I'm feeling a wee bit melancholy tonight . . . my official move-out day is Labor Day (and no, the irony is not lost on me. I'll be laboring, carrying boxes and unpacking crap, on Labor Day). While I'm excited about my lovely H2, and excited/nervous (read: ready to throw up yet also giggling with glee) about starting classes, and equally excited/nervous about shadowing Karen (an adjunct prof who is going to be my Jedi master for the next four months), I am also incredibly sad that there are only three more nights left to hang out with my Mom watching movies until 2 am. It's a sad, sad day.
Especially when my Dad stays up until 11 watching whatever is on Dateline or Sports so that we hardly get any TV time. The Sportscaster is screaming in my ear about football as we speak.
Like I care about football. I am so not one of those girls who cares about sports. Once, at a restaurant, my dad decided he was going to embark on the noble task of Helping Me Understand Football. It was one of those places where you could draw on the tablecloth with crayons, and he was totally making Xs and Os everywhere (I'm guessing the Xs represent one team and the Os the other, but I'm still a little hazy on that point). The table was so covered, and his voice was rising with such distress at my inability to understand the difference between a full back and a tailback (again, still a little hazy), the the waiter was like, "What's up dude?" Next thing you know, the waiter had grabbed a crayon and was in on the whole thing.
An hour and half and a tasty meal later, we left the restaurant. The waiter was still laughing, my dad was still frustrated, and the only thing I learned was that there are four downs to a touchdown.
Maybe? I could be wrong.
Long story short, I'd so much rather be watching That Thing You Do with my mom than listening to the annoying sports guy on the local news holler about football.
P.S. Why do they always yell? Don't they know there's a microphone on their lapel? They're not standing in a crowded stadium with a megaphone. They're worse then televangelists, I swear.
So yeah, I'm feeling pretty low. Even though the sportscaster just cried, "Give me more cowbell!" (Hilarious, but not sure what that has to do with football)
My entire bedroom is filled with boxes, which is depressing, and I keep thinking all these maudlin things like: "this is the last time I'll change the sheets on this bed" and "this is the last time I'll get to use this pillowcase" and "this is the last time I'll rent something from the Blockbuster on the corner." I know I'll be home on weekends and holidays or whatever, but it just won't be the same.
And vis-a-vis the boxes, I'm sad to say that I accidentally packed my cookbook, and for the life of me I can't remember what box it's in. What this means to you is that you'll have to wait for the Devil's Food Cake recipe until I unpack on the Day of Labor.
So, to cheer myself up, I watching two of my favorite, most adorable videos ever on YouTube. If you need cheering up, then check this and this out. A better mood is instantly guaranteed.
However, when I logged on to YouTube, this video was recommended for me. I'm not sure how YouTube could possibly know about my ongoing love affair with popcorn, and I'm pretty sure that this whole thing is somehow an elaborate ruse, but still it's vaguely entertaining.
One thing that did make me let out a "whoop whoop" in this weekend of melancholia was John McCain's veep pick. I lovelovelove it . . . I think Sarah Palin is so smart and tough, and she's exactly what his campaign needed to galvanize voters. Before I was kind of like, "I don't really know about McCain, but there's not another choice . . ." Now I'm like, "McCain/Palin ROCKS."
If you have any thoughts about puppies, kittens, dollhouses, popcorn, or Sarah Palin, please feel free to let me know . . . I need something to distract me from my room of cardboard and dwindling movie time.
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