T. Mull just called me out for not blogging on Sunday.
I deserve that.
I had it all planned,
but then I went to a Stella & Dot party and pub trivia instead.
I don't regret it.
I took that "Which Member of the Bluth Family?" Buzzfeed quiz
I deserve that.
I had it all planned,
but then I went to a Stella & Dot party and pub trivia instead.
I don't regret it.
I took that "Which Member of the Bluth Family?" Buzzfeed quiz
(even though I'm still mad at them)
and I got Lucille.
No surprise there.
(Then I took it again & got Buster. Que?
Then I took it again and got Tobias. End of my life.)
I am choosing, for my own sanity, to latch on to my first result.
I've long believed that Lucille is one of my spirit animals:
1. She wants alcohol for breakfast
It is a daily struggle deciding not to put Bailey's in my coffee.
My responsibility & fear of getting in trouble force my hand,
but one of these days, man, one of these days...
(Super secret-but-published-on-my-blog confession in the spirit of Groundhog Week:
I was doing a bit of student teaching during G-hog Week of my junior year.
My roommates & I were out of creamer,
but obvi had tons of Bailey's,
so sleepy-Mary "accidentally" put Bailey's in her coffee
& went off to shape the minds of young ones. Whateva.)
2. She doesn't know the value of a dollar
Lucille & I are kind of opposites with this one.
I am incredibly, embarrassingly cheap.
I scrimp & scrounge in daily life now,
but it's not-so-secretly because I want to be able to
buy crazy-luxurious things throughout my life & die surrounded by wealth.
I really want someone to find my abandoned apartment 100 years later
with weird-awesome-fancy things in it.
However, I don't really know the value of a dollar, either.
I look at a lot of things and think, "I can make that for less." And I do.
But I over-value the things that I can't do,
like install a stereo system or do a handstand.
I would pay someone waaaay too much money
to do something I cannot or will not.
(Side note: The ability to do a handstand determined your value in elementary school.
I had to make up for it by playing soccer with the boys at recess
& having the coolest stickers on my binder.
This obviously affected me deeply.)
3. She chooses favorites
It instills a healthy sense of competition to play favorites with your children.
The family "favorite child" changed often;
as in, whenever one of us did something Mumsie Dearest liked.
Don't worry, we didn't take it too seriously.
We are naturally over-competitive, anyway.
4. She always wants a drink
Ain't nobody got time for sobriety.
5. She exaggerates everything
Me, to a T.
Hyperbole is a way to vent.
Obviously, my job is not an actual hellhole,
but imagining & describing it as such helps relieve the tension.
(But also it sometimes actually is, so shut up about your jobs.)
6. She has road rage
I get passive aggressive road rage.
When I call a fellow driver "friend", it means the opposite:
we are the bitterest of enemies
& I would like to ram the back of your Obama-voting,
COEXIST-believing, idiot Prius.
7. She is anti-social
I wish, very often, that I could be a hermit.
Don't get me wrong, I adore my friends & family.
It's the rest of the world that inspires such negativity.
Fairly often, I just want to pull a St. Benedict & leave.
Then I took it again and got Tobias. End of my life.)
I am choosing, for my own sanity, to latch on to my first result.
I've long believed that Lucille is one of my spirit animals:
1. She wants alcohol for breakfast
My responsibility & fear of getting in trouble force my hand,
but one of these days, man, one of these days...
(Super secret-but-published-on-my-blog confession in the spirit of Groundhog Week:
I was doing a bit of student teaching during G-hog Week of my junior year.
My roommates & I were out of creamer,
but obvi had tons of Bailey's,
so sleepy-Mary "accidentally" put Bailey's in her coffee
& went off to shape the minds of young ones. Whateva.)
2. She doesn't know the value of a dollar
I am incredibly, embarrassingly cheap.
I scrimp & scrounge in daily life now,
but it's not-so-secretly because I want to be able to
buy crazy-luxurious things throughout my life & die surrounded by wealth.
I really want someone to find my abandoned apartment 100 years later
with weird-awesome-fancy things in it.
However, I don't really know the value of a dollar, either.
I look at a lot of things and think, "I can make that for less." And I do.
But I over-value the things that I can't do,
like install a stereo system or do a handstand.
I would pay someone waaaay too much money
to do something I cannot or will not.
(Side note: The ability to do a handstand determined your value in elementary school.
I had to make up for it by playing soccer with the boys at recess
& having the coolest stickers on my binder.
This obviously affected me deeply.)
3. She chooses favorites
The family "favorite child" changed often;
as in, whenever one of us did something Mumsie Dearest liked.
Don't worry, we didn't take it too seriously.
We are naturally over-competitive, anyway.
4. She always wants a drink
5. She exaggerates everything
Hyperbole is a way to vent.
Obviously, my job is not an actual hellhole,
but imagining & describing it as such helps relieve the tension.
(But also it sometimes actually is, so shut up about your jobs.)
6. She has road rage
When I call a fellow driver "friend", it means the opposite:
we are the bitterest of enemies
& I would like to ram the back of your Obama-voting,
COEXIST-believing, idiot Prius.
7. She is anti-social
Don't get me wrong, I adore my friends & family.
It's the rest of the world that inspires such negativity.
Fairly often, I just want to pull a St. Benedict & leave.
But alas, I have no skills or outdoors-iness.
I would die.
I will just have to be a lady-hermit in my eccentric Parisian apartment.
I guess that will do.
8. She has the best comebacks
As I mentioned, this week is Groundhog Week.
I am tremendously excited & probably won't post again until Monday.
I would die.
I will just have to be a lady-hermit in my eccentric Parisian apartment.
I guess that will do.
8. She has the best comebacks
I either respond with a cutting, snarky remark
or a playground retort.
Panic plays a large part in which I choose.
I have many spirit animals, but Lucille is my aging-gracefully
& preserved-by-alcohol spirit animal.
BLESS.
I am tremendously excited & probably won't post again until Monday.
