Maybe you can answer a few questions for me. I can't figure these out, no matter how much I drink:
--Why do all middle-aged Asian ladies wear sweater sets to the gym? Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining--any time a person wears too much clothing instead of too little to the gym, I'm more than fine with it. There are plenty of people I wish would wear a floor-length fur coat, diving goggles, and that big red-and-white striped hat from The Cat In The Hat. But it does make me curious when I see those sweater sets. That can't be comfortable in the aerobics room, can it?
--When a good song comes on the radio, why are the least vocally talented people in the room determined to ruin it by squealing along? Just when I start to enjoy the music, the falsetto shrieks of the untalented kill the music in a vicious, unprovoked attack. Granted, some songs, like those by Britney Spears or Paula Abdul, can't be hurt even by the worst sing-alongers, because they already suck so mightily in their unmolested state, but why ruin the good stuff that comes on the radio?
--Aren't baby toys supposed to play happy, whimsical tunes? One of my daughter's crib toys--I can't be sure, but I think it's playing "Suicide Is Painless," which sounded appropriate enough as the theme song to M*A*S*H, but somewhat creepy when coming from my daughter's bed. Still, it entertains her, so I have no problem with it, at least until I find her in there building a homemade gin still or trying to perform a tracheotomy on her brother.
--Why does it seem to me like such an insurmountable task to buy pillows for our bed? I've been trying for about 6 years--no lie--to replace our floppy, sad pillows, but can't seem to commit to any of the pillows I see in the store. Time and time again I shop for pillows, pick them up, fluff them, squeeze them, imagine sleeping on them--and then put them back on the shelf. Would one of you please put me out of this misery and just go out and buy me some decent bed pillows? Just send me the bill. Otherwise I may die in 50 or so years with my elderly head resting on these same ratty-ass pillows.