Suzanna Danna

I love Nora Jones. I have a girl crush. Pretty, long, flowing, thick, night-dark hair falling just so under her jaw. Full, pouty lips and the ability to sing with the sultry ‘too wise’ voice of a woman three times her age.

It was almost like discovering Bonnie Raitt for the first time again.

The following goodness was brought to us by Mimi Smartypants and the number 18.

THE BEST TYPO EVER
I am working on an article for a psychiatric journal, and the title mentions a treatment for "mooed disorders." Doctor, I am just so depressed. Hay sucks. Jumping over the moon sucks. Giving milk sucks. Moo.

What other diaryland diaryist can come up with two (count them TWO) verses of an impromptu song called dung beetle disco? I ask you… who?

She is so random. I really love to read her stuff.

Sometimes after work, or when Mister and I are on a road trip a nugget of Mimi goodness will come to the surface of my brain and I will giggle. Mister always asks what I am chuckling about and I try to tell him, I really do. But apparently he doesn’t find much humor in Mimi procuring a rhinestone setter and having the urge to make her own sparkly socks and maybe a t-shirt with the slogan “Gee! Your Hair Smells Ironic!” on them.

Is it just me?

Ok… fine.

Over this past weekend Mister and I went to my parent’s house for their 40th wedding anniversary. My sister, her husband (BIL), Mister and I planned to treat them to a full weekend. We planned 5 meals; breakfast, lunch and dinner on Saturday along with breakfast and lunch on Sunday. We brought them a cake from Central Market that looked like a tiny wedding cake (mmm butter creamy goodness) and a dvd player with two dvd’s for their present.

Sounds sort of over the top huh? Well, it was wonderful and they deserved every moment of it.

Last week my mother called my sister. They were talking about our plans for the weekend and my mother (due to the relationship* she shares with BIL (*scroll down)) said, “I can’t wait to see what you guys have in store for us this time!”

My sister called me to tell me what my mother had said. We did not have anything “gotcha!”-like planned for them. BIL’s powerful brain went to work and he came up with the perfect solution. He called this lady and arranged to have my parent’s flocked.

When I get the pictures developed, I will post them.

I was so excited Friday night that I didn’t sleep a wink. The flock was installed in my parent’s back yard Saturday morning at about 5 am. I stumbled out of my couch bed from hell (at about 6 am) and out onto the porch. My dad looked up from reading his paper and burst out laughing. He could barely contain himself from going to wake up my mother. She got up an hour or so later and went out on the porch to freshen my father’s coffee and squealed with delight when she saw the flamingos. She started calling all of her friends in the neighborhood an hour later* to come see her yard.

*We asked her to wait until it was past the ass-crack of dawn.

Gray (the nephew) was so excited. He was calling them a “buncha’ mingos!” How precious is that?

I am such a dork.

I had a dream last night that Henry Rollins was on the Tonight Show with David Letterman. And for some reason, David Letterman had an awful lisp* or stutter with the letter F.

David: So, Henry Rollins… hee heee! How do you like being FFFFFFFFamous with an almost rabid fffffffffffffffffffffollowing?
Henry: Well, David, I don’t see my fans as rabid followers.
David: Is that a ffffffffffffffact?
Henry: That is a fact David, I see them as more of an interesting and intelligent crowd that do not rely on fart and boobie jokes to make them laugh.
David: …… boobie…hee hee!
Henry: Take for instance this bright young woman in Texas who saw one of my spoken word concerts a few years ago. She still remembers the bit about my weightlifting neighbor who was so hopped up on steroids that she had a clitoral bulge. She even mentioned it in her diary online. The website is….

Then I woke up………. sweating.

Scary.

*Isn’t it cruel that lisp is spelled that way?