Today is a big day for Captain Thoughtful – any well wishes would be appreciated. For my part, I have a plan in place that involves cunning, shenanigans, Kreutz BBQ, laughter, and beer. Like, all of the beer. All. Of. It. I would give you all the plan details but the good Captain reads this blog every time I post because he’s supportive like that and my shenanigans would lose their shenanigans-ness if he knew about them in advance. Here is a hint – it involves beer.
Good luck today my love! You are going to knock all of the people’s socks off (which is why I’m bringing extra socks for everyone in case you were wondering what all those socks in my purse were for).
I LOVE YOUR GUTS.
As we prepare for our big move to Lincoln, I can’t help but wonder why we aren’t closer to being able to just snap our fingers and have ourselves and all our stuff moved into a new place. For the record, Amazon, I would rather you be working on that than working on getting drones to deliver my packages. If I’m living in the future, I would really like it to be a future where I never have to pack another box or drive a moving truck across the country.
While introducing my cousins to the Harry Potter movies…
Bomb-dignity cousin: Is Dobby evil?
Me: WHAT? No. Dobby is good.
Spiderwoman cousin: But does he become evil?
Me: Dobby is a good and free elf! He is never evil – only good and free!
(Realizes we are only at the very beginning of The Chamber of Secrets)
Me: Oh. Uh. Spoiler alert: Dobby gets freed.
Also, for the record, my cousins chose their own pseudonyms for the blog. Shout out to Bomb-diggity and Spiderwoman!
For the record, I would like my tombstone/urn to say “I don’t understand what just happened.”
I’ve been thinking a lot about who I am and what type of legacy I might leave behind someday. And, I’ve decided that when I’m gone, I hope that if people say one thing about me, it’s that I knew more than anyone else when it came to artisanal pickles.
Just kidding, I don’t know anything about artisanal pickles other than nom nom nom. I hope that if people say one thing about me, it’s that I was kind.
I want to be kinder than I am funny. Kinder than I am intelligent. Kinder than I am pretty. I want to be kinder every day than I was the day before. That’s what I hope people say about me when I’m gone.
How about you?
Once again, I have managed to baffle the crap out of myself by looking through my blog drafts. There are hundreds of blog drafts and each time I open one, it’s like jumping through the looking glass and finding myself in a labyrinth that is equal parts Hogwarts, Narnia, and Middle Earth. But like, if all of those places has been horribly mangled in a Nurti-Ninja and then laid out to dry on the surface of the sun.
I only had the courage to open one draft and it was titled “The adventures of Girl on the Contrary and Walter”. Who the hell is Walter? I don’t know who Walter is. Walter is a complete stranger to me and this has led me to believe that Walter was a once imaginary friend that I have eternal sunshine-d out of my memory. What did you do to me imaginary friend Walter that was so bad that I had to erase you from my memory? Did you eat the last breakfast taco? I bet it was that.
And now Captain Thoughtful has reminded me that “Walter” was what I named a My Little Pony that I was going to carry around with me and take pictures with, but never actually did.
I’m not sure which scenario is worse to be honest.
I happen to be a pretty superstitious person. There was the day my Mom had surgery and I took especial care not to step on a crack so as not to break her back. There was last Baylor football season when we went undefeated well into the season and I wore the same shirt every game day – even wearing it to my best friend’s bridal shower (hidden under a dress).
So, you can imagine my confusion when it comes to picking out a shirt for the US match against Belgium tomorrow. You see, I’m not sure I can wear what I wore during our last match – I mean, we lost, but also we made it out of the group of death. That seems like pretty murky territory when it comes to luck. But, I don’t think I can wear what we wore for the match against Portugal because we drew. The worst part? I can’t remember what I was wearing the day we played Ghana and won. I had spent the night before in the hospital with Grammy and the whole day is a blur.
Thoughts? Should I take a chance on a new shirt?
Also, my husband informed me yesterday that at the first World Cup ever, the US beat Belgium. This seems like a good omen. But it makes it all the more CRUCIAL I choose the right shirt for the match tomorrow. Any advice would be appreciated.
So, if someone were to believe that they were cursed, what would you suggest to break said curse? I’m asking for a friend.
That same friend would also like to know how one might get paid to be a ghost hunter.
Any ideas would be appreciated! I mean, I’m assuming they would be appreciated, I can’t say for sure because it’s not me, it’s my friend. But I can ask her if she appreciates your ideas and let you know.
I met up with a bunch of friends on Sunday to watch the US match against Portugal. I was feeling excited because we beat Ghana (and we never had before) but also nervous because Portugal…(Ronaldo). So, when we scored our second goal for the lead, I couldn’t help but leap up from my seat – what I failed to take into account in my celebration was the table that was directly in my way. I am now sporting a very large and unsightly bruise on my leg because AMERICA.
If that isn’t patriotism then I don’t know what is.
Of course, Portugal tied it up in the final seconds. I think my bruise hurts a little more because of that, but my spirit remains unbroken.