So, some of my friends, as well as I, have a unique sense of humor. Since Facebook comments has replaced getting together to watch television “events,” we create groups or pages so friends can leave comments on threads about the Oscars or TV movies. Last night I was invited to a group to snarkily review “Petals On the Wind,” the sequel to “Flowers in the Attic,” which is a novel most of us read in middle or high school for the scandalous nature of it. A couple of months ago, there was a TV movie made for it and BOY, was it cray cray. In case you aren’t familiar, incest is a topic in the novel and movie (no, they don’t show anything in the movie, we’re not pervs, people).
Well, my satellite went out and I couldn’t see it. I know, so sad.
And the only comment I left on the Facebook event page was “my satellite is out, so I’m out.” I didn’t think anything about it for the rest of the night because my husband and I found something on Netflix to watch and I looked up chalk painted cabinets on Pinterest.
This morning I had a friend request from someone and I approved it because I figured it was a friend of a friend.
Then this happened this afternoon.
Oh, Andy. You should start with “I saw you in the incest sex room” in all conversations.
Y’all, I moved to Texas two months ago and have felt exactly like this every day:
Say “everything’s bigger in Texas” one more time.
Our closing was postponed by 5 days while our possessions were on a truck along with my suitcase, because I AM A GENIUS. During that time we had the Mother-in-Law staycation, while we were homeless because all of our possessions were on a truck and we couldn’t close on the new house yet because we hadn’t closed on the old house. During MILStaycation, I had exactly two McDonald’s apple pies, two TCBY mint chocolate chip shakes, a bunch of sunflower seeds, 42 cups of coffee (half were iced), and bites of ham and cheese. That was my diet for a week. Super health nut, I know.
And so, we moved to Texas. Three children, one husband, and one basset hound, The Honorable Former Judge Lucille Brown of the Great State of Mississippi. This is the house.
It kind of looks like a painting, but it’s real. I have real landscaping with real roses and oleander in the backyard. I have a courtyard that I can lock, so no one can actually come to my front door if I so desire. Suck it, trick or treaters.
Here are half of the light switches for my open concept living/kitchen. Yes, I’ve been watching way too much HGTV and I have open concept everything in my home. And granite and wood and tile floors. Just once I want the people on House Hunters to say “UGH! Granite countertops?! I want butcher block counters and wall-to-wall linoleum, textured wallpaper and all vertical blinds.”
I have no idea what turns on what.
Like I said, we have a dog. She’s a hound dog. We got this note stuck in the gate of our courtyard after being in our new neighborhood for one week.
First, I do not respect someone who writes in Arial and prints a note to a neighbor in landscape mode. Yes, let me adjust my seven-year-old hound dog’s morning routine for you. Is there anything else I can do? Do the tiny yippy dogs not bother you? Just my hound dog? And, she did not howl for 30 minutes; I am home every weekday until 7:40 and I would never let her howl for more than a couple of minutes. Also, I do tutoring for English/Grammar if you’d like to drop by. No, I don’t – I hate people, but seriously – it’s called proofreading.
Because we are such wonderful pet owners, we decided to adopt a kitten. Actually two kittens, but one died due to Fading Kitten Syndrome. I promise I am not making this up. This is the kind of shit that happens to me because of course it does. This is F. Catz Fitzgerald.
We have the same color hair.
We adopted Fitz the day before Easter. Guess what? There was a note waiting on my car when we happily carried the kitten to come home with us. Texas hates my guts. Texas couldn’t hate my guts more if I punched the ghost of Ladybird Johnson. The Ghost of Ladybird Johnson is my new band’s name, by the way. Here is the note from the person who hates my parking.
Yes, they wished me a happy Easter and drew a picture of what may be a happy sun. You should know that I was parked far away from any other cars in the parking lot and there were no other cars around me when I returned to my car. I do not understand the Texas Notewriters, but I suppose I need to carry stationery in my car just in case. Hell, I’m putting one of my typewriters on the dashboard, baby. Y’all are going to get real notes – and I’ll sign them with my name, not anonymously as if I’m writing for the greater good of society. Bitches. Of course, I’m not going to do this because I’m in Texas and everyone has a handgun, shotgun, and grenades in their trucks and I’m afraid of them. I mean, THIS is an ambulance.
Really, this is around the corner from my subdivision. Everything in Texas is on steroids. It’s not that things are bigger, it’s that they’re on steroids and have major anger issues. As well as other issues. Even the art is angry. What do you expect when this is a painting in my new favorite restaurant?
Texas came in like a wrecking ball. No joke.
More later. Working on some random thoughts. There are many.
Edit: in my foolishness, I forgot to mention that the name of my town is HUMBLE. AND THAT IS IRONY, ALANIS.
Once again, it’s Ben Folds. So much of these — “Not the Same” and “Learn to Live With What You Are.” What if it’s all about finding yourself and then figuring out that’s not who you are at all, then learning to live with that? Deep thoughts with Kerry Faler (courtesy of her pretend boyfriend/musical and lyrical genius, Ben Folds). Don’t call me for years and when you do – yeah, and I’ll still be here.
You took a trip and climbed a tree
At Robert Sledge’s party
And there you stayed ’till morning came
And you were not the same after that
You gave your life to Jesus Christ
And after all your friends went home
You came down, you looked around
And you were not the same after that
(Ahhh ahhh)
You were not the same after that
(Ahhh ahhh)
You were not the same after that
You see ’em drop like flies from the bright sunny skies
They come knocking at your door with this look in their eyes
You’ve got one good trick and you’re hanging on you’re hanging on…
To it
You took the word and made it heard
And eased the people’s pain and for that
You were idolised, immortalised
And you were not the same after that
Walking tall, you’d bought it all
And you were not the same after that
Till someone died on the waterslide
And you were not the same after that
You see ’em drop like flies from the bright sunny skies
They come knocking at your door with this look in their eyes
You’ve got one good trick and you’re hanging on you’re hanging on to it
(ooh ooh ooh ooh)
(YOU WERE NOT THE SAME!)
You see ’em drop like flies from the bright sunny skies
They come knocking at your door with this look in their eyes
You’ve got one good trick and you’re hanging on you’re hanging on:
You’re hanging on:
You’re hanging on:
AND “Learn to Live With What You Are.” These two songs go hand in hand in my opinion.
I know that you’re in there
I can see you
You’re saying you’re ok
I don’t believe you
And now that the gig is off
The spell is broken
The fat lady sung
The president has spoken
These days that you were waiting for
Will come and go
Like any day
Just another day
There’s never gonna be a moment of truth for you
While the world is watching
All you need is the thing you forgotten
And that’s to learn to live with what you are
So freak out if you wanna
And I’ll still be here
Don’t call me for years and when you do
Yeah, I’ll still be here
I’m not saying the effort is a waste of time – but I
Just love you for the things you couldn’t change
Though you’ve tried
These hours of confusion they will soon expire
Like everything
Does
There’s never gonna be a moment of truth for you
While the world is watching
All you need is the thing you’ve forgotten
And that’s to learn to live with what you are
Sometimes
Everything you’ve ever wanted
Floats above
He’s sticking out his tongue and laughing
While everything
Anyone can ever need
Is down below
Waiting for you
To know this
There’s never gonna be a moment of truth for you
While the world is watching
All you need is the thing you’ve forgotten
And that’s to learn to live with what you are
You got to learn to live with what you
You got to learn to live with what you
Are
She’s a million miles away
From me
Separated by a hollow wooden door
Some time we can’t erase
Serves me right
To let her in the first time
That she knockedAnd all this wandering
Got you nothing
You were ready to but
Never could
Things you never saw in me
She’ll see
Observations that she’d heard from other people
That she never understood
Serves her right
Not knowing just exactly what she wants
And all this wandering
Got me nothing
You were ready to but never could
Are you happy
Wandering
Remember sitting on your car
That night
Clouds rolled out and vailing lights around the bay
And you told me all those things
Remember that?
You told me you can’t match your clothes
Remember that?
Confessed how when I laugh sometimes, I’m crying
And we sat and didn’t talk for half an hour
Remember that?
Alone
Cause I won’t remember
Anymore
I thought I’d write, I thought I’d let you know
In the year since you’ve been gone I’ve finally let you go
And I hope you find some time to drop a note
But if you won’t
Then you won’t
And I will consider you gone
I know that you went straight to someone else
While I worked through all this sh*t here by myself
And I think that you should spend some time alone
But if you won’t
Then you won’t
And I will consider you gone
I wake up in the night
All alone and it’s alright
The chemicals are wearing off
Since you’ve gone
The days go on, the lights go off and on
And nothing really matters when you’re gone
If you think that you feel nothing at all
If you don’t (If you don’t)
Then you don’t (No, you won’t)
If you won’t
Then you won’t
And I will
Then I will
Yeah, and I will consider you gone
As many of you know, I am a lifelong fan of the Olympics and I am nothing if not a supporter of sports in which you win necklaces made of precious metals. While watching the Sochi games, I have rekindled my love of Ice Dancing. This underappreciated sport, the cousin of pairs figure skating, is absolutely amazing, but don’t just take my word for it – let’s go to the photos.
Here we have the gold medalists from the USA, Meryl Davis and Charlie White. Charlie looks to be in pain. A lot. The other pics are from other countries that are amazing.
No pain, no medal.Now they’re both in pain. I’m guessing. That can’t be comfortable.I call this move “a good date.”This is on primetime network programming. In my day, we had to watch Cinemax late at night to see stuff like this.Here, Justin Timberlake and Janet Jackson dance their Superbowl routine.What in Thriller hell is this?I repeat, what in Thriller hell?I know his head is behind her body, but this picture is just funny.I hate it when I’m ice dancing and have to yawn.“Don’t move, I have to find my contact lens!”Odd James Bond routine where the Bond Girl kills the villain with Bond’s ice skate.“I’m touching your boob right now with my jazz hand because the dance calls for it, not because I just want to touch your boob. Why are you making that face?”
