steve Jobs didn’t like plastic.
- Speaking of Jobs, have you seen the trailer for the Ashton…oh, I can’t be bothered, I have to get ready for trivia night.