Happy Monday! Yes, I know that it's only been officially Monday for about oh....one second. But still, it's Monday, and I can wish you a good one. Got a problem with that, buster brown? No? Good.
Now you might be wondering why I'm posting my blog in the middle of the night. Well, I have an answer, and it's a good one. Wow, I don't get to say that often. Anyone got a tape recorder? No? Oh well, maybe next time.
So...Why am I posting Mia's Monday Madness at one second past midnight? Because that's when I wear pajamas, silly. Ew! I don't like using the word pajamas. Too stuffy and formal. Yuck. I prefer jammies. But I digress...as usual.
I wear jammies to bed every night. Before you smack me around for stating the obvious, I know that most people wear jammies. But I have a point, and I'm making my way towards it. Just give me a minute to get there. Sheesh. The impatience of some people. (Snorts) Like that isn't the pot calling the kettle.
My jammies are my friends. And boy, do I have a lot of them. We're talking a bunch. It's probably because I practically collect them. Why would I do that? Well, jammies are my thing. Some women like shoes while others like purses. Some men like cars, and some kids like trains. But everyone has a thing they love to buy or be given. For me, it's jammies....and panties. However, I'm thinking you don't want to talk about my pretty panty fetish. Not today anyway.
Now what prompted this particular blog? Well, this is embarassing and completely random. But I had an incident this weekend. (Gasp) No, it was nothing bad. It was worse. (Gasp) Tragedy struck. And I have to admit that I nearly cried. Nearly being the key word. I held back the moisture valiantly. The curses? Not so much. I got a little happy and seriously colorful with my word choices.
So...I'll bet your staring at the computer screen in confusion. Well, I won't keep you in suspense. Here it is: My favorite pajamas bit the dust. These poor babies were there one minute and gone the next. Yes, that means...the waistband broke free. Go ahead. Laugh. I know you want to.
Ah, who am I kidding? If I wasn't so tramatized, I would probably be laughing my happy bottom off, too. But no. These were broken in perfectly. Twelve years tends to do that to jammies. And did I mention they stretched like nobody's business? Stretch Armstrong had nothing on these.
Back in high school, I was a teeny, tiny thing. And now...well, I'm not. But these magical jammies fit back then, and they fit until yesterday. Okay, okay. I might be stretching it a bit. Please excuse the pun. The jammies were too big back in 2000. And they were just a bit tight in 2012. But only a bit, I assure you. (Snorts)
Although, their size doesn't matter because soon I will be burying them. I shall take my Tweety bird jammies —don't you dare laugh —and stuff them in a shoe box before burying them six feet under. Okay, now you may laugh. But please don't hurt yourself. That would suck.
Hmmm...I could so say something about sucking. But I will control myself. Really, I will.
So, I bet you're probably wondering whether or not I would actually bury my jammies. Or you might be wearing the OMG...You're scaring the crap out of me look. Or even better, you're going to the nearest phone to call the crazy house and see if they have an opening. Either way, I must confess that I'm telling the truth. I wouldn't dare throw out something that memorable, not something that precious.
Ha! I couldn't resist. Love me some Gollum, but I don't think I'm that far gone. Despite my jammie
obsession, I just can't imagine I would go completely off the deep end. The colorful fish aren't that pretty. Although....
Nah. Instead, I think I'm going to try something I've never done before. Oooh, I'm going to pop my cherry on something. Hot.
What am I going to do? Well, I'm going to attempt to make a memory quilt. Now I'm not really familiar with these things. My friend suggested that I give it a try, but I'm not one hundred percent sold on the idea. See, here's the thing. I can't draw a straight line. And cutting something has disaster written all over it...in my blood. However, I'm going to look into it. Me and Google are tight, you know. :)
Wow. For a completely random, off-the-wall discussion about one of my life's most frivolous passions, this blog has taken on a life of its own. So I guess I'm going to wrap it up. That way I can go crawl in bed and break in my newer jammies. Yes, these are only about eight years old. They've got time...and plenty of it.
Hope you all have a wonderful week. With Thanksgiving and Black Friday, it's looking to be a peach. Much love and best holiday wishes! XOXOXO!
Love and cherries,
p.s. This is my favorite scene in a movie...Wonder why?