I learned this week…
…that I am old. Or so my health insurance carrier tells me. I received a very nice letter from them informing me that my recent birthday (the one that isn’t until mid-June) has pushed me into a higher age bracket and, though it pains them greatly, they must raise my rate by 2% effective April 1st. Bastards.
…that once again, I find that I am a few steps behind everyone else when it comes to discovering new and exciting television. First, the BBC’s Sherlock, and now PBS’s Downton Abbey. I need to get with the program. Both of these shows are well-written, well-acted, and well…just plain brilliant.
…that if civilization as we know it should end and the burden of rebuilding and repopulating the world falls to the brilliant minds of the students in my Sociology class, we are all screwed. Newt Gringrich’s moon colony might not be such a bad idea after all.
…that my daughter’s sixth grade band is amazing. I am very proud of her. She’s come a long way in five months.
…that as the daughter of a breast cancer survivor, I’ve always had the highest respect for Susan G. Komen for the Cure. Not anymore.
…that I really don’t like making my own coffee in the morning. That makes me sound spoiled, doesn’t it. Well, I am. My husband makes coffee every night at bedtime, sets the little timer thing, and BAM! I have coffee when I roll out of bed at 5 a.m. He’s out-of-town. I have to make my own coffee this week. It sucks.
…that my fat cat has lost weight. This a good thing for he tipped the scales at 19 lbs at his last vet check up. I am happy to report that his “high fiber, low-calorie food that costs me a fortune” actually worked. He’s down to a svelte 15 lbs. Of course, he thinks he’s starving to death and has taken to counter hopping in search of something left unattended. I turned around the other night and found him perched by the sink, staring a hole through me. I was a little scared. For a minute, I thought he was contemplating my nutritional value.
…that me and old Thomas Hobbes are not going to be good friends.
…that I find reminders of my dad in the strangest places. This week on my way to the office, I was listening to a 60s themed satellite radio station I like and a song I haven’t heard in years came on. (Don’t judge me. I’ve made no secret of my opinion on the music produced during that decade – BEST MUSIC EVER) As it began to play, recognition took hold, and all I could see was my father dancing around in his stocking feet, lip syncing the words, and making Groucho Marx faces. I miss my dad.
***Warning: Pet peeve of the week***
…that I hate pointless art projects. I hate pointless art projects even more when they are completely irrelevant to class curriculum. In Yoga for a Grade, we were instructed to make a new friend (shoot me now), ask them asinine personal questions, and create a collage of their life based on what we learned in a ten minute conversation. We are expected to present them to the class when next we meet. Really? I think I preferred the Down Dog into Plank (hold for one minute), then down and up into Up Dog sequences she made us do – fifteen times in a row! – during the last class.
…and last but not least, this week’s awww moment is brought to you by Cousin Violet, the Dowager Countess of Grantham (Maggie Smith) from Downton Abbey. She is quite warm and loving in her own way – really.
Of Bears and Boating 