Reincarnation

I did a double take on Friday, when I looked at the first picture of me I posted, and got this idea.
Okay, so who's the reincarnation of Anne Boleyn NOW?


I'm just saying, it's a little uncanny, and unlike other Anne Boleyns, I don't have an Irish brogue! (All right - I admit - I paraphrased that last bit from Mel Brooks' "Robin Hood, Men in Tights". What can I say - I love that man!)

Does anyone else think they resemble a celebrity? I'm suddenly reminded of a post theme Bea and I discussed recently...
Any thoughts, Bea?

Photograph of Anne Boleyn, by Hans Holbein. Provided by tudorhistory.org/boleyn/

A Smudge of Embarrassment on Your Collar

I was at the grocery store the other day, without the kids, meandering the aisles. I stopped in the medicine aisle to buy some ibuprofen. Next to me was this guy, your average joe, looking for something. He started in the pain relievers and wandered down the aisle, looking lost, as I got my drugs and went to check out.

I didn't think much of him until I noticed him checking out next to me. He scanned something that evidently didn't have a bar code, because the uppity You-Scan computer informed him and the world that a cashier was needed, STAT. I glanced at what he was buying - it was four; count em -4 boxes of Midol.

I couldn't help it - I laughed out loud.

I said to him: "It's bad enough that you get sent to buy this stuff, but then the register won't ring it up and has to announce storewide that you need help. Buddy, you are in Man Hell!"

Evidently it was funnier to me, but then, I'm not the guy buying Midol.

The Writing's On The Wall

Or rather, on the page. The REAL page.
I'm breaking with my own non-conformist ways to go with the crowd on the handwriting post. I know, it's so unlike me, but I really thought it was clever, kind of cool, and hard to resist.
I saw this first at:
Chani's

Flutter's

Jennifer's

Brian's
And now you get to see what the handwriting of a lunatic - pardon - eccentrically creative individual looks like. It might be easier to read some of the others!

See now, that was on lined graph paper - anybody can stay fairly even and nice looking. But here you have the chicken scratchings I do when I'm on a roll and writing at a more normal pace. It's hard for even me to read! (Addendum: I just noticed that you can see the picture I was doodling on the back of this page. I think there's a calendar on there too. what can I say - I think this was written in carpoop, which is V boring! But it's kind of trippy to look at up close. Go ahead - you know you want to!)
It's sad, isn't it? That such a sweet little child could grow up to have the handwriting of a killer. Or maybe a doctor? Or maybe, just plain ole scribbling?

Hmmm....what to write about when your brain is dried up pasta bowties (man I hate bowties!).

....nope. I got nothing.

I'm going to go embrace my other muse and paint today.

But I will leave you a pretty picture!

Catch ya tamari pickles!

Addendum: According to my comments today, neither my writing nor my painting are worth a damn, and scrapbooking is the real creative hobby. If I was in a better mood, this might pass as lame humour, but I spent a big chunk of my day searching for a cat who's been missing for two days, and being slapped upside my head in my blog comments really wasn't helpful. So unhelpful that now I feel even more like shit and to top it off, now I can't stop crying.

*** NEWS UPDATE ***

Bea's bed broke badly, But...
...it was the necessary impetus to get her room rearranged.
We had a lot of fun doing it,
...and it looks really cool (needs painting)!

Sunday Denial/What Are We Drinking?
will go on as scheduled, although in a different yard.
It could be ugly...

Film at 11...*

(* There's not really any film, I just like saying that. There will be pictures though.)

Excuses, Excuses

Excuse #1
Nothing like a looming holiday to kick up the volunteer schedule at school - I'm headed back again this afternoon for an Easter egg hunt/math center with the second graders, so of course, I'm NOT writing and finishing up the Rattling a Few Bones~Part VI. Its giving me a hard time anyway, but the increased demand for my volunteer services doesn't help either.

Excuse #2
I meant to write a two-part piece on our personal quest to have kids, and its gone on and on, turning into a four-parter that's already so long I feel like maybe I'm rambling. I'm deeply afraid that "this isn't writing, its typing", in the words of Truman Capote .(via Robin Williams; I'm just not "deep" enough to want to read ole Truman, so sue me.) But whatever the shoddy reason, I'm not done with it yet, and its getting out of hand long, so next week, I have to finish it and then edit the crap out of it.

Excuse #3
Are you ready for Sunday morning, and that damn rabbit, who craps jelly beans all over my windowsills, mantel, counter tops, tables, etc? Because I'm not egg-actly (HAH! I'm funny! OK, maybe not so much...sigh) ready for the big sugar fest quite yet, and with TWO DAYS !!(stifled scream) left to get ready, I'm thinking a headless chicken dance is in order. (Note- the management would like to apologize to any vegetarians who are offended by that image, and assure said vegans that no chickens will actually be decapitated; at least where they can see!) (Muhahahaha!)

BUT...in the spirit of the season, I do have a picture the kids and I made last year that really sums up our favorite aspects of the season:
I know, its corny, but the guys just giggle their heads off when we say this. Ah, simple joys!

The Blog Giveth And The Blog Taketh Its Sweet Time

What? You thought this was going to be Rattling a Few Bones~Part III?

You thought I had, all professional-like, written the entire piece and just split it up into serials, to drag it out and mess with you? Seriously? Do I look like I have my shit together enough to do that?

Pickle, its Monday here. Again. All damn day.Bea and I did our best on Sunday to weave a mist and make it Saturday again, but the spell just didn't take. Oh, wait a minute! We were supposed to POUR the libation on the ground, not DRINK it!! Ohhh! Well crap. So its Monday, but what a great Sunday afternoon it was, in spite of it NOT being Saturday again!

Are you with me so far?
It was a bit of a blustery day, on Saturday, but Bea and I, boat drinks in hand, braved the gale force winds to go out and sit in the sunshine. The warm weather this past week has brought out the wildlife, along with the first flowers.I found Mr. Rikki playing with our resident garter snake, who we like to call, rather unimaginatively, The Eighteen Incher. He was a little concerned about all the attention at first, but he did pose nicely for me. I have actually written about half of the third installment of Rattling a Few Bones, but the first part was the easiest. The climax is a bit stickier and I need to get the children out of my hair before I can think straight enough to finish writing it. That and Blogger needs to let me upload more than ONE FUCKING PICTURE AT A TIME - that would really speed things up!

So, would you say your weekend glass was half-full or half-empty? Or would you say you "half want" to take the rest of the week off? Yeah, me too, only no halfways for me - I'm 100% sick with the Spring Fever!

Ugh

I was so proud of how good Friday's post looked, and feeling like I was getting back into the groove (pause for a little funky dance step, a la Madonna, in Desperately Seeking Hooters, uh Susan - it's a long story, and I just tripped over my bathrobe. I know it's 1:30 - don't judge me, dammit!) and then my little cold revealed it's dark and chunky underbelly.

Ahh...Choo!

I have been languishing on the couch - dying, I'm sure - for most of the weekend. You would think that not only would I have been nominated for some kind of Oscar, for my interpretation of Camille or La Dame Aux Les Camellias as a modern housewife, but that I would, at the very least, be feeling better. I even got the hubster to do the housework and make dinner - now that should clinch the nomination!

Alas! I am yet upon my couch, dying slowly, as an ocean of snotuli slowly oozes from my head.

I know, I'm breaking your heart.

Wait- step back- I have to sneeze again...
Ah...
Ah...
Ah...Choo!
I'm going back to bed kids - see you tomorrow.

I was rifling through my fifty-odd million picture boxes today, and came across these two pictures. They are so similar in appearance I had to put them up together.

The first picture is me, at about two. (This is also my picture in Flickr!) The analytical fingers are my favorite part of this.

But look at this one! I think the Bohemian is also about two here, and when I saw this, I was struck by how much we look alike in these shots. People usually say he resembles the Big Gorilla Man, and a lot of the time, he does, but not in this picture! What a cutie!

I know, I know; self-indulgent piffle- here- now- in the New Year, when I should be all motivated or something.

Well, um...,I think I might be on a different calendar than the rest of the world, 'cuz I am a hibernator in the month of January. Its not that I don't do things this month, I just don't do big things this month.

This is the month I put our house back to rights, and hope for snow, so the kids and maybe HunnyBunny can all stay home together. Its becomes an impromptu, almost illegal vacation, and we hunker down, drink hot chocolate, and maybe play a few games we got over Christmas. The planning for this year's Big Things comes later; maybe February. But right now, I am SO NOT planning a blasted thing!

Just a quickie, something Ms. Q told me yesterday, as only she can:

A couple of cannibals took over a circus
and began eating the circus folk.
When they got to the clown,
the one cannibal asked the other cannibal,
"Does this taste funny to you?"

I know, its funnier when she tells it - I have the curse of killing jokes.

It reminded me of Steve Martin's joke about being funny:

People ask me, "Steve, how can you go out on stage and always be funny?"
Well I'll tell you-
Before I go out on stage every night, I put a piece of balogna in each of my shoes.
That way, I feel funny.

Yeah, don't worry, I'm not giving up my day job yet.