16 May 2011

Victory. Should Be. NAKED!

A very guilty pleasure: listening to Vangelis’ Chariots of Fire.  I’ve loved this soundtrack since I was a child—I’d listen to it in the dark, totally get lost in it, anticipating each note but also being surprised over and over again by the melodratmaticness of the scales, and shivering and jumping with each new cymbal crash.  It’s the eve of my birthday, and I’m going to party how I want.  So there.  And if that means sitting on the couch, using cherry Twizzlers as flaccid conducting batons, so be it.  Nauticalina asked me if I was drunk, and while no, I am not, that is the power of this music over me.  It just makes me so damn giddy.
Then there’s the fact that Nauticalina shows up with a bag full of candy shortly after 10pm.  I’m not exaggerating.  A BAG FULL OF CANDY.  Cotton candy, Twizzlers, Swedish fish, Samoa cookies (that I guess we aren’t allowed to call Samoan anymore, which I get, but that’s a hard habit to break).  To balance all this out, she is cooking the asparagus that I bought for us last week.  That way there will be some green swimming around with all that red.  Yum!
candy and asparagus
Side note: The world would be a much better place if our pubes were made of cotton candy.  Nauticalina and I were able to come up with the following ideas to support our hypothesis in a matter of seconds:
  1. The guy/gal will ALWAYS go down on you.
  2. Not having to shave before swimming—they will immediately melt off your body.
  3. Watching DVDs with a readily available snack (plus the hirsute friend will suddenly be in demand for when you run out of your own cotton-candy pubes).

The weekend was spent painting pink, tons and tons of pink (Dragon Fruit pink!).  Wikus helped, did a good job playing Stabby McStabsters with the paint brush (Frijole did a similar good job on the bedroom in April) on Saturday, and I went it alone on Sunday.  My little bird arms are broken, and I woke this morning at 6am bemoaning the shipwreck of my body on the purple-sheeted shores of my bed.  The Bear bleated at me to feed him, the heartless thing. 
All the hard work culminated in this:
dragon fruit studio
Even The Bear is going to start mosaicing.  Probably something vile like fish tacos. 

CSP doesn’t know what Swedish fish are.  Huh.  That’s like when The Boy (seriously, find him a name already) didn’t know what the Oregon Trail is.  CSP thinks Swedish fish are pickled herring, and The Boy thinks the Oregon Trail is a real trail in Oregon.  Silly boys.  One is candy and one is a hilarious game where the children are often carried off by large eagles.

No comments: