Thursday, April 3, 2008


Whenever Clint and I drive together in my car, he turns on the music to see what I've been listening to. "Let's see how cool my wife is" followed by either a groan {usually if it's something like The Postal Service or the Marie Antoinette soundtrack}, rolling his eyes {The Cure, Regina Spektor again}, or a nod and smile of approval {Andrew Bird, Bob Dylan, Neutral Milk Hotel, etc}.

So anyway, and much to my husband's chagrin, I occasionally even listen to the radio. In my defense...sometimes it's nice to have company in the morning to keep me awake during my commute - lame morning show people to laugh at or NPR to make me feel smart. Also, I like hearing the traffic reports to see what I'm in for on the drive ahead. Which brings me to my point: those traffic people have almost never been right. When they claim there's a wreck blocking part of the freeway, I usually never have to put on my brakes. When they say everything looks clear, it takes me twice as long as expected to get somewhere. It drives me crazy.

You know what else drives me crazy? The cricket that's living under my stove. I even yelled, no screamed, at it the other day while cooking {and then proceeded to laugh at myself}. My sweet mother just brought me dinner tonight*. I was complaining about the gosh darn cricket that won't shut up and she told me that in Japan, it is considered lucky to have a cricket chirping in your house. And that I should feel special. Hmmm I'm gonna go for the poison instead.

*Because she felt bad for calling me a spoiled brat on Sunday. Yep, my family all decided to express their true feelings about me last weekend... but I'm over that. Thank you for those who apologized - you know who you are {and aren't}. Good thing I love you anyway!


  1. One time I was driving to work and the traffic guy was like, "MAJOR wreck at the intersection of Street A and Street B" as I sailed through that exact spot. No car wreck. No police. There was a sprinkling of broken glass off to the side, but the thing was obviously long past cleaned up.

    We get crickets too. Drives me batty.

  2. if you remember correctly, i said, i don't think brat is really the right term. i still haven't thought of a word, but when i do, i'll let you know. in case you forgot i was "kind of" sticking up for you, and it's my apology you're waiting on, i'm sorry, but i still deny calling you a spoiled brat. it's not even high maintenance, that doesn't fit either. oh, and i told mom she was affirming that you were spoiled by bringing you dinner. :) yes, you can be spoiled but not be a brat.

  3. Let me point out, I did not call you a brat...Ryan maybe...but not me. Ryan calls me a brat too (like just yesterday), and that is why all his clothes did not get hung up like mine but rather dumped at his side of the bed. I informed him that brats do not do his laundry, so if he insists on using the term (which he considers to be a synonym for words like "pill" or "stinker" but I don't agree) then I'll act like a brat.

  4. Sisters - I was just being sarcastic... no worries.

    Kathryn, you are so funny. I think I'll try that on Clint.

  5. Noisy crickets are one aspect of AZ that I don't miss. Here in Canada it's too cold for them to exist (until summer, but even then I don't think they sneak into houses).

    How DO those bloody crickets get inside houses?

  6. ah crickets!
    and pigeons. they sit right above my laundry room just to make my life miserable with their chirping.

  7. While Clint has terrific taste in tunes, I would also have to support your appreciation in the music you listed. Yes, even the Marie Antoinette soundtrack, which is also a good film, at least visually/aesthetically. I do appreciate the Radio Dept. tracks on that soundtrack, along with many others.

  8. strong willed.

    that might be the term they were looking for.

    whenever my family harps on me, i just let them know that having backbone can sometimes look the same as being a spoiled brat. (they don't fall for it.)

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