~In an animated discussion, when is a discussion with me not animated? Anyhoo I was going into a verbal diarrhea fit about neighbors and my keen observation of the burbs when my mom stated, "You know who you are? You're Gladys Kravitiz!" Don't know who that is? Look it up.
And so what if I am? I am outside wrangling my kids everyday, it isn't hard for me to notice you in your bathrobe, getting the mail, at 2:30 P.M. I'd be blind not to notice.
Really Gladys was misunderstood. Much like myself.
Cue the violins.
~I am getting pretty perturbed over the music choices lately. Top 40 is a cesspool of sex and stupid choices. Case in point: I couldn't help but notice the lyrics in a song called "Take it Off" by Ke$ha...
"And now we lookin, like pimps In my gold Trans-Am. Got a water bottle full of whiskey. In my handbag."
Okay I don't know if you have open container laws in your state, but we do. And a water bottle filled with whiskey would be an open container.
What is this teaching our kids??
Whiskey is a brown liquor, easily noticed in a water bottle. Now vodka or a certain translucent type of tequila would be a wiser choice to store in a clear container.
If you are going to influence my children to break the law, I rather you not be stupid about it. Thank you very much Ke$ha.
Okay serious now. Drinking and driving is as about as dumb as they come. And although I get that the bottle is in her handbag, not in her mouth, it still is a horrid thing to sing about. Especially since people still don't get that driving drunk KILLS PEOPLE EVERYDAY!!!
~Of course I realize the obvious here, that I am complaining about my kids music. Nothing says "old" like complaining about your kids choice in music.
And gray hair. I has one. Right up front. It's short. And it sticks up. I pluck it. But it is a magic gray hair. It comes back. With a vengeance. So I gave up the battle.
Gray hair is now my friend.
I call her Gladys.
~Talking about old, after complaining about certain womanly issues I was told I was peri-menopausal. Excuse me while I go cry now. Not because I am sad, I am just so god-damn hormonal. I just don't know why I am crying, I just am. What's it to you anyway?
How long will it take my husband to figure out that the best cure for a peri-menopausal woman is chocolate? I think a pool is in order. Any takers?
~I have a sick kid today. I sense puke-detail. Say a prayer for me.