shaken not stirred
Wfew! Two weeks have passed, and I have not posted once. These past couple of weeks have been a wirlwind of class, work, and the virtually inevitable summer wedding. This is why I plan to get married in Vegas in January - so no one has to miss out on their summer yard work just for me.
That said, I wanted to post about something that makes me VERY happy.
Having thought I was not going to be seeing Phil Vassar in concert this summer, I was a little bummed out.
Prior to the first time I saw him in concert, I never understood why people would spend money to see the same musicians in concert more than once in their life. Of course, this is what I thought before I met Phil.
For those who don't know Phil's music, you are truly missing out. He is an amazing songwriter. And like one of his newer songs is titled, he falls in a faintly foggy area somewhere between country and folk. Which is one of the reasons I love his music more than I love organizing my socks in alignment with the ten point gray scale.
To get to my point, I am going to be seeing Phil in concert here in Madison in August (at a concert I was not even aware of until last night). I am so incredibly happy, I have totally forgotten about the ring I have to make by Monday for my metals class.
And trust me, that means a lot.
TGICFMG Thank God I Can Feel My Gums
Though I can honestly say that I fear for my life anytime my sister comes within ten feet of me with a curling iron, normally I consider myself pretty tough when it comes to pain.
However, this morning I had a dental appointment in which I received two fillings. One of my molars was so extremely sensitive to the drill that in angst, I could have almost bit my dentist in her big pregnant belly had I not been under so much anesthesia. Though despite the pain, I was pretty content in the drilling chair, because I got to watch Regis and Kelly on the tv screen above my drooling face.
This afternoon, I ate a left over candy lollypop from Valentine's Day, in celebration of the regained feeling in my gums.
And just as I reminisce about stories of my childhood friend, who would stand with me in the bathroom mirror at my parent's old house and ask why are you taking so long to curl and hairspray your bangs, we are late for summer school, I ate that lollypop while thinking of my dentist and the pregnant hygenist she had assisting her. Because I can remember a day when the word
filling used to apply to the kind of doughnut you liked best.
love
Last week, Jered and I were comparing our forearms to see who has the better tan. He often wants to compare our skin after I've just beaten him at a wicked game of Scrabble, and feels the need to redeem himself by showing off his deceivingly dark exterior.
However, before every arm v. arm battle, I tell him that our forearms are not a very fair comparison of tan skin, because he has dark hairs on his arms, which in turn make his arms look darker.
He of course disagrees and basks in the success of being The Darker One.
But at least I don't get my tan from being on a diesel tractor in the hot Mississippi sun.
