Currently listening to: The Cure's Bloodflowers album
Reminds me of: The two Cure concerts I went to during the Dream Tour, summer of 2000. The shows were at the Greek Theater, and there was no opening band. Instead, they played a recording of Barber's Adagio for Strings, so ethereal under the summer evening sky. Magical.
Here, for your reading pleasure, a selection of things that are seriously irritating me tonight. It's been a very long, very bad day.
Today has been a nightmare with Judah. He SCREAMED from 9:45 to 11:00 this morning and would not be comforted. I finally put him in his crib so I could take a shower because I figured he was going to scream no matter what I did. And he did. When I picked him up he wouldn't look at me, and then he wouldn't smile at me for half the day. And then tonight, when I went to choir practice, he decided that he WOULD NOT drink from a bottle, so Nathan had to call me and I had to come home to feed the monster. Do you know what this means?!? It means that I CAN NEVER LEAVE JUDAH AGAIN FOR MORE THAN TWO HOURS. My life is over.
People on the road tonight were driving like absolute idiots. GET OFF THE CELL PHONE! You obviously cannot drive and talk at the same time without threatening the lives of people in ALL THREE LANES. Oh, and that space between the double yellow lines and the island, that's not a lane. So GET OUT OF THERE! And you better not change lanes to get in front of me unless you plan on beating the 65 mph I'm doing. And then, THEN there's the guy that has to turn into MY LANE even though there are two other lanes that are perfectly clear. Who are these people and why are they allowed on the road?
Oh, and the man in Starbucks. Already he's loud and obnoxious and hyper, and he goes and orders EIGHT SHOTS OF ESPRESSO. Are you kidding me? Why doesn't he just mainline speed? It would be faster, and probably cheaper. And then he goes and sits down by this kid he doesn't know and proceeds to start a conversation when the guy's obviously trying to study. It's a good thing he wasn't trying to talk to me, because I would have withered all the hair on his head with my evil new-mother-with-raging-hormones-and-a-crabby-baby glare.
If Judah knows what's good for him he'll sleep for ten hours tonight and do nothing but smile tomorrow. And he should probably rub my feet, too. And change his own diapers.