Unrelated to the Bard, pigeons, falafel, and sweat-accommodating clothing, I have two updates for you:
1) The jets from Monday’s pictures were for The Trooping of the Colour in celebration of the Queen’s birthday. I felt only slightly ignorant for being informed of this by someone living in Boston (thanks Brent!).
2) Oftentimes in my blog I will refer to people as “stupid,” “idiots,” or “insanely incompetent.” Sigh. It is with great sadness, and shock for you I’m sure, that I must now include myself in those categories. When I mocked the Freddie Mercury fans for inscribing the words “I still love you” on his door, I was not privy to the meaning behind this phrase and simply took the opportunity to further ridicule yellow-toothed Brits. It was not until my friend Ted, a contender for Freddie Mercury’s Biggest Fan, enlightened me that this lyric was dramatically expressed in video for “These Are The Days Of Our Lives,” the last video made by Queen; Freddie looked straight into the camera and all but whispered it. It is believed that this was his way of saying goodbye to his fans. Excuse me, waiter? I do believe I’ll have a slice of that humble pie.
My inane thoughts are slowly creeping into my dreams. And while the following dream I had is absolutely absurd, it might also be a brilliant idea:
I was supposed to get together with some guy to study (I’m pretty sure I will be having nightmares about academia until the day I die) but we had never met before so there was uncertainty as to how he would know who I was (for some reason I knew what HE looked like). I was standing near the bus stop waiting for him to arrive when I saw him get off a bus. Instead of looking around for me, he simply bellowed at the top of his lungs, “Lisaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!” and waited for me to come to him.
So. Clearly I had this dream so I could relay to all of you a fantastic way of rendezvousing with a blind date, a client, or a middle-aged study buddy with a colossal red beard. (Please do not make insinuations about beards, my dad, and my dreams. That’s not necessary.)
A brief, yet crucial letter to the sports teams of Boston:
Dear Red Sox, Patriots, and Celtics,
Please stop winning championships when I am out of the country. It’s really not working out for me waking up at 3:30 in the morning to eye-flutter my way through your games. By all means, keep being awesome and winning. But please try to keep my schedule in mind when you do, okay?
XOXO,
Lisa
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment