Random Thoughts

'Cuz I am up too late and can't sleep... I am now asking these questions of the internets:

Why does Letterman have a 12 year old with his own jazz trio on? He is 12. Ok... maybe 15. still

Why did the NFL change the damn date for the Superbowl so that it now interferes with the weekend of my birthday? Yes, I know that over the last week or so, it has become passe to have a birthday on your blog as all the better bloggers have done it (Chicka, Avitable, Miss Britt... to name a few just this last week). And certainly everyone celebrating a birthday is WAY younger than my fat, old wretched self. Also please not that I LOATHE the word 'wretch' as it rhythms with my actual real-life name. And that sucked all through childhood, Thank you very MUCH, Dr. Randy.

I suppose that my bad attitude comes from Superbowl XL being my XL birthday. 'Cuz no one's birthday should be XL. So FUCK OFF NFL.! Stop telling everyone how bloody old I am.

Next question? What happened to Elizabeth McGovern? I was watch SVU this evening and kept looking at her trying to guess who she was. She looks really different. Virtually unidentifiable.... I was only able to guess from her eyes. They seem to still look kinda like her.

Is the problem that I am using the HD TV?? Does it make everyone look creepy, old or somehow crazy? So far I am finding a positive correlation between oddness and HD. Is anyone else experiencing this? Damned if I know.

Dr. Randy? Jim? Darren? Do any of you know what happened to Robbie Watkins? I have only been thinking about him because I was explaining how much of my adolescence was spent in odd (there is that word again) pursuits such as Dungeons and Dragons, which Robbie was part of (as Dungeon Master) Did we ever kill off our 12th level Palladins or did we just give them permanent cloaking charms so they could wander through every level of the dungeon? And why has me watching Superbad made me consider this portion of my life again. Because I was neither Becca nor Jules? Just the freak playing D&D on a Friday night and having Robbie trying to touch my boobs.

Sigh. It is midnight and I still can't sleep. Perhaps some Angel Juice is in order (and by that I mean cheap boxed wine.... I am still me, after all... there would NEVER be anything more sinister involved... Just good old dependable Maman.) Not that Poppy would have ever suspected otherwise!