It (was) Sunday & I (was) Boring: The I forgot to post this edition

So I meant to write the weekly “It’s Sunday & I’m Boring” post last night but I got caught up in the “Downton Abbey” finale and then some other stuff that I can’t remember. This is what I started about my boring Sunday:
As far as boring Sundays go, I really out did myself this week. If there were an Academy Award for Boringness, I would be nominated in every category and I would win each one.

I was super boring yesterday, a day filled with the kind of sloth and nothingness that makes modern woman feel guilty because she has this strange compulsion that all the hours of all the day should be filled with productivity and meaning. Most of my hours yesterday were filled with TV and snoring.


I’ve decided to start watching “Firefly” because my life has been void of meaning since I finished watching Buffy after Christmas. I tried an episode of “Angel” and it didn’t sit well with me. Now I spend hours scrolling through Netflix in search of all the TV I missed when I wasn’t watching TV for those three or four years in the early aughts. I decided to try “Firefly” because it didn’t seem like too much of a commitment and well, Joss Whedon seems to do something for me. After two (or maybe three episodes) the jury is still out on this one. I filled a lot of my Sunday with this.


I also filled my Sunday with a nap, some Scientology, and delicious caramel brownies that I brought to family dinner, where The Tibbles showed off their old-new Macbook, a sexy black number that the paid for themselves by pooling all their Christmas and birthday money.
oldnewmac

And after family dinner I dropped fifteen-year-old Jaycie off at a friend’s house because they didn’t have school today and she made me justify all the random bullshit opinions I spew about everything musical. Our conversation went something like this:
Her: You don’t like Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeroes?
Me: I thought I did, but I was wrong.
Her: What?
Me: They’re the Barenaked Ladies of your generation.
Her: I don’t know what that means.
Me: They write insipid songs that are ridiculously catchy and burrow into your brain whether you like them or not.
Her: Oh, and how are The Lumineers are the new Train?
Me: It just means they suck and their not very good song are everywhere, and that is the TRUTH! Stop questioning your elders or I’ll pull this car right over, missy.


In related news: I used Google Maps’ iPhone App to maneuver my way out of the twisty, turny, caked with ice, dark cul-de-saced neighborhood her friend lived in to get home and it was the awesomest thing ever. I might not drive anywhere ever again without the Google Maps lady telling me where to go.


In totally Monday news: today is the anniversary of Madison’s death. In his honor I had a Shamrock Shake.
It was not good people. I don’t know what McDonald’s has done to their shakes to make them unshakelike, but it is a serious downer. They’re like cold fluffy cups of not-even-related-to-ice-cream substance with whipped cream and a cherry. Barf. Also, why is it all striated? Those stripes are full of yuck. Be warned.

shamyuck

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2 Comments

  1. Christa 18.Feb.13 at 11:34 pm

    I’ve begun asking for mine minus the whipped cream. That has made the difference. Just had a good one yesterday. (Oh. I’m talking about Shamrock Shakes).

    Reply
    1. Jodi 18.Feb.13 at 11:36 pm

      I usually ask everyone everywhere to leave off the whipped cream because I don’t like it, but since I only drink a McDonald’s shake about once a year I forget they do that whipped cream bullshit.

      Reply

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