Dearest Sisero -
Something tragic happened today: I turned into a cliche from the 80's. The events I'm about to describe to you were propelled by a night of shoddy sleep (surprise surprise), lack of caffeine (surprise surprise #2) and two little boys playing nicely enough by themselves (what! a non-sarcastic surprise!) so that the proper amount of time was available for this unfortunate incident to occur. Let me set the stage: I'm in my pj's and sitting on the couch - mistake #1 - when I should've done what I normally do, and changed into "day" clothing before leaving my bedroom. Mistake #2 - my unruly bedhead should've been similarly tended to with a few hair pins before I exited the boudoir for the day. Unfortunately, due to the aforementioned fatigue, I'm sloppily plopped down on the couch, and can't get up. So the boys are playing, and I'm a zombie. Now fast forward 20 minutes, when I suddenly catch myself SNIFFLING and wiping away TEARS. I reach for a tissue when apparently the coffee I'd been slowly sipping kicks in, and I'm like "OMG, why am I crying right now?!" Oh, I'll tell you why I was crying: I had apparently been watching STEEL MAGNOLIAS - yes, that self-proclaimed tear-jerker made in 1989 about a group of "sassy" southern women working together in a beauty salon, that I'd never seen because I was like 12 when it came out - and Julia Roberts had died from something super sad (and vaguely unrealistic) while tending to her young son and sporting a HORRIFIC short hair style, and Sally Field who was the mom was sitting at her bed-side holding her hand and doing the whole I may be sad, but you best believe I'm gonna be STRONG thing. Oh, and while this drama was unfolding on the tv (say it with a southern drawl: awn tha teyvey), I had somehow managed to get my hands on one of those hair clip/claw things that are truly one step away from a banana clip, and lazily pulled back 78% of my untamed morning bedhead. So I'm in my pj's, with an unflattering amount of unruly hair pulled back into a clip and silently weeping over something that happened to Julia Roberts' poorly-acted character. But mama, ah WANTed to have a baybay - don't be sad feh me, mama. I don't even know what to say. It really goes to show that slippery slopes do exist, and not to leave the bedroom without changing into something less comfortable and infinitely more respectable. I should probably also get rid of the Encore channel before Fried Green Tomatoes comes on in the middle of the day, and I get runny-mascara-face and eat a box of bon-bons to console myself over something Kathy Bates had to endure. You know the bon-bons I'm talking about too - the ones from Trader Joe's with the brownie/ice-cream combo. Am I right, or am I right?? As a side note: Dolly Parton was also in the movie and she looked exactly the same as she always has - in her mid 40's. Oh and Shirley McClain was the super original character, "rebellious mean old coot who's always in a bad mood but really has a heart of gold"... totally believable.
Now, let's talk about your witnessing the "young" people going out at all unholy hours of the night - aka: AFTER 9:00 PM. Why are they doing this?! And why is it somehow I feel like Forever 21 and Sex and the City are heavily to blame? The former because it provides such reasonably priced "going out" clothes that it's difficult to resist its siren call and the latter because it managed to taint the minds of millions of American females into believing that drinking heavily, spending all your money on shoes you can't (and NEVER WILL) afford and being carelessly promiscuous well into your 40's can only lead to living happily ever after with a "hot" rich guy who will leave his beautiful young wife for you. (Seriously - if a guy is leaving Bridget Moinahan, it's not gonna be for SJP, but possibly for Giselle. ie: REAL LIFE.) So when you were driving home from the late movie, driving past the trendy apple-tini bars, did you find yourself fighting the temptation to roll down the window and yell something? Not advice mind you, or even reprimand. Just something ridiculous because if you're gonna yell out the car window at someone, might as well make it fun and with a message that is more or less totally difficult to comprehend. Classy, Sis... always classy.
As a sidenote, I really appreciate that you believe leaving horse's heads for people as "warnings" is totally acceptable. Reason #12569 why I miss you so much.
Please kiss that late-movie-going, permanent-tutu-sporting niecykins of mine.
Love you -
Ava
Something tragic happened today: I turned into a cliche from the 80's. The events I'm about to describe to you were propelled by a night of shoddy sleep (surprise surprise), lack of caffeine (surprise surprise #2) and two little boys playing nicely enough by themselves (what! a non-sarcastic surprise!) so that the proper amount of time was available for this unfortunate incident to occur. Let me set the stage: I'm in my pj's and sitting on the couch - mistake #1 - when I should've done what I normally do, and changed into "day" clothing before leaving my bedroom. Mistake #2 - my unruly bedhead should've been similarly tended to with a few hair pins before I exited the boudoir for the day. Unfortunately, due to the aforementioned fatigue, I'm sloppily plopped down on the couch, and can't get up. So the boys are playing, and I'm a zombie. Now fast forward 20 minutes, when I suddenly catch myself SNIFFLING and wiping away TEARS. I reach for a tissue when apparently the coffee I'd been slowly sipping kicks in, and I'm like "OMG, why am I crying right now?!" Oh, I'll tell you why I was crying: I had apparently been watching STEEL MAGNOLIAS - yes, that self-proclaimed tear-jerker made in 1989 about a group of "sassy" southern women working together in a beauty salon, that I'd never seen because I was like 12 when it came out - and Julia Roberts had died from something super sad (and vaguely unrealistic) while tending to her young son and sporting a HORRIFIC short hair style, and Sally Field who was the mom was sitting at her bed-side holding her hand and doing the whole I may be sad, but you best believe I'm gonna be STRONG thing. Oh, and while this drama was unfolding on the tv (say it with a southern drawl: awn tha teyvey), I had somehow managed to get my hands on one of those hair clip/claw things that are truly one step away from a banana clip, and lazily pulled back 78% of my untamed morning bedhead. So I'm in my pj's, with an unflattering amount of unruly hair pulled back into a clip and silently weeping over something that happened to Julia Roberts' poorly-acted character. But mama, ah WANTed to have a baybay - don't be sad feh me, mama. I don't even know what to say. It really goes to show that slippery slopes do exist, and not to leave the bedroom without changing into something less comfortable and infinitely more respectable. I should probably also get rid of the Encore channel before Fried Green Tomatoes comes on in the middle of the day, and I get runny-mascara-face and eat a box of bon-bons to console myself over something Kathy Bates had to endure. You know the bon-bons I'm talking about too - the ones from Trader Joe's with the brownie/ice-cream combo. Am I right, or am I right?? As a side note: Dolly Parton was also in the movie and she looked exactly the same as she always has - in her mid 40's. Oh and Shirley McClain was the super original character, "rebellious mean old coot who's always in a bad mood but really has a heart of gold"... totally believable.
Now, let's talk about your witnessing the "young" people going out at all unholy hours of the night - aka: AFTER 9:00 PM. Why are they doing this?! And why is it somehow I feel like Forever 21 and Sex and the City are heavily to blame? The former because it provides such reasonably priced "going out" clothes that it's difficult to resist its siren call and the latter because it managed to taint the minds of millions of American females into believing that drinking heavily, spending all your money on shoes you can't (and NEVER WILL) afford and being carelessly promiscuous well into your 40's can only lead to living happily ever after with a "hot" rich guy who will leave his beautiful young wife for you. (Seriously - if a guy is leaving Bridget Moinahan, it's not gonna be for SJP, but possibly for Giselle. ie: REAL LIFE.) So when you were driving home from the late movie, driving past the trendy apple-tini bars, did you find yourself fighting the temptation to roll down the window and yell something? Not advice mind you, or even reprimand. Just something ridiculous because if you're gonna yell out the car window at someone, might as well make it fun and with a message that is more or less totally difficult to comprehend. Classy, Sis... always classy.
As a sidenote, I really appreciate that you believe leaving horse's heads for people as "warnings" is totally acceptable. Reason #12569 why I miss you so much.
Please kiss that late-movie-going, permanent-tutu-sporting niecykins of mine.
Love you -
Ava
While reading your description of your attire, I was sure your next paragraph might include an untimely visit from the UPS man or that always-put-together 39 year old neighbor that drives the super clean Land Rover. I was so relieved to be wrong. I'm embarassed to admit that recently I, too fell into the mid-afternoon movie trap and watched every minute of Nights in Rodanthe. Sadly, I'm a closet Richard Gere fan. You don't think anyone's reading this, do you? Although a completely predictable movie, the tears fell freely. My oldest (and youngest) son was none too pleased when I shushed him. Completely unrelated...thanks for mentioning the horse head again. It reminded me what perfect ladies you both are.
ReplyDeleteIf it had been someone at the door, Rhonda, I would've been mortified! As for always-looks-great 39 yr old, Land Rover driver... I kinda aspire to that. Sans a few years. BUT... Brett did say I could have a Range Rover the second continuous year I contribute $100k to our household income, so... oh wait, NEVER.
ReplyDeleteBTW, Nights in Rodanthe just made me laugh out loud! Too, too perfect! Now I'm secretly hoping that terrible movie with Robert Redford and Michelle Pfeifer and that AWESOME Celine Dion song comes on today.