That time is as great as Hammertime, right? Oh, who am I kidding. Changing into pajamas isn't anywhere near as fun as watching MC Hammer do just about anything.
I take advice that comes from strangers really, really well. When a well-meaning family member or friend offers sage wisdom, I'm quite stubborn about it, and will wait about three weeks before quietly integrating it into my day-to-day life, hoping that they don't notice my concession. However, when a magazine, book, or homeless person instructs me to do something, I am all about hopping on their bandwagon.
Where is this going? Here we are: most magazines write about how you should throw out "ugly" clothes like sweatpants and holey pajamas, because you feel worse about yourself when you wear crappy clothes. This makes sense, to a point. While I crawl into a state of depression if I wear sweatpants for more than three days in a row, they're still kind of comfy for when I don't want to wear pants with any kind of structure.
Instead of listening to the "to a point" qualifier that was in my head, I decided to give all of my crappy pajamas and sweatpants to Goodwill. Because that's what you do if you want to be beautiful, happy, and fashionable! Except I neglected to do what said magazine instructed next: go buy more shit so that you're not standing in the middle of your room at night wondering what you're going to wear to bed. This might not be a big deal to those of you who sleep naked, but for me, this is huge. I'm an incredibly cold person (both emotionally and physically...zing! To myself!), so I need to be bundled in unattractive layers of flannel and sweatsuit material. It's taken me quite a long time and GIVING AWAY MY PAJAMAS to realize that no, I won't feel like crap if I go to bed in flannel sweatpants or a nightgown my grandma would have been proud to wear. I'll be too busy feeling warm.
Also, I think I'm going to stop taking advice from magazines for a time. With the exception of Cosmopolitan. I'm always open to advice on how to make sex last for five hours using only an ice cube, a spoonful of peanut butter, and a tie.
2 comments:
A.V.,
I love reading your blog. I say that often, but I mean it. Always brings a grin, even on the worst days.
Your incorporation of humor gets better with each post; you've reached the point where it comes across effortlessly.
What I particularly like about your writing is that it sounds like you. I can hear you speaking the words you write, which says 1. a lot (of good things) about your writing and 2. a lot (of good things) about the way you speak, since both your speech and writing are hilarious and pointed. I think that's particularly important, because when you're famous ( :)) not all your readers will hear your speech, but they will read your writing... you'll be giving them you, through and through. One mark of many that make you a true writer.
I also like that your writing is a conversation with yourself, but not excluding others. You write applicably without becoming cliche, something I suck at and completely admire and try to parrot.
Love,
Amy
Just be sure your partner has condoms in his room before that 5 hour marathon starts...
<_< >_>
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