This one’s for Tom who maintains the best astronomy blog this side of the universe. Sorry about the cat hair on my shirt, you wanna hang with me you gotta put up with a little kitty fur. 
(In regards to the shirt’s tag line: No I don’t, but today I’m trying to convince myself I do…)
So, remember that time in May when I went with my husband and his company to Cirque du Soleil in Montréal and we saw the Trading Spaces caravan in Vieux Montréal?
I found the map at Lisa’s site, although she didn’t link back to where she got it from. That doesn’t ever stop me, I’m a Google freak, so I found the map by googling for keywords map of places i have been and it was the first hit on the page. Yay, me! Anyway, the map comes from Douwe Osinga’s site. Pretty neat!
Thanks to Lisa, I can now continue to fantasize that I am hanging out with Amy Sedaris by reading her interview about her imaginary boyfriend Ricky over and over and over and over and over and over again. Whee!
Thanks, Jürgen’s mama, for pointing out TJ’s book aid blogathon.
Everybody else – you got a buck? Give it to Book Aid International!
[Send your open letters to openletters@mcsweeneys.net.] - – - - TO THE COUPLE WHO FOUND MY PANTIES IN THEIR YARD LAST SUMMER. May 19, 2005
Dear Couple, Sorry about that. I was drunk, not that I think that makes it OK or anything. I did think I would grab the panties as I left, rather than leave them under the tree like that. I hope you can understand that we were in a hurry, having only the amount of time one would reasonably assume it would take us to go around the block on a bicycle. I guess that would be about 10 minutes, which really isn’t enough time at all, even when you skip the kissing, which we did. Anyway, people were waiting for us, and for the bike, so there wasn’t time for cleaning things up afterward. Also, even if I’d found the underwear in the dark (and I would have liked to, because they fit well and didn’t dig into my fleshy parts, making me feel fat), my skirt didn’t have any pockets. I couldn’t very well show up back at the barbecue with a fistful of Jockey, could I? That would have been suspicious. Of course, I did regret it, leaving the panties behind. Regretted it almost immediately, actually, and not just for fear of my skirt flying up into my face as I balanced on the handlebars and he stood on the pedals pumping and panting us up the hill. I realized, clinging and swaying on the cold metal loop as I was, with face flushed, stray bark stuck to the back of my shoulder, and naughtiness erupting from my pores, that I hadn’t ridden on handlebars like this or even ridden a bike without a helmet like this since I was a little kid. That made me think that maybe you had a kid. I thought about your kid and how, after breakfast tomorrow, he would be sent out in the yard to play with your dog that bounds about, smelling things. And I saw a floppy golden pup named Lad, wagging and sniffing and whining on our spot under the tree. Then, of course, the boy is there, too, poking at my delicately flowered underwear with a stick, bringing it to you, asking questions. So, anyway, I’ve been meaning to write you and let you know that I did regret it, and I am sorry if, you know, explaining my underwear to your son was a bad moment for you, parentingwise.
Sincerely, |
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
(Thanks, P’nut and John Hughes!)
Sorry, I couldn’t think of a clever title for this one. James has tagged me for the what’s on your nightstand meme. I’m a little late in responding, but here goes:
*I always sleep with earplugs in. Done it since college. If I don’t have a pair of earplugs in I get a shitty night’s sleep.
So, pretend you’re tagged and tell me what you’ve got on your nightstand!
Today I saw the most beautiful bumble bee, dead, lying on its side on a sill next to an opaque glass block window. It was a Kodak moment. My camera is at home.
After I saw the bee I saw a beautiful yellow butterfly fluttering around a patch of hot pink and purple petunias. Another Kodak moment. My camera is still at home.
Bums…