Hey, guess what time of year it is? The time of year when I make “gee I am cold” into a topic to blog about! Aren’t you excited!? For today, all I will say about this is that this week, it officially became colder than a snotsicle. And that leaving my house will become more and more difficult for me as the weeks go on.
One of the things that happens every year at about this time is that I notice that I have no wintery clothes. Well, not NONE, but decidedly few. I just don’t tend to buy sweaters, or pants. I am a skirts and dresses and non-waterproof shoes kind of lady. Last week, I decided to hightail it over to some retail establishments to remedy this situation. As I was browsing in Anthropologie, one of the sales ladies came up to me and put her arm on my back and said “oh my god! HELLO!” as if we were great friends and she was beside herself with happiness at running into me. I am fairly certain that I have never seen this lady before in my life. So either she has boundary issues or I am in that store way too friggin’ much and have become part of the Anthropologie family.
Speaking of family, Nordic Boy reminded me this weekend that his mom is a genius. When he was growing up, and they were riding in the car, and his mom wanted to cuss out some road rage at another driver? She would call them “87 bags of assholes.” The number would fluctuate depending on how mad she was. Irritate her slightly, and she might say “52 bags of assholes.” Really get her goat and it would be “94 bags of assholes.” The more mad you made her on the road, the higher the number. Tell me that is not the soul of a poet, I dare you.
And speaking of Nordic Boy’s mom, can I just tell you that her son, my illustrious loverman, has no compunction whatsoever about falling asleep in social situations? He honest-to-goodness does not give a RAT’S ASS about putting his head back, stretching his legs out, and snoozing it up like a big old grandpa right in the middle of a party. I don’t know why this behavior amuses me so much, as it might be interpreted as an Emily Post no-no I am sure. He did it this weekend and BioGirl and I sort of had to stifle a full on giggle-fest because it was happening and we were reminded that this was not the first time, not by a long shot. Why is it funny? I don’t know. That dude is just SO HIM at all times, with no apologies, that it ends up being sort of comical. Not just nodding off, mind you. Full on sleeping. Not fighting it at all, but rather, embracing the sleepy sauce. Sorry, were you talking? Are there people around? Was there social interactivity happening right now? NO MATTER. I have very important snoozing, right in your face, to attend to.
Speaking of not caring, why did I get irritated when I saw that interview with Jennifer Aniston? And why does it bother me when people ask if one is “Team Angelina” or “Team Jennifer”? Why does it get my feminist hackles up that no one points the finger at Brad Pitt in that whole situation? And also, WHY DO I CARE?
And then I remember I am the Pop Culture Librarian, which gets me off the hook in all sorts of embarrassing pop culture related thoughts and feelings.