Old Habits Don’t Die, Ever

You know, sometimes I am amazed at how old habits from my youth still persist on surfacing.

Yesterday I had the TV on in the background while I was cleaning up, and the new version of The Thing came on. Eh, it’s ok, but not really the type of movie I enjoy watching, so it’s a good thing I wasn’t really watching it. I didn’t even give it a thought, but then after it was over, John Carpenter’s The Thing came on.

The stuff of…what the screaming Hades IS that??

I tried. I really, really tried to change the channel. I just….couldn’t. I was frozen (heh!) to the screen as the story unfolded for the upteenth time. In my opinion, that is still one of the most frightening films ever made. Why? Not because of the Creature. Not because of the gore. Not because of the screaming and agony.

No. The reason that movie is so scary is the very last scene. After MacReady (Kurt Russell) blows up the Creature and the whole area, he is sitting outside, and Childs (Keith David) walks up. And as they speak I notice one detail: MacReady’s breath fogs, but Childs’ doesn’t!!!! And the last lines say a lot, too:

Childs: What do we do?

MacReady: Why don’t we just wait here for a while… see what happens.

I know now that HE knows, and that just scares the life out of me. Every. Single. Time. I should know better than to watch a John Carpenter movie. They never end well.

Anyway, the evening comes to an end, and we all prepare for bed, and as I lay there waiting for sleep to come, I picture the entire movie in my head once again, and feel anxiety starting to rise, and fear gripping my chest, and so I do what every single normal kid has done to ward off those hellish visions of doom.

I cover my head with my blanket and feel myself relax, the fear subside, and all’s right with my world.

Because every kid knows: a blanket can take on every monster and creature single-handed. It works every time

Pillow Talk

This morning I was watching the news, when the anchor made mention of a “language gene“.

Oooooh…. SCIENCE!! I knew about the discovery (about ten years old now), but apparently there was a new twist to it. My ears perked up to listen, and I was not disappointed.

According to scientists, women speak “about 20,000 words a day – some 13,000 more than the average man.” Yes, yes… I asked the same question:

IS THAT ALL??

According to science studies, women have more of the Foxp2 protein than men do. That’s the “language protein”. Apparently, the more you have, the more you gab. I don’t have much of it, but according to Hubby, Little One makes up more than my lack. So ladies, take it easy on your guy. He has a tough time keeping up with everything we say, not because he doesn’t care, but because there’s so much of it!!

So far, no studies have found men to have a “listening gene” as yet. And I am willing to bet that even if such a gene existed, the scientific community would never, ever admit it

Never Listen to Werewolves While Eating Cake

I will never learn. Probably because that would mean giving up cake and that’s just never going to happen.

Last night after dinner, Hubby and I had some of his birthday cake: white chocolate with raspberry filling. To. Die. For. Apparently, I didn’t have nearly enough to satisfy my sweet tooth, because after he went to bed, I had another slice, while listening to Warren Zevon. And the dream which resulted from that smash-up was epic!

I was in Pittsburgh, no idea why, but for some reason I was at a Trader Vic’s discussing the merits of Rolling Rock™, and how Yuengling™ wasn’t as good as Shiner™. And I was sitting at the table with none other than my friend Soylent Green, (NSFW!!!!) who was dressed as a dentist for some odd reason, and he was yelling at me about how uncouth I was for liking my Southern libation, instead of the Northern ones, to which I told him that he needed to get his Novocaine™ out of his…. derriére and expand his horizons, and as the yelling match grew out of proportions Trader Vic came over to let us know that the werewolves were getting annoyed and Soylent takes his glass and yells at them to order Domino’s Pizza™. Then the werewolves came over and Trader Vic said that the leader would just tear our lungs out, and I said fine, but they had to settle the argument about Shiner versus Yuengling before they even took a bite.

And then I woke up.

*shakes fist at REM sleep*

Just once I wish I could finish a dream that awesome

Not. My. Day.

Sometimes it doesn’t pay to get out of bed.

Usually I wake up gradually and lay there quietly, planning out my day before the alarm goes off. Well, not this morning. I woke up from a really weird dream. It wasn’t bad, and it wasn’t good. Basically I was working for an obscure government outfit on loss prevention and alien apprehension. The “out of this world” kind, I mean. And I was at t he PX doing rounds when I stopped to watch a bunch of little drummer girls and one of them really, REALLY loved her pillow and talked to it, and one little boy made fun of it, and then a freakin’ tentacle slithers out of the pillow and grabs his wee-wee, and I pull it off, yelling at people to stand back as I get my gun out and start shooting at it, yelling at someone not to use the machete because the alien is like a hydra and would someone PLEASE bring me a lighter and a can of Aqua-Net©?? Whereupon after emptying two clips I promptly set the thing on fire.

Anyway, the point is I woke up all disoriented, and was not all here when I went to do the tea and coffee ritual. I grabbed the carafe and filter, and proceeded to dump the grounds in the sink, which is not necessarily bad, until you realize that you dumped the last of the coffee in the garbage can. So I reach down with some paper towels to sop up the mess, forgetting that the greasy foil from the baked salmon was in there. So now I had a very greasy, fishy arm to clean. Fine…FINE!!! I wash it off and start the coffeemaker and finish Hubby’s tea, and go to make the bed and set out his clothes. So I set out his shirt and pants, and then make the bed, forgetting the clothes are on it. Sigh…. undo bed, remove clothes, redo bed.

So finally I get my cup of coffee, and drink it scalding hot, because I do NOT have time to waste. I have to get back to my state of “normal” so I can take my mom shopping for groceries. She is cooking tonight, and I sure as heck do NOT want anything to interfere with that!!!

Last thing I need is to slip on a grape at the store and end up in traction, missing her pork roast

What Dreams May Cone

Last night was a very nice, very quiet evening. Little One spent the night at her friend’s, and the two older ones went with their ROTC posse to Sea World. I had the remote for almost 15 minutes before I figured out I could watch something besides a kids show. Don’t get me wrong. I gave the remote to Hubby, as is custom. He is Master of the Remote, but he never forgets I’m Mistress of the Domain, so it evens out.

Anyway, we watched a couple of movies, and afterwards I was feeling a bit of my sweet tooth yelling at me kindly reminding me of my ice cream still in the freezer. So, I went to get the ½ gallon tub, only to find that there were exactly two teaspoons left of my delicious goodness.

I blame my Son.

Still, it was two teaspoons, so I quickly ate it, and then got ready for bed. My first mistake was brushing my teeth with sensitive toothpaste. It made me gag at the combination of Love Potion 31 and medicinal paste. Trust me when I say it is ghastly, and the taste does NOT go away after rinsing for five minutes.

My second mistake was eating so little.

I have been having odd dreams lately, but last night was beyond odd. I dreamt I was at Baskin-Robbins™ and was being asked how many scoops I wanted on my cone. I looked around, and found that they only had one flavor, and it was plain. Not vanilla, but just plain. I asked where the other flavors were, and the gal behind the counter told me the other flavors were for Bingo night. So I asked when Bingo night was, and she said “Tequila”. And I asked her if that was a flavor, and she said no, it was the time. And I said that wasn’t a time, but she insisted, and then told me to pick a flavor from plain, and how many scoops. I told her, “Five, please,” and she said I would need a permit to eat it. So I asked where I could get a permit, and she said “Banana!”

And the alarm went off, saving me from killing someone in my dream.

So, the lesson here is, eat your fill of ice cream before going to bed, and you won’t have to go to banana for a permit to eat ice cream while waiting for tequila to start Bingo night. Something like that. I’m still not sure.

I do know that I shall be going out for ice cream later

It’s 1985 in My House….

No, I’m not kidding.

The other day, I was going through Little One’s closet, and found leg warmers. Surprised, I asked her where she got them, and she told me they were her friend’s.

Me: So, y’all wear them for twirling practice?

LO: Oh no, it’s for fun.

Me: I bet your legs get all sweaty.

LO: (puzzled) Why? They go on the arms.

Me: …..

And Eldest? One of her favorite T-shirts is her vintage AC/DC one. I admit, I am partial to it as well, but it feels like there’s a crack in the fabric of the Universe to have your kid like one of your favorite rock bands from your teen years. I think I got five more grey hairs from that.

However, the ultimate proof of my lapse in the Time Machine?

Courtesy of Superb Wallpapers

MINECRAFT!!!

With the super 12,825-bit games the kids have in their library, so realistic that blood, sweat, and tears travel in rivulets down the thickly-veined arms of the enemy, it comes down to wanting to spend hours on an 8-bit looking game building a house?? REALLY??? This from the same kids that laughed at the Dire Straits’ Money for Nothin’ video not three weeks ago??

I have to admit, I don’t see the attraction, but then again, I don’t play videogames. But it’s a bit freaky to have your husband chomping on the bit to go bump the kids off so he can have his turn. Or have him wake up at o-light-thirty on a Saturday to go play it. Yes, he is playing it as I type. And woke up the kids to help him out with creepers or some such thing.

Anyway, time for me to get my day started. I better go find my Valley Girl soundtrack and get my Wayfarers on, baby!

The Lightness of Being

I love tragic love stories, and love foreign films and books. Several years ago, I read The Unbearable Lightness of Being, and found it to be a very deep, slightly disturbing book, brilliantly written. I followed it with the film, which was good but in my opinion, very loosely based, and as always disappointing compared to the book. But it had Daniel Day-Lewis, so WIN!!

For years, the message of the book disturbed me, because as often as I would re-read it, I just couldn’t grasp it. I’m not a concrete thinker by any stretch, but this was beyond my scope, even at the tender age of 21. Ok, perhaps because I was so young, then. In any case, it took me several years, and one epiphany, but I finally got the message. That concept of the “lightness of being” finally clicked.

And I know I can never feel it. And that’s a good thing. The lightness refers to being carefree, thinking only of the immediate, the “now”, whatever will make you happy and satisfied for YOU. Doing what I have to do, FOR ME, is never an option. I can never give in to the child-like selfishness, because I would then be forsaking those closest to me. Don’t get me wrong: I do small things for myself, like the bubblebath ritual and attending Wine Night with my friends. But I never let those things take precedence over anyone. I can’t. It goes against the very fiber of my being to do so. And in retrospect, I never understood it because I never have felt the need to feel the lightness, such as it is.

You may ask if I need to feel it now that I understand it. The answer is no, I don’t. I’m just glad I FINALLY figured out that little enigma from my youth, and can now shelve the book without a backward glance.

The movie, however, is still nice eye candy

Stolen Hour

I hate this time of year: Daylight Savings Time. Last night I reset all the clocks for which I am responsible and wondered why it is that most states still adhere to such an antiquated policy. Arizona seems to cope quite well without it. So do a lot of other countries.

And it never fails…. any important change inevitably brings on anxiety, for no reason. So, last night as I settled into bed, feeling sleep overcome me, only to wake up suddenly. And stayed up until 4 AM.

So, not only do I fall asleep at 4 PM after the time changed, I had to get up at 7 AM to tend to the dog, which necessitated another pot of coffee. Three hours of sleep does not make for a nice Aggie. It doesn’t make for a pretty one, either, but that’s why I have Mary Kay™.

And as I sit here in the peace and quiet before everyone wakes up, my only thought is how to go about making a Daylight Savings voodoo doll. I could make a killing with that

Seuss Sithy

Today finds me running errands and wincing at the fact that Mass Effect 3 is now available. For those who need a translation, it’s a videogame. Unfortunately, that is all I know. Anyway, a friend sent me this, and I just had to steal creatively borrow it, so I could share it with y’all!

In honor of Dr. Seuss’ birthday, and his wit. Courtesy of my friend Kenneth!

Y’all have a great Tuesday!!

When It Rains….

This past weekend, Eldest informed me that the battery in her laptop needs to be replaced. That’s nothing unusual, since the battery in my laptop has needed replacing for a long time now. But yesterday Son informed me that the kids’ computer no longer reads discs or memory sticks.

So now it seems certain tech thingies can’t wait for Hubby to get home. I have been wanting to upgrade the kids’ computer for a while, but Hubby is bringing the one he is using back, so I’m not sure if I should go ahead and get a new CPU, and install the other PC in the main reading area.

Of course, Son is all for a new PC in his room, where he thinks he can limit access to his sisters. And Little One is all about having her very own laptop in her room. That won’t happen for a few years, though. The gnashing of teeth will continue unabated until then, I’m sure. I swear, this house is fast becoming a computer and videogame system graveyard. I just wonder if there will be enough room for a new iPad