A Bad Case Of The Randoms

Some days my mind is super-focused…some days not. This is one of those days, so I’ll just tell you a few things happening in my little world lately.

I love Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. And President’s Day. And Teacher’s In-Service days. And Snow Days. And any other day that results in a day off school. Though sadly, with the wacked-out weather we’ve been having lately, Snow Day 2012 is looking less and less likely to ever happen. Which totally crushes my heart into tiny, unrecognizable pieces. Not to mention the devastating effect it’s having on my newly purchased sled waiting patiently by the back door.

Why are you doing this to us, weathermen? Why??

In fact, the stupid forecast looks so depressingly bright and sunny for the foreseeable future that this might be the first time in the history of an Arkansas January that I pull on a swimsuit, wander out to my backyard with Diet Coke and People Magazine, and work on my tan.

To my neighbors: You have been warned. You may want to take a detour and avoid driving past my house over the next seven days. Some images—like me and my blinding whiteness in an old swimsuit—are impossible to scrub out of your memory, no matter how much soap and water you pour into your burning, hurting eyes.

So I went to see Joyful Noise this weekend, and I must say this: If you like Gospel Music that inspires and makes you want to get up and dance and praise the Lord (which I do), go see this movie. But if you like your movies to have plots that make sense (which I do), that don’t invite two hundred eye-rolls over the course of two hours (if you’re doing the math, that’s a whole lotta eye rolls. Not sure how many, but I did worry mine might get stuck in the back of my head. Which, FYI, is so embarrassing to explain to your doctor. Not to mention insurance doesn’t cover it), and aren’t completely pointless and void of any real emotions, don’t see it. Just go to church on Sunday. Or visit a national choir competition. Which begs a question: do national choir competitions really exist? I have my doubts, because I was in church choir as a kid, and we never entered any competitions—either national or local.

Of course I doubt we would have won anyway with our super-slow rendition of Just As I Am sung twelve times in funeral-procession style, but that’s beside the point.

We totally needed Queen Latifa back then. And Dolly Parton with her two…powerful lungs.

I bought a new purse this weekend. It was, like, mega, mega on sale. Which practically made it free. But not totally free, because when I asked the sales lady if I could just take it, she looked at me like I was crazy. Whatever. And then I was so overly giddy about my next-to-nothing purse purchase that I wondered over to the shoe department and bought a pair of cute ballet flats. But they weren’t practically free, which made me sad. But then I brought them home, tried them on, and guess what? They HURT. Like, bad. Like, I’d-have-blisters-on-my-feet- before-I-walked-out-the-front-door bad. So I took them back. And the moral of the story is this:

The best things in life really are (almost) free. Whadayaknow?

I watched the Miss America pageant this weekend. And The Golden Globes. And then ate popcorn and cereal. Because the sight of all those skinny women in those skin-tight dresses with their perfect hair and flawless make-up made me depressed. And hungry. And wishing the people in charge of TV programming wouldn’t think it necessary to parade all this female awesomeness in front of my totally jealous eyes. And the swimsuit part of the pageant…? Let’s just say that if I looked like those women in a swimsuit, I wouldn’t hide out in my back yard warning my neighbors to take a detour.

I’d parade up and down my street.

In two feet of snow.

On my super-cool sled.


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