FRRRRRRRRRRewey dew! I dunno.
Do you make the bed?
What I mean is, when do you make the bed?
What I MEAN is, how do you make the bed?
What I MEAN MEAN is, are you into making your bed?
This blog post already completely sucks.
What I MEAN EEEES, is making the bed something you’re super into? Like, do you slop it together first thing in the morning, not really minding a wonky corner or an untucked side?
Or do you leave it unmade the entire day, knowing you’re going to crawl right back in bed in a handful of hours because your kids are home from cancelled school for the rest of time and SO HELP YOU GOD YOU MIGHT MURDER ALL OF EVERYTHING AND END UP IN PRISON SO THIS BED IS ALL YOU REALLY HAVE WHEN IT COMES DOWN TO IT?
Or do you treat it as a morning ritual, taking care to pull the sheets tightly and evenly, running your hand over the top layer to smooth it out, tucking the corners in neatly and properly? Do you fluff pillows and stylize throw blankets according to seasons or colors?
Do you ask for help so that you can knock it out quickly, but only get frustrated when Aaron (I mean, your husband) doesn’t pull the sheet up all the way, or fails to tuck it in compliant to normal human standards, so you end up having to walk around to his side and fix what he haphazardly slopped together like some barbaric animal? Or do you skip asking all together because you know you can do it exquisitely, and would rather just take it on alone?
. . . Asking for a friend.
When I was a lot younger (with no jowls), and I’d hear some big-time rock star come on the local radio station and say, “You’re listening to KZOR Hobbs, New Mexico” or whatever, I would totally think they were THERE RIGHT THEN. Like, in my town! How thrilling! I wonder if I could ask my mom to drive me to the studio and sneak in to grab a glance. Get an autograph. Maybe even a photo with my pink Le Clic! I might be too late. I wonder how long they’ll be here, and what brought them through. This is just too exciting.
And then one day when I was a little bit older (still no jowls) I realized, “Ohhhhhhhhh it’s pre-recorded.”
And my dreams were shot down like duck corpses falling from the sky.
BEV’S IMAGINARY BOOK CLUB UPDATE.
Also, someone told me yesterday in IG Stories that I should rename my book club Bev Books. Hahahahahaha. Instead of Bev Cooks. You know?
I like it.
Anyway (don’t you dare ever ask me to say anywho), I finished A Place For Us a few days ago, and posted my recap in the Stories highlights! Such an incredible book. What a heartbreaking journey, UGH. I’ll stop talking. Go watch my recaps, and tell me if you’ve read it! And what you thought. And if you pictured Fatima Farheen Mirza to look exactly like Amira Ali.
Up next! I’m starting One Day in December today, and I hear it’s delightfully fluffy and fun. I NEED THE FLUFF, man. Especially after APFU. It’s like a palette cleanser. Like when you sniff coffee beans between smelling candles or perfumes in the mall or something.
And then after that, Where the Crawdads Sing! Which I know I’m super late to the party on this, as the entire world has already read it and I’m the only person left on the planet who hasn’t.
So join in if ya fancy! Or don’t. You know. Up to you. Either way. I’m breezy.
“You can’t SAY you’re breezy. That totally negates the breezy!” (<–nts.)
Why do we “curl up” with a book? Why is there curling involved? What if you’re sitting upright on the sofa? Does that cancel out the reading?
Why do we not “curl up” to a magazine? We don’t curl. We “flip through” a magazine. Curl up with a book, and flip through a magazine.
And no one curls up or flips through a cookbook. We PERUSE a cookbook.
And no one curls up to a T.V. show. We binge that ish. We don’t binge a book. Why isn’t there more book binging? Because that’s weird and nonhuman.
And a movie? Ya simply watch.
And a bottle of wine? If YOU drink the whole thing, it’s, “I enjoyed that wine.” If someone ELSE finishes the bottle, it’s “polished off.” Because there’s judgement that obviously must be cast.
These are the things I think about at night and all the time.
It’s going to snow 195 #&%ing feet today. School has been cancelled yet again. But it’s okay. I’ve wrapped my head around the fact that I’ll die in this house with my small children needing a granola bar or asking to watch Pink Panther for 85 hours.
Crap I need to go to the store! Tell me something yummy to make tonight. Something perfect for snow days. And make it good, because you know this is obviously my last meal.