Both are cute, but only one has ever snapped a baby's neck on purpose.
Okay, so I'm sure you've been wetting yourselves to hear what my iPod can come up with--it's probably what's kept you up at night lo these many months--but I've got the cure for your wetting.
That sounded less weird in my head.
There's been plenty of time to amass goodness and badness over the past, what, eight months or so. So consider this a mega-TGTBATFRT to account for/atone for my absence.
What's good (over the past eight months or so):
- the democratic process. Yeah, yeah, I know a lot of us disagree on politics in and of itself, but just the chance to speak our opinions and choose our own government leadership (out of a pitifully small slate of pre-vetted, pre-selected, major-party candidates) is a truly great thing.
- Barack Obama. SUCK IT!
- puppies
- freelance work. Copywriting. Feature writing. Hell, technical writing or screenwriting or skywriting or whatever you can throw my way. You know how to find me.
- honesty, within reason
- BBC America. I finally shelled out for digital cable, and now this is my favorite channel evar. Top Gear, Graham Norton, How Clean Is Your House, I will watch British people being snarky and British all day long. My three dreams in life are to be a guest-star on Doctor Who, qualifying me to be the Star in the Reasonably Priced Car on Top Gear, after which performance I would be verbally castigated by Gordon Ramsay.
- the Google G1
- Dead Like Me, until it was cancelled
- Snuggies. Yes, I know, I look like a douche, like my Snuggie should have come with $5.75 and a pair of brand-new Nikes. But it really does keep me warm whilst leaving my hands free to knit or tell a racist joke or roast my dog over an open fire.
Besides, it was a gift.
- Lemon Sugar Cookie ice cream from Publix
- relationships that last
- sympathetic mechanics
- gays settlin' down
- ponies
- high-thread-count sheets
What's bad:
- the economy. And bailouts--and I might be taking the unpopular track here, but I'm talking about all bailouts. Part of me is all about bailing out the automakers, because so many people without seven-figure paychecks are depending on them, but at the same time, come on. Realistically, what we're doing is a pinkie-finger in the dike of impending financial collapse, and the sooner that collapse comes the sooner we can start digging ourselves out of it. It's going to happen anyway; we might as well save our money, budget it for recovery efforts, and let the old girl die gracefully.
- respiratory infections. Oh, good Lord. My coworkers will be pleased to know not only that my miserable, incessant, gurgling cough is not the result of walking pneumonia but also that I will be keeping it at home today and treating it with a cocktail of antibiotics and Robitussin with codeine.
- being given responsibilities but not the authority to back them up
- the series finale of Battlestar Galactica
- sexism at home and abroad, and people who sincerely don't see why it's a big deal
- the "r-word." Blah, blah, blah, politically correct, blah, but it actually means something. People with cognitive disabilities are faced with a lot of difficulties in their lives, they're forced to try a lot harder than most of have to, and they don't deserve to be slapped into the same category with coworkers who make your life hard or people who recently vacated the White House or people who drive around everywhere with their left turn indicator on. I don't care if you don't mean it "that way"; if something is stupid or ridiculous or poorly conceived or inane, just say that. Or make up a new word. Just give the r-word a rest.
The Ten:
1. Tina Turner, "Better Be Good to Me"
2. Howie Day, "Numbness for Sound"
3. Frank Sinatra, "The Birth of the Blues"
4. Michael Bublé, "I've Got You Under My Skin"
5. Ella Fitzgerald, "Angel Eyes"
6. Hugh Maskela, "Mama (Metro Area Birthday Dub)"
7. Dean Fields, "Irish Bars"
8. Fountains of Wayne, "...Baby One More Time"
9. Morrissey, "Hairdresser on Fire"
10. Foo Fighters, "M.I.A."
And for the coming weekend, that means... Oh, who the hell cares? I'm taking my bottle of Robitussin and a straw and going back to bed. Your whatevers go in comments.
No comments:
Post a Comment