Without a dinosaur costume, I went with RBF for Senior Night on the high school football field in a monsoon.
While watching movies from my personal Halloween playlist, it occurs to me that I need to compile a list of movies that would be vastly improved by eliminating the soundtrack and replacing it with something that actually enhances the movie. I have two for the list already:
It’s not a big enough data set to form a hypothesis, but I suspect that the bad soundtrack movies are going to have the 1980s in common.
I was this many years old when I realized that the literary/movie/TV trope about vampire bite victims/partners orgasming during bloodletting is a romanticised version of autoerotic asphyxiation.
When the husband wanders off for a distraction free phone call, I pause whatever we’re watching in out rare hour of together while awake and not too busy time. With the pause, comes the screensaver. I love the Roku pink and purple movie iconography screensaver that feels like being inside a rotating image lamp. They should do a sequel. It’s the hidden pictures page from Highlights Magazine for boring people.
“I’m going to participate in NaNoWriMo. You should do it too so we can be accountability partners.”
Why can’t it be something effortless, like No Shave November? Except, not that because I don’t make a good Sasquatch.
My dog has a few behavioral quirks.
- She collects kitchen utensils and silverware if they are drying on the counter or soaking in the sink.
- She buries silverware in the couch cushions.
- Knows what “sit” means, but only does it when she sees a reward In your hand.
- Out of control happiness jumping and licking when someone walks in the house. Flops On the floor and goes to sleep when they start getting ready to leave.
- The cats bring her their toys and she eats the furry mice and crinkle balls. She brings the cats her toys and they ignore them.
- Likes to carry socks around in her magically stretchy cheeks. Her checks are like Stretch Armstrong, but her jaws lock down like a vise grip on the sock, cat toy or silverware you’re trying to remove from her mouth.
- Needs gravy (bone broth) on her food or she has digestive issues. This makes no sense.
- Will use only one path to get on our bed. If the path is blocked, then she won’t get on the bed.
- If you stare in her eyes and speak sternly, she barks at you. A single bark.
Omg, my dog is a teenager.
At least one weekend a month, the husband is away on a scout or work trip. A few weeks ago, his away weekend coincided with all of the children being on adventures of their own. Home alone with no transportation, I read all day and overindulged in the evening.
Instead of passing out like a normal person, I found myself in our old people bed with the foot and head raised from a day of book luxury. With no keeper, I was too wasted to find the remote to lower the bed for sleep.
I slept sideways in the bed, curled up so that my feet wouldn’t dangle over the edge for underbed monsters to eat. I woke stiff, uncomfortable and extremely confused as to why I was sleeping in a bed taco.
The remote sat on my side table. It laughed at me.
I cancelled Kindle unlimited because I couldn’t justify the expense. Then, I tried the books that are free if you have Amazon Prime since the husband is a Prime member. Most of the Prime books were the first in a series, but they were complete stories if you focused on the main plot and ignored the larger, world building background stuff. Annoying, but tolerable… until today. Today, the book ended on a gun pointed at someone’s head cliffhanger. I am not a happy camper.
“Why do you buy books when there’s so much free stuff available to read?” Because the free books are like a syringe without the insulin. Incomplete.
‘Do you like your child’s SO?’ I’m asked this question with surprising regularity and it still surprises me. If the person my child is seeing is making them both happy, that’s as deep as I need to think about it. It’s their relationship.
When the SO willingly makes a website for my child’s cat, with a light sarcasm that is sweet instead of snarky, well I can’t help but find the relationship extra charming.
A small part of our family oddness is explained by the reminder that we once had five children living in this 1 1/2 bath house with the world’s tiniest hot water heater tank. To keep the washer and dryer running whenever someone wasn’t bathing, it was more efficient to have separately colored laundry baskets where everyone sorts their own dirty laundry. Once the routine began, it took hold and even though we’re a smaller household, the laundry is still *your responsibility.
I’m not saying who, but sooomebody over here needs to take that online colorblind test again. Those white socks will never belong in the bright basket. Why are black shorts in the bright basket? Do you only see one basket?
Did your peripheral vision disappear!?
*I’m the bad parent on this one. I can only tolerate it accumulating on the floor for so long before I have to violate your personal space and collect it. As a result, I’ve been scolded repeatedly with nonsense about not washing jeans that I am not willing to accept. Nope. Jeans are not magically exempt from basic hygiene. I wanted to post a video of Antonia Rey demanding dirty jeans here, but it wasn’t available without some editing and honestly it just seemed like a silly way to spend my time when I have unfinished books so, watch the song, then enjoy her performance.