Smoking is bad for you

Apparently, my daughter has appointed herself Cigarette Police, and I'm not exactly sure why this is. No one in my family smokes, so she knows very little about cigarettes in general, but starting from the time she was approximately three years old, whenever we walked by someone who was smoking, Em would start up with this hacking (and believe me, completely fake) cough. It's actually hilarious, but probably not so much if you're the person it's directed at. And I tend not to laugh as hard when that person is a big burly motorcycle dude or something. Lately, she's taken up actually TELLING them that smoking is bad for them. And while that is completely and inarguably true, I don't think smokers appreciate hearing that.

Anyway, this weekend, as we were driving to Krutchy's softball game, I said to both of the kids, "Ok, guys, listen. A lot of people at the game are going to be swearing. You're not allowed to repeat any of those words. Got it? Also, a lot of people will be smoking. Please don't tell them it's bad for them. They KNOW it's bad for them, and even though I know you're just thinking about their health and that's very sweet, they really don't want to hear that from you. Ok?" And they did me proud. I didn't hear a single swear or guilt trip out of either one of them.

So today I was recounting all of this to Brian, and he told me something that made me laugh for about three minutes. His 6 year-old son (who is one of the funniest kids I have ever met) recently walked up to someone who was sucking on a cigarette, and whispered in that person's ear, "I think smoking smells good."

Kids... they so crack me up.

Procratinatory

It's 1:00 in the afternoon, and I've just eaten a bowl of corn pops (my first meal of the day). I should be cleaning my apartment, but since I don't actually feel like doing that just yet, I figured it would be a good time to blog.

So. I'm going to a sex toy party tonight. Now, since unless you're the one person I know who reads this blog, you probably don't know much about me. Therefore, I will let you in on a little secret: I am SO not a sex-toy-party type person. I mean, granted, I'm 27 years old, and obviously not totally naive when it comes to sex, but throw toys into the equation, and I don't have a clue. Just looking at pictures of vibrators makes my cheeks go red. So, why, you ask, am I putting myself through the embarassment of a sex toy party? Well... two reasons actually.

1. Brian asked me to go. Brian is my best friend, and is going through a hard time right now, and I would do pretty much anything for him.
2. I'm actually kind of curious about the whole thing.

So there you have it.

And now, if you'll excuse me... I have some cleaning to do. Yay.

Have a good day

My best friend Brian and I have come to a scary conclusion: When he's happy and lucky in love, I am not. And when I'm having a great day, he tends to be having a horrible one.

This can change on a day-to-day basis, but it's a fairly reliable system. For instance, Saturday, I was feeling down-in-the-dumps, and spent most of the day feeling sorry for myself. But Brian? He was on cloud 9, enjoying family time and just having a lovely day. Sunday, though, the tables turned, and while I had a great time with the kids, Brian was depressed.

So this morning, we talked on our way to work and school, and our conversation ended like this:

Brian: Well, I'm almost as school so I'm gonna go call M at work...
Me: Ok... good luck.
Brian: Yeah. Thanks. Have a good day.
Me: You too.
Brian: (with a not-so-happy sounding laugh) Ok. And if I start having a better day, I'll call to make sure you're ok.

Oy. One of these days, we're BOTH going to be happy. At the same time! For now though, maybe it needs to be this way so the cheerful person can cheer the sad one up.