I’m in a giggly mood.
I get in those, especially when tired. In my masters program, I had to step out of the room more than once to get the giggles under control.
Today I’m giggling at myself over two things.
Last night I was lying in bed in complete silence, willing myself to stay in one spot. I’ve been having trouble falling asleep lately, so my strategy was to lay still with my eyes closed. (It’s a brilliant strategy.) My mind was wandering, as it often does, and I was thinking about Regis Philbin. (Yes.)
In particular, I was thinking of this episode of Regis and Kelly when during their early casual conversation Regis mentioned that one of his strategies to stay fit is to ask for a box with the meal when dining out. Before he would eat any of it, he’d put half of the meal in the box for later. I was thinking about this last night and becoming enraged.
Okay, Regis, maybe the reason you can eat only half of your meal is because you’re a miniature-sized person?
Do I want to take health tips from the Daniel Radcliffe’s of the world? No. No, I do not!
You don’t know about my body, Regis. How dare you try to tell my how I should eat on those special nights when I go to a restaurant!
This is when I started giggling. Regis Philbin. Regis Philbin has been retired from Live! for almost five years. This was a comment he made once, and I’m guessing it was close to ten years ago.
Yesterday wasn’t a great day. It was a little low. I had a headache. I hadn’t slept well the past few nights.
But just when I thought that this is the new normal, this sort of low, sour, frustrated mood, I get mad over Regis Philbin.
And then alone in the dark, I shake and laugh until I’m crying because life has returned. Laughter is back, and I have Regis Philbin to thank for that.
Two (because I promised two giggly things):
The Property Brothers are appearing at Bookfest this year. (I went two years ago, and it was incredible.) Jill mentioned the Property Brothers the other day when she was watching House Hunters, and I was the epitome of class when I didn’t say a word about them. This time, in our group text with Katie, she mentioned they’d be coming to Bookfest. I went on a rampage that was a very truncated version of this:
I hate Property Brothers. I’m not sure why. They rub me the wrong way. They’re like the HGTV version of the Kardashians without the intriguing family dynamics.
I don’t like that they’re so schmoozy.
I don’t like that one has a beard in an effort to distinguish himself. You’re not fooling us. We know you’re twins, and we still can’t tell you apart, okay?
I don’t like that they’ve written a book because it seems like a money grab. They’re sooooo into fame.
I don’t like that one of them is in a made-for-TV Christmas movie. Can’t I have anything that’s my own?!
I hate that they go over budget every time!! Like, these are supposed to be experts in their field. They usher in the trusting buyer. It’ll be great, they say. We’ll fix it up for this price, they say. Buy it, they say.
“There’s unexpected mold.” “Uh, these pipes just won’t work anymore.” “You know what, all the wood in your house needs to be replaced. Let’s just go ahead and burn this place to the ground and start over.”
Hate these guys.
Then I realized how ridiculous this hatred is. I really dislike them because they go over budget on a TV show?? Really??
Cue the giggles. Cue the life-giving power of laughter.
I figuratively put my feelings about the Property Brothers in a bubble and watched it float away.
Just kidding. I still irrationally dislike them, but at least I’m able to laugh about it, right?