I went to one of my girls’ homecoming games Saturday to see her perform with the Poms. She was great, but I gotta tell you – again with the Color Guard. I was there with another one of my girls and we could NOT stop laughing. They had on white t-shirts and denim shorts and – wait for it – black tennis shoes with no socks. For the love of all that’s holy, BLACK TENNIS SHOES? I mean the whole outfit is bad, but come on. And there was one girl who had on super short shorts that were riding up in the middle. Really. Bad. She was, um, stocky, as many of the girls on the team are, and it was cellulite-tastic. I just wonder if these girls look in the mirror and are like “It’s the biggest game of the year and DAMN! I look GOOD!” Sigh. I just don’t understand. I also don't get how their parents let them leave the house in stuff like that. And unfortunately for the team, the outfits were not redeemed by their skill. At all.
And so ends the totally judgemental portion of this entry. Hey, I can't be all introspective and philosophical all the time, right?
Wait, wait. I have one more judgy thing to say. I'm supposed to sing at a wedding for some people at my church and the other day they asked me if I could sing "You Light Up My Life." Shit. I think the better question here wouldn't be if I COULD (because I definitely have the skill) but rather if I WOULD. To which I say "oh hell no." So I'm really trying to steer them toward something not awful. Wish me luck. *UPDATE* They chose this equally as heinous, yet unknown-to-me song, and since they only gave me two weeks to learn it, I told them I couldn't. I probably COULD have, but I just didn't WANT to. They were getting more and more irritating -- I'm doing you a favor and you're being exceedingly difficult and rude. I'm a horrible person for writing this. Anyway, they had someone else they could ask, so it all worked out. Thanks. God.
I'm trying to write more, but I'm working all the time. I worked 50 hours this past week, and almost 12 hours Friday. I'm so busy at work that I rarely have time to go on the internet and I'm pretty worded out when I get home.P.I.C. says he barely knows me anymore, what with the "working" and the "getting up early".
Speaking of P.I.C, I was looking through my cedar chest o'memories the other day, and I found my diary from 2nd grade. The very first entry says "Dear Diary: Today P.I.C. said "you won't like your new baby. They're pests!" And I said "shut up stupid!" Ha. It was from when my mom was pregnant with my brother. There was another one where he said something I apparently didn't like and I came up with another equally snappy comeback. When I told him about it, he's like "Wow. I knew how to push your buttons even back then." He's so right. And the button pushing continues, even 22 years later! He has this love of the Ying Yang Twins (ok, we both do) and so most of the time when I answer my phone and it's him, I am treated to him whispering "The Whisper Song." How, HOW did I get so lucky? Although, I will grudgingly admit that I kind of love his sense of humor (that's me whispering. ha). And when he reads this, I will never live it down. Aren't we cute at his parents' house on Memorial Day though?
My boy Dane is off at college in Kansas and he's really homesick. I talked to him on the phone Sunday, and he's like "will you send me a care package?" I asked him what he wanted in it, and he said "food". And so of course I'm going to send him one. I put it together yesterday -- it's totally college and not at all healthy, and actually contains many items that we eat on mission trips: two bags of Chex Mix, one bag of mini powdered donuts, two bags of sunflower seeds (original and ranch), two cans of Pringles, like 15 mini bags of cookies, gum, three packages of ramen, peanut butter crackers, a "family sized" bag of Twizzlers, and dried apples. Oh and I also threw in the Sports Illustrated NFL Preview, a mix CD, and a picture of us from the summer. He loves me already, but he's going to LOVE me after he gets this package. You boys are so easy to please -- with food.
Anyway. That's about it. I have to go clean my house because I never feel like cleaning it when I get home late and I have a tendency to take off my clothes and leave them wherever I happened to be when I took them off. And so yeah. When I say I'm going to go clean the house, what I mean is "I'm going to go take a nap". Because I love naps, I work hard during the week, and dammit, that's just how I roll. *UPDATE* After I wrote this, I actually DID clean my house -- it finally looks less like a hurricane of clothing hit it and more like an actual home. NOW I'm going to go take a nap. Because I had a rough day of getting my hair colored and I have to get some rest before NOT going out tonight. You know you wish your life was like mine.