It drizzled here in Los Angeles yesterday, which in itself is enough to cause this city to be thrown into a tizzy. This morning, however, there was not a cloud to be seen. The air was cool and crisp, and all of the smog and haze had been washed away. The sun was literally sparkling through the palm tree leaves today.
As hubs was leaving to go to work this morning, he called out, “Holy shit it’s a beautiful morning!”–which I can only assume were Rodgers and Hammerstein’s alt lyrics for their hit song.
You might wonder where I’m going with this entry. Patience, grasshopper.
I have been noticing lately that whenever I catch a movie I love on TV, assuming this movie has a female starlett in it, my brain rapid fires to whether or not this starlett is fertile or not. I Google to see if they’ve had any children. This happened this weekend with Legally Blonde/Reese Witherspoon. I absolutely love that movie. She looked so adorable up on screen, and although I hate to admit it, my heart sunk with jealousy as I realized that shortly after that movie, she was able to bust out a couple of kids from that tiny adorable womb of hers. I feel like a horrible person for thinking, “Damnit! You are a millionaire actress who is gorgeous and in an amazing movie that I could watch 50 times. Can’t you just have something majorly wrong with your ovaries?”
Well–it happened again this morning. As soon as I heard Hubs say his “beautiful morning” line, I started thinking about Oklahoma!, and of course, the goddamn absolutely perfect and adorable Shirley Jones who I loved so much as a kid. She’s in her 70s now and I still want to pinch her cheeks. I Wiki-ed her ass and SURPRISE! she popped out three sons.
Again. I hate myself.
And now, for my favorite Oklahoma! song. So romantic…so perfect. I love you fertile Shirley!