one. i love my house at the moment. it's quiet and empty, and it's so nice to sit here in one of my prettily-covered glider rockers in my living room and look out at the world while typing up this post. twelve hours from now, i will not appreciate the quiet, i will worry that the house isn't empty, and the only way sitting in one of the glider rockers will calm me is if i'm watching a movie.
two. i finally got around to blogging about another movie for the oscar blog. i let that project slide for a year and a half. shame on me.
three. the bluebonnets are sprouting up. i love them. they are so pretty.
four. my nephew can sing a little bit more of the aggie war hymn than
hullabaloo caneck caneck. he's actually learning the words! i'm so excited!
five. i should probably stop teaching them to hiss at longhorns.
six. my hair's long enough, again, that i can put it in a ponytail. yay! the bad news? right around this time is when it gets to be irritating cause it's too much in my face, and i'll have a hard time resisting the temptation to cut it off.
seven. i can't make chocolate martinis very well. this is probably a good thing.
eight. i broke down and bought a ticket to the rodeo. not because i wanna go see a bunch of hicks, but because i wanna see zz top. not that i think they're going to be awesome live (because it's rare that a band impresses me with a live performance), but because twenty years from now, i will kick myself for not having seen one of texas' best bands in concert.
nine. i think i held the door of pappadeaux's open for dusty hill (the one on the left) as he was leaving and i was entering. i can't say for sure because i'm lousy at recognizing famous people (really, really lousy), and before you say HOW COULD YOU NOT KNOW THIS?!, he was walking with a cane and a boot on his foot. and he was short. and looked feeble. and these guys are rock gods, okay? they don't walk around with canes and boots on their feet. and i don't expect them to be short and feeble. but now that i'm looking at a picture of him, i'm pretty sure that was him. and to make things all the more interesting, when he thanked me for holding the door, i think i said something about how he was gimp. awesome. go me.
ten. i am an idiot.
eleven. and my older brother would not be impressed with me right now. at all. amused, maybe, by my ignorance, but that would mostly be because he would be dumbfounded. my younger brother would just be amused. and i would not hear the end of it from him.
twelve. the entire right side of my face hurts. not intensely or anything. it's just there. always. i'm getting a little tired of it. i should probably go to the dentist. bleh. i can hear my dentist now,
you should be wearing your splint. that thing's sitting at the back of the cabinet underneath my sink. why? because it's yellow. it's not supposed to be yellow. it's supposed to be white. and i think it's making me sick. and i'm not wearing it, okay? so i guess i shouldn't complain about my jaw hurting, then, huh.
thirteen. i don't like my teeth. and i can hear my dentist now,
you should've worn your retainer.
fourteen. i can hear the traffic on the freeway in the distance. it's kind of nice. and then i'll get on that freeway and wish everyone else would get off. i'd settle for off my ass, but i'd prefer off the whole damned road.
fifteen. and now i can hear somebody blowing leaves or edging shrubs or something. that's not nice at all.
sixteen. i should, barring any unforeseen circumstances, have my novel finished by my birthday. editing and everything.
seventeen. that's in three weeks and six days. and i am not happy about this. thirty-nine. GAH.
eighteen. i wish i could sleep without waking up in the night, especially on days i don't have to get up early. it's like i get four or five hours and then i wake up because i have to pee. and then i wake up practically every hour after that. SO irritating. and i'm thinking this is what getting old's gonna be like. dominoes. a lot of little bitty irritants lined up nice, pushing each other over as the days pass. shit.
nineteen. i like gardenia-scented bath products and candles the best.
twenty. christina aguilera's team on the voice is pretty much shit. and she kept talking about how picky she was. seriously? the boys' teams have infinitely more talent than hers.
twenty-one. i don't like white walls. maybe i've mentioned this before? i don't remember. but i really, really don't like them.
twenty-two. i want chocolate pudding. i imagine that would just make my head hurt more. apparently chocolate and dairy are not products of which my brain is overly fond. too bad my mouth likes them so much.
twenty-three. this might surprise you, but
star wars: episode one in three-d? i've not yet hightailed it to the theater to see it on the big screen. that whole three-d bit, i can't see it, anyway. oh, and it's not jar jar that's keeping me from going. or the boy. or natalie portman. it's ewan mcgregor. his version of obi-wan kenobi and alec guiness' version ... it's like they're two different people. duh. i meant mcgregor's obi-wan is overly expressive or something. too childish, maybe. too eager. and i find it hard to believe that age and wisdom could have mellowed that eagerness so much that by the time you see obi-wan again he's one reserved, bad-assed dude. but mostly i just don't like ewan mcgregor. i'm not sure why this is. i can't think of a role he's played that would've turned me off to him ... ah, there it is. he played frank churchill in
emma, and then he played obi-wan, and then he played christian in
moulin rouge, and then he played catcher block in
down with love, and then he played ed bloom in
big fish so it wasn't one role which i found irritating but several. he just grates. severely.
twenty-four. having said all that, next to darth vader and the emperor, darth maul is one of the coolest villains lucas ever conceived. that man is creepy scary. until he takes his hood off. then he's just freaky looking. and speaking of bad teeth ...
twenty-five. i will be spending my day at pappadeaux's, hopefully finishing up the writing piece.