Bookstore
Matt and I went to P.F. Chang's the other night (with a very lovely Christmas giftcard). It's located in a large upscale shopping center. After dinner, I told Matt that I wanted to go to Barnes and Noble, as we also had a giftcard to that as well. At the first mention of a bookstore, Matt made apoplexy sounds and looked like he was suffering from a massive internal hemorrhage. Basically, the usual response.
He told me in no uncertain terms that he did not want to go. So he went home to start a fire and get some wine chilled (date night!) and I headed to the store.
Going to a bookstore for me is how I imagine cocaine is to addicts. There's an immediate feeling of euphoria. Stress and worry fade away and only the crisp scent of unfamiliar storylines linger. I run my hands over shiny hardbacks and velvety paperbacks. It's good stuff.
Ahem, back to the story. So I was enjoying my time alone, no kids to chase, no husband to make disparaging remarks about the time. I decided to get a book about adoption. Not seeing any, I asked an employee to help. He walked over with me to the parenting section and after a few minutes of fruitless searching remarked "It's too bad you don't need a book on autism." Um, yes, it is.
A few minutes after I left, Matt called. Wondering where I was, which I had expected.
Me: "I was only in there an hour, hour and a half, tops. I tried really hard to leave early."
Matt: "I don't think you did a very good job."
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| Not bad for $25 |
Let me preface this ramble by saying I'm a channel changer. If my kids are in the car, it pretty much stays on the local Christian station or a cd and I'm ok with that. But if I'm alone, I flip channels like I'm getting paid by the song. Nary a song is allowed to finish before I'm hitting that button. It's a trait I inherited from my Dad and it was the cause of many a rift on long family car rides.
That being said, I'm afraid of being in a car accident. Not the actual accident part, nor the pain or possible dying. I'm afraid that the song on the radio will be a ridiculous one when EMS arrives. I cringe thinking of a couple of paramedics trying to extricate my broken body from the vehicle saying "She listens to Phil Collins?"
I could have gotten into a crash listening to a great song, 'Bohemian Rhapsody' or 'Walking in Memphis.' But by the time emergency services arrive, the radio could be playing something by Meatloaf or Ke$ha.
(Side note: The first I heard of Ke$ha - that money sign is absurd, no? - Matt and I were watching an episode of SNL on Hulu. I remember being perplexed at first, wondering why this person was performing. I can't find a good version of it on Youtube, which is just as well. From what I recall, she was painted in neon glowing colors like a stereotypical Native American. And she was hopping about like she had a neurological disorder. I finally concluded that it must be a candidate for the Make a Wish Foundation and how nice SNL was to make her dream come true.)
So if we're even in a crash together and I'm unconscious and you're not, please make sure there are decent songs on the radio at all times. Thank you.
Iphones
The other day I was thumbing through a Wall Street Journal that Matt brought home from work. I read an article about iphones and how, even though it is still the most popular brand of smart phone, other brands are much stronger than originally predicted. Analysts were interviewed stating that everyone thought Apple would crush the market on smart phones but that's not the case. It went on to detail how Apple is trying to market each new phone as an upgrade people want to make. The problem is that many people are settling on an earlier, cheaper version of the iphone and don't consider the newest model to be worth the price. Then I flipped the page over:
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| Nice try, Apple |
House Cleaning
Anyone who knows me and has been to my house can attest to the fact that I am not that clean. Now, mind you, it's not like an episode of Hoarders or anything. I can still see the children and most of the floor so I think I'm doing pretty darn well. Now, mothers-in-law are notorious for being hard on their daughters-in-law but I am the exception. I happen to enjoy mine quite a bit and she seems to tolerate me pretty well too. The issue is that she's a fabulously clean person. If you are talking to her, she will pick up a washcloth and start wiping down the counters, just because. If you are talking to me, I will sit down next to you and we will eat popcorn together. The counters will not even enter my teeny little ol' brain once.
Early in our marriage, Matt would make remarks like "You know, my mom used to clean the kitchen floors on her hands and knees." To which I would respond with something like:
"My dad washes all the dishes in our house and brings my mother drinks and bowls of ice cream."
Or
"I'll be glad to bring you a sponge."
Or
"So move back in. Then your laundry would be done correctly again too. I hope the three of you will be very happy."
He doesn't say things like that anymore.
Whenever someone comes over, I feel the compulsion to apologize for the state of my house. Sometimes it actually is atrocious and there are just no words. Sometimes though, I say things like "Sorry it's such a mess in here" when I know darn well that it's actually clean. That way if they are a really tidy person, they might think "Oh thank goodness. They have all recently gotten over the bubonic plague and were too weak to mop. Whew, makes sense now." Or if they are not clean people, they might admire the fact that I find my seemingly acceptable house to be awful and come to the conclusion that I have really high standards.
Just covering my bases over here. Now I'd best get back to scouring these baseboards.
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