I love Jack Nicholson. And so this article makes me very very happy.
Other things (taken from my real life!) that never get old include:
Surprises! Good surprises, that is, like finding the Cadbury ice cream bars in your freezer that you forgot about...as opposed to someone riding in the backseat of your car finding a tupperware of week-old cream cheese wontons that you forgot about.
Getting asked out by a senior citizen as you enter the hardware store...and then being followed to your car by him as you leave the hardware store. I have never seen anyone with a walker move so quickly! Jeeezus!
Drunk FaceTiming with Vicky.
Seeing the floor in my closet. At this point I can't even remember what color it is. I've made a habit of dedicating at least 15 minutes every day to putting clothes away...and I've been doing that for 5 days but am continually surprised at how deep my pile of crap is.
And the things I find in it! Foreign money, Special K blueberry bars that you could use as night sticks, gummy bears (loose), pizza coupons, sticky notes that are months old, dozens of lippies, a toy dinosaur, a printout of Nixon's leering mug, a brochure for skin cancer, and an empty pack of Orbit.
I've heard of garage and yard sales...should I invent the closet sale???
my deodorant working.
I think I have a paranoia about my armpits--always thinking they're too hairy, dirty, that I stink, that my deodorant isn't working. I have a few deodorants that I cycle through because I swear to God my body gets used to them and I am sitting on my butt at work literally not exuding any energy at all and I can feel my pits getting damp.
Gross, I know. So it is an exciting day when I feel fresh and dry the whole day through!
Spying on the neighbors.
And boy, do we have a mix. For loving our apartment and the location, we could certainly do without everyone else in the complex. It attracts a weird bunch. We've got a hell child born of a jackal (his name is even Damen), plenty of guys that love to repair their motorbikes loudly during the day and race them around even more loudly after 11pm, an Arab woman that tsk tsks me if I am exposing my upper chest or thighs, a man that stands in the parking lot staring at nothing in particular, a verbally abusive couple that are constantly leaving each other, too many kids screaming in Spanish to count, the weird bachelor downstairs that you have to avoid or else you'll be 40 minutes late to wherever you're going, the pot-smokers that have a huge pine tree covering most of their patio, the retired general next door and his creepy quiet wife (I dropped my hummingbird feeder on their patio by accident once and had to go get it), and the nutters across the way with sheer red curtains and an old woman in a rocking chair that spy back at me.
Yes, it is ghetto and flat out scary sometimes (a guy was shot to death a few months ago!), but we are paying ridiculously little for it and we've only had the cops called on us for a noise complaint once, the heater and AC both work, we have a dishwasher, and the bath water is always steaming hot. And we're allowed to have pets.
Plus it is the best people watching ever! Like my own Rear Window.
Neck rubs.
Crackers.
When people say "time suck" or "buzz word." They just make me giggle, dunno why.
Gossiping about dead people. This is a much-beloved pastime of historians and one of my favorite things that comes with the territory.
Which reminds me-- have I mentioned how much I love Drunk History? I forced people to watch more than 2 episodes last night and then interrupted Vicky's sleep (well...she doesn't sleep much so I didn't really interrupt...but still, it was 3am her time and I was tiddly and shrieking at her about how we didn't make any drunk history movies while she was here). It is very important to me.
Bird-watching.
Opening bottles of champagne.
I almost took one of the budgie's heads off last night. And only realized we were out of paper towels when it had fizzled over everywhere.
Ridiculous animal pictures.Observe:
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