Mood: Pissy as hell. Daddy G and I just had an hour long argument about boundaries that didn't clear up anything. But this is not a ranting blog - so don't leave. Please? Just think of the children. Or don't, that tends to ruin the mood. Ahem.
Listening to: I See You Everywhere - Chris Isaak I have been loving me some Chris Isaak lately, but seriously honey, it's called stalking. Or hallucinations, which are much more fun.
So. I almost begged out of blogging this evening, in spite of my promise to a certain chivalrous blogger with a great accent, because of said ridiculousness with Daddy G. I figured that since the man is passed out at 10:30 from a happy hour at the pub for work, I may as well do something to boost my mood. I have my ipod cranked (well, as cranked as my acer will get, which to be honest, is pretty sad) and am getting my write on, both of which tend to turn me back into little miss Sunshine. Only Snarkier. And much, much more inappropriate.
Speaking of which, this just in - Daddy G is discovering the fact that I have the utmost absolutely inappropriate sense of humor ever. I'm not sure how it took the man 10 years to figure this out, but I swear I've been like this since I was little. Last weekend, I had to walk into another room at Daddy G's bosses dinner party to avoid making a dead baby/penis quality joke. I just couldn't hold it in and Daddy G would have divorced me, I'm pretty sure of it. People, the joke was just that good. Unfortunately, it was more of a you had to be there joke, or I definitely would have shared it. After all, I shared the Swedish joke with you.
So General knowledge you can add to your brain about Becky G - inappropriate sense of humor and inappropriate obsession with Guns and Roses.
Speaking of said obsession - I saw Guns and Roses last weekend. Wait, did I scream that? No? Let's try again. I SAW FUCKIN GUNS AND ROSES! Yep, my absolute favorite hard rockers ever landed up in Bangalore and gave an amazing show. Axl has gotten his shit together and the rest of the band was outstanding too - the show was amazing. The stunning thing about it was that it was a standing room only venue and we were 10 feet from the stage. 10 feet. Were it not for the beefy Indian security guards that let's face it, I spent plenty of time ogling before the show, I probably would have had to launch myself onto the stage at Axl. Well, maybe not launched, but crab scrambled up there or some crazy shit - I'm not in the shape I used to be. Cause you know, at 31 I'm getting up there in years. Ha. I'm just kidding. I fully intend to live to about 120. I'll be that crazy old lady that just won't die and doesn't know how to dress. That's right people. I will have those GNR tees on until they bury me in one. Ahem. The only downside was that I was surrounded by WAY too many sweaty Indian guys (no hot ones unfortunately) with no concept of personal space and that Cheech and Chong standing in front of us wouldn't share. Not cool Puff the Magic Dragon - pass it along! Random guy sweat may be the grossest thing on earth for me. Ew. Unless the guy is really, really hot.....yeah, still ew.
I held a piano recital you guys. Like a real honest to goodness shindig with about 30 people and food in my apartment. I think I'm looking like an actual teacher and all that now. Crazy. I teach 15 students plus my own kids. Right now, I'm looking to actually expand and hire another teacher. Crazy how this project is coming together.
I survived my daughters' joint birthday party with all limbs and sanity intact. I think.
Daddy G, the girls and I are headed down to Kerala to see some of what there is to be seen. I am SO stoked for a vacation. I could really use a break. Because it runs in my genes, there will be pictures. Lots and lots o pictures. They'll be up on Following the Masala at some point in time in the next 2 weeks.
I'm going to stop here because apparently once you tap my brain after a long writing absence it generally spews nonsense here there and everywhere until heads start exploding. We wouldn't want that, now would we??
Becky
Seriously. Guns and Motherfucking Roses, people.
Listening to: I See You Everywhere - Chris Isaak I have been loving me some Chris Isaak lately, but seriously honey, it's called stalking. Or hallucinations, which are much more fun.
So. I almost begged out of blogging this evening, in spite of my promise to a certain chivalrous blogger with a great accent, because of said ridiculousness with Daddy G. I figured that since the man is passed out at 10:30 from a happy hour at the pub for work, I may as well do something to boost my mood. I have my ipod cranked (well, as cranked as my acer will get, which to be honest, is pretty sad) and am getting my write on, both of which tend to turn me back into little miss Sunshine. Only Snarkier. And much, much more inappropriate.
Speaking of which, this just in - Daddy G is discovering the fact that I have the utmost absolutely inappropriate sense of humor ever. I'm not sure how it took the man 10 years to figure this out, but I swear I've been like this since I was little. Last weekend, I had to walk into another room at Daddy G's bosses dinner party to avoid making a dead baby/penis quality joke. I just couldn't hold it in and Daddy G would have divorced me, I'm pretty sure of it. People, the joke was just that good. Unfortunately, it was more of a you had to be there joke, or I definitely would have shared it. After all, I shared the Swedish joke with you.
So General knowledge you can add to your brain about Becky G - inappropriate sense of humor and inappropriate obsession with Guns and Roses.
Speaking of said obsession - I saw Guns and Roses last weekend. Wait, did I scream that? No? Let's try again. I SAW FUCKIN GUNS AND ROSES! Yep, my absolute favorite hard rockers ever landed up in Bangalore and gave an amazing show. Axl has gotten his shit together and the rest of the band was outstanding too - the show was amazing. The stunning thing about it was that it was a standing room only venue and we were 10 feet from the stage. 10 feet. Were it not for the beefy Indian security guards that let's face it, I spent plenty of time ogling before the show, I probably would have had to launch myself onto the stage at Axl. Well, maybe not launched, but crab scrambled up there or some crazy shit - I'm not in the shape I used to be. Cause you know, at 31 I'm getting up there in years. Ha. I'm just kidding. I fully intend to live to about 120. I'll be that crazy old lady that just won't die and doesn't know how to dress. That's right people. I will have those GNR tees on until they bury me in one. Ahem. The only downside was that I was surrounded by WAY too many sweaty Indian guys (no hot ones unfortunately) with no concept of personal space and that Cheech and Chong standing in front of us wouldn't share. Not cool Puff the Magic Dragon - pass it along! Random guy sweat may be the grossest thing on earth for me. Ew. Unless the guy is really, really hot.....yeah, still ew.
I held a piano recital you guys. Like a real honest to goodness shindig with about 30 people and food in my apartment. I think I'm looking like an actual teacher and all that now. Crazy. I teach 15 students plus my own kids. Right now, I'm looking to actually expand and hire another teacher. Crazy how this project is coming together.
I survived my daughters' joint birthday party with all limbs and sanity intact. I think.
Daddy G, the girls and I are headed down to Kerala to see some of what there is to be seen. I am SO stoked for a vacation. I could really use a break. Because it runs in my genes, there will be pictures. Lots and lots o pictures. They'll be up on Following the Masala at some point in time in the next 2 weeks.
I'm going to stop here because apparently once you tap my brain after a long writing absence it generally spews nonsense here there and everywhere until heads start exploding. We wouldn't want that, now would we??
Becky
Seriously. Guns and Motherfucking Roses, people.
