Afternoons: I am useless from about 1:30 in the afternoon until about 3:30. I get tired, cranky, bored. I am basically a toddler for about two hours every day.
Dreams: When someone tells me they had a dream about me, I wonder what I looked like in their dream. Did I look normal? Was I wearing something weird? Was my nose the right shape and size? Did my voice sound like it normally sounds? I want to ask them these questions but feel that would be narcacisstic.
Famous People: On the very few occassions I’ve met someone famous, I briefly entertained the thought that the encounter was so meaningful I would be given a role in their next project or at least mentioned in their memoirs. The same thing happens when one of my kids is in the newspaper or their class is highlighted on the local news. For a split second, I think its their ticket to fame. See also, This Summer Think
Favorite Part: Most of my favorite songs contain a favorite part. It’s usually in the bridge somewhere. I spend the whole song anticipating the big moment. I don’t even pay attention to the first two verses. I am focused only on getting to my favorite part. Finally it’s arrives and I shush whoever is in the car. I sing like I am Whitney Houston at the Super Bowl. It is exhilariting. Twenty seconds later, we’re at the reprise and I’m left feeling sad and deflated.
Getting Old: I went upstairs to get a cup of coffee I left on my dresser. When I got upstairs I opened the closet instead. See also, Orthodonitsts Office
Ghost Car: When I was taking a walk the other day I saw a white car with really dark interior coming toward me. I could see the dark seats and a bright pink steering wheel, but couldn’t see a driver because she was wearing a black coat. For a split second I thought, “Ghost car.” The same thing happens when I’m following a car with a really short driver.
Irony: My husband and I moved to Texas shortly after we got married. Some friends gave us a coffee mug that says “Honorary Texan” as a wedding gift. Our oldest daughter, who was born in Austin and is the only member of our family who is a native Texan, uses this mug exclusively.
This same daughter recently developed an interest in classic hip-hop. I thought it would be fun to make her a playlist. Number ten on the list? The DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince jam Parents Just Don’t Understand. Indeed.
Knuckles: I think my knuckles look like elephant knees.
Laundry: I hate folding my jeans and underpants. I am forced to hold them up at eye leve and ask myself, “Is my butt really that big?”
Matilda: My oldest daughter was obsessed with Matilda by Roald Dahl when she was little. Matilda is a very smart little girl who is born to a family of terrible people. Her parents are ignorant buffoons. It was my daughter’s favorite book. She watched the movie adapatation almost every day for two years. It made me nervous. Was she obsessed with Matilda because she thought my huband and I were terrible people and ignorant buffoons?
Mr. Darcy: Does Mr. Darcy have Asperger’s? He is very socially awkward.
Piano: I like listening to my daughter practice piano. It makes me feel like our home is a lot classier than it is.
Orthodontist Office: They play 90s music at my daughter’s orthodonitist office. I thought this was cool until my daughter rolled her eyes when “No Diggity” came on. I then remembered the waiting room is for parents and parent are not cool. It is the equivalent of hearing The Carpenters at the doctor’s office when I was a kid in the 80s. “No Diggity” is the new “Top of the World.” See also, Getting Old
Spaghetti: All my life I have hated spaghetti. Now, a couple of times a week when I think about what I want for dinner, I think, “Spaghetti sounds really good.” I don’t know who I am any more.
Things My Husband Left on Top of the Car and Then Drove Away: Coffee mugs, DVDs from the library, books from the library, the diaper bag, leftovers from a restaurant, his work bag, his laptop, his glasses.
This Summer Think: My senior year of high school, I was randomly selected to represent my school in an anti-drunk-driving PSA that would air on our local NBC affiliate station and a local radio station. My older brother and his wife drove me to the big city of Des Moines to film the commercial. I felt pretty important sitting there in the studio. “This is it,” I thought. Finally the day came for my commercials to air. Contrary to what I had been thinking since the day they announced my name at school, I did not score a major film or modeling contract. See also, Famous People
Twins: Someone brought their daughter to work yesterday. The girl was wearing a shirt that had a yellow front and a black back. She would run back and forth between one of the meeting rooms and the bathrooms. Because her shirt looked one way from the front and another way from the back, I spent half the morning thinking they were two separate girls.
What Was I Thinking? I hate it when I hear a song on the radio that I loved a couple of years ago, but hearing it again, it sounds completely stupid. I am so embarrassed by my poor taste I have to turn the station.
When Harry Met Sally: Do Harry and Sally get divorced? It seems like they might.
Writers Block: When I have writers block, I try telling myself to relax, just write about the every day, the ordinary. “Just live! That will be your source for inspiration!”
Then I spend every moment examining every minute detail of what I am doing, mining it for material.
“I am doing the dishes. Surely there’s something to be said about doing the dishes. It’s a universal experience. Why, for the love of god, can’t I find anything interesting to say about doing these damn dishes? That’s it. I’m done for.”