But there are some perks to late night feedings/reswaddlings/pacifier replacements (besides staring at Miss Dub’s sweet face).
Whatever the reason, here are some of the random things that I have been thinking about during my last few sleep disruptions:
Why is my blog not working? The other day I decided that my life needed a little more color. Enough chocolate brown. Enough chartreuse. Where were the reds and blues in my life? Where were the eclectic combinations of my decorating past? So I decided to tweak my blog design. When that was done, I found myself reveling in my HTML-savvy-ness and got a little carried away. Having been informed by Blogger that I can now post to a private domain, I went out and bought http://www.musingsandmisadventures.com/. Just think of the finger cramps that will be alleviated by not typing an additional “blogspot” every time you come my way. However, despite reading their detailed description of how to automatically forward my blog … all it has accomplished is forwarding my comments to a lame ad site. So I’ve gone back to blogspot. Although technical difficulties may be in my future once again if I make a second attempt. So be patient. And don’t stop commenting. Meanwhile, go ice those digits.
What’s so wrong with the suburbs?
Old View
New View
I’m sick of suburbia backlash. When given the option recently of staying in a near-urban town or relocating to the ‘burbs, I jumped at the chance to do the latter. Suburbs are great. Meters aren’t found in the suburbs. (And who has spare quarters when you have to use them to do your laundry in your city apartment’s basement?) Parking is plentiful and FREE in the suburbs. We used to pay $100 a month just to park our car in a poorly lit alley frequented by some (albeit harmless) crazies. Here’s a recent exchange with one:
Him: (Pointing to the number 10 on the parking spot) Are you concentrating?
Us: What?
These sorts of exchanges aren’t part of suburban life. Instead you trade nods with your neighbor and say things like, “Great weather we’re having.” And don’t get me started about Target. My last Target had the customer service of a hangnail. My new Target is closer, cleaner and has a helpful staff that can seriously read your mind. (Though awkward when shopping for womanly supplies.) Now, I should clarify that I do like cities. I love the hustle and bustle with extra bustle on the side. I love the lights. I love the culture and diversity. I love the nightlife. I just love a 30-minute buffer between us. So all you new urbanists out there can take your restored brownstones and, well, live happily in them. The less of you out here in the ‘burbs, the cheaper our real estate. And the emptier our Targets. Amen.
Does everyone think like me? Several times a day my dearest Dub tells me I’m a weirdo, mostly because I have theories that border on unusual. For example, I feel that some numbers are angrier than others. (Most odd numbers, for example, though five is like an even number since it’s an even time increment.) However, I can’t set my alarm for any time that is an even increment, like 7:00. Instead, I opt for 7:03. Also, I describe my feelings about food with inanimate comparisons. Oreos taste like asphalt. Chocolate tastes like melted gold or pennies. Flavored ranch tastes like fancy. Also, I think that chicken is the water of meats. I mean, so overrated. Anyway, I do think that my brain is a little askew. But is that bad? Or is that good?
6 comments:
i'm having a really hard time clicking on the back arrow. your new blog is so very fun.
miss dub, seriously, girl, you are way cute.
your new blog is pretty. so is lil' miss dub.
Sure wish you had tutored me on changing my blog "paper" while you were here. Although lately I just have nothing to say - in case you didn't notice! My nighttime thoughts border on the strange instead of interesting so I'll opt out of sharing those. Except last night my dreams of E were sweet.
I loved reading these musings. I think we must think alike. I have all sorts of weirdness going on in my head. Last night's salsa tasted like the bone on a pig...not like bacon, like the bone that they bacon came off of.
Great minds think alike.
If you weren't a little weird, you wouldn't fit in to the Dub clan so well. And furthermore, Mr. David is NOT one to be throwing weird stones! Sheesh!
remember those apartments by target on cactus? everytime i pass them, all i can think about is how you would say that they look like clay is going to fall off in your hands if you lived there.
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