2. Tomorrow my mini-me turns nine. NINE. I just do not see HOW this is possible; I mean, come on, there is no way that I am anywhere near old enough to have a nine-year-old as one of my 'little' boys. If he's nine, that means Sam is seven, which means I am..........shit. Old, that's what I am. Here are Jay and I in a self-portrait at the state fair back in September on some ride that nearly shook our livers out. BTW, that's not my finger in front of me, even though it looks like it is. I'm just doing the Myspace duck lip look...he's got the gangsta fingers flyin'.
3. My school collects aluminum pull tabs. Sorry, Estee. It's not a legend.
4. I like wine. A lot. I wish I had more money for it.
5. The people who make policy in education in Tennessee, as well as at a national level, are buffoons. As long as education is a political issue, it will continue to be mired in b.s. Our state is now going to require FOUR years of math and science. Okay. I can almost, sort of, live with that. But the fourth math? Must be higher than Algebra II. Um, okay. That leaves trig, calculus, pre-calculus or statistics. That also means that everyone has to take Algebra II. Quick, think back to high school--do ya think everyone in your class could have/would have passed Algebra II? Uh, not just no, but fuck no. Yet the PTB seem to think that kids have magically gotten smarter over the generations and will just embrace higher-order math skills because they have to. Yeah, right. Their asses will be dropping like flies...hello, NCLB target list. WOOT!
6. I need someone to create a viable protein pill so that I can live off of popcorn and Lorna Doones. Get to work on that, mmmkay smart peeps?
7. I actually had a reason to come post, but I cannot for the life of me remember what it was.
8. Did I mention that I love wine? That probably explains number 7.
9. W. made me chocolate chip cookies. He's ridiculously good to me.
10. I did not get my living room clean per the previous post. I did get the bathroom cabinet and counter and drawers cleaned up and the kitchen sort of straightened. It was cloudy and cold and gloomy and I ended up succombing to the pull of the aforementioned domestic epicenter.
11. For some reason I am leaning back as I type this. Turning my head to the right, too. I'm almost cross-eyed and in a backbend while I sit here. I do believe that it is due to numbers 7 and 4 and thus, I must go to bed.
Labels: all the cool kids like Dweeze have blogs, inebriation, kids, mr kim, pictures, sad, who doesn't love a list
- bananas
- whole wheat baguettey french bread from kroger
- max factor volume couture mascara in soft black or auburn
- cheese
- flip flops
- laminating
- sharp scissors
- cheap bottled water from aldi
- maroon 5
- muscle sculpting classes at the Y
- digital cameras
- pedicures
- cinnamon graham crackers
- short hair
- hot tubs
- boats
- banana boat sunscreen spray
- ipod
- dvr'd top chef and the closer
- a well written sentence
- london and new york
- hair straightening products and utensils
- myspace surveys
- stila tinted moisturizer
- cold zin
- lavendar and maroon
- blogs
- freshmen
- wedge sandals
- grilled chicken
things i hate:
- sweating in the car
- leg cramps
- yaz birth control pills
- protein shakes
- squash
- putting away laundry
- torturous undies
- shaving my legs
- 'pro' wrestling
- senior girls with attitude
- smelly middle schoolers
- frigging legos
- step aerobics
- bad local commercials
- morons on message boards
- spammers on myspace
- balancing my checking accounts
- being late
- being so far away from friends
- dog hair
- spider veins
- hangnails
- woody allen movies
- road contruction
- drunken neighbors
- cartoons
- arm fat
- run on sentences
- holy rollers
- getting old
Labels: English, fashion, food, getting old, imaginary friends, inebriation, makeup, meme, physical exertion, ramble, stupid normal people, television, travel, who doesn't love a list
Labels: getting old, inebriation, mindless entertainment
Just feel the temptation to drink yourself into oblivion? Once upon a time, I could drink with no regard for the after effects. I'd drink a fair amount, be blitzty and maybe have a headache the next day or feel a little funky. That was it. Every once in a great while, I had the misfortune to throw up--usually when I made the mistake to drink tequila in some form or fashion or when I just REALLY overdid it with something like beer and had some weird food, but I could probably count those times on both hands (like anyone really cares about that). Sidenote, Cary wasn't around when I had my really unfortunate run-in with tequila at the AGR house my freshman year, where I learned the hard way that one shouldn't mix gin, vodka, rum, beer, schnapps, and the evil tequila. From that day forward, the mere smell of tequila is enough to make me queasy and every other time I've tried to drink it, I've ended up sick....I remember being at The Lap once and learning that the hard way and Cary was there for that, I believe. A sink was involved, dear heavens, and some Tri Delt's shoes, perhaps...ah, good times and oh, so classy. Oh...and speaking of puking...eeek, Cary, do you remember the puking out our apartment window by the Kappa Sig? Ack! The memories. I should stop now because, well, I'm suddenly remembering things that are probably best left quashed.
And back from that digression....the point of the post was something totally different. It was...oh, yeah, it was at some point, I became old. I realized this when I became totally unable to process alcohol. Drinking sucks now because it makes me feel like total shit. That is, I feel like shit on the rare occasion I can actually drink more than one drink. Usually I don't even feel like drinking that much because I've sort of lost the taste for it. Not that I was really ever one to set out to be drunk on a regular or even semi-regular basis, but still, I did drink more than one beer at a sitting back in "the day", which was, oh, three years ago. Now it's like trying to force feed Ensure down Granny at the home for me to finish a stupid wine cooler (and yes, I actually drink the damn things. How gauche, I know). Every once in awhile, I get a whim and mix up something girly and fun like a nice daquari or something and I can manage more than one of those. If I'm with a really social group, I usually end up drinking more, too, just because I'm prone to eating or drinking in that type of setting and it's easier. However, the next day, I pay the price. I'm fairly sure that being run over by a truck and then having 1/4 of my bodily fluids drained and replaced with anti-freeze would be less painful than the way I feel. I'm essentially bedbound for at least 18 hours or so (and here is where W. would be so charming and point out that this is different than other days how?).
Of course, the burning question that most responsible adults have at this point is, why the hell do you care, Kim? You have three children and a job and a house and all those grown-uppy things. You're not supposed to be drinking and doing stupid things.
Yeah, well, good point, but that's the logical way of looking at things. It's not so much that I really WANT to sit around and get shitfaced. It's the fact that I can't do it if I want to...that just pisses me off to no end. I'm obnoxious like that. It makes me feel old and at this stage in my personal development, I'm not really particularly fond of things that make me accept my maturity. I'm rather fond of oblivion in as many forms as I can get away with it when it comes to things such as age/mortality and this is just one of those in-your-face signs that won't go away. Sort of like wrinkles, but there's not any plastic surgery for it, so I can't fool myself. And that sucks.
Labels: college friends, getting old, inebriation, ramble
