I'm 31, people.

I just painted my fingernails neon green. If I were in a teenager's room, with one of those blacklights my nails would be the first thing you see. Why is it whenever I paint them I feel like they are someone else's hands? I'm always surprised to see them done up, like "Who did that to me?" It's all very confusing until one nail starts to chip and then I remember me again.

In other news, this morning I saw a woman wearing a pink slipper on her left foot and an oversized men's loafer on her right. She had a cane and stopped every few minutes to look around, as if she just lost that other slipper. I wanted to tell her it's probably in a garbage somewhere.

And then I saw a guy at the gym who I always see. He actually drives me crazy, because he walks around like he hates being there. He's slouched over and acts like Eeyore. When I hear him shuffle his feet and act all, 'dopey dopey doh' I just want to shake him. Instead, I just do more crunches and sit up a little straighter.

Imports

Do you ever go through stages of what you like? I do.

Sometimes I go crazy for apples, and then I move onto yogurt, and then onto peanut butter, and then I like gardening and then there's hiking and so on.

I'm like a 10-year old who can't decide which group to join.

And this is how I am with music. I will never let go of my favorites. Cat Stevens, Hot Chip, George Harrison, Bob Dylan and The Raincoats will always make me smile. I could listen to 'If you want to sing out, sing out' a million times and I would request it a million more. But I remember a time when I saw 5 Dave Matthews concerts in one summer, and now you couldn't pay me to buy a cd let alone see him tap his toes in a show.

This year I'm really digging any import I can get my hands on - for free. Yes, I'm one of those people who went to Sonic Boom the other day, asked a guy what he would recommend in the way of xylophones and Zimbabwe music. He showed me his favorites, I remembered them and then immediately got them at the library.

I can't get enough of this music. I dance around the whole house, while Dominic laughs. It makes me happy. The words make no sense so I can't sing, but I can shake it ridiculously. I don't care that I have no moves or that my neighbors might see. I love this music too much. It's like soulful meets rhythm meets awesome.

I get up too early.

I've noticed that if I don't set my alarm, even on the weekends I wake up REALLY early. Like 5am on a friggin' Saturday. I used to eat breakfast, then go back to sleep till about 9, but that just made me even more tired. So I stopped my morning nap but now I'm just the antsy in my pantsy. Why doesn't the world want to hang out with me at 7 in the morning? Or with a to-do list that's mile long, how come I can never muster up the time/energy to do them? Probably because all I really want to do is go by the beach and read The Help and then take a nap in the beautiful weather we're having. But I have to wait another 4 hours because the bus takes way too long to get to the beach I want to go to and Dominic won't be back till noon. The Waiting. The Torture.

I guess this means I'll have to walk around with my ipod searching for garage sales and hoping that one of them has the lamp I actually like or vintage lounge chairs for our lawn that don't cost a pretty penny.

Stupid blog today, but as you can tell I'm procrastinating just to waste another minute here.