December 12th, 2014

2013, cyd, new

My tweets

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2013, cyd, new

My Spirit Animal is a Disney Laughing Hyena

So, um, query: When exactly is it that I grow up? I'm still in black jeans and a black t-shirt. The only thing that has changed there is the t-shirts are now V-neck because they can be. And they are more comfortable. I still wear electric blue or lime green Doc Martens when I go out-out. For walking the dog and going to the shrink, it's low-top converse. I couldn't do the high top, hipsters wear them, icky. I had to give them up. But I won't give up the Doc Martens. I wear my same leather biker jacket that I've been wearing since 88. It's finally broken in. The lining is torn out, but the leather is soft and pliable. I set my style when I went to college the second time. That was the beginning of my poverty phase, which I am still in.

But it brought priorities, and I discovered that as long as I was covered and comfortable, I didn't much give a shit what I was wearing. There were gaps in the poverty, when I worked in offices and had to wear office clothes. Or managing a restaurant, and having to wear hostess clothes. Then it turned into chef's checks and whites or t-shit and jeans. That is when doc came along and taught me to be comfortable with myself.

But he let my inner child out. And she is running all over everything. I don't know if that is a bad thing. For example, Doc does this thing where I will be watching a program and he will see someone familiar or something that reminds him of a show and he will proceed to give me the history of this person or plot points of the show. While I am trying to watch my show. Live, on TV. Today, while he was watching something on On Demand (you know, the cable channel with the Pause Button) and I said something to him and he got all exasperated and melodramatically (we are so much alike) pressed pause on the remote and looked at me and rolled his eyes. And I calmly asked him, "So, how does it feel?" Then told him of his habit of interrupting me while watching TV and we both laughed and talked for a few minutes and he went back to watching his show. WE ARE SO RIDICULOUS. But I am like a kid like that. I hold on to petty things. Instead of telling him, I set him up to "learn a lesson". Like a kid would do. What is up with that?

So, no one on twitter seems willing to help me and my Meowssad extraction team grab Cheney and Bush and get them out of US territory so they could be arrested as war criminals. I am sorely disappointed. It could be done with cats, you don't know.

the U2 fans are discussing their go-to song by the band tonight and I'm really torn. What seems a common theme is their song of choice is often one of the first they heard. I almost want to say "Seconds" is mine. Bono doesn't even sing it, The Edge does. I've never studied the lyrics or meaning of it, the music just makes me feel good. Right now, I am awaiting a confirmation email from a U2 forum that discusses the meanings of the songs. Yeah, it's all about the glamor here.