My Favorite Food

Reason #1 for Why I Can't Ever Become Vegetarian. Though, I seriously could become a vegetarian who eats only cow and pig. That I could totally do.

Your Mother (Innocence & Experience)

The Internet is the destroyer of innocence. (You heard it here first, folks.) Destroyer of Innocence.

My husband was raised as a NO TV, ultra-conservative, hardcore homeschooler. (I was homeschooled, too, but we watched Star Trek, MacGyver, and the A-Team, so I'm slightly less sheltered.)

After we'd been married for about a year, my innocent husband played this innocent game online and he learned – dare I say it? – the Your Mom joke. I remember the day it happened.

Player 1: “Ur a n00b.”

Player 2: “That's not what your mom said last night.”

And that was it. From then on Your Mom was included in every dinner conversation. Shortly thereafter it progressed and my dear, sweet, wholesome husband became captain of the That's What She Said team.

(It must be said that I am not a complete bystander in this. I enjoy participating in the Your Mom jokes and am very quick to instruct my husband regarding when Your Sister is much more effective than Your Mom.)

Last night, after several rounds of Your Mom's, we reached this point at the dinner table:

Me: “That's not what your mom said last night.” (we laugh) “You know, I never realized your mom was such a whore.”

My Mister: “A what?”

Me: “A whore. W-h-o-r-e. One who makes sex for money.”

My Mister: “Oh, well at least she makes some money with it. Your mom does it for free.”

See what I'm talking about? Innocence destroyed! So, guard your children.

Of course the “Your Mom” in these conversations is always hypothetical since actually suggesting such things about your Mother-In-Law doesn't lead to marital longevity.

Two Ducks On A Pond

Bob & George.

George the duck dived and swam, kicking his webbed feet in the water happily.

"Nothing could be better than this," George quacked loudly while flitting about. "Today is the best day!"

Bob slowly drifted across the water.

"Really, George? I'm barely staying afloat. It was all I could do to get out of the nest this morning."

"Are you kidding? I can't swim through this water fast enough. Let's sing duck songs! And organize the sticks in the dam according to size!"

No duck is that happy at this time of day.

Bob knew the truth: George was on drugs.

* * *

The above is a short example of the sorts of things I feel like writing these days. Usually, it's a tragic-comedy of some sort because after a long, ridiculous day that's what comes out.

Musings Related to Writing

Sewer kitties say, "I KILL U WIF LAZUR EYES."

There are the stories I want to write -- and then there are the stories I "should" write.

I have so little creative energy these days that the only stories I want to write are silly, little short stories about animals. The stories aren't truly suitable for children, but don't exactly seem to be a great fit for adults either. These are the only stories in my "creative bucket" (as I like to call it) right now.

Long term, I would like to be able to sell some of my work. I don't see these little pseudo-children's stories as being a marketable product. What is a marketable product? A full-length novel. I "should" write novels (because that is my long-term desire which happens to be a marketable product) but I haven't had a workable idea for a full-length novel in over a year. Maybe two years. Since I transferred to a university and began full-time studies again I feel like my soul is gone.

There are seasons in life, and I hope this season is nearly done. I am scheduled to graduate in the spring so I look forward to being "done" with school. And yet, I recognize that each season in life has its own difficulties. Graduation from college won't necessarily guarantee my "creative bucket" will begin filling again.

Until then, I will continue writing stories about farm animals with complex life problems.

Lunch Adventures

I make my husband's lunch every day and send him off to work with a grocery bag full of snacks, leftovers, and a drink. He comes home and thanks me for the lunch, often telling a story about about how excited he was for whatever “surprise” was in his lunch bag. Sometimes, I tease him a little by asking what I made him for lunch. I had no idea where this little tease would lead!

“Baby, the lunch you made me today was so good!” said my sweet husband.

“Really? Yay! What did I make you?”

“You made me a sandwich and it was so good I couldn't believe it!”

“. . . . I didn't make you a sandwich.”

“Yeah, you did!”

“No, I made you spaghetti.”

“No, it was a bologna sandwich!”

“Baby, I don't buy bologna. I think you ate someone else's lunch!”

“Well, I don't know what kind of meat it was, but it definitely was my lunch! It was in a grocery bag with that special trail mix you made for me.”

“Oh. Well, I guess it was your lunch, but I can't even remember when the last time I made you a sandwich for lunch. I think that was, like, 3 weeks old.”

“Well, it still tasted good! In fact, it was the best sandwich ever!”

“... ”

Thus began the epic tale of the lunch of indeterminate age.

* * *

I've been looking for a way to tell day-to-day stories that don't quite fit in Twitter, so I may post more stories like this in the future. I'm finding it difficult to write fiction these days, so please accept some reality instead!

Diagnosis: Procrastination; Prognosis: Fatal

Things I want to do:

Make something fattening (like this http://www.lynnskitchenadventures.com/2009/12/easy-peanut-butter-cups.html)

Hot glue something (like this http://eyespydiy.blogspot.com/2011/01/magazine-bowl-tutorial.html)

Paint my Living Room

Pay the bills

Vacuum under the furniture

Clean the toilets

Clean the lint trap in the dryer

Things I don't want to do:

Write my Whitman paper

You won't be jolly after eating a Jolly Roger

High quality art. I do work on commission. Call me!

Jolly Rogers are at best unoriginal – at worst debilitating. "Bursting with Bold Fruit Flavor"? More like bursting with evil. Accidentally bite down on a Jolly Roger and in return it will viciously, violently, voraciously rip your fillings from their comfortable, happy home in your mouth. This one tiny candy will make you choke down bits of dental-grade porcelain, sending you to painful hours in the dentist's chair. Enjoy Sour Apple? Enjoy these sour grapes: The tart acids and sugar will corrode your defenseless, wholesome tooth enamel like battery acid. At 17 calories each, Jolly Rogers might seem like a prudent indulgence, but you are deceived. Jolly Rogers are miscreants – a counterculture confection masquerading as a harmless hard candy while waiting to drag you behind the bushes and ravish your teeth. Don't be fooled. Eat [marshmallows] and keep your teeth.

* * *

Names were changed to protect the innocent. (Innocent = me! Don't sue me, bro.) This is another short writing piece from a rhetoric class. The assignment was to use only 150 words to write an Invective warning about the evil nature of a specific candy. We had to use various rhetorical schemes and tropes. I love Jolly Rogers, but I had to take a shot at somebody. The "evil" of Jolly Rogers was so prevalent in my parents' circles that even those of us who did not have fillings were not allowed to eat Jolly Rogers for fear of our teeth accidentally being pulled out from the roots or some such silliness. Or at least, that's what my 5 year old mind chose to remember. :)

Extra credit super bonus points and bragging rights to anyone who names the rhetorical schemes and tropes!