On the other hand, I have discovered my mother's secret talent. All these years she has been holding out on me. That woman can make one hell of a delicious smoothie/shake. Thank god, because that is all I have been eating for the past two days with the exception of the occasional soup.
I think the Percocet is making me sentimental because I decided it would be a great idea to buy the first season of Felicity. A stroke of brilliance really. I forgot how much I loved watching TV shows about young women trying to find their identity amidst a backdrop which so perfectly captures the essence of 90s pop culture (vis a vis My So Called Life, come on, you know exactly what I'm talking about). Granted in the beginning Felicity does show severe signs of stocker-itis, but she's just trying to find out where she fits in, in this great big world of oversized knit sweaters, pig tails and butterfly hair clips. I mean, can you really blame her? I am almost nostalgic for the days of telephones with spiraled cords and the occasional beeper. It made checking your voice mail so much more exciting when you couldn't tell who called you. Not to mention prank calling games were more successful.
Who am I kidding, I just barely survived sans Internet access for merely two days before the fix-it guy stopped by this morning. The damage has been done, the jury's out: I'm a wired girl for life. But that doesn't mean I can't bust out an old pair of worn doc martins and reminisce.
No comments:
Post a Comment