Groundhog Day
Feb. 2nd, 2018 09:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ismoWatching "Groundhog Day" in front of a warm fire. "I'm going to give you a prediction about this winter. It's going to be cold, it's going to be dark and it's going to last you for the rest of your lives." That's how it feels right now, anyway. The Sparrowhawk just created another quote for me, this time from him, my personal weatherman: "You can see the truth, and you can feel the truth, but you can't always know the truth right away." I'm not sure what that means, but it sounds deep after a drink. My theory was that you should drink a shot every time the alarm clock turns to 6:00, but given that this happens 11 times, I decided that would be unwise. I just had one shot that I sipped very slowly.
Sometimes when I call my mother, she asks me brightly, "Well, what did YOU do all day?" This is her favorite way of deflecting when it gets too hard for her to make sense of things. I really have to come up with some better answers, even if I have to make them up. I could probably say anything, and she'd just forget it later. But you never know. Sometimes she remembers things you wish she didn't. This question is guaranteed to make me feel that I live a life of gratuitous futility. Today's big accomplishment was succeeding in forcing myself to order a new pair of pajamas. My old ones are literally falling apart at the seams, but I have great difficulty spending the money for new things. I think, "I don't really need pajamas. Nobody really needs pajamas." But since it took me two hours to get my mother to order a new nightgown, I felt I had to make an effort and not fall into the parental rut. It's cute if you're young and living in rags. When you're my age, it's disturbing and pathetic. One definitely wouldn't want to be taken to the ER in my pajamas. The bottoms are faded, ripped, and the elastic is wearing through on a threadbare camo-print fabric. The top is the ubiquitous Suicide Cult t-shirt. I need a change. But I know when the new ones come, I'll hate them because they'll make me feel so bourgeois. I know what--I'll wear them ironically! Yeah, that's the ticket. I wonder if there's a cocktail called "Flannel Pajamas." If not, there should be.
OMG, there IS a drink called Flannel Pajamas. It sounds kind of good, too. Internet, I love you. You bring me everything.
https://weheartthis.com/2016/01/26/flannel-pajamas-whiskey-cocktail-recipe/
There's also another recipe from the Winchester in Chicago, but it starts with "pumpkin-chai infused Scotch," to which I say No, just NO. Sometimes the internet brings me things that are ungodly, and not in a good way.
Sometimes when I call my mother, she asks me brightly, "Well, what did YOU do all day?" This is her favorite way of deflecting when it gets too hard for her to make sense of things. I really have to come up with some better answers, even if I have to make them up. I could probably say anything, and she'd just forget it later. But you never know. Sometimes she remembers things you wish she didn't. This question is guaranteed to make me feel that I live a life of gratuitous futility. Today's big accomplishment was succeeding in forcing myself to order a new pair of pajamas. My old ones are literally falling apart at the seams, but I have great difficulty spending the money for new things. I think, "I don't really need pajamas. Nobody really needs pajamas." But since it took me two hours to get my mother to order a new nightgown, I felt I had to make an effort and not fall into the parental rut. It's cute if you're young and living in rags. When you're my age, it's disturbing and pathetic. One definitely wouldn't want to be taken to the ER in my pajamas. The bottoms are faded, ripped, and the elastic is wearing through on a threadbare camo-print fabric. The top is the ubiquitous Suicide Cult t-shirt. I need a change. But I know when the new ones come, I'll hate them because they'll make me feel so bourgeois. I know what--I'll wear them ironically! Yeah, that's the ticket. I wonder if there's a cocktail called "Flannel Pajamas." If not, there should be.
OMG, there IS a drink called Flannel Pajamas. It sounds kind of good, too. Internet, I love you. You bring me everything.
https://weheartthis.com/2016/01/26/flannel-pajamas-whiskey-cocktail-recipe/
There's also another recipe from the Winchester in Chicago, but it starts with "pumpkin-chai infused Scotch," to which I say No, just NO. Sometimes the internet brings me things that are ungodly, and not in a good way.
no subject
Date: 2018-02-05 06:19 pm (UTC)(Tell me your size and I'll send you pyjamas, which you won't have to feel guilty about because they're a gift.)
/just spent 15 minutes agonizing about t-shirts I know I need.
no subject
Date: 2018-02-06 03:17 am (UTC)