Just as I fell asleep last night—in that fuzzy moment where reality fades and drool-inducing slumber takes over (I like to call this my semi-sorta-drunk phase. Though I have never actually been drunk before. I swear. And not just because my parents are reading this. Seriously. No, really.) I had the BEST blog idea. It was inspired. It was brilliant. It was the stuff Pulitzer’s are made of.
And it was…gone as soon as I woke up. I’m pretty sure age has something to do with this sudden forgetfulness. Either that, or there really is something to the “too much sugar is bad for you” advice going around. But I refuse to believe such negative drivel. Me and my Milk Duds are happy together. So I’m hoping my little idea might come back to me when I fall asleep tonight. That way, I can share it with you on Monday. But for now, I’ll fall back on my old standby.
It’s Time for Another Round of the Randoms.
(Does this remind anyone else of a personal illness? Say, involving something that starts with a “b” and rhymes with “vowels”? Just wondering…)
So sad to hear of Dick Clark’s passing yesterday. The man personally ushered in a newfangled kind of music called Rock ‘n Roll. He welcomed musicians onto his show—both famous and those just starting out—and encouraged everyone to get up and dance along while they performed. Every Saturday morning, my sisters and I joined in the fun from our brown-paneled living room, once even fashioning a homemade disco ball out of all our mom’s tin foil. He introduced me to Barry Manilow. He made New Year’s Eve fun. He made eighty-two look young. So, goodbye Mr. Clark. I salute you.
And now moving on to The Voice. It’s no secret that I love this show. It’s also no secret that I desperately wish Christina A. would cover up a bit more. I’ve tweeted about this. I’ve Facebooked about this. I’ve even blogged about it, and I was just so certain that Xtina or her peeps had somehow stumbled across that very page because lately, lately, she seemed to be taking my advice. The plunge had all but disappeared. The glitter sprinkled between her rather large girls was no longer visible. And she was looking gorgeous. I mean, she’s always been gorgeous. But now, even more so.
And then she came out last week in a stripper outfit and wiggled everything she had in Blake Shelton’s face. And as all stripper acts do in even the sleaziest bars, she brought out a choir to accompany her. It was…odd. It was… weird. It was…disturbing. The only thing that might have made it stranger was if the whole stage had broken out into a heavenly rendition of Amazing Grace. While Xtina danced around a pole.
So here’s to hoping next week will be stripper-free.
On the local news last night, they announced that K2 is now illegal. Now…does anyone else hear that headline and immediately think kindergarten has been outlawed? The second grade has been disbanded? Because my youngest daughter is getting ready to start school in the fall, and this just can’t happen. At least not until she makes it to third grade. Seriously, someone needs to name that K2 stuff something else. Someone who knows what the heck it even is.
Kim Kardashian and Kanye West are dating. And if anyone thinks this hook-up is genuine, I’ve got eight pairs of kid’s shoes to sell you. None of them have a match and all of them have holes, but they still work good. I’m asking ten thousand bucks. Inbox me and we’ll talk.
I haven’t really watched Dancing With the Stars much this time around, but I’ve seen enough highlights to figure out that making out with your dance partner on national television is now the new requirement. Everyone’s kissing. Everyone’s taking their shirts off. Everyone’s rolling around on top of each other with sequins flying everywhere. Oh, if tryouts for this show had only taken place twenty years ago…
We now have five weeks left of school. I’m not sure if I’ll make it. I’m not sure I can keep sending my kids much longer. I mean, really, what’s another twenty-five days when the neighborhood swimming pool is calling my name? It’s torture, that’s what. Next year, I vote for school ending after St. Patrick’s Day. Even better—after Christmas. Because it’s my firm belief that teachers should be able to cram every bit of necessary education into these young minds in three months or less. And if not—who needs it? I never use math. And science? History? What a waste of precious (bathing suit) time.
Finally, I got the news yesterday that my newest book semi-finaled in a rather large writing contest. Finals will be announced at the end of May. So if you think about it, I’d appreciate your prayers. Not that I will win, but that I will make it through these torturous weeks without gnawing off my fingernails/eating my weight in Snickers Bars. Because though it would sure be fun to win, it might be sorta bittersweet if no one could recognize me.
It’s almost Friday, folks. That’s a reason to celebrate!