Trivial Pursuits

I'm not quite sure when exactly the tradition of the "fun facts" started, yet sometime in the past year or so Jason started bringing home fun facts from work.  Along with the fun facts there would be a few trivia questions to answer.  The first time he brought them over it was just me and him going through them.  But on the 2nd or 3rd batch my mom happened to be home when he brought them out to read.  Mom instantly fell in love with the fun facts and so the tradition began.  Here and there whenever she is off in the evening and we all eat together, she'll start asking Jason for them.  Mom:  Fun facts!  Where are the fun facts? I waaaaant fun facts!

About once or twice a month Jason will produce a pile of papers with said trivia and fun facts--prompting my mom to nickname Jason:  Facts Man.  Feel free to run with this in your head!  Example 1: Dinner dinner dinner dinner dinner dinner dinner dinner FACTS MAAAN!  Yes, along with the hours of fun the the facts gave came the hours of fun talking about how fun my (Example 2:) Man of the Facts is.  

And so tonight was no different from any other night of fun facts.  We had Lemon Herb Chicken Helper w/Mixed Veggies followed by chants of:  Fun facts!  Where are the fun facts? I waaaaant fun facts! :)  Jason dug up some trivia of the day and so the fun began. After about 8 or 9 trivia questions mom was on a roll getting most of them right.  We were all laughing and carrying on having so much fun <facts>.   

The event that took place on or about question number 10 is the reason I am now sharing all of this with you!  Do you recall in my last post where I talked about my willingness to sing badly and the great joy it brings to me?  Well, here you go: 

Following the plane crash of 19xx marked our country's "day the music died".  Which artists were killed in this crash?   

All I heard was "day the music died" uh huh! Youuuu guessed it:

"I started singin'

 So, bye-bye, Miss American Pie
Drove my Chevy to the levee
But the levee was dry
And them good old boys were drinkin' whiskey and rye
Singin' this'll be the day that I die
This'll be the day that I die"

As I started belting this out (LOUDLY), mom joined in and illustrated.  It went a lil something like this:

Mom: waving hand with big waves.  Me: So, bye-bye Miss American Pie

Mom: Hands at 10 and 2 "driving".  Me: drove my Chevy

Mom: pointing at the invisible levee  Me: to the levee

Mom: holding her hand up like where is it?  Me: but the levee was dry

Mom: tipping her hand up like a bottle  Me: them good ol' boys were drinkin' whiskey and rye

Mom: pointing a gun to her head  Me: singin this'll be the day that I die

Mom: again with the gun and some rolled eyes playing dead  Me: ooooh this'lllll be the daaaaay that I diiiiiiiie...

If this wasn't enough, after we did this once Jason proceeded to try to read the available answers.  Immediately mom started waving again.  Needless to say I joined in; we did the entire routine again ending it in peals of laughter.  Jason was just sitting there watching the entire spectacle, completely unphased by it all.  Afterwards we just went right back to answering the question.  I am sure going to miss nights like these come the end of July when me and mom part ways. *tear*

~M  

P.S.  After taking it "easy" on our workout regime the past two weeks we have renewed our diligence.  Yesterday we picked up where we left off...*groan*.  I feel I may have turned into a chocolate bunny after all.  NO MORE EASTER CANDY FOR ME---EVER!!! ;)

 
 
 

I love you P.S.

I have a friend who likes to remind me, pretty much every time I see her, of how very OLD I am.  Which to me is kinda funny since I'm only 5 years older than she is.  For me, age becomes more and more irrelevant the older I get. Secretly I wait for the day when she hits the "dirty thirty" so I can plot my revenge, complete with black balloons, black cake, and black candles. *evil laugh*

Although no one likes to be reminded of their inadequacies, I find it particularly irritating when someone brings up a topic that is not only out of my control but is also the inevitable.  Truly--aging beats the hell out of the alternative! ;) Besides, perfection is boring and over rated--I mean, even diamonds are unique because of their flaws.  So, since I've recently realized that I have the tendency to rant more than rave, I shall treat you to some of my favorite underwhelming "qualities" about myself. :)

I am klutzy.  I tend to run into things, spill things--fumble them if you will.  Sugar coat it however you like, but overall, I am not a graceful person.  In saying that: I LOVE to dance; as much as I love to dance, I am equally awkward at it. Reminds me of the cheer in Buffy the Vampire Slayer:  "How funky is your chicken? How funky is your chicken? How loose is your goose? Our goose is totally loose! So come on all you Hog fans, so come on all you Hog fans and shake your caboose, and shake your caboose! WHoooO!" So uh yea, it's bad!  Doesn't stop me from shakin' my caboose though! Nope nope--I'm in like Flynn!


I love to sing--preferably at the top of my lungs, but just loud in general works too.  I find it is best to miss as many notes as possible; I also like to give myself bonus points for inventing "new" lyrics.   
"There was a little girl who had a little curl
Right in the middle of her forehead;
When she was good, she was very, very good,
And when she was bad she was horrid."
Cut to me: all good at being bad and horrid! ;)  I think that if you're going to be bad at something you enjoy doing, then you may as well enjoy doing it badly...but that's just me.  My ex used to tell me: "Mags, you are NOT the next American Idol".  Well no shit Sherlock; what was your first clue?  When I wasn't standing in a long line to audition? Hmmm:   "Curiouser and curiouser!"
Thankfully Jason loves to hate my singing; he is fantastic at coming up with funny lyrics. Together, we spit lyrical poetry and freestyle to a funky fresh beat...ya feel me?! ah ha!:)

Viola, there they are folks:  two of my favorite worst qualities. :)  I'm sure there are many to choose from, but these two are keepers!  Yes, I shall cherish my lack of rhythm and tone deafness until the hip bone connected to the leg bone degenerates from my OLD self and my Def Jams go platinum.


~M

P.S.  I thought of the perfect P.S. earlier when I started this whole blog and now I've forgotten it! Grrr!  The P.S. is kind of like my thing.  Like the abrupt subject change which in conversation would sound something like:  Not to change the subject, but....