Well I’m in a mood today. The kids did great last night. We force fed them their dinner and stuck them in bed and we didn’t hear a PEEP from anyone till five thirty! The baby may very well have been screaming all night, but he’s got some sort of crud (that we’re all slowly but surely catching) and he’s so hoarse that we wouldn’t have been able to hear him anyway. Nick left at seven and we bummed around till the water park opened at ten. Then Mindy came over with lunch and helped me rassle (you like that? That’s how Southerners say wrestle, isn’t it great? One of my fondest memories of moving down south was hearing people say rassle) the kids into bed for naps. So I’m sitting on the balcony YET AGAIN by myself looking at the endless water and STILL NO SUN and listening to moody music on my ipod, so naturally it’s put me into a mood.
In case you’re dying to know, right now I’m on Jeff Buckley’s(SP?) hallelujah. It’s from an old episode of House. I’m not one of those cool music people who’s all up and up on the latest awesome music. Nope. I get all my good stuff from TV, naturally. Back when I used to watch Grey’s Anatomy, I had a LOT of moody music on this sucker.
Anyway. Fancy Pants, that super nice, ultra modern HUGE kitchen house I told you about? Well she called back and said she’d take 2700, which would mean two hundred out of pocket for us. Which is initially what Nick and I decided we’d be willing to pay. But instead of jumping at this WONDERFUL oppurtinty, I’m like totally not able to make a decision. I mean, it’s a GORGEOUS, NEW house, with four HUGE bedrooms. It would fit all of our stuff. It’s new, and modern, and sleek and beautiful and FANCY. But I’m stuck with a soft spot in my heart for Big Ugly. Isn’t that the stupidest thing you’ve ever heard? Why do I want to live in Big Ugly!!??!!?? I have no idea. But I cannot say yes to Fancy Pants! ARGH! It’s so frustrauting! I really want to want Fancy Pants, but man alive, I just can’t do it. And it’s not even like Big Ugly has a lot of potential or charm or anything, like our house in Virginia. We’re renting, so it’s not like we can even do anything to it. We’ll be stuck with the horrible ugly TINY fridge and the outdated GAS (HOORAY) stove and the microscopic dishwasher and the rickety old ceiling fans. So why do I want it so bad? I HAVE NO IDEA!
Guam has obviously trust me further and faster into the decent of insanity that I’ve been on since my teenage years.
Sigh. Well now my ipod has moved on to Jack Johnson. So it would seem that the moodiness is going to pass safely. I need one of those real ipods that you can like tell it what to play in what order. That way I can’t let it put me in a mood anymore, unless I want to. I do like to be in a mood while I’m writing. But since I haven’t been writing since before Warren was born…what’s the point?
Mom, if you’re reading this, my birthday is coming up. And pink is still my signature color, although that green one of dad’s will be fine in a pinch :)
Great. Now we’ve got You Can’t Always Get What You Want. Good thing it’s not Wild Horses, or else I might just fling myself off this balcony.