First post from the phone. Success?
Lately I have become completely slightly obsessed with online makeup tutorials, particularly those from Girls Gone Child. Not surprising, since I love makeup- wearing it, putting it on other people, buying 17 variations of the exact same shade, and good God, am I a mascara whore- BUT, I don’t necessarily love them for the makeup. For some reason, watching them is like listening to someone writing with a pencil on paper- knocks me out. Maybe it’s because it’s also like listening to someone read to you? Which we all know is like Ambien, minus the whole impromptu dance party hallucination bit. Either way, several times over the past few weeks, I have gone to bed amid discussions on the thickness of black eyeliner and proper blush positioning.
Which brings us to the topic of the evening- Zonkage. As a Grown Person, I have never been that great at sleeping. To some, it is an art form perfected after years of dedicated practice. Corinne, for example, takes pride in the assertion that she could sleep through the apocalypse, should she ever find that necessary. I, on the other hand, tend to view sleep each night as some kind of battle that I desperately want to win- not exactly the most heartwarming lullaby, am I right? Game on!
Anyhoo, it has been pretty rough over the last few months or so in the Sleep Department, so I’ve gotten creative- hence the makeup videos. I’ve tried tea, relaxation, wine!, reading, watching tv, farting around on the internet (hello!), and it can still be touch-and-go, almost nightly. Last week I had an amazing stretch of like 3 perfect nights, something I attributed to my latest ritual- bath taking. I found this Sleep Bath mess at BathandBodyWorks, and I figured why the hell not. Man, that stuff combined with the utter heat exhaustion can work wonders. It’s not foolproof though, and honestly, bath taking isn’t my favorite thing. It takes a long time and a lot of water, and soaking in ones own filth kinda gags me out. But hey, so does not getting any sleep.
Actually, it’s not that I don’t sleep at all, it’s that it takes me a long time to fall asleep, and then I rarely stay asleep through the night. On the worst nights, I’m awake for a couple of hours in the middle of the night. Still, not horrific, but not ideal. And it’s not great for my relationship either, since God help me, I sometimes (against my will) resent the shit out of his ability to Fall. Asleep. within five minutes of laying down. I don’t get it. Sometimes I lay there across from him, brows furrowed, wondering what he is on and why the hell he isn’t sharing it. He knows that he whips my ass in the sleep department, yet he is nothing but kind when it comes to my sleep isshers. Every morning, he asks me how I slept (probably with bated breath), and I know that he hates it when he hears anything other than, “Great, actually.”
Working out is helping it seems, and although this is a recent re-development in my life after a bazillion month hiatus (Thankya Jesus), I have high hopes. And let’s be honest, this past year has been crazy, albeit great, and maybe the ole mind and bod just need some time to settle on in to things. And I should be kind and give them that time. But if they could hurry the hell up, I shonuff would appreciate it.
And with that, time for bed.
So we were blasting the David Gray yesterday, and I was telling Carolyn about how much you hate him.
What? I don’t hate David Gray. I hate David Buble.
There is no such person.
Oh. I mean James Buble.
Again, not a person. Perhaps you mean Michael Buble?
Yeah, that works.
And I think you also hate James Blunt.
Yeah, can’t stand that guy either.
knew what he was talking about. I just went down to get my laundry from the basement, and I swear that heater/boiler/orc came to life. Scary.
The only other thing I have to share is this: THE SAINTS WON THE SUPER BOWL. I guess I’ve always been a de facto fan, kinda like I have been for the Braves, but for the last few years, my family has been super into them- and it feels great for them to pull off the Totally Unlikely. I could go off about our unfortunate bar situation, but like, it’s late and I have Subway to eat and post-game to watch.
Goodnight, internets. Let’s have a good week, shall we? Go Saints!
PS- if anybody has a hookup re: how to get me to New Orleans for Mardi Gras, do tell.
I bet they have a fan club called just that.
Tonight the Hubs and I are going to a party for @katiedub at Angels and Kings, Pete Wentz’s bar. Pretty sure that makes me famous. Not sure what I’m supposed to wear though, as I do not currently own any purple skinny jeans. Grant’s good, however, as he just picked up some this week. Lucky bastard.
I just start using this like Twitter? Does that defeat the purpose? The other day I read an article in Rolling Stone about John Mayer (BIZARRO) and apparently he tweets about his poops? (Again with the bizarro.)
Grant went to a Blackhawks game last night, so I had the apartment to myself- something I was obscenely excited about. Nothin but love for the Hubs, but permission to engage in SSB and watch whatever I want? Slap me. So, I watched the Grammys via DVR- and thank GOD for that- those damn shows last 37 years with commercials. Marriage perk! Anyhoo, Pink’s performance was insanely good, so naturally I downloaded her newest album in its entirety shortly after watching. I’ve always liked her. Kinda scary, mostly kickass.
Just got Elizabeth Gilbert’s new book. Pretty excited about getting into it, especially since it will distract me from my guilt/pride about not being able to make it through Twilight book #3. Kwitcherbitchin, Bella, we’ve had enough. Which reminds me. Today I had to pull a student out of class for the reminder that “Yes, Edward and Bella are exciting, and I’m glad you’re enjoying a book, and obviously I get that Edward is hot- but you still have to take notes in math class.” Sigh.
No reason for playing around with this theme other than that awesome night skylines tend to make me want to throw my panties.
So, there you have it.
Ladies and gentlemen, it has happened. I am a married woman, and Lord have mercy, I couldn’t be more excited. The weekend was unbelievable, and I feel like a newly addicted crackhead. In a good way? Anyhoo, maybe a New Years Rez, along with being good at being married, should be to revamp this thing and get back to some kind of regular posting? Word. God bless us, everyone.
“I probably could have gone up there, bent over, and farted, and it would have gone better than it did.”
Um, is that stupid cute or what?
PS: Millie K circa the year 2000 just rolled her eyes so far back into her head they might never come a-loose. God love ‘er.
