S.C. is coming to...I mean...in my town.

I saw him, I saw him! I'm not sure if I should reveal the details in case the Big Guy-and this time I DO mean Santa-is in hiding. However, since he was in a red convertible with the license plate SANTACL (or maybe it was SCLAUS-give me some slack, he was going kind of fast and I was taken by surprise) he must not care too much. Who knew a little old town (if you can call it that) like Independence would be the home away from home for the most important man in the world. What? Yes he is. Who doesn't love Santa? All ages, all colors, all sizes--everybody adores Santa. I have seen this man around town before, but no one believed me (and unfortunately none of the Wild Ones saw him this time either--too busy arguing with each other--hope Santa didn't see that!) So don't tell anyone, but if you happen to be in my neck of the woods keep your eyes peeled. I will too and if I see him I'll put in a good word for you-after all Christmas is only 201 days away.

A lost art.

When is the last time you wrote a letter and I mean got out stationary and a real pen, stuffed it in an envelope with a stamp (or if your like me, several stamps that you hope add up to roughly the right amount) and put it in a mailbox--you know the kind by the side of the road or perhaps the kind hanging from the side of your house? If you are an offspring of Mavis I am sure you do your share of posts to Florida, but besides that? Even invitations and thank you notes are sent electronically. Again as a descendant of Mavis-and possibly Martha Stewart-I feel obligated to send out the real thing. Besides I can be as creative as I want and express my personality (of course there are times when e-mail comes in handy for the anonymity if you know what I mean). I love to write in any way, shape or form (I wish that part of me had been unleashed in high school and early college--perhaps I was so busy writing and editing the Big Guy's papers that I had no time to enjoy my own). I don't know about you, but going to the mailbox (and I have a lot of time to think on that long hike-no mailbox hanging by my front door. I am lucky if the one at the end of the drive way is still standing each morning) for me holds great anticipation. Will it be all junk mail and bills or will there be something really exciting in there- a letter, an invitation, a check you didn't know was coming-maybe a package? It's a different kind of thrill than opening an email--knowing that someone took the time to "snail mail" you something. Go ahead and make someone's day-mail them a letter. Throw a little cash in there and you'll really make someone dance.

Logorrhea

Do you ever think about the English language? The old words that don't get used much and the new "words" that people are making up today? Kids have new ideas and want to be original and the technological explosion demands a whole new dictionary. What I am doing right now has it's own word: logorrhrea-to shoot words forcefully out of an orifice or in other words my humble opinion on everything forced on those who frequent this blog...blogorrhea? (Please don't quote me on these definitions for any thing official).

In the fall you see many men into pogonotrophy. I'd like to make you squirm and have to look it up, but I know you are busy so I will be kind--simply they try to grow a beard (is that so that the animals will think they are among "friends")? By week 4 many just end up mustachioed...gesundheit. What do you think all those men with messed up hair on the back of their heads (from their wives cuffing them) have been looking at? Callipygians...you got it...a beautifully proportioned buttocks. (Do you think I should change my name to Calli??)

How many tittles do you have? Me, personally, I just have two. No matter how you spell it, the Big Guy also has two-unless you count "The Big Guy" and then he only has one. Maybe that is why we are so compatible, or perhaps it is just because he adores my zaftigness.

I think I have just increased the smarticalness of all my beautiferous friends--you can thank me later!!

It's still raining...which reminds me...

Just what you always didn't know you needed. (Say that 5 times fast). Last May while reliving-literally-my college days, I was meandering down Washington from my historic old classroom to the 16 (Minneapolis' finest transportation) AND minding my own business.I remember a feeling of gloom(regarding the weather) and thinking that things could not get much worse--why do we always have to put out a challenge!? Just then a bus approached me from behind (and I picture the driver saying "Hey everybody--watch this!") and hit the biggest puddle you have ever seen (which you would have thought that if it was so big that I would have seen it too). The spray completely covered me--I was soaked from umbrella covered head to non-waterproof shoe covered toes. Since I was sure of the bus drivers previous comment and that all eyes were on me--I kept on walking, never missed a beat. I pretended like there was not muddy slop dripping off my nose or ice cold water sliding down my back--until that bus pulled away. I stubbornly stood on the corner and waited in the freezing rain until the next bus came. I may have squished when I sat down, but at least I didn't have to sit next to someone who saw it happen. 

It's raining...it's pouring...

When it rains and pours and it feels like it will never stop...put on a pair of cute rubbers (you might as well look good and be protected) and a waterproof slicker (unless it's really warm, then go as natural as you can) and run outside and play. If you are reading this as a metaphor for life (this one's for us e.s.) grab your inner strength (I know it's there), crowd yourself with good friends and run straight into the hurricane. There's got to be a rainbow some where on the other side and the ride will sure be a lot more fun.

***note to self: start writing book about crazy life (ie-family and friends) titled "You can't make this sh*# up."