When you are writing, it kind of eats up your brain, so you get 25% processing power for everything else. Quotes from this week for your laughing pressure.
Me: I need lamps.
Gordon: Yes?
Me: Lamps! For pantry.
Gordon: …
Me: It’s not working.
Gordon: Do you mean fluorescent bulbs?
Me: Yes! The light is barely working in there because the bulbs are burned out.
#
Gordon: This fucking sucks. No. ::puts hand over face:: No, I can’t.
Me: We will put it back once we fix it.
Gordon: I know and it will be better. I don’t have to like it.
::deletes 3,000 words:::
#
Me: Look, no oil.
C, Kid 1’s boyfriend: Nod.
Gordon, coming to the table.
Me: No oil.
Gordon, who is used to random things said at him by now: Nod.
Kid 1 comes to the table.
Me: The new Le Creuset pan is amazing. I made three omelets without oil and they all slid off the pan beautifully.
Kid 1: That’s nice, Mom.
#
Gordon: Did you know that those sunken living rooms in 70’s that everyone is trying to redo now? They were called conversation pits.
Me: What? Do they like throw you into the pit and only one person comes out?
Gordon: Probably. Also, what was the prize for winning? Groovy fondue?
Okay those of you who were alive in the 70’s, what was up with conversation pits? Like how was this tripping hazard and dirt collecting area sold as the coolest design element ever?
Weird sunken things in general: sunken floors, sunken tubs (what idiot came up with that), sunken atriums, sunken bars….
I was born in the seventies but I remember those things very well from homes I went to.
“Conversation pit”
translated into my 4-year-old’s mind: the floor is lava game just became epic…
translated into my mind: need a housekeeper…
Well, as I remember…no wait, I don’t remember much of the late 70s. Wait, yes, I think they were convenient for stoned/drunk guests because when they fell on their faces, the hosts could contain them in one place. And, when you couldn’t reach the tables, you could just reach behind and leave your glass and plate behind you on the floor!
Probably a result of meditation and enlightenment of Maharishi Mahesh Yogi becoming fashionable through groups like the Beatles. More pillows and informal lounging
The closest to one of these that I’ve ever read about in a book and wished I had was in a Heinlein book; the conversation pit had actual grass growing instead of carpet. 😀
Otrokari architects?
My best friend had one – 1975. All the kids loved it because we were all cozy and smooshed together. 🙂 MY mom loved old houses – like Civil War old – Inman Park in Atlanta – and old, stiff furniture. Nobody but my best friend wanted to hang out at my house – and I bribed her with food and sneaking out my window at night to walk to the Ihop.
Thanks for that!
Me: Open the … you know.
Hubby: The what?
Me: It’s tall and has a handle…
Hubby: cupboard?
Me: NO! You walk through…
Hubby: It’s called a door.
#
Me: It hurts.
Friend: What does?
Me: The bendy thing…
Friend: …
Me: You know…
Friend: I really don’t.
Me: Yes you do… it’s the genu of the leg.
Friend: You can say “genu of the leg” but you can’t remember the word “knee”?
#
Me: Let’s eat at that place…
Friend 1: …
Me: You know the one…
Friend 1: … (this friend knows me well enough to avoid guessing)
Me: You know… “Eating Crow”
Friend 1: Do you mean “Humble Pie”?
Me: That’s what I said
Friend 1: Why can’t you get that one right? How does “Eating Crow” equal “Humble Pie”? You always call that place the wrong thing, and it makes no sense!
Older Friend: In our generation, the terms were synonymous.
Friend 1: Really?
Older Friend: Yeah. Can’t believe you’ve never heard of eating crow (vs eating humble pie)
#
When I was in college, everyone wanted to borrow my notes. I had a 4.0 GPA, and my friends believed in their hearts (and minds, of course) that my notes were the reason. All they would need to march their way to grandeur during the notes of “Pomp and Circumstance” would be my notes…. I warned them. Then they would try to read my notes, a combination of English, Spanish, French, Greek letters, math symbols, and my own shorthand for certain words, and I would get an outraged “are your deliberately trying to make sure no one can read your notes???” No… I am a mathematician at heart. I don’t think in words, I think in abstracts. When I reach for words, I take whatever I can get on the fly… like genu of the leg.
This entry had me giggling quietly (my husband is trying to sleep). And yes, I was alive in the 70s,,, and no, I never understood the conversation pits (though we usually called them sunken living rooms as well). Toddlers were always falling into them and crying. Some people would erect little iron fences on one or two sides, where people might be racing around a corner… that’s much safer! I nearly broke the genu of my leg on one of those iron fences! WHAT is an iron fence doing in someone’s living room???!!!???
Blame TV and the Rat Pack who didn’t have to clean anything!
Impractical but I do like that sunken floor look. However I have balance problems and would break something on those stairs
The chat pit…only one gets out!