I had forgotten how bad the song “My Humps” by the Black Eyed Peas is. It’s like a car crash in your Chardonnay. In the past year I’ve only been paying attention to Jeff Tweedy’s (of Wilco) renditions of BEP and I think I will go back to that existence because it’s way funnier. Here, go see it. Don’t watch the original afterwards. It will just make you sad for humanity all over again.
I feel this overwhelming solidarity whenever I see another woman my age with grey hair. I want to go fist-bump-five her.
We went to a parade today and it occurred to me that parades are like a very passive Halloween. Kids sit and watch people go by and some people come over and hand the kids candy. In Ontario, Arlo is quick to point out, they THROW candy at you. (we went to a tractor parade on his birthday in Ontario last year)(and it’s true. They did throw candy.) I guess this relates to the softness of the west coast in general.
June 1st is the beginning of the last month of school. Here is a funny post about that. Which you have probably already seen because it’s had 4,000 likes on facebook already.
It being June 1st also means Arlo’s 7th birthday is one month away. I want to embrace the idea of planning his birthday party and have it be the challenge mountain I overcome / climb for the month of June but I think it will probably end up more like me lying at the bottom of said challenge mountain in a pile of poison ivy, weeping. Metaphorically speaking.
I used to be ashamed of myself for going to bed so early. But now I just shrug because I love sleep and sleep loves me and we are going to be together forever and you can’t break us up, no never.
Today I found myself critiquing the parade we went to, compared to the parade we attended last weekend. This is the new thing I’m ashamed of myself about.
*edited to add that of course this is only post number 6 / 100 and I am so tired I titled it with a 7 by mistake.
I had never heard of or seen the original My Humps song until after I saw this version by Alanis Morissette. And without the context it was horrifying. Once I discovered it was a parody I stopped having chest pains.
How early do you go to bed? I’m dying of curiousity. Metaphorically speaking. Erm. Metaphorically typing.
** fist bump ** from another lady going grey.
I usually go upstairs at 9 and read until 9:45. I have been pushing it later lately but it feels sad to go to bed before it’s dark. Then I get up and there are these long conversations in my tweetstream that took place at 11, 12, 1 AM! Oh, night owls. I salute you.
Just to clarify: it was still horrifying, but it was also funny.