Salve for your Ring of Fire
Thursday, Dec. 11, 2008 at 7:18 a.m.
Hi there!
So in case you haven’t noticed, I’ve added a playlist to this diary. I understand that the music is a little scary if you’re not expecting it. That, and the fact that the songs I’ve added tend to be . . . a little loud, I suppose. I like loud music. I was kind of a head-banger-punk-goth-before-it-was-cool kind of person in my younger days (hah! I’m only 37, like that’s decrepit) so I like the loud stuff. In fact, that dance-techno weird thing based on Carmina Burana? The dance group at my grad school danced to that in 1993. Yep, 15 years of weirdness there. I remember cage-dancing to that piece of music on my 30th birthday at Maxwell Anderson’s Estate club in Scottsdale – this was before it became a gay bar. In fact, I need to add Gay Bar by Electric 6 to my playlist. Listen for it at a blog near you.
So last night I was knitting and I had a cat in my lap and then I saw Hubster wander across the room in his baggy sweatpants, and I thought to myself, “Self, tell your Hubster to put this pussy down his pants,” and then I was so tickled by the mental image of dropping the skinny and nervous cat that I had in my lap down his pants that I laughed until I cried. However, since I had never actually uttered the directive to the Hubster regarding his pants and the pussy cat I had on my lap, to him it just seemed I had in fact had some sort of aneurysm and was simply laughing myself to death. Which I don’t think would surprise him one bit. He simply looked at me with that same bemused look he gives me if I say something that just tickled a weird part of my brain or if I had just fallen off a path at the Grand Canyon, smashing the camera into my ribs as I fell. I think I simply tickle his brain in a weird way.
Speaking of my ribs, they are much better now, but still a bit sore. I think I rattled them quite a bit last week with my bout of bronchitis. However, I did go work out for the first time in about 7 weeks and I did quite well. Yay me! I’m still working on losing the 4 pounds I gained on Thanksgiving week (4 pounds! 4! I think it was all that ham!) but I’m not worried. In fact, I’m not worried about the holiday eating at all. As long as I don’t go utterly nuts and gain back the entire 50 pounds I’ve lost, then I’m fine. In fact, if I gain 50 pounds by the end of the year, I think I have much bigger problems than eating too much. I’d rather be worried about how I eat from Christmas to Thanksgiving than the other way around, ne?
So anyway, in order to tickle a weird part of your brain (it’s actually quite nice, kind of like that feeling you get from a little too much Nyquil™), I bring you this item from the newspaper:
Yeah, that’s actually a bit more than just a typo.