Friday! I am seeing a play tonight, which is totally exciting. Also, we got ALL THE SNOW over the past two days. ALL the snow. Like, a FOOT. This makes some people happy and some people insane. It just makes me tired because who wants to clean off their car? Not this lady, that’s who. Blergh. Also, everyone, everyone, EVERYONE has forgotten how to drive in it – understandable, we’ve only had a couple days of snow this winter – so they’re either right on my bumper (HELLO! WHY SO CLOSE?) or they’re putter-assing along like they have ALL THE TIME IN THE WORLD. Either way, it makes me want to stab someone in the eyehole.
I got some Nephew news the other day. Which is always happifying, seriously. First, THE NEPHEW might be coming to visit this VERY MONTH! No, not alone, his mom is bringing him. He’s still too little to travel alone, don’t be crazy, someone would kidnap him right off the Greyhound. But before the month is out, I MIGHT SEE THE NEPHEW. Not that I’m at all excited about that or anything, no no, not ME. Not that when I call my parents and he’s visiting and I hear him in the background my whole heart just leaps in my chest because he’s my favorite person in the whole of persondom. I mean, if you wanted just an EXAMPLE. Of my excitement. That’s all.
His mom emailed me to tell me that I might see him this month (NOT THAT I AM AT ALL EXCITED ABOUT THAT SQUEE) and this was in her email (sorry, K., totally stealing you verbatim from your email, couldn’t help it, too damn cute):
Have you heard what he wants to be when he grows up?
“Mommy, I want to be a fire station when I grow up and fight people”.
“Do you mean you want to be a firefighter and help fight fires”?
“No mommy I don’t want to fight fires I want to fight PEOPLE “!!!!
So apparently, The Nephew is going to be a building when he grows up, and also maybe an ultimate fighter. I like that a lot. Those are lofty goals, my little buddy. LOFTY. Although I don’t know if I’m on board with the ultimate fighter thing, because if anyone hit him in the ring I’d be getting in the ring all crazy-eyed and, “WTF??? Did you just smack THE NEPHEW? Who the hell do you think you ARE? That is NOT ALLOWED MISTER.” Then the referee would have to remove me. And probably his opponent would be crying shame-tears. So probably The Nephew’s career would not be getting off to a stellar start, you know?
Also, my parents took him to Ash Wednesday mass last week, and that’s the mass (in case some of you are not Catholic babies like I am, or just not aware of the fun of Ash Wednesday, where you totally get DOOR PRIZES) where you go up at one point in the service and get ashes on your forehead as a sign of mourning and repentance and to mark the first day of Lent. So the priest put ashes on my dad’s forehead, and my dad was holding The Nephew, and the priest put ashes on The Nephew’s little wee forehead, and The Nephew looked at my dad’s forehead, and realized that he, too, had black smut on HIS head, and said, right out loud, “I don’t want DIRT on my FACE!” Seriously, I don’t know how people dealing with him on a regular basis aren’t constantly cracking up in inappropriate places, like church. I’d be cracking up regularly. He’s just about the funniest to me. Plus, you have to be aware he doesn’t even KNOW he’s funny. He says these things with a little serious-face. It’s the best. Also, apparently he’s very stubborn and “I do it MYSELF!”-y, so when I told my mom it’s obvious that he has some of my DNA in there, she sighed and said, “Yes, apparently so, poor kid.” POOR KID? That is LUCKY. That is the BEST. He’s like a PIONEER with his self-reliance. Yes, yes, it will also totally get him in trouble with THE MAN, no doubt, sorry about that, Nephew, but keep in mind your aunt will always be the most proud! And will always have bail money, if necessary! And band-aids! And just remember – you can still be valedictorian, even if you chuck your calculator at your physics teacher’s head and make him bleed because he locked you outside in an ice storm and watched you get soaked through the window by the door, laughing, because he wanted to “see what you looked like in a wet t-shirt.” THIS REALLY HAPPENED I AM NOT EVEN JOKING AND I WAS TOTAL SEVENTEEN-YEAR-OLD JAILBAIT. Also, if your physics teacher ever says this to you, Nephew, please come talk to me. I know some places we can bury the body. NO ONE HAS TO KNOW. JUST BETWEEN US KIDDO.
So, there’s the haps on The Nephew front. In short, he really is just the best thing.
Let’s see, what else is shaking. Oh, in case you’re NOT obsessed with my comments like I am, Andreas has chosen an official moniker, and will henceforth be known as the official Lucy’s Football Science Fellow. Which I like very much. Doesn’t it sound mega-classy? I think there should be a badge or something that goes with that. How do all of you people make those fancy badges, anyway? I think you’re all magic, I don’t know how you do that shit.
(They aren’t even CALLING them licorice anymore, have you all noticed this? Candy twists. This is just sad. Maybe they never called them licorice, I don’t know. I always call them licorice. Don’t you all call them licorice?)
They’re LIKE licorice, like, they’re the CONSISTENCY of licorice, but really they’re sugar and taste like fake strawberry. DELICIOUS fake strawberry. They also come in black licorice flavor but I hate that so I haven’t tried those. And I think weird other flavors. Like at one point I’m pretty sure I saw “super sour Twizzlers” and that made me disgusted. But I don’t believe in anything except regular red Twizzlers. They’re excellent road trip food. But I think if you’re used to regular licorice that tastes like licorice, you’d hate Twizzlers and curse America for being weird, Andreas.
I noticed on my nasal spray today that it says, in HUGE letters, that it’s only for internasal use. ONLY FOR INTERNASAL USE. In huuuuuge letters. Shit, because I was totally douching with it, and wondering why it wasn’t working, you know? But then I thought, no, no, they NEED to put that shit on there, because one time at the answering service someone called and said they’d been…um…inserting? Their birth control pills? In their…lady bits? And just, a few days later, realized what oral meant? And wanted to know if they were going to get pregnant. NO I AM NOT KIDDING. I know. I KNOW.
Oh! Oh, and, I meant to put this here but totally got distracted by something shiny, I don’t know, leftover Christmas tinsel, could have been anything, really. Here is a STORY I told the INTERWEBS that is like a mini-blog post. It is because my lovely Twitter friends Cara and Jim admired my Audioboo poetry I put up earlier in the week, but wanted to hear my REAL voice, not my calm intellectual poetry-ready voice. And listen, I’m happy to oblige. I think you all should hear what a normal conversation with me sounds like, right? I mean, it’s only fair.
So here is an almost-three-minute story of a ghost dog, only there really are no ghosts in it. That’s a misleading description. It is an aural representation of a blog post. AURAL, I said, get your minds out of the gutter, that’s AU-aural, not the OTHER kind, Ding Dong Joe. YES. This is me in real life. I mean, when I’m happy. Obviously, when I’m pissed off, I don’t run around telling happy funny stories about ghost-dogs or the lack thereof. Rich mentioned on his blog that he used to date someone who went off on tangents a lot in high school. Rich, I think this will give you pleasant high-school flashbacks. If I do nothing else today, I gave Rich a nice high-school flashback. That’s nice, right? Sure it is. Sure thing.
(Also, YES, sometimes when I am telling a story, people say, “Amy, AMY, please, get to your point,” or they sigh and hold their head like they’re getting a migraine, or they look at their watch pointedly. But seriously, THINK HOW BORING LIFE WOULD BE IF WE ALL STUCK TO THE POINT ALL THE TIME. I don’t want to live in that world. Do you? Think of how bored you would be. The MOST, is how, don’t even try to deny it.)
OK. This has been EXHAUSTING and ALL OVER THE BOARD so I’m just going to wind it all up in a little ball and call it a day. Happy weekend! I’m seeing TWO PLAYS this weekend, no joke, this is just going to be the best. AND I will still have blog posts, don’t EVEN worry your pretty little heads! (Autocorrect just turned that into pretty little beads. Pretty little beads? What the hell, autocorrect, that’s not even a THING.)
Happy weekend happy weeeeekend!