Ladies Who Lunch

D-rell was on the UW campus today with 30 of his high schoolers. I met up with him and we had lunch. A lot of interesting things happened:

1. I told him what "Superman dat hoe" means.

2. He bragged about how much he spent in Las Vegas ("The tickets were $150!" "We ate at the highest grossing restaurant in the world!" "We didn't crash with Libby. We stayed at a hotel!")

3. I encouraged him to stick to his guns about Parke choreographing his next musical.

4. I showed him pictures of my bf to prove that Jeff's real.

5. Nobody got hurt.

Commercials, Cars, Christmas

In the spirit of my "everyday" vs. "every day" post, I'm going to rant about something that's not important but still really bothers me: those commercials on TV where people get cars for Christmas. Seriously. Who gets a car for Christmas? (Jeff says he knows someone who did once, but that was in California, which I don't count as part of my reality.)

My least favorite one goes like this:

Interior: A tastefully furnished upper-middle-class home.

Well-dressed woman looks upset about something. Her husband is clearly the cause of her low-level angst.

Well-dressed woman goes outside and is shocked (SHOCKED!), surprised (SURPRISED!), and ebullient (EBULLIENT!) to see a brand new car in the driveway.

Well-dressed woman embraces her husband and they are happy.

I also really don't like that chorus of duhs commerical. Duh is so 1990s.

I don't actually watch that much TV. Well, that's not completely true. I watch my fair share, but almost always after the show's been recorded so we can fast forward through the commercials. It is awesome to fast forward through the commercials. That may be one of the better technological advances of my lifetime thus far.