Once more...with peeling

“Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under trees on a summer's day, listening to the murmur of the water, or watching the clouds float across the sky, is by no means a waste of time.” ― John Lubbock, The Use Of Life

To continue my annual blog post tradition I would like to beg your attention to deep and urgent matters of the spirit, the first of which being this excellent Mexi-mocha experience in a ceramic mug. I have less than 8 minutes remaining on the meter and have thus far determined my blog subject and inhaled a sturdy slice of gluten-free quiche containing all mysteries of flavor and subsistence. Today is Stripe Thursday which I started at my temp job and am bravely continuing despite said job's expiration. Now that we've exchanged pleasantries I'll get right to the quick of the matter. Summer Time Passes You By Bye Blackbird Singing In The Rain Shield My Heart Of Glass Cleaner By The Minute Rice A Roni You see, no matter how deep or thoughtful my insight there is always a grand current of mirth and wild abandon that swoops in to rescue me from morosity. Today this current presents as coffee. Double tall, half sweet, coconut caramel macchiato. In other words, kiss my craft latté ass, you rainy day! Writing time is over. Laundry time is now. I'd like to thank my captive audience (pretty sure that's kidnapping), Woods Coffee, and Apple products for enabling my writing habit. That is all (until next year).

Cake. I like it, you like it, get your own.

This is me hiking in search of cake. Just kidding. This is me, hiking in search of cake and lovely things that are blue and floaty and fairy like. I read an article yesterday about adult ADD diagnoses and every person who was diagnosed magically became capable and overcame their diagnosis once they figured out what the hell was wrong with them. All of their lives. My first reaction was "where is that piece of cake that my friend gave me" and then "maybe if someone in a tweed suit and bow tie diagnoses me with ADHD I too can lead a stress-free and clear life." After that came the usual flood of self-doubt about writing and apprehension over homework and exam due dates. That's a fun time right there! All day I cruise around my tasks and classes and campus with plots and stories and characters running through my head in Parkour glory. I am an engineering major, obviously. Oh, ha ha! Ha! The belly-laughs we will have over my jokes. So many jokes. Yes. *ahem* This is some damn good cake! Back to the point. I am inundated with thoughts and ideas and scenes until the day fades from "family bonding through litterbox duty" to "homework is fun and better than orgasms." Notice I did not claim it to be better than cake. We know better than to blaspheme cake. The point is, though, that I storycraft all day long until the opportunity avails itself for me to type these narratives. Dystopias. Myopia. Bill Nye the Science Guy. Cake. (introspective intermission) Ok I have given the matter exactly one minute of thought and here's what I think. I must power through and write until my fingers bleed and my voice dusts itself off and glides smoothly over page and pen. And then get a band-aid for the melodrama. Ouch, get it off! Right now I am successfully and productively avoiding re-writing a 5-pg. autobiography. I do not want to stay up all night writing but it is also quiet and still inside the house-perfect conditions for being distracted and getting sh*t done. Darn. Guess I'd better join the pillows and blankets on my bed in their quest for everlasting repose. Except I'll set an alarm. Sleep is for the dead, after all. Cake. And don't you forget it!

Hey you with the eyeballs! Yes, you.

Somewhere in here is a very inspiring and compelling picture of whatever body of water borders Larrabee State Park. Because the html is very graciously provided for me, I have become lazy with the knowing how to do it manually part. I clicked the "center alignment" radio button so it's either in the very middle of this blog or centered above this group of text. Ahem. Now that the formalities have been exchanged, let us achieve what one famous person is known to have once uttered so profusely and in its entirety. To the showers! Wait, no. Let's eat! That's not quite it either. Bon voyage! *Disclaimer: there is no famous person, nor will there be, nor was there ever at any point in reference to any utterances of any sort of profundity or length. Take this as you might. When was the last time you attempted to help a school-aged child with math? Do monkeys blink like bats? Just how many latte possibilities exist before one's heart implodes? Have you ever really considered the benefits of hand cream? In your favorite day dream, do the animals talk and sing? Are there animals? Why are they morally opposed to singing? WHY?! What exactly would Jesus do if he encountered the world of smart phones? That last bit is a serious muse. It won't happen again, I promise. Maybe. The color green. Where did Janis Joplin really go? How many kids will be named Bobby McGee in the coming year? How many of you understand that reference to music culture? Define culture. Hah hah hah that's a terrible answer! I'm just kidding, it's a lovely answer and everybody matters in their own special way. Has anybody in the room (raise your hand nice and high now) ever thought of or ingested willingly Emergen-C popsicles? It's a great idea that needs attempting. Now o'clock is good. One of these days I'll...well it won't ever happen if I keep planning for "one of these days" now will it? Free-write warm-up complete. Commence actual blog entry. Actual Blog Entry Nope. Got nuthin'. The above mind meanderings will have to do until next time, dearies. Off I takes meself to mine pillow cool and dreams divine. Cheers and be off with ye! Adventures call and your name's the loudest reply!

Oh right, I have this. Um, what's your name again?

"Something something *homework-do-the-dishes-the-cat-just-barfed-why-are-there-starving-children-my-carpet-has-a-pet*" then I just remembered I resolved to start (and finish?) a blog. Last year. Just one, mind you. I hear they can be quite unruly in bunches. But only the purple variety. There are so many tasks and promises I commit to on principle, but then refuse due to character. Or trying to be a character. Heh heh heh...I can never get them straight (nor do I care to!). Take that, World! World? world. Round thing we live on and kill with our might, wit, and whim. And thoughts. Mine tend to drop off into a lively puddle of mushy A.D.D. Have you tried kale lately? Have you tried anything? At all? Do you like the sunrise or is it an ambiguous time of day reference that you avoid because it involves rousing your body from its lazy state of being? Sometimes I wonder this of myself, that all the times I've thought I liked something it was really to keep appearances with myself, the Numero Uno Me. Who am I in terms of you and you reflected from me? Who are we and just what the hell are we doing, do we think we are? I really try to write the most impressive monologues and perform them in my head as I type away with apparent nonchalance. Really, seriously. It's been great seeing you again. We should get lunch, do this more often. Because I know you love to just catch up with your life. No real substance or direction beyond cyclic. No real thought. Just wondering what's for lunch. What's your name again? Are you looking at me when you say that or am I just paranoid? Maybe I'll slide on over into my little comfort bubble and be predictable. You know, so we're comfortable with each other again. Or not.

Enough daily life, let's write!

Wait. A little longer. Nearly there. Well, grab a towel and clean it up your d*mn self! Okay. Here we go. Right, dinner. I do that part. Hey! that plate is for you, crazy-head. Five more minutes, and then I can create. I just need a wee bit more mental space....story time. That's right. Well, pick out some books, and.... No, you cannot have five stories tonight, but you can...well yes, you may have two. Two stories. Did I white-out those words as I spoke them to your ears? Oh, you forgot to put on your listening ears. Well then. Let's get to it, shall we? Once upon a time.... Not that way, eh? Yes, you're entirely correct in your opinion AND assumption. Shall I start over? Okay, you can be the child and I'll be the mom. Right. Child. You. Mom.... I'm glad you get it already. Sometimes you can be a mom, but not until you're 42 and I've interviewed every potential father on the planet. No the planet is not plate shaped, but I see where you get your hypothesis since a plate is round similar to a ball. Well, a ball is also known as a sphere and that means.... Yes, you may have chicken nuggets for dinner tomorrow. No, not the entire bag. Oh, so you really found your sock this time? Sam got it, you say? No kidding. Yeah, I bet he did mistake it for his finger puppet. No, I promise to take your socks from him if it should ever happen again. I don't actually want to to wear a Mr. Yuck sticker to my first day of class, but thank you very much for being so gracious with your sticker collection. Yes, you do need more. I see. Well, the smelly girl in your class probably farted, which led to an increase in her Range of Odor. You cannot bring hand-sanitizer to 1st grade. I'm sorry, but I simply won't allow it. Yes, you may ask your teacher for some hand-sanitizer, BUT ONLY TO USE ON YOUR HANDS, NOT Smelly Girl!!! You're welcome for clarifying the situation. I'm sure Smelly Girl's mother would love to have coffee with me sometime. Why do you want to have a sleepover in the library? Ducks, huh? No way. I'm actually proficient in duck noises on three continents. How did I learn this? Reading. Really; seriously. No, not weeding. Reeeeaaaddiiiiiing. Oh, you've put your listening ears away for the evening. Well, that was a lovely story, but I think that my voice needs to take a small vacation. Oh no, just for a tiny moment. Yes, that was in fact a tiny moment. Like when you were a baby. No, I wasn't going to name you Moment. Or Shamrock. Yes, I have. What shoes? The pink ones? Ooooh, the other pink ones. Yes, you may. So by pink you actually mean brown. Sweet dreams, Princess Fart Head. Okay a lullaby. Not that one? How about Silent Night? No? But I just sang three entire songs for you and added a jazz beat to the last. The song from that time we rode a bus and you forgot your hat? There wasn't a song. That was me groaning from bus nausea. I actually do not know what happened to your toilet paper roll bumble bee from Kindergarten. It's possible that the lovely folks at the recycling center needed it for inspiration. Yes, I do have underwear. You'll get your own when you grow up. Underwear too, but I was referring to a driver's license since you asked me that first. Maybe cars will be outlawed when you're older and you'll just have to walk everywhere. Of course you can be a pilot. Why would I tell you not to do something like that? Right. Yes, that does make sense. I did tell you not to jump down the escalator at the airport for safety reasons and spiritual longevity. It does sound like gravity. It's the thing that keeps your feet on the ground. Otherwise you'd have to swim in the sky. Sam's in your toy box you say? I should rescue him for you? Wait one moment. I need protective clothing. And some cleaning supplies. Well, cats aren't meant to live in toy-boxes however magical they may or may not be. You cannot be The Nutcracker when you grow up. I lost the Fairy Godmother's number, so you'll have to remain a real girl. I'm sure you could make a fake, telegraphing nose. We can. Well, first I have to download the app to my phone, then we can look at constellations. Floss? It comes from the ancient Greeks. I swear! Okay, it comes from a mass distribution center somewhere in Ohio. The first explanation was much more thrilling, was it not? Of course I love you! Hey, it's six hours ahead in France! We went there when you were four days old so that I could check it off your to-do list before you knew you wanted to go there. Yes, you may live in Mexico. It is fun to say, isn't it. Sure thing, kiddo. And you may adopt sixty-three cats. No, a badger would not make the best of friend in Mexico. Something about the heat; you understand. Alright, good night. Sweet dreams. Yes, I do put sugar in my coffee. Thanks for your understanding. Jamaica. Really. Yes we can go there. Five years from tomorrow sounds lovely. Ready? Three, two, one....

Operation Sleeping Child has commenced. Now, I finally have time to write my blog! If only this puzzle game wasn't so compelling....