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the latest
waddle: good morning, wordpress - 10:36 a.m. , 2009-07-03 elaborate murder attempt - 2:56 p.m. , 2009-07-01 building a tractor in the basement - 10:42 a.m. , 2009-06-19 ask no questions tell just a few lies - 3:17 p.m. , 2009-06-09 my long lasting flavor really lasts long - 1:10 p.m. , 2009-06-04
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I have become very interested in the sea cucumber. The sea cucumber is a very interesting animal. When you bother or annoy the sea cucumber, it regurgitates all of its internal organs and sort of throws them at you. This would be a very useful ability to have. Blah! You suck! I throw my intestines at you! Then the sea cucumber grows a new set of internal organs. So you don't have to worry about the sea cucumber. I'm not quite as stressed as an irritated sea cucumber, but I'm getting close. Work is nuts because of the upcoming holiday (publishing deadlines don't stop for holidays), and everyone is snappish and crabby and not being very festive. Myself included, of course. I am taking a largish chunk of time off, from Xmas through New Year's Day, and that can't come soon enough. I feel a bit unhinged, and I would very much like to throw my internal organs at the next person who requests something of me. Kat and I have had many discussions about mental health, and we decided that occasionally we wish we lived in Victorian times, and were upper-crusty married ladies who were considered to be "nervous." Wouldn't that be lovely? You'd get to go away to the seaside for a "rest," and maybe paint watercolors or read a little. You'd take a lot of naps and eat soothing foods. No one would be allowed to bring you any upsetting news. Of course, that would get boring eventually, and then there's the whole flipside of confinement and condescension and domestic entrapment (think The Yellow Wallpaper), but I wouldn't mind a little seaside rest every now and then. OK, so we've ascertained that I want to throw my internal organs at people and rest by the seaside. Moving on. Another good phrase from my editing life: a letter to the editor that talked about "the meat in this article's sandwich of alarm." Sandwich of alarm! ---mimi "I'll take it to go, thanks" smartypants back/forward |
