But the Belle Meade Country Club, famous for having one black member who lives in Georgia and women members who are relegated to non-voting status (voting hurts our girl-brains!), is now in the news for bigotry toward Australians.
I don’t even know what to say. It’s not that Americans don’t have stereotypical beliefs about Australians, but it mostly has to do with how we imagine that you’re better looking and more rugged than we are. And that you live near hobbits. I guess that could be spun into “unrefined,” but trust me, no one in Tennessee has room to be hectoring anyone else about being unrefined. Please.
Anyway, Australians, you’re in good company with African-Americans and women. Welcome to the non-club, so to speak.
1. To me, it doesn’t sound like Carrie Underwood is mixed in well. Like there’s Brad and the instruments all in one room and there’s Carrie, outside, screaming “Remind Me.” It just sounds weird to me. I know most duets aren’t recorded at the same time, but it’s normally not so obvious.
2. For the longest time, I thought they were supposed to be on a beach and it annoyed me that Underwood didn’t sink into the sand in those shoes.
3. How did they even end up here with a guitar and high heels? Believe me, unless Underwood was transported by aliens, she did not walk all that way in those shoes.
4. It annoys me that “sexy” for Brad Paisley is cowboy boots, jeans, and a black t-shirt, but for Carrie Underwood it’s “I was just having lunch in Miama with J-Lo when I was suddenly transported to this desolate salt flat.” I mean, obviously Underwood would also look sexy in cowboy boots, jeans, and a black t-shirt.
5. My god, who wears jeans and a black t-shirt to the desert?
6. What is his guitar even plugged into?!
I do think Paisley’s aging nicely, though, even if the jeans are a little too fake worn for me to take seriously.
Day three of the migraine. It’s very, very low level pain. Saturday was bad, but it cleared right up with just acetaminophen. But the foggy not-quite-myself feeling lingers. Saturday, I couldn’t remember my zip code nor come up consistently with the names of women I’ve known for years.
Yesterday, I was just tired and groggy and my park review is all fucked up and I am 90% sure it’s not my fault, but 10% can’t be sure because I’m stuck in this fucking migraine nonsense.
And today there’s the headache, so very mild I almost wouldn’t notice it, except that I’m worried how my reality is going to warp today.
I wonder if a pain-killer designed specifically for migraines can clear up this crap.
I’ve never taken one, because regular pain killers work for me (thank goodness and knock on wood) and I guess I just assumed it was a marketing gimmick–same formula, different price.
But I’m getting desperate.