1) I enormously dislike it when a husband is referred to as a "hubby." Big dislike, baby. And I have no idea why. I have never referred to Wayne as my hubby or hubster or hubs and absolutely never ever will, no matter what the blogosphere tells me. It weirds me out, and I have no logical explanation for why that is. Wayne doesn't seem to care one way or another, but I would certainly not appreciate it if Wayne started referring to me on his blog as his wiffy or even worse, the wubs. It sounds completely RIDICULOUS! Arghhhhhh! However, I do sometimes feel like Wayne should have a code name (despite the fact that I've revealed his real name several times) so that I can keep him safely anonymous since there's all kinds of scary people out there reading my blog. I'm sure of it.
But not hubby. Anything but hubby. It's agonizingly tacky and sounds a little emasculating. Glagh.
2) I've slowly been learning how much of an online blog culture actually exists -- and it is a strong culture. There are fads and leaders and followers and wanna-bes. I'm pretty sure the majority of female bloggers under the age of 17 have spent much of the last couple weeks of spring posting macro shots of flower blossoms from their backyard with airy pretty quotes underneath, then posted pictures from their latest baking endeavour, describing the culinary experience with explosively descriptive adjectives. Now I'm not saying there's anything wrong with this blogging style. It's your blog -- blog away, my friends. That's what a blog is for. I just think it's interesting how certain blogging styles can be so strong within particular demographics.
Bad Suzanne. Bad future PW. Bad.
3. On the weekend while driving through the city we passed by a junkyard that was completely packed with old cars. It was surrounded by high fences that were topped with barbed wire, and staggered along the fence were signs -- signs that said "Beware of Dogs". I did not think that junkyards with guard dogs actually existed and it took me about three blocks to calm down. I totally thought junkyard dogs were the creation of cartoonists and bad plot writers.
I'm sorry. I don't know why this is such a huge deal. I'm fascinated. It's weird.
4. On the same drive this weekend, we were stopped at a busy intersection when a car passed us going in the opposite direction. It wasn't just any car. It was a screaming yellow Mustang convertible, and the dude had suped it up with rims, racing stripes, inappropriate text along the side, the works. But that wasn't all. There were antlers -- antlers -- fastened all over the car. Antlers on the hood, on the doors, on the trunk -- and to complete the ensemble, a full-out buck's head attached to the very back of the car. The best part was the dude had this creepily loud sound of a horse whinnying at intervals coming out of some sort of speaker... Wayne and I stared at it in silence, then looked at each other in shock and just started laughing hysterically.
That's not all.
We saw the 'stang AGAIN, the next day, in a different part of the city! We heard him before we saw him -- the loud whinnying, you see. More laughter. Even more disbelief. Still not sure how we ran into him twice.
Okay. Now that is all. Thanks for tuning in. Ya'll are shining stars.