kdiddy.org

mamasaidno tagged me for a meme a few days ago and (in my head) I said, “Oh, sure, I’ll totally do that.” The only problem was that the meme required me to list six quirks of mine and I couldn’t think of a single one, which is bullshit, because I am nothing if not quirky.

So, quirk #1: I forget all of my quirks.

But I was fooling around on Twitter last night and noticed that my number of followers had changed. So I opened up my Twitter Excel spreadsheet and…

Wait, did I just say “Twitter Excel spreadsheet?” Yes. Yes, I did.

Quirk #2:

I keep an Excel spreadsheet of my Twitter followers and followees.

Since then, I’ve been trying to think of other quirks and consider “picking my lips” as quirk #3, but couldn’t decide if that was a quirk or just a really bad habit. It’s mostly an unconscious act, which suggests habit, but the degree of comfort and weird satisfaction that I derive from it suggests quirk. Then again, it’s physically damaging, if only on a minor scale, but, like, at the more extreme end of that scale is something like, say, self-mutilation. And holy shit maybe I should see someone about this.

See what I did there?

Quirk #3:

I argue semantics with myself.

But I have a good fourth one.

Quirk #4:

I suck (SUCK) at math. As in, I had to take College Algebra for Jocks, English Majors, and Other Assorted Dumbasses THREE TIMES. I’m not even shitting you. But I love numbers and the patterns that they create. The Fibonacci Sequence? Yes, please! And sometimes, I’ll pick a string of numbers, say 7285020 and will add up the various digits until I get to a single number.

Quirk #5

I quote movies constantly. This might be annoying, but people always seem entertained when I bust out with shit like, “You ARE the brute squad.”

Quirk #6

I don’t drive. And I’m turning 30 in October. I don’t know if the husband or my other assorted chauffeurs family members would call this a quirk or “a fucking pain in my ass,” but I’m going to go with quirk. I can drive. Like, I know how to do it, but I don’t have my license. I’ve taken the test a number of times but failed each time after my nerves got the better of me and I swore at the DMV guy. (Quirk #7 tests of any kind give me panic attacks.) However, the husband pointed out that I will probably have to figure out a way to pass the test since he’ll be working next year and someone will need to pick up our kid from school. Bah.

So, there’s 6…well, 7 quirks and probably more information than you needed. The other part of this meme is to tag 6 suckers to do the same. Argh, I hate this part, but I will tag Amber, Tracey, Jive Turkey, Black Hockey Jesus, Angela, and The Gay Housewife. Do it. Or not.

Yeah, that’s pretty much me at the moment. Might be quiet for a few days.

Also, today is the 1-year anniversary of my first real post here on kdiddy.org. 🙂

Oh hai, innernets. My grand plans for today included getting up early(ish), making English muffins, writing some stuff for MamaPop, doing all of the laundry, showering, and packing.

So far I have accomplished the following: sleeping until 11:30, drinking a lot of coffee, sneezing, getting a headache, and going to the bathroom.

I guess allergies are to blame, but I feel not unlike crap today. It was also a pretty rough week and I’m rather drained. We’re supposed to head up to the lake after the husband is done with work this evening, but if I can’t get in gear it might have to wait until tomorrow. Maybe we can go see The Dark Knight tonight. I really can’t wait to go apeshit over that movie.

So, during my aforementioned trip to the bathroom, I noted that the reading material that we provide for those persons whose stay in our lavatory is, um, extended is pretty excellent. Check it:

We have four issues of Martha Stewart Living, which I subscribe to but don’t really read because it gives me anxiety; waxpoetics, a very dense music magazine that makes me realize that I know relatively nothing about music; The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Music Composition, which the husband checks out from time to time; that orange magazine is Straight No Chaser, another music magazine; mental_floss, which I love and need to subscribe to; The Boondocks (love!); Cliches, which is a reference book of cliches (who knew?) and was one of the first presents the husband gave to me and I realize that this is kind of odd; 1000 Songs to Change Your Life.

At Casa de kdiddy, you will emerge from our bathroom armed with knowledge that you didn’t know you needed. We do what we can.

Entirely unrelated, but I’m happy to report that my kid has been spending many of his days out and about, swimming, biking, etc. I’m also happy to report that his complexion isn’t as crap as mine, and he manages to tan a bit, or at least not burst into flames like his mom. He does get a smattering of freckles though, which are beyond adorable. It looks like someone grabbed a pinch of summer and dashed it onto his face.

I’m going to go gnaw on his cheeks.

I forgot to mention that the husband and I were looking at the new Wal-Mart logo the other day…

After a few seconds of quiet contemplation, the husband announced, “It’s an ass hole.”

The baby told us a few times over the last couple of weeks that he wanted a mohawk, so we told him that once school was done we would give him one. That was on the husband’s to-do list today.

Husband: ah mohawk failed. the baby just has a very short buzz

me: weak

Husband: yeah i tried to trim what would end up being the “long part” down to a slightly more manageable level and it was too short.
so i cut it all off

me: good job

Husband: just emailed you a photo

me: he’s bald

Husband: close
it is just very short
it looks better in real life

Che is not amused.

Nonchalantly melancholic yet oddly hopeful. And barefoot.

*as per Tracey’s request

I’m currently in the lobby of our hotel, gazing at the Renaissance Center and getting ready to go eat some artery-clogging breakfast after a luxuriously long night of sleep. Why am I so tired? Oh, because I spent about five hours in the emergency room of Henry Ford Hospital yesterday.

Nothing serious, just that the husband woke up yesterday with severe pain in his knee and didn’t know why. As far as the doctors could tell, it’s nothing serious, though they do think he has arthritis, which HAHAHAHAA UR OLD! He’s feeling much better today, just all hopped up on Aleve and dragging his leg along since it’s all wrapped up in an immobilizer.

I will say that the staff at Henry Ford are pretty awesome, so score one for Detroit there. Of course, spending time in a Detroit ER is, uh, an experience. I’m really, really glad that I have insurance, is all I’m saying and everyone needs it.

Aside, the local radio stations here are pretty rad. Right now I’m listening to “I Would Die 4 U” by Prince. At 10 a.m. On a Saturday. WTF?

Musically, I’m not sure what we’re getting into today/tonight. I believe we are going to the roller skating party, thought I’m already feeling embarrassed by my lack of skating skills. And, obviously, I’m not trying to spend more time in the ER this weekend.

Going to Detroit. brb.

LOOKIT.