This is Lego in the bathroom. (Yes, that’s what I said.) Sometimes when you innocently walk into the bathroom, you come across this kind of thing on the floor. (Don’t you?) I’m not sure if some terrible battle took place or if they’re here to protect anyone who has to pee. Either way, they’re pretty much heroes.
Don’t judge what I watch. If you think it’s dumb, it’s probably Steve’s (not his real name). He definitely watches dumb stuff. Like “Mistresses.” That’s totally his.
DVR is one of the best inventions. How else can you rack up more stuff to fit into your schedule that is supposed to help you unwind but then you have to try to find the time to watch all that stuff before you fill the capacity of your DVR at which time it deletes the programs at the bottom of the list which you don’t really want to see happen so you feel you must figure out a way to quickly watch them all so you can be relaxed. Wait... What? DVR is one of the best inventions.
Either jeans were waaaaaay better in the 90s or my ass and waist were. I think it’s the former. It’s a total mystery, because I weigh the same as I always have ever since I was 20 and yet things have shifted. Not in an improved way. In my own body, I am seeing echoes of my Grammie’s body. No slam on Grammie, but I am picturing her at 90. I am not 90. This is why I love yoga pants. They are comfortable AND they flatter. Even better, I recently found linen pants with the yoga fold-down waist. Seriously? Most brilliant pants craftsmanship ever, hands down.
I like to participate in contests on sales receipts. Hannaford Supermarket has one from which you can win $2000! I have never personally won. Target has one for $1500 and/or an instant $25 gift card. I have not won that, either. Home Depot, CVS—lots of places do it. Someday I am gonna win even though Steve (not his real name) mocks me for spending time doing these. I prefer to live with hope in my heart. When I win, I am not going to tell him and keep all the money for myself. Is that wrong? Probably not. Or probably. But that’s what he gets for choosing to live with cynicism in his heart.
Only one dollar for all these crappy band-aids! And they're "lucky!" That can't be a bad thing.
My kids fall down all the time. ALL THE TIME. But mostly they only think they hurt themselves. In other words, these wounds are pretty much invisible to the naked eye and even though they think they need a band-aid (or several), they really don’t. So rather than deny them, I buy dollar store band-aids for the imperceptible boo-boos and save the real band-aids for the real ones. (I give out hugs no matter the physical—or metaphysical—nature of the boo-boo.) My kids all have this band-aid thing in common. However when it comes to death, their positions vary. My son just doesn’t want to talk about it. One of my twins periodically whispers in my ear, “When am I gonna die?” and the other one says things like, “Well, I don’t even care when I die. Because I won’t even know I’m dead!” What do death and band-aids have to do with each other? I don’t know. I can’t make all these connections for you.
See how my old girl looks on sadly from the background? You have not been replaced! I am sending you out to pasture for a much-deserved rest!
I will always love you, first and most beloved Starbucks cold cup!
I bought a new reusable Starbucks cold cup. My old girl was just too damaged to keep on keepin’ on. This was not an easy decision, nor one upon which I endeavored lightly. I like my new cup, but I’m not in love with her yet. Give it a little time and I’m sure I will be. You can’t rush these things. I couldn’t bear to throw my old girl away, so she lives in the cabinet. Maybe someday I will be able to let her go.
Ever walk into the living room in your empty house and come across a thing like this? Something very serious is happening here. I don’t know what these ponies are up to, but if Rainbow Dash is in charge, you know it’s gonna be momentous.