Still, nothing good going on over here. Did anyone watch The Biggest Loser last night, by chance? I forced J to sit down next to me on the couch and point out which one of those bitches had The Crazy Eyes. I am consistently amazed by The Crazy Eyes - like, they are an actual phenomenon, y'all! You can honestly look at someone and behold TCE. My husband sat down and pinpointed the Crazy instantaneously. (It was Tracy. Crazy, crazy Tracy.)
I wonder if TCE can be learned? One day, I shall be bat-shit crazy and you will look into my eyes and know. Such a shame, you'll say, as you shake your head solemnly. Such a nice blogger, too. Until she got completely boring and lame and went crazy. Just look at those eyes.
Lord, I have never wanted an anonymous blog so badly. There are things in mah brain, people. Things that need to be discussed but CANNOT. It's distressing.
Instead, let's talk about this past weekend, shall we? J and I headed to Penn State for the PSU v. Iowa game, and to spend some quality time with the baby bro. (Whom I hardly recognize anymore, he is such a man!) We had big plans to tailgate and drink lots of beers and toss the old pigskin around campus. Maybe play a little frisbee and walk around with our backpacks or something? What do college kids do these days anyway?
Alas, it rained - nay, poured - all day. And so mainly, we walked around in ponchos, in the rain, all day. And we hung out in Baby Bro's dorm room. And occasionally, one of his friends would drop by to hang out. Which, involves a lot of sitting. I remember this sitting. You go to others dorm rooms, and you just sit. And visit, you know? And watch TV. But mainly: the sitting. Oh, and the Skittle and cheeseball consumption. You can't get those slices of heaven at the HomeValley Ranch!
We made it through the first quarter of the game. Tired of being wet*, we headed back to the car, changed, and I settled in to keep J company for the 3.5 hour drive home. Unfortunately, I was asleep within seconds. I am an excellent navigator.
Now I am in Midtown for the afternoon, tucked into Starbucks on Park Avenue, waiting to head to a meeting. I am hopeful that the upcoming days and weeks and months will bring topics worth chatting about, but you never can tell. We may change the name of this blog to "Cougartown is the New Queens" and then we can devote every post to Courteney Cox and how we all hope that we can look like her at 45, minus the botched collagen lip injections. Who's with me?
*That's what she said.