Anyhoo... I was thinking today about possible blog post topics and have decided that a good old reliable numbered list is the way to go. I've been really busy lately and will share with you lessons learned during some of my various adventures, in no particular order:
1. I have very little in common with women who describe experiences having to do with their uteruses (uter-i? - is there a plural for uterus? anyone?), childbirth, menopause, or a particularly rough menstrual cycle as their "journey".
Stop it. A four Pamprin cramp day does not qualify as a "journey". Also, I don't care how long you were in labor or how much you sweat in your sleep - stop saying "journey".
2. Speaking of "Journey" - I do not care for 80's Night. A few weeks ago MDH and I went out on a Saturday night with our friend Rachel and her new-ish husband Dave to something here in town referred to as "Mega-Eighties!" Which is the name of the band that plays 80's covers regularly at the giant nightclub we paid $10 per person to enter. The expansive nightclub features rock hard, concrete floors and bathrooms with no stall doors. Already not my cup of tea. (I'm a snob with sore feet who likes to pee out my cocktails behind closed doors, get over it.)
I'll admit there were some amusing things going on, such as grown women wearing "mall bangs", leg warmers and t-shirts with the neck cut out in an exaggerated "bateau" style, a la Jennifer Beales in Flashdance and men sporting mullet wigs and folded bandanna headbands, a la Loverboy. Cute. I get it. The hairstyles and fashion of the 80's were silly.
Before the band came on there was a DJ playing top 40 hits from the 80's and soon MDH and I collectively remembered that we despised this shitty music back then so why the fuck would we want to experience it again now? Frankly, the thick cloud of pot smoke and the acid induced haze I used to live under didn't really dissipate until well into 1993, so I didn't recognize most of the music anyway.
At this point the tone shifted for MDH and me. We went from being mildly confident, middle aged people to the wildly freakish outsiders we had once been. I, a pale and lonely Smiths worshiping, goth chick and he a pogo-ing, crowd surfing, skate punk. Standing still in the background while watching everyone around us having fun and dancing maniacally to Like a Prayer and Uptown Girl reminded us that we never belonged in this scene, and never wanted to.
We stuck around a little longer when the band finally came on, and also out of respect for Rachel and Dave, 'cause we love them, but I drew the line when the band started belting out a Poison medley and we bugged the fuck out immediately for home where we cleansed our ear holes with Siouxie and the Banshees, the Clash and a little Buzzcocks.
80's Night = Big not again
3. I had something seriously cute and funny planned for #3, but can no longer remember what it was as MDH has just called me from San Francisco, where he is in the middle of a corporate team building thingy, to inform me that he has finally been promoted and that we are moving to Texas. Like now. As in he starts work on Monday. What the fuck? Finally we leave the Tundra. We were only supposed to be here for 2 years and we have been here for 6 years. I suppose now I will have to switch seasons and start bitching about how hot the summers are. Hurray!!!! (I think).
4. Restaurant Impossible is exactly like Kitchen Nightmares, but with less screaming and cursing.
5. 3D is overrated.
6. I have finally learned, after all this time, how to use the shuttle service to get around Large Corporation. I used it all winter to whisk me straight to the door of my building like a 15 passenger magic carpet. I cannot express how great it has been to avoid trudging through the snow on my (literally) 10 minute trek through the Tundra from parking space to desk. You call and they come pick you up. It's awesome.
7. I have turned into a lazy, fat piece of fudge since learning how to use the shuttle service at Large Corporation. At first I vowed only to use it on wet, snowy days when the temperature dipped below 30. Or on days when my ankle was bugging me. Now all it takes is a hangnail and a bit of fog and I'm totally riding that motherfucker with all the other old ladies and fatties.
8. Oh shit - we have to sell this house, pack and move.