Well, we've lived here a year now.
I should probably take this as the clue that all the stuff that's never really been unpacked is probably all junk. The problem is that it's junk we can't bear to get rid of for one reason or another, so it remains. I'm at least to the point where I'll admit that it's junk.
Of course, we still inherit other people's junk. Did I mention The Boy helped his friend Little Jeff (yes, there is also a Big Jeff) move out a few months ago? Yep. He brought home a plastic tube lamp that has plastic fish in it. It doesn't have the cord. Girlfriend of Little Jeff says she doesn't believe it ever had the cord, but Little Jeff promises that as soon as he finds it, it shall be ours.
From this same trip, TB brought back a dart board. Without the darts. And it's one of those plastic bristle-y sort of boards, so you have to have the darts that came with it. Girlfriend of Little Jeff (she has a name in her own right, but I don't know how to title her to include her name and still explain her relationship) thought that we had the dart board with the suction cup darts. She says he got rid of at least three dart boards and kept one of them, but we got the suction one.
We got all that information from her because she's been looking after his new apartment while he was gone working summer stock in NY (upstate, a famous opera company, yes, them). Their season's not over, but he's back (they have a special crew to stay the end of August, who, apparently care less about school or something). I'm initiating reminders that if the dart board and the fishies don't find all their pieces, they're going to find a new home.
I heard the song Happy Boys and Girls by Aqua for the first time the other day. I have to say that would be the most annoying thing to wake up to in the midst of a long dark Scandinavian winter. To be roused from slumber being told to be happy and discover the cold dark grey winter the thing I'm expected to be happy about. That's worse than waking up at 6 am in the dead of a Midwestern winter to Surfin' USA. I still say that morning radio DJs have a sadistic streak to them just because they know that anyone waking up while they're working is still waking up later than they are.
I would like to know why Windows Media Player, when set to shuffle, has a very limited play list. If I skip a bunch of songs I don't want to listen to, I discover that two or three songs later, I'm listening to that same line up of songs I skipped. Er, no. I didn't want to hear it the first time. What makes you think I wanted to hear it now?
I suppose the problem stems simply from using WMP, but I hate Winamp even more and I won't have anything to do with Apple-related products. There's just something so stark and cold about them, in spite of their inviting simplicity. Those iMacs with their fruity little colours; they looked so cute, but every single time I have ever even touched one, it instantly froze and nothing could revive it. Needless to say, I have an inherent distrust of iPods (that and I have better things to do with 100 bucks than spend it on a device that will hold all my music with hardly a dent in the memory).
I finished American Gods and am waiting for TB to finish a book I checked out for him so I can take my books back and get more. He picked the biggest coffee table book in the whole place about the Air and Space museum. I kidded him on his desire to just look at the pictures. He's reading it to spite me.
SO, in the meanwhile, I need something to read. Know any great blogs I could check out?