I woke up about one million times last night which gave me the opportunity to go back over my dreams.
Whoa.
I've decreased my antidepressant dose tremendously in the past few months and am barely on them anymore at all and so I can't blame all this night-time crazy-dream-movie-shit on them any more. It would appear that I am just insane all on my own.
Lucky for you I am not going to discuss them. The dreams, that is.
Anyway, what was waking me up was sorta-like pain. I feel achy everywhere and my hips feel like they might have teeth in them. Snap, crunch. I wonder if I am coming down with something. Isn't it funny that we "come up" with ideas and plans but "come down" with a cold or the flu? How does anyone learn a new language and speak it fluently? I do not know.
Well I really and actually do not have a lot to say this morning which is vastly apparent by now. It's Friday. Owen's coming over this afternoon and will be here until seven and we might go to town, Mr. Moon and I, for a restaurant/bar reunion.
Yeah. I know. Sure beats a high school reunion, though.
There was a great bar and restaurant in Tallahassee called Grand Finales and we spent many a Friday night there, eating yummy foods, drinking rum and cokes and listening to music and dancing. It was our weekly ya-ya-getting-out event. Back when we had ya-ya's to get out.
Anyway, some of the old bands will be playing and there will be food and drink and I sort of want to go and I sort of don't. It'll no doubt be one of those Oh God We Have All Gotten So Old situations. I mean- I'm spending the afternoon taking care of my grandson.
I don't know. We'll see.
Beyond that, there will be line-studying this weekend and set building. The play opens in less than two weeks.
Groan.
Hey- if you're in the mood to read something by a real writer whose columns I love, go here.
It's about Mitt Romney doing laundry and it's hysterical and Tina Dupuy wrote it and if you don't know her work, you should.
All right. That's it.
Happy Friday, y'all. Not unlike Mitt Romney, I have laundry to do. Haha!
Love...Ms. Moon
Mary Moon and beef tips? Wild Rice?! I want to go!
ReplyDeleteWhy do Republicans name their kids action words? Tagg, Tripp, Track, etc. What is that?
Phrasal verbs, Ms Moon, they are the hip pain of the language learner. As Adrian Mole said, English is a strange mistress.
ReplyDeleteI watched the first part of John Stewart's monologues from all of the past week last night, and I laughed through the whole thing. Seeing Mitt doing his laundry was the perfect cap to it all.
ReplyDeleteHave a wonderful day! (Oh, and rosewater linen sheets are something that I saw in the Garnet Hill catalog. The name is divine, but the price is, too. I actually found something on ebay and bought them at a huge discount!)
It is strange how, when you get a few years behind you that the ya-ya's find their own way out.
ReplyDeleteI think anti-depressants affect our perception of pain. At least I know the one I've been taking does, Trazadone. I've been tapering off it over the last month and last night was my first night with zero and my knee kept waking me up off and on all night long with pain.
ReplyDeleteGreat article that you pointed us too. I enjoyed it immensely!
ReplyDeleteThanks for the link, Ms. Moon. I love reading all about Mittens and his failed attempts to relate with normal people. Are you guys tired of the GOP yet? It seems like they have been there a long time in your state. Have a great evening out with Mr. Moon tonight. Take care, hope the weekend is great, and the line studying is a breeze.
ReplyDeleteYou are beautiful.
ReplyDeletexo
sounds like you had a blast! i feel like this when i get to go see a show now, it's just as much about seeing if you can find old skool kids to catch up with as seeing the bands play.
ReplyDeletebe well-
xxalainaxx
The only laundry Mitt knows about is what a maid put in his drawer and he happened to pull out to put on.
ReplyDelete