i’ve just stumbled home from another exciting evening at the bowling alley. i got a lot of reading done and that was nice. in fact, today has been a wholly productive day. quite shocking for a monday. that’s two good mondays in a row. perhaps all my being nice karma is being visted upon me.
when i gave my dad the hockey tickets tonight, i thought he was gonna jump right outta his skin with excitment. for the past year he’s been talking about how he wants to take stinky ben (that’s sister #2’s husband for those of you playing along at home) to his first ever professional hockey game. he was jumping around saying, “this is the best, wow, this is gonna be great.” it made me smile. making my dad happy is really, pretty cool.
tonight, ol’ frank was shocked and appalled to learn that i have a name and it is jodi.
alley two went down and tommy schmitt bellowed my name, “JODI, ALLEY TWO!” i then shouted, “DAD, ALLEY TWO.” my dad went scurring back behind the alleys and frank turned to me:
“what did tommy call you?”
“oh, is that your name?”
“and here, i really thought it was sweetheart.”
gah, i love old men. they just crack me up.
and i am not sure why i just keep typing and typing all of these. maybe because i have reached that point of exhaustion where coherency is but a fond memory.
maybe because it’s that perfect cozy warm here and i am feeling pretty good about me and life and stuff, which means tomorrow i get hit by a bus.
also, on the drive home from the bowling alley i was thinking about how i hate the word sublime. like it has a really groovy meaning and what not, but it’s just so wretched sounding. sorta like pulchritude. then i started thinking about ms. marquette my ninth grade english teacher and how she used to use the word melancholy to describe romeo and what not and how i was so totally disappointed to learn that the word was not pronounced melon-ch-olly and it was pronounced melon-k-olly.
then it got me to thinking about driving around with sister #4 yesterday when we went shopping and i met an orange sweater that was meant to belong to me. so we were listening to the radio and that song by five for fighting came on, you know the one about superman.
and then that line that i thought said, “before there were sheep” is really “with a phony red sheet.” and she laugned muchly
then she said her friend heather won’t listen to ks95 anymore because their new slogan is “today’s best hits without the rap.” and heather thinks that makes them racist. because by not playing rap they are denying black culture or some such nonesense and then i said it was racist of heather to think that all black people like rap and bought into that whole ghetto chic thing and what not. then sister #4 said heather just thinks by using that slogan it says ks95 won’t play black muscians and what not, which again i pointed out as racist to assume all black muscians are racist and then that jeffrey gaines’ cover of peter gabriels’ eye song came on and i told kelli that jeffrey gaines was black and that heather should just kiss my ass.
now i am home and i don’t know why i keep typing this nonsense. it just keeps falling so easily from my fingers and i am amazingly pressing all the right keys even though my lids are doing some serious drooping.
somehow i liked that superman song more when i thought he was singing about sheep.
so anyway, this was gonna be about how i was warm and content and how mondays haven’t been so wretched lately. but well,