Friday, October 26, 2007

Fun with ipod Shuffle

This is what's played so far this morning:

Sheila E - Glamorous Life (wait while I tease my hair)


Grease Soundtrack - Title track


Coal Chamber - Dreamland (morning music)


Paula Abdul - Forever Your Girl



Elvis - Surrender (off the 30 #1 Hits of course)



Tool - Ticks & Leeches (Who doesn't love Maynard?)



Ashford & Simpson - Solid (..... as a rock!)



Vapors - Turning Japanese (My Golden Boy loves this song)



Atmosphere - Free or Dead (sing it, Slug)



Interpol - Rest My Chemistry (how did this even get in here?)



Scott Weiland - Where's the Man? (Scott's my dad.... long story)



Cold - Send in the Clowns (Whatever happened to Scooter?)



Yeah Yeah Yeahs - Bang (rock on)



George Michael - Careless Whisper (Stop acting like you don't know that song)



Norah Jones - I've Got to See You Again (I love Norah)



Now playing: 2pac - Holla if Ya Hear Me (Tupac was spotted at a KFC is Tacoma last week)

Wednesday, October 24, 2007

Green Eyeshadow and Other Random Thoughts

1. The mouse lived. Clementine, my demented and defective cat, is stalking the pantry now, waiting for it to come out.

2. My outfit looks like it was chosen by a blind person or a stylist with rage disorder. It's 5 shades of black and just isn't working. My sweater is itchy and my skirt is 3 inches too short.

3. Belly was sure he was Spiderman last week. Now he's a Transformer. He lays on the floor in the fetal position and says, "I'm a car." then jumps up yelling, "Shing! Ching! Fwing!" and is suddenly Optimus Prime. But you can just call him Sybil.

4. Dogs don't like celery, but mine will eat raw onions.

5. This morning I thought green eye shadow was a good idea. I was wrong.

Monday, October 22, 2007

Hey, Mouse Breath!

Friday night was movie night at the kids’ school, so after our refugee day, we met up with a friend and went to see The Nightmare Before Christmas. The kids set up sleeping bags on the floor in front of the screen, ate hot dogs and popcorn, and had fun. My friend and I talked about a few women there that we went to high school with – amazing the stuff you suddenly remember when you start talking about it. Not all of it good, but most of it is terribly funny. If you have any juicy stuff on people from Lane, c/o 1996, pass it along! Jail time, nobel prizes, multiple baby daddies – bring it.

Saturday was Girl’s Night. The restaurant was pretty busy when we got there and I’m pretty sure our foul mouths – and not to mention Captain Cleavage and her indecent exposure! – ran off the other customers. Then we went to a friends beautiful condo with a view of the Hancock building (in the middle of winter, on a very clear day, if you stand on your toes) and really got into the spirit of the evening. We scared 2 younger girls out of ever having children. We yakked about mortgages and jobs. My god how old we must have sounded! This particular Girl’s Night was in the city… smack in the middle of Chicago. The suburbanites got excited when the police beat someone up out in front, then searched the area for contraband. After waving off my ride home, I eventually called a cab and tip toed in to find DH playing video games and not noticing my absence. Ah, love.

Sunday was a quiet day. Until – there’s always a catch! – my husband opened the pantry and saw a mouse scurry away. He asked me to bring Clementine, my demented and defective cat, over to catch it. I said, “She’s not a mouser! She’s not going to catch it!” Well she proved me wrong. Took her 3 seconds to nab the little thing. I picked her up and told my husband to take the mouse away and put it outside. Instead she drops it on the floor, it tries to run and leaves a bloody trail behind it. I put her back down and she got the mouse again. Picked her back up to take her outside, she dropped it again. This time though, the wounded little guy ran into the small hole in the frame where a door once hung between the kitchen and laundry room. And I’m sure it’s going to die there, too. So I called it a day, and asked my husband why he can’t simply put down a mousetrap instead of calling in the furry death squad and making the little mouse suffer and die an agonizing death. Walked to my room calling behind me, “And what did that little mouse ever do to you? Huh?” which prompted him to call me a mouse sympathizer. Is that anything like being a commie pinko?