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pass the confetti
11/22/2005 = 05:24 PM

Conversation of the Week:

That Man of Mine: You know I'm a general pain in the ass.
Me: I don't think you rank as high as general. But I'm willing to concede that you're a major pain in the ass.

I feel guiltier about not feeling guilty about it being this easy, than I do about it being this easy.

Read it again. It's abysmal writing, but it describes how I feel, which is all I'm looking to do at this point.

Runner-up Conversation of the Week (overheard, not participated in):

Coworker on phone: It's the exact same redundant thing, over and over again.

I can't think of a single comment to add here that wouldn't be ... you know.

I figured out what they call the Pope's pajamas:

His Comm-Union Suit.

(My silly was at a friend's house, but as soon as I threatened it with no dessert, it dropped the game paddle and skyed right on home. Good silly. Have a cookie.)

Dear Spritzer of Designer Imposters:

If you're not standing near me, I oughtn't to be able to smell your perfume. You've got an itchy atomizer-finger.

Furthermore, if potential backers were to be basing their investment decisions on your fragrance, they'd think we were selling whores, not wares.

Save the skank-stank for after work. 'Cos, damn.

Sincerely,

Golf "It's Not So Much the Smell As It's the Burning In My Eyes" Widow

Chatty B. Tawkin made a good post about terms for people of ethnicity other than Caucasian, whatever they personally choose to be called, and if you think I'm going to put a label on someone because of his skin tone, think again. (Or, in some cases, think for the first time. Whichever.) Please. I have enough labels for people based on how annoying they are; I can't be arsed to color-code them as well. What do I look like, a relational database?

The Great Purple One Who Has Never Been And Never Will Be Known As Prince also addressed issues of bigotry in her journal recently.

As for Zen, she's blissfully oblivious to everything right now, and I, for one, am revelling in her joy.

Anyway.

When I was a tiny kid, I heard the lady down the street complaining that "colored" people were moving into our neighborhood.

I was really excited. I thought they'd be striped, like Easter eggs: pink and blue and yellow and green.

They were just kids with darker skin. Pfft. We bike-rode with them a lot. The older brother, who was big — I think, eleven or twelve — could hit a wiffle-ball so hard it would break. I used to share my rollerskates with the younger of the two girls — we'd each wear one and push with the other foot.

Their hair was soft and fluffy, and I liked to touch it. My roller-skating partner liked to touch mine, too, because it was smooth. She would try to braid it, but it was so fine it would slip right out. Finally she'd give up and say my hair was sorry hair, and we'd get back on our bikes and move on with our busy every-day-is-Saturday-in-summer schedules.

Didn't see a single Easter egg.

But that lady down the street was pretty well cracked.

Whilst surfing random blogs, I read the following:

"I like to read a poem by Kerouac every morning when I get up."

I like to bob for coffee every morning when I get up. I'm not any good at being erudite.

I spend a lot of time counting my blessings, because that's an occupation that keeps me from turning into the Biggest Ball of Whine in New England.

Some of what I count as "blessings" wouldn't register on someone else's Bless-o-meter. Shut up. I takes what I can gets.

Dixie had this on her Livejournal, and (wisely) did not tag me, nor will I tag anyone, but if you do it in your place of creativity, I'll give you an after-the-fact linkback here. If you do it in my comments, no crybackage; you already got a link.

But hey, it's Thanksgiving season. Even if you don't write it down somewhere, think about it.

Name five simple pleasures that you like most. Try to be original and creative, and not to use things that someone else has already used.

I personally am aiming for genuine "simple" pleasures as opposed to major blessings here, but you do as you see fit.

1. Antigone Rising. Yay chick-rockers.
2. These.
3. I am definitely going to Ohio next spring, as long as nothing bizarre happens like the Universe coming to an end or terrorists blowing up the Football Hall of Fame. Ohio-ites and people nearby, forewarned is forearmed. Point me toward the brewery districts and I will spare you and your children.
4. Happy Feet. (Thanks to the Spoonperson for scooping this for me. Heh. Spoon scooped.)
5. The Fiesta Tostada at Aunt Chilada's. It takes me five million years to finish but it tastes so good.

drinking: ice water
listening to: Franz Ferdinand, Walk Away
kirsten dunst: stop with the drinky drunkenness. it's embarrassing.