normalcy is overrated

have you ever thought you had normal conversations and then realized that...well, you just don't. i thought i'd share some of the random convo's between my mother & i for the enjoyment of all.....

me: did you drug up tess (our dog) again or is she just tired?
mom: she's tired cuz she kept going back and forth between us and your dad & dan. what can i say, she's likes her men.
me: dirty skank.
mom: she is.

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me: one of my friends is taking an embryology class & they are going to go look at cadaver's right? but not the whole cadaver, just the reproductive organs. that's weird, isnt it? i mean, what are they going to do, just have a penis in a jar? just floating around?
mom: now you are totally going to have dreams of floating penis'
me: what, like i'm just chilling and talking to someone in my dream & a penis just floats by?
mom: yeah.
....
me: i hope you have lots of dreams about floating penis' (as i am leaving the room to head off to bed)
mom: do you even want me to go there? so many things i can say.
....
me: it can be like the new miriska hargitay greeting from 'the love guru'
mom: may you have dreams of floating penis' (bowing down)
me: may you have dreams of floating penis' too (bowing)

cognitive disonance

so i'm getting really into fashion lately. i'm buying/wearing things that i told myself i never would. i finally gave in & got skinny jeans & footless tights and have started wearing uggs with skirts and over jeans....typical trendy stuff. which in and of itself is no big deal, right? (though my friends tease me and say i'm like a highschooler). but somehow i feel like i am betraying myself. here i am, miss social justice, wants to live in the ghetto, hippie and i am literally sitting in class doodling different outfits i can put together, or trying to come up with new styles. who is this person? what happened to the girl that only showered every 3 days and wore tried to wear sweats to class. my college roomate says that it is because i am back in california....as if there is some sort of magic fashion bug you get whenever you cross over the state line. my sister is the real fashionista in the family. i've decided that maybe i can live out my passions & still live vicariously through my sister....espeically if she goes to fashion school, i am so mooching off her sewing skills. hmmm....is there something inherently wrong with wearing custom-made couture clothing while living in the ghetto?