Listen to me, and listen good. If you have not been watching So You Think You Can Dance, I feel so, so sorry for you. It is so good, it makes my eyes water. Last night? This ballroom dancer from Russia, Pasha is his name, did an emotional solo dance wherein a headless, armless mannequin was set in the middle of the stage, wearing a purple sequined evening gown, and Pasha danced all around the dress. He danced for the dress. He danced TO the dress. Oh, and the song he danced to? Total Eclipse of the Heart. I was in my house, by myself, yelling at Pasha. NO YOU DIDN’T! YOU DID NOT! PASHA, NOOOO! But he did. And it was wondrous. So horrifying, it was good. I don’t like scary movies, really, because they usually don’t scare me. But Pasha and the evening gown. Gah! Chills and thrills, people.
I’ve been feeling a little bit homesick lately. I know what you’re thinking. I’m home already. Yes, that’s true. But what I mean is that I am homesick for my first home. The Midwest. I love where I live now, I really do. But I’m a Midwesterner through and through, and sometimes, the west coast kind of bums me out. See, the west coast people, they are polite. And politeness is a great thing. Living here, you don’t get honked at in your car until you want to kill someone, and you don’t tend to yell at people out of your open car window, at least not on a daily basis. People use the crosswalks here and don’t run out into the streets willy nilly. Why all of my examples of west coast politeness are all traffic-based at the moment, I am not sure, but stay with me here. I’m just prefacing what I am about to say with the fact that I like civility, I like politeness. It’s not a bad thing. But you know what? Politeness has a bad side. A tiresome side. Especially when you’re a Midwesterner like me. See, Midwesterners are all “hey what’s up? How are you? Tell me about your life. Come on in. Sit down. Call me any time. Better yet, just come on over. Want something to eat? How’s your mom?” And West Coasters are more “How are you?” “I’m doing well, thanks.” There’s like this distance between people. Stay back. Don’t tell me how you REALLY are. I’m too busy right now. In fact, I am always too busy. Let’s get out our day-planners so we can find a time to hang out that has a beginning time and and end time. Blah, blah, blah.
It’s not everyone. It’s just the culture of the place. It gets into my pores sometimes and drives me crazy. And bums me out. And that’s what I’m feeling like these days. Cheery, no?
Don’t worry, I’ll get over it soon. In the meantime, I am having a deficit in blogging ideas. So, it’s question time once again. Got any burning questions for Librarian Girl? Want to know something about her likes, dislikes, thoughts, dreams? Want to ask her why she breaks into referring to herself in the third person sometimes? Go for it. Email me, comment, send me a smoke signal. Ask me a question, please. Because you guys, really, I need fodder for the blogmill.
And by the way, that band-aid was still there today. In case you were wondering.
Kiss the rings, I’m out.