Jim and I recently purchased a Roku box and I have been making playlists of all the old shows I watched as a kid in the early eighties. I remember being scared to death of the original Cylons, my dad would make the sound of the red-eye beam thingie. Also I’ve had the theme for Airwolf in my head since Friday. Currently watching the Airwolf pilot episode and it’s still pretty entertaining even after 25 years!
I should be in bed hell I should be asleep. I find that I can’t. I hate this day more so than the eighth. 8 years ago on this day I finally accepted certain aspects of life and death. 8 years later I find I’m feeling the same way. I just want this night to be over.
Actually not. Last night Anonymous and I along with Mr. & Mrs. P went to dinner and a movie since it was Mr. P’s birthday. As we left the cinema after our foray into the world created by the legendary Roddenberry we noticed a huge crowd of kids. The cinema was packed it was opening day for a probable piece of crap Will Ferrell movie and another WhiteCastle/What-happens-in-Vegas/Knocked-up film. High-schoolers perhaps a few undergrads but nonetheless the cinema was buzzing with the sounds of teenagers. I was struck by the language not profanity but the Valley girlish dialogue of teens. I began asking myself “Was I really like that?” the answer was probably yes.
I was also taken aback by the fashion these kids are sporting a mix between the sad-neon-message-shirts of the 1980’s mixed with skinny-emo jeans on males with the crotch somewhere down between the thigh at least the shirt covered everything so no underwear was sticking out. Now I remember this junk from the 80’s and the early 90’s and yes I wore some of it but I hated then! I remember rebelling (due to the fact I hated the stuff and because we had no money to buy clothes) and wearing a pair of white pants my Mom had bought for me at the Goodwill (they were bell bottoms), we should have waited 20 years and I wouldn’t have been laughed at but hey it taught me to fight back (I generally call people names–I still make up nicknames on the fly for people) and not to care what people think. I remember really wanting a HyperColor when I was 11 and after they went out of fashion about 18 months later they were on-sale at Pic-N-Save my Mom bought me three remembering that I had wanted one but was unaware that they were no longer in. Not wanting to offend my Mom I wore them and put up with the teasing and perfected my “don’t give a crap what you say face/attitude”.
I was suddenly glad to be freewheeling down to 30 so I at least I can have an excuse to shop in the Grandma section of Gottschalks. If a teenager gives me lip about my fashion I can fire back “I’m old! Do you really want me in a pair of acid washed jeans and a ripped up T-shirt?” Also it was nearing 10 o’clock and I was ready to pass out. Staying out all night is definetly something for the young, Anonymous and I routinely go to bed around 8 on a Saturday…because we’re old farts. Ah to be young…I’ll leave it to the young.
As a kid I hated Sundays and I still do to some extent. Sunday’s were always boring, no good television (cartoons were always pre-empted with football games) and they always signal the coming of Monday which everyone seems to hate. Today reminds me of those times. Sean if fussy, its too cold for him to play outside so hes miserable and cries over everything. Anonymous has been sick and I thought I had escaped unscathed but this morning I awoke with a sore throat. The ants which I thought I had some modicum of control over doubled their numbers this morning in the kitchen. I hate F$&king ants. Tomorrow will be Monday and another rotation will begin. Sometimes I wish for a constant week without the break of Saturday and Sunday. Sometimes the break is more trouble than its worth.
For some reason curiosity has gotten the better of me. If you are chick or a guy have you ever banged or gotten banged in a car? If so do you remember the make of the car or the colour? If you haven’t is it something you would consider? Do you have a dream car, in a dream spot? I have no idea what possessed me to write this. Perhaps my confinement and pain have gotten the better of my brain. Check the comments for my response.
Today is the anniversary of our family coming to the United States. 22 years..long time.
A few years ago I was a bridesmaid in a wedding. For this particular bride we had her bachelorette party at a day spa. The other fellow bridesmaids and the bride saw it as a day of pampering. To me it was hell on earth! Dodging people left and right, shallow pools filled to capacity, lots of noise, and “beauty professionals” that treated you more like a herd of cattle than human beings. I was asked back then what my idea of pampering was. My response was a day spent in bed playing video games, no chores followed by a nice soak in a bathtub.
Years later my idea of pampering has changed a bit. Now I would like nothing more than to shave my left leg in a nice bubble bath and have a good nights sleep. Coupled with Anonymous and Sean having a great time doing whatever it is that they consider pampering. As you can see my bar is set pretty low.