1. I don't think it's cool to do something for someone else because of guilt. I never feel better after doing it. In fact, I feel worse usually because I know I was guilt-ed into it. I'm left resenting every party involved.
2. [some horrible passive aggressive comment about someone in my life that I can't mention on here]
3. I've been painting the last few weeks and it has been helping with my anxiety.
4. What is up with the weirdos who read their Kindles while they walk on the treadmill? I don't get it. What I meant to say is that I can't do it. I get reading on the the stationary bike, because that's the easiest thing to do at the gym, but walking on the treadmill is a different level.
5. I wish we could pass notes in traffic during rush hour. You know, like you did in class back in grade school? Except, they wouldn't be the cutesy "check yes or no" love notes. To have the ability to reach my arm out of my car window and pass the car next to me a note that says: "Dear Asshole, You can try and pass me all you want but until you learn to turn your blinker on I'm not letting that happen. Love, the girl in the bright blue Mazda." I would need a large legal pad and several pens ready at hand at all times if this were an option.
6. There is a neat wall I walk by everyday downtown that I need to take more pictures of but this is just one find that I finally took one of. There are so many random items plastered on it.
7. I forgot to tell this story a few weeks back about Tyrone and a party we went to. It was a birthday party and Tyrone was the designated Car Bomb bar tender of which he also actively participated in. I think he had five car bombs, which, if you don't know what they are let me fill you in; You take a shot glass and poor half a shot of Jameson in it and then carefully pour Bailey's on top of that being careful not to mix the two. It should float on top of the Jameson. Pour a glass of beer, specifically Guinness, about half full. Then drop the shot glass in the beer glass and SHOOT that shit. I prefer my car bombs with out the Bailey's and Guinness. I don't like the way they taste at all but I will shoot Jameson like a champ.
Now that the learning portion of this story is over let me get back to the topic at hand, my husband and his drinking antics. After the spirits had their time to settle in Tyrone got a little more outgoing. I say 'a little' because generally when Ty drinks you can't tell if he is drunk or not. His mood doesn't change a whole lot. He is usually a positive, outgoing person. The total opposite of me. But tonight was a bit different which was pretty entertaining (for me). We found ourselves in the backyard for some reason or another and there was Ty standing in a gravel pit in the middle of a trampoline frame. Just the frame, no black stretchy canvas or whatever it's called. Trampoline frame minus the tramp. OK then. Picture him standing there pretending to jump. He says, "hey I wanna jump" so I provoke him and say, "Do a back flip!!" So he does a muthafuckin back flip. A BACK FLIP! He partially landed on his feet and knees which cut open his knee. We were all stunned and laughing so hard he natuarlly got inspired to do it again but wanted someone to film it this time. He was so excited to do it again and be on camera he didn't wait long enough for anyone to get their phone out and "video ready". I'm not sure anyone was reaching for their phones at that point but still another back flip had come and went so fast we were left examining his wounds in the den. He split open his pants and both knees were bloody. He didn't feel a thing until the next day and I've had to hear about ever since. He likes to reminisce over his "owies." You can imagine how sympathetic I am when he does it.