Six Word Memoirs

I have this book from the library (see 2 ago previous entry) called "Not Quite What I Was Planning: Six-Word Memoirs By Famous and Obscure". They are wickedly awesome and surprisingly diverse. Some of the ones I really, really like are below. Some I like for their pithiness, some for their closeness to my own experiences, and some are just funny.

A sake mom, not soccer mom.

Tombstone won't say "Had health insurance".

Wasted time regressed so changed life.

Catholic school backfired! Sin is in.

Made a mess. Cleaned it up.

Bad brakes discovered at high speed. <-- I think this is me

I was born. Some assembly required.

I'm enjoying even this downward dance.

I recognize red flags faster now.

Macular degeneration. Didn't see that coming.

No words can describe my life.

Red diaper baby, hippie bourgeoise adult <-- I wrote my overcoming upbringing one before I read this one

Girlfriend is pregnant my husband said.

I was and now I'm not.

In a Manolo world I'm Keds.

I'm just here for the beer!

I've been thinking of my six word memoir candidates. So far I have:

Crazy. Worth effort to be with. 

One mom. One boy. Happiness found.

Had career, lost it, was happier.

Free spirit overcame straightlaced conservative upbringing

And Offspring came up with this one, which is the title of this blog:

It wasn't funny ... at the time.

And also:

If it's fun, don't do it.

What is/are yours?

Wee wee wee bee bee bee music

Did you know that there is an XM/Sirius station that is only Elvis songs (note: also sung by Elvis, no covers). Well, there is. There is also a station that is only Jimmy Buffet (note: no covers either). These are the only two stations my dad ever listens to. EVER! For real, I'm not joking. The only station my mom listens to is the sixties channel. EVER!  OK, sometimes she listens to 40s ands sometimes to 50s and gasps, sometimes to Faux News.  Jesus H. Christ, help me.  

Even Offspring is uber sick of sixties though, he exasperately asked me awhile back "Mom, why does grandma always listen to the "wee-wee-wee-bee-bee-bee" station? (think chipmunk voice). I said it was because she grew up listening to that music and she still liked it. He asked if I grew up listening to 60s, and I said no. He asked what I grew up listening to and I said the 80s. He said "But mom, you so totally don't listen to the 80s! Why is grandma stuck in the past?! Geeesh. That crap gets on my very last nerve. The apple doesn't fall from the tree eh - in both the manner of speaking and our mutual annoyance of listening to the 60s ad infinitum.

So my parents and I (sans Offspring) were driving to go out for dinner last night and as always, the car was tuned to the sixties channel. I asked if we could puuhhhhhleaze turn the station to something in, say, this century. Much to my shock, my dad agreed, and switched it to a top 40 station (I had to tell him which one though, as 18, 56, 6 and Faux News are all that he knows). Turning it to the station I requested, an Eminem song that I absolutely love was on - that one with Rhianna, I Love the Way You Lie. I love that song, and I said as much, that its on my ipod.  Befoere I had to fully process that hmm, maybe this wasn't the best song to have playing just now, here is where the song picked up, with the lyrics bangin' slammin' loud (cuz my dad is partially deaf, he can't hear unless it is TURNED UP TOO LOUD FOR EVERYONE ELSE):

Baby it was me

Maybe our relationship

Isn't as crazy as it seems

Maybe that's what happens

When a tornado meets a volcano

All I know is

I love you too much

To walk away though

Come inside

Pick up your bags off the sidewalk

Don't you hear sincerity

In my voice when I talk

Told you this is my fault

Look me in the eyeball

Next time I'm pissed

I'll aim my fist

At the dry wall

Next time

There will be no next time

I apologize

Even though I know it's lies

I'm tired of the games

I just want her back

I know I'm a liar

If she ever tries to fucking leave again

I'mma tie her to the bed

And set the house on fire

Needless to say, I'll never hear anything but wee-wee-wee-bee-bee-bee ever again in the car. Sigh.