Monday, November 21, 2005

Coffee splat


You know it's true love between you and your partner when even the dregs of your freshly brewed cuppa spell out "I love you."

So for you, my love, I have written this poem...

Disgusting is our grout
Of that there is no doubt,
But the precious coffee drops
On our counter tops
Reveal your love for me
For you can plainly see
The coffee splat that fell
In the shape of a heart.

You know you've matured when...

  • Your hour-long lunch is spent at Target buying diapers
  • You can fill your candy jar at work and it manages to stay at least half-full until the following day
  • You've learned proper professional decorum and are not screaming "GoddamFUCK!" at the computer monitor (much like some people I work with)
  • You find yourself on online gardening forums asking if the juniper berries you put in the turkey herb rub are poisonous (to PREVENT your Thanksgiving Day guests from experiencing hallucinations rather than PROVIDING them with the experience)
  • You check the dollar bins for anything that could be considered an anything-but-tacky gift
  • You find yourself looking up "long lost" friends that span more than one, two, or even THREE decades (!!)
  • You call your child's daycare compulsively asking how his day is going and if he's gone "vampyr" on anyone yet
  • You become distracted by any of the following: child-rearing websites, CNN.com, or direct mail marketing offering a 20% discount if you shop from 10 - 3 ONLY! on Thursday.
  • You offer to host Thanksgiving

Friday, November 18, 2005

Get out of my Mercury House!

What is it about those days where everything is disorganized, people are grumpy, no one understands a word you say, and you just can't seem to do right? And for no particular reason either, except that the moon is full. Well they may not ADMIT this is the reason for their edginess, but it is. We all know it.

Those are the days when planetary alignment and gravitational pull of the moon and sun are in such accordance that spontaneously, child-bearing unpregnant women all across the globe purge themselves in unison, while members of the opposite gender become increasingly self-absorbed, introverted, and convinced that someone somewhere has wronged them. Then you realize how the legend of the werewolf got started. It makes perfect sense! Well, when you're soaking in it, it does.

These are the days that the air is edgy and you're just WAITING for a bomb to drop somewhere. Your car is about to die. You forgot a mortgage payment. Or you missed a deadline at work. Days like that make you thankful for every other day of your life and all those good ones yet to come.

And when the fog lifts, you realize that it none of those things happen. Your car is fine. You already made your mortgage payment. And the deadline you thought you had was completed 4 weeks ago.

It's been a week like that. Thank SHIVA it's over! Look yon, brighter days ahead!

Just call me a lemming.

A lemming, that's what I am. Along for the ride in this crazy, mixed up cyberworld. A voice into the abyss. But sometimes that's just what we need, isn't it? To scream and not be heard. To contribute to the choir of opinionation (I made that word up, cool huh?), and at the end of the day, you're not taken seriously, not heard, but DAMN you feel good!

So that's why I'm here. To hear myself not be heard. To cleanse my mind and practice online yoga because I know it's good for the soul. And you?