I just realized something today. I have a really bad habit of saving things that are not worth saving. Well, okay, I didn't just realize it today. I have always known that I had a little problem throwing shit away. It used to be stuff like papers. Just weird, random pieces of paper with numbers written on them, or old bills, envelopes, Christmas cards. You name it. If it once came from a tree, I kept it.
I also kept a bunch of old crap from high school in a box. Pictures, my tassel from graduation, my letter, some pins. I used to have a fanny pack (yes, I said fanny pack) stuffed with old notes I had received from friends during school. I know there were at least 50 notes in that thing, all folded into some fucked up geometric shape. I finally got rid of them all, only to regret it and wish I still had them to reread and laugh at how dumb I was. Hopefully I got rid of the fanny pack, though. Not only because fanny packs are the biggest fashion crime ever, but also because it was red with fake, suede tassels on it. I think I still have the box somewhere under my stairs with the intention of revisiting my childhood.
As an adult, the main thing I have a problem with is reading and deleting e-mails. If I see an e-mail that I don't need, instead of just throwing it away, I leave it right there in the inbox. I pretend like I don't know why I do this, but that is a lie. Somehow, I think I may need it. Like it just might have something I will need to reference down the road or something. I am afraid to get rid of it because my life may just depend on that obscure e-mail that I don't even really need to open. The saddest thing is, I have a tendency to delete e-mails that I really should save. It is totally fucked up, but whatever. I eventually go through and clean up to start over with a blank slate.
Anyway, back to today's realization. I was putting clothes away, thinking how badly I needed to purge some of my kids' clothes, when I came upon a pair of my pajama pants. No big deal, right? Well, my husband bought me the pajamas 5 years ago for Christmas. They were somewhere around 50 bucks, which I find ridiculous for a pair of PJs, but they were a gift. Not long after I was given these pajamas, they ripped a little on the seam in the ass. I was not bothered by this and continued to wear them. Over time, the tear became bigger and bigger, eventually becoming a gaping hole, exposing most of my ass and a good part of my leg. How do I know this? Because I continued to wear them. I continued to wear a piece of raggedy, trashy piece of cloth that completely showed my whole ass. Who the fuck does that?? Apparently, I do.
So, what did I do when I found these horribly shredded pajamas today? Did I throw them out? Did I cut them up to use as dusting cloths? Did I place them in my craft box to use for something? NO!! I neatly folded them up and put them in my closet to be worn later. That makes me a sick bitch.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Monday, March 7, 2011
Mindless And Incessant Rambling With A Touch Of Gushing
Okay, so, wow. Really embarrassing. I am totally addicted to a show. And not just any show. Probably a show that has the worst premise EVAH!! Maybe you have heard of it. It's called 21 Jump Street.
If you haven't heard of this show (which would mean you have been living under some large object your entire life, or you're old, or you're really young, in which case, you should probably not be reading my blog), it is about a group of cops who go into high schools, undercover, to bust teenage criminals. And it is progressive. The first couple of seasons were really shitty. Acting kinda shitty, script REALLY shitty, plot lines EXTRA ULTRA shitty. But it gets better. I said better, it's not Shakespeare.
Yes, it is pretty silly for a 36 year old woman to be addicted to 21 Jump Street when it has now been off the air for, what is it, going on twenty years? But I can't help myself. I watched it when I was a kid and I guess I needed a little mindless release while I have a little adventure with the 15 year old girl I used to be.
I didn't start with the first season. I watched that a few years back after I had my 2nd baby. I felt this need to see Johnny Depp in his younger years and try to remind myself of what all the fuss is about. You know how when you are little and you are in love with some actor on TV and then you get old and they aren't nearly as cute as you thought they would be? You know, like Ponch from Chips? Yeah, no. Johnny Depp is nothing like that. That dude was (and still is) H.O.T. Ponch, not so much. Okay, maybe a little, as Ponch. Not Eric Estrada himself. But nobody, and I mean NOBODY is as white hot as J.D.
I remember waiting for the show to come on, hoping to see Officer Tom Hanson (Johnny Depp) kiss some girl or just look at someone with a longing expression or just go tell a deep story that showed a glimpse of who his character was. I truly believed that I could see into that guy's soul. And when he would cuss, or chew gum and talk, or smile and show his ridiculously perfect teeth. OMG, my world was complete.
But now, now as I am in the middle of the third season of this preposterous show, now as I waste my life experiencing this show as an adult, I realize. I realize that he is still hot. Still sexy. And not aging because he really doesn't look much different. I am starting to believe that he has a portrait hidden somewhere in his house in Paris. A picture of him, but haggard and old, showing all the damage he has done to his body and mind. The warped, twisted version of himself that displays his sins and wrongdoings. A picture so frightening and gut wrenching that you would have to burn your eyes out for fear that you might catch a glimpse of it again. There has to be because nobody looks that fucking good. Nobody. Especially when they drink and smoke and are going on 50. 50. That guy is gonna be 50 soon and his real name is Dorian Gray. Yeah. I don't really know where I was going with this but, that is all.
If you haven't heard of this show (which would mean you have been living under some large object your entire life, or you're old, or you're really young, in which case, you should probably not be reading my blog), it is about a group of cops who go into high schools, undercover, to bust teenage criminals. And it is progressive. The first couple of seasons were really shitty. Acting kinda shitty, script REALLY shitty, plot lines EXTRA ULTRA shitty. But it gets better. I said better, it's not Shakespeare.
Yes, it is pretty silly for a 36 year old woman to be addicted to 21 Jump Street when it has now been off the air for, what is it, going on twenty years? But I can't help myself. I watched it when I was a kid and I guess I needed a little mindless release while I have a little adventure with the 15 year old girl I used to be.
I didn't start with the first season. I watched that a few years back after I had my 2nd baby. I felt this need to see Johnny Depp in his younger years and try to remind myself of what all the fuss is about. You know how when you are little and you are in love with some actor on TV and then you get old and they aren't nearly as cute as you thought they would be? You know, like Ponch from Chips? Yeah, no. Johnny Depp is nothing like that. That dude was (and still is) H.O.T. Ponch, not so much. Okay, maybe a little, as Ponch. Not Eric Estrada himself. But nobody, and I mean NOBODY is as white hot as J.D.
I remember waiting for the show to come on, hoping to see Officer Tom Hanson (Johnny Depp) kiss some girl or just look at someone with a longing expression or just go tell a deep story that showed a glimpse of who his character was. I truly believed that I could see into that guy's soul. And when he would cuss, or chew gum and talk, or smile and show his ridiculously perfect teeth. OMG, my world was complete.
But now, now as I am in the middle of the third season of this preposterous show, now as I waste my life experiencing this show as an adult, I realize. I realize that he is still hot. Still sexy. And not aging because he really doesn't look much different. I am starting to believe that he has a portrait hidden somewhere in his house in Paris. A picture of him, but haggard and old, showing all the damage he has done to his body and mind. The warped, twisted version of himself that displays his sins and wrongdoings. A picture so frightening and gut wrenching that you would have to burn your eyes out for fear that you might catch a glimpse of it again. There has to be because nobody looks that fucking good. Nobody. Especially when they drink and smoke and are going on 50. 50. That guy is gonna be 50 soon and his real name is Dorian Gray. Yeah. I don't really know where I was going with this but, that is all.
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