I just achieved the trifecta of gross coming home from work. Cold, wet, and muddy. I know the cheap snap-on fender makes it better, so, lord help me, imagine how miserable I would have been.
Nothing says WELCOME TO ANOTHER YEAR like the annual $5 in a card from my grandpa.
I keep seeing dead cats and it is not cool. Passed three by the side of the road.
When I was at home last weekend I spent an evening with two of my favorite old friends. Ok, I can be more specific than that: my two favorite old friends. And they gave me a cookie shaped like a cow and framed pictures of the three of us and we sipped martinis and they were with me when the clock struck midnight and we had someone come over and take a picture of us together. Another year older.
We talked about how we'd all started journaling by middle school. Later I looked back through the stacks of notebooks I'd filled. I was appalling. But I guess we all were when we were twelve. I think perhaps I'll go through them all and bowdlerize the evil out and digitize the rest. And then burn the notebooks.
Sometimes, no matter where and when I am, I have the thought that there is nowhere I'd rather be right then than curled up next to my mom on the couch, watching a baseball game on tv. So it's a good thing I got to this weekend. My parents suddenly have this insanely big flatscreen tv. Why? Well, because someone gave it to them. That's how my parents are! People just give them things! Maybe to the giver it's a sort of, what's the word, the things people used to buy to get them into heaven. Indulgence. If you give your pastor a flatscreen tv, you may get yourself a step closer to heaven? I wonder that sometimes.
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