Last night was another strange voyage of dreams. Maybe I need to rethink my bedtime rituals. Maybe I should try chamomile tea. Maybe I need to walk away from my computer earlier in the evening instead of looking to Twitter for a lullaby. Maybe I should just stop swallowing the mouthwash.
Regardless, after what felt like seventeen hours of trying to convince my dad not to keep live rats in his mouth during cross country road trips and watching cruise ships spew the black and white headshots from the cast of HAIR from their smoke stacks, I am again tired this morning. Fortunately, Gwen performed an apology ballet on the hood of our station wagon as we barreled down some rural road lined with corn fields. Her dance was quite moving (Get it? On a moving vehicle? Moving performance? Sigh, somebody find me a pillow…). I could tell the apology was sincere even though I was consistently distracted by Mom yelling at Dad as he stretched precariously out the car’s back window to feed the orange kangaroos that were chasing us.
The moral of the story? Gwen and I are on speaking terms again.
I hope to celebrate our renewed bonds of friendship with a nap. In the meantime, I leave you with a video that I simply can’t stop watching. Can’t. Stop. Seriously, somebody help me stop. I need an intervention.
Surprisingly, there are no vampires involved…or drag queens…or creepy old swingers from South Carolina. There’s nothing even mildly inappropriate in here. In fact, this might be the cleanest video I’ve ever posted. Hell, I’m a little disappointed in me.
By the by, I know what I want to be when I grow up. I want to be the person that makes weird noises with their mouth to accompany stop-motion music videos. I practiced for hours last night while I was trying to fall asleep. I’m pretty darn good at it, if I do say so myself (making noises, not falling asleep). Sometimes I even flail about to add more authenticity to the sounds.
I’m particularly adept at recreating squealing tires and explosions. Ask Rocco if you don’t believe me. I’d ask him myself but he’s not speaking to me. He’s a little crabby from sleep deprivation. Apparently he’s having trouble sleeping, too. Maybe we have the thermostat set too high. It’s so strange that we would BOTH have trouble sleeping.