FRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRer her hoo hah.
You know how we pronounce pajamas two different ways? And by we I mean, probably just Americans. I think.
So like, pajamas. The jam being pronounced like jam. Like grape jam. Or a Grateful Dead jam sesh. Or those bad-to-the-bone culottes we wore in the ’80s with the neon shapes splashed here and there called jams. Pajamas.
We call them pajamas. Like, pajahmas. Like, “say ahhhhhh.” That’s common, too.
Also we call them jammies. As in, “Get your jammies on, then you can make Mommy a taco and give her a back rub!” With the jam being pronounced, once again, like a jar of grape jam. Totally natural.
But you know what we never say? Jammies. Like, jahmmies.
Say it out loud. “Where did you get those jahmmies, brah?” See? You’re laughing. We just can’t get away with it. Americans can’t do this without sounding completely ridiculous.
I bet Nigella Lawson could say to her children, “Darling nuggets, slip into your jahmmies and I’ll fetch you a cup of tea and a biscuit,” and it would sound like melted butter on my cracked-wide-open, submissive soul hole.
But we just sound like Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure.
Why is one pronunciation completely acceptable and normal, and the other is douche turd city?
These are the things I think about at night and all the time.
Can we talk about that Magic Bullet thing? I don’t have one. I should start there.
Are they, as the name boasts, magic?
And I don’t mean rabbit-out-the-hat-make-an-Amtrak-disappear-Copperfield type of stuff. But is it truly amazing?
THIS IS WHY I ASK. (didn’t mean to scream that part.)
There are times when I’m making say, a salad dressing, or a chimichurri, and my goal is to basically pulverize the crap out of the parsley. Or any herb. And I feel like (mini or regular) food processor blades (or even standard-sized blenders) shove the herbs to the side of the basin so fast that it has no time to chop or blend or truly break down into micro specks, man!
Will a Magic Bullet do that?
When I was in Paris a few years ago, we were taking a cooking class at this restaurant called Spring, and as we hovered around the kitchen like salivating blood hounds watching the chefs being complete wizard geniuses with food, I saw this one dude making a chive oil with what LOOKED to be something bullet-y. I’ve never stopped thinking about it.
That, and the fact that we can’t say jahmmies.
Is the Magic Bullet my answer? Or something like it?
Basically, what will give me Paris chive oil? Thanks and goodbye.
Speaking of boobs, who here sleeps in a bra? I need a show of hands. Do you sleep in a bra?
And obviously there are bras that would be awful to sleep in. But if you’re in say, a bralette, or a loose-ish sports bra, or anything without an underwire, do you leave it on?
Truthfully I’m just too lazy to take mine off. 90% of the time I sleep in a bra and I WANT TO SAY this is normal? (my mom is shaking her head like, “honestly why does this blog exist.”)
I think there are even sleep bras, aren’t there?! Hold on, I’m asking the Goog.
UM THERE SO ARE. See, I’m not a total loon! (don’t look at me like that.)
POLL: do you sleep in a bra, or do you “let the girls be free?” (my friend Lacy is rolling her eyes so hard at that right now, I can feel it.)
Guys I still haven’t unrolled the tent for my earrings. I know you’ve all been on the edge of your lives wondering.
Well they CANCELED school for all the ice and snow we’re getting today, but so far all I see out there is the tiniest loogie from one little cloud.
Tomorrow we’re having friends over (to talk about our renovation ideas! he’s an architect and she’s a designer. i have cool friends.), so we’ll have a taco party for the kids while I have an ACTUAL GLASS OF WINE (it’s been two whole weeks!) and blab about vaulted ceilings, skylights and french doors and wait it costs how much?
Other than that, I still have art to hang, pants to organize, shoes to go through, The Giver of Stars to read, and you know what, why don’t we just make that two glasses of wine.