Today and yesterday –but especially today– have felt like classic DC summer days. It’s not enough to be hot as hades: you have to have the element of clothes-soaking humidity to drive the point home. This fact — this wet-fart fact, if you will –does not surprise me anymore; what truly shocks and horrifies me and puzzles me to a certain degree is why some people feel the need to wear long sleeves on a day like today. It’s true: next to the nearly-nakeds and the summerily-dressed there were a few people wearing jackets, shirts, sweaters and long pants blissfully walking down the street as if it were a comfortable thing.
It’s really so bizarre, I just can’t fully come up with an answer.
I can’t imagine what these people do in winter, other than perhaps die of cold.
I have been tagged by the über-cool Comebacknikki! Hooray!
First the rules –which you need to post in your blog if you’ve been tagged:
- I have to post these rules before I give you the facts.
- Each player starts with eight random facts/habits about themselves.
- People who are tagged need to write their own blog about their eight things and post these rules.
- At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.
- Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.
- I am really irked by misused foreign words inserted for sophistication’s sake ("Ha! You should talk, Madame"). For instance, I was just at a pet store where they decided that the French word "étage" (floor) is feminine, and used it as such in a sentence ("la étage deux" or something like that); I mean, come on! If you’re going to use a word in a language that has those pesky gendered particles, at least try to get them right. Curiously enough, something similar was bugging me at around the same time last year. Some things never change.
- The above example is the kind of thing that makes me wish I were an antisocial bitch who could walk up to people and correct them and tell them how dumb they can be. Um…. nicely. Which defeats the point of being an antisocial bitch, I reckon.
- My dietary intake has become better since having Herr Meow. It’s weird of all the things you don’t think about until you have kids. Like, you know, cooking with less oil, less salt, and less crappy-for-you things.
- I am finding it intensely hard to navigate the seas of the "what’s-good-for-you" things. If you look at the labels for many of the ecologically-sensitive products out there, you will find such ethereally-phrased jargon as "plant-derived surfactants" — just another word for the hotly-debated Sodium Laureth Sulfate and its cousin, Sodium Lauryl Sulfate (they are derived from coconuts). Cutesy but ultimately profit-driven information sheets are informative, but annoying because you just do not know who to believe.
- I like stale cookies. When they lose their crunch, they usually taste better and are more fun to bite into.
- Our fish, Abe, is kind of dying. The cat attacked him and did something to his swim bladder. He is currently in confinement and hopefully on the mend –though we’ve started referring to him in the past tense–, while two black mollies and a Mickey Mouse platy take over his old –and way too roomy for a betta— home.
- These days, I’m far more excited about getting Herr Meow a tricycle than I am about bidding on nice shoes. I never thought I’d live to see the day I wouldn’t think my delight was the most important thing on the agenda.
- Sometimes people go out of their way to do something nice– like the nice woman who chased me down the street to hand me a toy that Herr Meow had dropped. Those nice random acts of kindness make a day better. Thank you so much, whoever you are: without Basketball Man, someone would have been a very cranky baby upon awakening.
I’m done revealing randomness. I am supposed to tag a few people, but I am not sure who to tag (aside from the awesome Vixen, who always does the memes I put up here.) I’ve tagged people before and never seen them put the meme up –possibly because they never saw it, I don’t know. Or maybe they don’t want to be bothered– in that case, I apologize for tagging youse peeps.
Well, let’s be optimistic here: