CWC, on movie selections . . .
Sally: I found some movies on OnDemand we could watch.
Curtis: Okay, what?
Sally: _The Afflicted_ . . .
Curtis: Uh huh.
Sally: _The Flat_ . . .
Curtis: Yeah.
Sally: _Hitler's Children_ . . .
Curtis: Okay.
Sally: Or _How to Survive a Plague_.
Curtis: So, child abuse, 2 Nazi movies, and a movie about AIDS. SallyLand is a very dark place, isn't it?
Sunday, November 18, 2012
Monday, September 10, 2012
Yeah, well, I have more time off. So there.
On the subject of job perks . . .
Curtis: It's Waffle Week at work.
Sally: What does that mean?
Curtis: I just got this email: "We're celebrating National Waffle Week. Please join us in the 7th floor café on Thursday, September 13 from 8:30–10am with a delicious Belgian waffle breakfast. Enjoy freshly made-to-order Belgian waffles covered in all your favorite toppings including strawberries, blueberries, maple syrup, powdered sugar and whipped cream."
Sally: I hate your stupid job, with your Mr. Omelette visits, and your box seats at baseball games, and your fancy winter parties, and your quarterly team-building exercises, which just sound like excuses to get shellacqued. If there were a bed here in my office, I'd throw myself down on it and cry.
Curtis: You could do that here. We have a Quiet Room.
Sally: Is that like a breastfeeding room?
Curtis: No, it's different from the breastfeeding room. The Quiet Room has a big comfy reclining chair, and if you just need 30 minutes to yourself, for like a nap or something, you can go in there anytime you want. If you need it longer, you have to sign out blocks of time.
Sally: Go to hell.
Curtis: It's Waffle Week at work.
Sally: What does that mean?
Curtis: I just got this email: "We're celebrating National Waffle Week. Please join us in the 7th floor café on Thursday, September 13 from 8:30–10am with a delicious Belgian waffle breakfast. Enjoy freshly made-to-order Belgian waffles covered in all your favorite toppings including strawberries, blueberries, maple syrup, powdered sugar and whipped cream."
Sally: I hate your stupid job, with your Mr. Omelette visits, and your box seats at baseball games, and your fancy winter parties, and your quarterly team-building exercises, which just sound like excuses to get shellacqued. If there were a bed here in my office, I'd throw myself down on it and cry.
Curtis: You could do that here. We have a Quiet Room.
Sally: Is that like a breastfeeding room?
Curtis: No, it's different from the breastfeeding room. The Quiet Room has a big comfy reclining chair, and if you just need 30 minutes to yourself, for like a nap or something, you can go in there anytime you want. If you need it longer, you have to sign out blocks of time.
Sally: Go to hell.
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
The zoo
We are eternally looking for, noticing, discussing, and thinking about cute animals. A common exclamation is "Aw, look at that little baby!" and "There's a cute thing!", whenever we spy something adorable out and about.
The other night, we were chatting in the kitchen when Curtis, as he is wont to do, made me aware of something cute: "Aw, look at that little cute thing!" he said, pointing to the corner. It took a second to sink in before he realized: "Oh God! That's Bubby! Bubby, you aren't supposed to be out!"
So yeah, the unexpected cute thing in the corner of the kitchen? One of our chinchillas, who had escaped when one of us didn't lock the door all the way.
Chasing ensued.
The other night, we were chatting in the kitchen when Curtis, as he is wont to do, made me aware of something cute: "Aw, look at that little cute thing!" he said, pointing to the corner. It took a second to sink in before he realized: "Oh God! That's Bubby! Bubby, you aren't supposed to be out!"
So yeah, the unexpected cute thing in the corner of the kitchen? One of our chinchillas, who had escaped when one of us didn't lock the door all the way.
Chasing ensued.
Dispatches from a parallel universe
Six or seven years ago (or more) I signed up for PerfectMatch, then completely forgot about it, because I never received any matches, and then I started dating the guy I later married.
I forgot about it, that is, until today, when I received a notification that a guy named "Kurt" was my match. He's very much like my husband (into politics, gardening, and the outdoors; is relaxed and optimistic), so I notified Curtis that he had some competition:
Sally: Well, I have a type, I guess. Pretty funny.
Curtis: Aside from the Christian, country music and healthy food choice he's pretty close to me. I'm going to keep my eye on this Kurt fellow.
Sally: Don't front. You know you were listening to Kenny Chesney and eating quinoa on our way to the snake-handling the other day.
I forgot about it, that is, until today, when I received a notification that a guy named "Kurt" was my match. He's very much like my husband (into politics, gardening, and the outdoors; is relaxed and optimistic), so I notified Curtis that he had some competition:
Sally: Well, I have a type, I guess. Pretty funny.
Curtis: Aside from the Christian, country music and healthy food choice he's pretty close to me. I'm going to keep my eye on this Kurt fellow.
Sally: Don't front. You know you were listening to Kenny Chesney and eating quinoa on our way to the snake-handling the other day.
Sunday, August 19, 2012
It changes when you get older
Disclaimer: I can't remember who I had this conversation with. I feel like it was either Curtis, Jim, or Tracy, but I'm not sure.
On terms changing with age . . .
Sally: I would totally ride in a stroller. That looks so comfortable.
Other person: Yeah.
Sally: I wish they made strollers for adults.
Other person: That's called a wheelchair.
On terms changing with age . . .
Sally: I would totally ride in a stroller. That looks so comfortable.
Other person: Yeah.
Sally: I wish they made strollers for adults.
Other person: That's called a wheelchair.
Sunday, August 5, 2012
Facing Death Daily
On Celebrating with and through Pain:
I met my very best friend in the entire world, Tracy, when
we started in graduate school at the same time at the University of South
Carolina, in August 1997. I won’t go into the unpleasant details, but my time
there was not the happiest period of my life.
Things did improve, though, and I made friends both in
school and in the city. Not the least of them being Tracy.
One of the first things we created was “Tracy and Sally Face
Death Daily!” This statement refers to the fact that we were always barely
dodging some form of automobile-related death. As our friend Jason said: Tracy
knows traffic laws, and chooses to ignore them. Sally isn’t aware that
traffic laws exist.
Beyond all of the unpleasantness of my first time around in graduate school, she became the sister I never had. She and I had our good times and bad, and we made it through
all of them. We lived together for four years, and when we made the decision to
live separately, it was honestly like we got a divorce. But, like all good
couples who are wonderful together, but who are just not meant to live in the same residence, we came back
together later and are stronger than ever.
She was there for me through my mother’s illness and death;
she was the maid of honor at my wedding (and she even gave a toast, under
duress; I'm looking down her dress in the next photo);
and she was there when I was almost arrested for the illegal transportation of an easel.
and she was there when I was almost arrested for the illegal transportation of an easel.
She is the only person who can dole out tough love to me,
even though my husband attempts it. When he does it, it manifests as him
yelling at me and me telling him to stop being mean. Then he apologizes, and I
go back to doing whatever self-destructive or ill-advised thing I was doing
before, because he’s afraid to stop me. She, on the other hand, can talk me
down out of any tree.
For our 10th anniversary, she told me that we
were going to re-create our first bonding experience: we spent the Saturday
before Labor Day in Charleston, SC. The first time she and I hung out, it was on the Saturday before Labor Day, in Charleston, in 1997. There were other people there, but one of them
I prefer not to speak to, another I’d like to see but can’t find, and the other
I’d rather never see again.
But I digress.
For our 10th anniversary, though, we were going to go to Charleston for a whole weekend.
We were going to stay in a nice hotel, and we were going to eat nice meals, and we
were going to shop.
Most importantly, there was a spa in our hotel, the venerable Francis Marion, and we were going to do Spa Things.
Most importantly, there was a spa in our hotel, the venerable Francis Marion, and we were going to do Spa Things.
Most of that went well. We ate a delicious dinner at
Slightly North Of Broad (S.N.O.B.); we shopped on King Street; we wandered
around the city.
And we did Spa Things.
We each had two procedures: we each got some sort of wrap,
both of which went well.
And Tracy got a scalp massage. And I got a hot stone
massage. Those didn’t go as well.
I’d never had a hot stone massage before, but I was
entranced by the idea: warm, smooth stones are placed in strategic places on
your back, thereby turning your muscles to butter, and making you feel nice and
relaxed. Sounds lovely, right?
I’ve since been told by others that what I experienced was
not normal. And if it is normal, then I’m pretty sure it was created by the
Marquis de Sade. And even he found it uncomfortable.
The first three rocks the guy put on my back were
blisteringly hot. And I do mean “blisteringly.” They left gigantic rock-shaped
blisters on my tailbone and lower spine. When he put the first one on, I really
did think it was going to melt through to the towel I was lying on. I gasped, wincing through
tears, “That’s really hot.” He said, “They’re supposed to be.” Next
Phoenix-in-August asphalt sphere, please!
By the time he’d gotten to the end, my nerve endings had shorted
out and I’d reached this strange sort of pain-induced nirvana, so it actually
felt good. When the wrap began, I just went to sleep. I now understand that I
was probably in shock.
I came out, a bit dazed and wide-eyed, in this uncomfortably
euphoric state, and found Tracy paying, and looking annoyed.
Sally: How’d it go?
Tracy: Fine. Let’s go.
Sally: Okay . . .
Out on the street, she turned to me and fumed:
Tracy: I can’t believe I got a scalp massage!
Sally: Why?
Tracy: I basically just paid someone $45 to rub my head for
10 minutes. With oil. So now my hair’s dirty, and I need to take another
shower.
Sally: Okay.
Tracy: Are you okay?
Sally: Yeah. My butt sort of hurts.
Tracy: What did you have done, exactly?
Sally: Hot stone massage. Does my back look okay?
Tracy: Holy shit! That’s blistering!
Sally: Oh. Let’s go eat.
Tracy: Are you okay?
Sally: Yeah. (I wasn’t.)
So this Labor Day, for our 15th anniversary, we’re
Facing Death Daily again, in Spa form. We couldn’t make it back to Charleston
this year, so instead we’re going to the Charleston of Northern Virginia: Old
Town Alexandria.
Go ahead and start sending flowers to the burn ward at Inova Alexandria.
About a Glass
My mother loved beer. She never wanted to drink a whole bottle all at
once; that wasn't ladylike. Instead, she wanted to drink it out of a
little fancy glass.
Whenever I came home to see my mom, I would call to ask her what I needed to pick up on the way. Once, we had the now-classic conversation:
Sally: What do you need?
Mom: [Various groceries]
Sally: Anything else?
Mom: Cigarettes. We're out of cigarettes.
Sally: Okay. Got it.
Mom: Hold on. [confers with Dad off-phone] Your dad says you should buy some lottery tickets. He thinks you're lucky.
Sally: Has he met me? Okay, lottery tickets. Got it.
Mom: Oh, and beer. We don't have any beer, so get some.
Sally: Okay. So: cigarettes, lottery tickets, and beer. Would you like me to get you some hookers, too, Mom?
Mom: No, I think we're all full up here.
Anyhoo, I'd buy her the beer of her choice, and then she would drink a 6-pack, measured out in fancy little glasses.
When I brought Curtis home for the first time, she was delighted to have a partner in her beer-drinking; I'm not a beer fan, so I never wanted to share beer with her. Aunt Connie was a wine drinker. Dad would sometimes indulge her, but he had died a year and a half earlier.
Curtis, on the other hand, was happy to. This was how they bonded.
Scene: Curtis and I arrive at my mother's house. We bring up all of our luggage, and Mom enthusiastically tells me how hot he is. Curtis is unpacking the groceries, and he asks if I want a glass of wine, and he asks Mom if she wants anything to drink.
Mom: What are you having?
Curtis: I'm having beer. Sally can have her stupid wine.
Mom: How about we split one?
Curtis: Sure!
And she shows him the little glass she drinks beer out of, the little fancy one.
And every time Curtis and I went to see her, they split beers, Curtis drinking out of the bottle, Mom drinking out of the little fancy glass. She tended to like lighter, gentler beers: lagers and pilsners.
Mom and Curtis bonded, and I often suspected she liked him more than she liked me. When she was in and out of the hospital over the course of a year and a half, he went with me every time to see her.
And when she died in 2009, and we cleaned out her house, he made sure he took one thing.
Here's to you, Murm. Drinking a glass of Tilted Smile Imperial Pilsner in your memory. We love you. We miss you every day.
Whenever I came home to see my mom, I would call to ask her what I needed to pick up on the way. Once, we had the now-classic conversation:
Sally: What do you need?
Mom: [Various groceries]
Sally: Anything else?
Mom: Cigarettes. We're out of cigarettes.
Sally: Okay. Got it.
Mom: Hold on. [confers with Dad off-phone] Your dad says you should buy some lottery tickets. He thinks you're lucky.
Sally: Has he met me? Okay, lottery tickets. Got it.
Mom: Oh, and beer. We don't have any beer, so get some.
Sally: Okay. So: cigarettes, lottery tickets, and beer. Would you like me to get you some hookers, too, Mom?
Mom: No, I think we're all full up here.
Anyhoo, I'd buy her the beer of her choice, and then she would drink a 6-pack, measured out in fancy little glasses.
When I brought Curtis home for the first time, she was delighted to have a partner in her beer-drinking; I'm not a beer fan, so I never wanted to share beer with her. Aunt Connie was a wine drinker. Dad would sometimes indulge her, but he had died a year and a half earlier.
Curtis, on the other hand, was happy to. This was how they bonded.
Scene: Curtis and I arrive at my mother's house. We bring up all of our luggage, and Mom enthusiastically tells me how hot he is. Curtis is unpacking the groceries, and he asks if I want a glass of wine, and he asks Mom if she wants anything to drink.
Mom: What are you having?
Curtis: I'm having beer. Sally can have her stupid wine.
Mom: How about we split one?
Curtis: Sure!
And she shows him the little glass she drinks beer out of, the little fancy one.
And every time Curtis and I went to see her, they split beers, Curtis drinking out of the bottle, Mom drinking out of the little fancy glass. She tended to like lighter, gentler beers: lagers and pilsners.
Mom and Curtis bonded, and I often suspected she liked him more than she liked me. When she was in and out of the hospital over the course of a year and a half, he went with me every time to see her.
And when she died in 2009, and we cleaned out her house, he made sure he took one thing.
Here's to you, Murm. Drinking a glass of Tilted Smile Imperial Pilsner in your memory. We love you. We miss you every day.
Saturday, July 28, 2012
CorgiWatch: Day Two
On Important Things in London, Where There Also Appears to Be Some Sort of Track-and-Field Event:
Curtis: What are you doing?
Sally: [looking at laptop] Looking at the corgis. Thinking about what they might be doing right now.
Curtis: How long have you been up?
Sally: About an hour.
Curtis: I'll bet you thought about them all night.
Sally: I did.
Curtis: I thought you were going to take it easy today.
Sally: I am. Why?
Curtis: Well, I'm just afraid you're going to get yourself all worked up over the corgis.
Sally: I can lie down if I get tired.
Curtis: What are you doing?
Sally: [looking at laptop] Looking at the corgis. Thinking about what they might be doing right now.
Curtis: How long have you been up?
Sally: About an hour.
Curtis: I'll bet you thought about them all night.
Sally: I did.
Curtis: I thought you were going to take it easy today.
Sally: I am. Why?
Curtis: Well, I'm just afraid you're going to get yourself all worked up over the corgis.
Sally: I can lie down if I get tired.
Wednesday, July 25, 2012
Hello, Pot? This is the Kettle.
On Bad Taste in Internet Matters . . .
Curtis: What are you looking up?:
Sally: I'm trying to find a site about taxidermy classes in DC, for Jill. I found this. *
Curtis: I really need to keep you away from the Internet.
Sally: But first, look at the site we talked about before, that you really wanted to see. The chat forum from my hometown. Maybe start with "Anyone no when the next ged tests are?".
* No, it's not in DC, but that's what came up.
Curtis: What are you looking up?:
Sally: I'm trying to find a site about taxidermy classes in DC, for Jill. I found this. *
Curtis: I really need to keep you away from the Internet.
Sally: But first, look at the site we talked about before, that you really wanted to see. The chat forum from my hometown. Maybe start with "Anyone no when the next ged tests are?".
* No, it's not in DC, but that's what came up.
Vanity, Thy Name Is Sally
On the subject of Spa Time . . .
Sally: When JB & TH come up, I think that TH and I are going to go do spa things.
Curtis: Okay.
Sally: I think you and JB should do spa things too. Like, he could get a pedicure, and you could get a haircut, at that fancy-man place in Old Town Alexandria.
Curtis: Do you think that JB and I are girls?
Sally: No.
Curtis: Okay, girls with penises, then.
Sally: No.
Curtis: I understand that you think that JB and I are going to go get pedicures and hairstyles and then skip around with shopping bags and titter, but that is not what is going to happen at all. We're going to go to a bar, and we're going to drink, and we might talk about stuff, but none of it will have anything to do with exfoliation.
Sally: Okay, fine. Can you help me with something?
Curtis: Most likely not.
Sally: I was looking over this menu of spa services, and I was wondering what you think TH would like best.
Curtis: I don't care.
Sally: Look at this list of four things, and tell me what you think we should do.
Curtis: This is all horseshit. I have no idea what any of this is.
Sally: I think I might get the cellulite rub.
Curtis: Does that mean they rub your cellulite, or that they rub you WITH cellulite?
Sally: Forget it.
Curtis: Done.
Sally: When JB & TH come up, I think that TH and I are going to go do spa things.
Curtis: Okay.
Sally: I think you and JB should do spa things too. Like, he could get a pedicure, and you could get a haircut, at that fancy-man place in Old Town Alexandria.
Curtis: Do you think that JB and I are girls?
Sally: No.
Curtis: Okay, girls with penises, then.
Sally: No.
Curtis: I understand that you think that JB and I are going to go get pedicures and hairstyles and then skip around with shopping bags and titter, but that is not what is going to happen at all. We're going to go to a bar, and we're going to drink, and we might talk about stuff, but none of it will have anything to do with exfoliation.
Sally: Okay, fine. Can you help me with something?
Curtis: Most likely not.
Sally: I was looking over this menu of spa services, and I was wondering what you think TH would like best.
Curtis: I don't care.
Sally: Look at this list of four things, and tell me what you think we should do.
Curtis: This is all horseshit. I have no idea what any of this is.
Sally: I think I might get the cellulite rub.
Curtis: Does that mean they rub your cellulite, or that they rub you WITH cellulite?
Sally: Forget it.
Curtis: Done.
Sunday, July 15, 2012
Where can I NOT get one of these?
We love watching shows about animals, including Dogs 101. This particular episode we're watching now is about "Designer Dogs": Labradoodles, Cockapoos, etc.
In the beginning of the show, they were showing examples of these dogs: Pug + Beagle = Puggle, Chihuahua + Yorkie = Chorkie (which is one of the worst names ever). One combination caused us alarm, leading to the following conversation, "On a Worse Dog Than the Xoloitzcuintli, Which Is Now the Second-Worst Dog in the Entire World":
Dogs 101 Narrator: And there's the Border Jack, a cross between a Border Collie and a Jack Russell!
Sally: That is the worst idea ever.
Curtis: Seriously. I can't imagine who thought this would be a good idea.
Dogs 101 Narrator: It combines the intelligence and energy of a Border Collie with the intelligence and energy of a Jack Russell!
Sally: Wow. That is seriously a bad combination.
Curtis: That dog would move you out of your house and take over your bank account.
Sally: While jumping up and down and annoying the shit out of you the whole time.
In the beginning of the show, they were showing examples of these dogs: Pug + Beagle = Puggle, Chihuahua + Yorkie = Chorkie (which is one of the worst names ever). One combination caused us alarm, leading to the following conversation, "On a Worse Dog Than the Xoloitzcuintli, Which Is Now the Second-Worst Dog in the Entire World":
Dogs 101 Narrator: And there's the Border Jack, a cross between a Border Collie and a Jack Russell!
Sally: That is the worst idea ever.
Curtis: Seriously. I can't imagine who thought this would be a good idea.
Dogs 101 Narrator: It combines the intelligence and energy of a Border Collie with the intelligence and energy of a Jack Russell!
Sally: Wow. That is seriously a bad combination.
Curtis: That dog would move you out of your house and take over your bank account.
Sally: While jumping up and down and annoying the shit out of you the whole time.
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
Careful with that quilt, buddy. Also my wife.
In July, I'm going to get to see something I've wanted to see for years: the AIDS Quilt. When I saw that it was coming back to DC, I was thrilled.
What was even more thrilling? The opportunity to volunteer. Not only would I get to see the Quilt . . . I could touch it. I could help.
Excited, I volunteered to help set up. I told Curtis I was volunteering, and he asked what I was doing.
And with that, on the subject of mindful volunteering and avoiding nutjobs. . .
Sally: I wanted to be a Quilt Monitor, but I didn't think I would be able to on any days they would need me. So I signed up to set up.
Curtis: What's a Quilt Monitor?
Sally: You hang out around the quilt and make sure no one's hurting it, and--
Curtis: Don't do that. I don't want you to do that.
Sally: Why not? People could try to damage it, or steal it.
Curtis: There will be crazy people and homophobes out there, and I'm afraid they'll hurt or attack you, when you're just doing something good.
Sally: I'd be fine. There would be other people around. It wouldn't just be me alone with a giant quilt.
Curtis: No, I don't want you to do that. I'm afraid some crazy gay-basher will go after you, just to get to the quilt to damage it.
Sally: Well, there's more to the job. You're also there to give information, and you're on the lookout for people who are upset and overcome, to offer comfort and support.
Curtis: You'd be good at that, because you're a sweet baby. But I just don't want you to get hurt by some dumbass.
Sally: I'd be in the Smithsonian.
Curtis: Crazy people go to the Smithsonian every day. Please just set it up.
Sally: Okay. I don't think I can do it anyway.
Curtis: I just worry about you.
What was even more thrilling? The opportunity to volunteer. Not only would I get to see the Quilt . . . I could touch it. I could help.
Excited, I volunteered to help set up. I told Curtis I was volunteering, and he asked what I was doing.
And with that, on the subject of mindful volunteering and avoiding nutjobs. . .
Sally: I wanted to be a Quilt Monitor, but I didn't think I would be able to on any days they would need me. So I signed up to set up.
Curtis: What's a Quilt Monitor?
Sally: You hang out around the quilt and make sure no one's hurting it, and--
Curtis: Don't do that. I don't want you to do that.
Sally: Why not? People could try to damage it, or steal it.
Curtis: There will be crazy people and homophobes out there, and I'm afraid they'll hurt or attack you, when you're just doing something good.
Sally: I'd be fine. There would be other people around. It wouldn't just be me alone with a giant quilt.
Curtis: No, I don't want you to do that. I'm afraid some crazy gay-basher will go after you, just to get to the quilt to damage it.
Sally: Well, there's more to the job. You're also there to give information, and you're on the lookout for people who are upset and overcome, to offer comfort and support.
Curtis: You'd be good at that, because you're a sweet baby. But I just don't want you to get hurt by some dumbass.
Sally: I'd be in the Smithsonian.
Curtis: Crazy people go to the Smithsonian every day. Please just set it up.
Sally: Okay. I don't think I can do it anyway.
Curtis: I just worry about you.
Thursday, April 19, 2012
She looks so natural . . .
A Small Interlude, on the subject of my beauty rituals . . .
Jim: Come on, let's go.
Sally: Wait, I have to put on some makeup, so I don't look dead.
Jim: Really? I was always under the impression your makeup was meant to make you look MORE dead.
Jim: Come on, let's go.
Sally: Wait, I have to put on some makeup, so I don't look dead.
Jim: Really? I was always under the impression your makeup was meant to make you look MORE dead.
Friday, April 6, 2012
Her favorite words
On the subject of my mother worrying about my mental health . . .
"Heart-Shaped Box" by Nirvana plays in the background
Sally: This was another one of those songs that Mom was convinced would warp me.
Curtis: Looks like she was right.
Sally: To be fair, we don't know if it was this particular song that did it, or pretty much everything else I listened to that wasn't Johnny Mathis. She said it about Depeche Mode, Pearl Jam, Nine Inch Nails, Lo Fidelity All-Stars, you name it, it was going to send me screaming down the road to perdition. Sometimes it was the words, sometimes just the music. "This is going to drive you completely insane," she'd say.
Curtis: Well, listening to it certainly didn't HELP you, did it? It's not like listening to any of them made you a mentally balanced upright citizen. Probably just the opposite.
Sally: True. I'm sure she'd love to know she's right. Again.
Curtis: Oh, she knows.
"Heart-Shaped Box" by Nirvana plays in the background
Sally: This was another one of those songs that Mom was convinced would warp me.
Curtis: Looks like she was right.
Sally: To be fair, we don't know if it was this particular song that did it, or pretty much everything else I listened to that wasn't Johnny Mathis. She said it about Depeche Mode, Pearl Jam, Nine Inch Nails, Lo Fidelity All-Stars, you name it, it was going to send me screaming down the road to perdition. Sometimes it was the words, sometimes just the music. "This is going to drive you completely insane," she'd say.
Curtis: Well, listening to it certainly didn't HELP you, did it? It's not like listening to any of them made you a mentally balanced upright citizen. Probably just the opposite.
Sally: True. I'm sure she'd love to know she's right. Again.
Curtis: Oh, she knows.
Saturday, February 18, 2012
See this a lot, do you?
On violence against women:
While watching the most recent episode of L&O: SVU . . .
Curtis: Wow, you don't normally see women get punched in the stomach.
Sally: Um . . . where do you normally see women get punched?
Curtis: In the face.
Sally: What do you do while I'm not around?
While watching the most recent episode of L&O: SVU . . .
Curtis: Wow, you don't normally see women get punched in the stomach.
Sally: Um . . . where do you normally see women get punched?
Curtis: In the face.
Sally: What do you do while I'm not around?
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Running, jumping, climbing trees
On the subject of exercise:
Curtis: There's a Parkour gym in Arlington.
Sally: Huh.
Curtis: Would you go to that?
Sally: Are you insane? I have enough trouble walking around on a normal day without breaking bones. I can't imagine how Parkour would be a good idea for someone who breaks her back falling down one step, or breaks a rib dancing in a gay bar.
Curtis: Yeah, I guess not. There's a Parkour meetup, too.
Sally: What would that entail? Running around, bouncing off of things?
Curtis: I suppose.
Sally: You know they're all going to be complete douches, too. So if I went, my practice of Parkour would quickly devolve into kickboxing, as I would end up beating half of them to death. But, hey, it's exercise.
Curtis: There's a Parkour gym in Arlington.
Sally: Huh.
Curtis: Would you go to that?
Sally: Are you insane? I have enough trouble walking around on a normal day without breaking bones. I can't imagine how Parkour would be a good idea for someone who breaks her back falling down one step, or breaks a rib dancing in a gay bar.
Curtis: Yeah, I guess not. There's a Parkour meetup, too.
Sally: What would that entail? Running around, bouncing off of things?
Curtis: I suppose.
Sally: You know they're all going to be complete douches, too. So if I went, my practice of Parkour would quickly devolve into kickboxing, as I would end up beating half of them to death. But, hey, it's exercise.
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Those eagles must have an awesome propaganda team
While watching a documentary about Alaskan wildlife . . .
Curtis: Look at all those bald eagles. Seriously, they're everywhere.
Sally: What? I thought those things were endangered.
Curtis: Apparently not.
Sally: Weird.
Curtis: I can't wait until Ron Paul wins, so I can start hunting bald eagles for sport and food.
Curtis: Look at all those bald eagles. Seriously, they're everywhere.
Sally: What? I thought those things were endangered.
Curtis: Apparently not.
Sally: Weird.
Curtis: I can't wait until Ron Paul wins, so I can start hunting bald eagles for sport and food.
Monday, January 9, 2012
Planning ahead
On the subject of one's demise, as we drive past a cemetery:
Sally: There are all these little marble benches over there. Are you going to have a little marble bench made for me when I die?
Curtis: No.
Sally: Well, what are you going to do?
Curtis: For what?
Sally: For me! When I die! What are you going to do?
Curtis: I don't know.
Sally: Well, you need to think about it. You need to throw me a big party when I'm dead, and you need to start working on this now, or you'll never get it done.
Curtis: I'll put Jim, or Carolyn, or Tracy, or someone in charge of it. I'll be too bereaved to plan your death party.
Sally: And by "bereaved," I'm assuming you mean "lazy."
Curtis: You got it. And make sure you tell them to remind me to show up. That's what you were in charge of when you were alive, and once you're dead, I'll never remember to do anything social.
Sally: I'll also tell them to say "Is that what you're wearing? No, really" when they see you.
Curtis: It'll be just like when you were alive. Can you have them hang a sign like that on your casket?
Sally: Of course. But you can't put Carolyn in charge of my burial or anything. She'll have me taxidermied. Just the party.
Sally: There are all these little marble benches over there. Are you going to have a little marble bench made for me when I die?
Curtis: No.
Sally: Well, what are you going to do?
Curtis: For what?
Sally: For me! When I die! What are you going to do?
Curtis: I don't know.
Sally: Well, you need to think about it. You need to throw me a big party when I'm dead, and you need to start working on this now, or you'll never get it done.
Curtis: I'll put Jim, or Carolyn, or Tracy, or someone in charge of it. I'll be too bereaved to plan your death party.
Sally: And by "bereaved," I'm assuming you mean "lazy."
Curtis: You got it. And make sure you tell them to remind me to show up. That's what you were in charge of when you were alive, and once you're dead, I'll never remember to do anything social.
Sally: I'll also tell them to say "Is that what you're wearing? No, really" when they see you.
Curtis: It'll be just like when you were alive. Can you have them hang a sign like that on your casket?
Sally: Of course. But you can't put Carolyn in charge of my burial or anything. She'll have me taxidermied. Just the party.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
