The definition of insanity is to do the same thing and expect a different result, or so someone smart once said. (I think the definition of insanity is having octuplets, particularly when you already have SIX FREAKIN’ CHILDREN, but that’s another post.) So why is it that I persist in trying on jeans that looked good on me for 30 seconds in 2004? It is not 2004, damn it, and that’s to be celebrated. In 2004 my daughters were infants and I was exhausted and freaked out and my husband and I were growling at each other and life was generally not as good as it is right now, economic situation notwithstanding. Why can’t I declare those jeans a symbol of a darker time and archive them in the bag for Goodwill? I’m going to do that. Right now. Hold on.
[ Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â ]
OK, done, thanks.
In other news, my neighbor Emir (giving the eliptical next to me at the gym a good spanking) spontaneously sprung an excellent Formerly concept: He suggested that the Grammy’s have two shows, one for senior artists over 65, and another for the rest.
“When Paul McCartney is nominated in the same category as Ne-Yo,” Emir said, “I don’t know what to do with that.” (He also pointed out that Paul McCartney in high-def is simply not necessary, which I have to agree with.) When they whip out a Jonas Brothers/Stevie Wonder duet kind of thing, they would air it in both categories. I didn’t watch the Grammy’s, but when one of the Brothers said something to the effect of “Show me what you got, Stevie!” to Stevie Wonder, Emir (dad of two) wanted to ground him. “He should be calling him Mr. Wonder.”
Pic from brandishtv