Little Princess Lettuce Leaf AKA Spring Break. Booyah.

Wanna know what we have lined up for the Eve of Springy Breakin’?

Check this out.Image

I know, I know…it’s just sooo cool.

Eeek! My daughter is so excited she can hardly contain her excitement. Oh mah gaawwhhhT…I can’t..I can…hardly say it…it is THAT amazing. Titter titter titter…she’s 14.


We are going to test the limits of lettuces that Troy the Bobblehead Dog will eat! We are going to make him lie there in his gargoyle stance….and then fling various genus-e-species of the lettuce family at him from a few feet away….and then we are going to laugh hysterically when he makes the GLOP sound of his big flappy lips as his jaws start clamping shut over that sweet morsel offered up from the food gods above. We laugh because he hasn’t quite connected the dots. How is this dog to know that the lettuce in hand still comes from the human even after it becomes airborne.


1) We can’t wait to find out which ones, if any, get regurged onto the shiny silvery grey shag on my office floor.

2) We will then jot down our results…

3) …and then take a memorial photo of him posing with a lettuce leaf balanced on the tip of his nose.

It’s a cute nose…even the deep, jagged scars from the cat wars.

4) Let the party commence! 

I say yeaaahhhbabyy to that….

This is what we do for festive fun.

I know, we’re just, you know, like that.


Time For Spring Cleaning…my brain is cluttered

There is a lot of junk in the closet...maybe it would be better to lay here.

There is a lot of junk in the closet…maybe it would be better to lay here.

Rather than work on my work work, I found myself poking around on WP today….how did that happen?

I should be finishing up my current project. Nothing has the capacity of dashing my spirits mo’ bettah than a tail-between-my-legs late submission. It just makes me feel like a heal.

Yes, I meant to make a rhyme.

But nooo; heal or no heal, I can’t seem to refocus myself to the things I am supposed to be doing. Instead, I am tripping over all of the clutter on my dashboard.

Where did all of these drafts come from? I have no recollection of writing any of them. Nor did I ever take the time to actually edit and publish them. No wonder I haven’t posted anything in close to a year. Why bother having a blog if I can’t commit to it? 

[pause….5 minute break]

So I thought about it and have decided not to be so hard on myself. In taking stock of the year since my last post, I have been pretty busy. In fact, busy to the degree that I feel it important enough to compile a list of some of the things. A list for my own personal reckoning.

Okay, forget the list, I’m going to detail everything in one kick-a@@ run-on sentence. Bring it.

I….completed a master’s degree in less than 12 months – with a 4.0 no less, started writing for money (yeah, I know, real dollars for scribing my half-baked ideas about law enforcement testing, shwong), had things surgically removed from my body, lost the innocence of thinking that no one would ever hurt my children, struggled (and continue to do so) to stand by and stand tall for the injured child all the while trying to not crumple up on the floor in overwhelming mommy-pain, attempted to come to terms with the fact that I can’t go home to visit my peeps until I can accept that home is where an excuse for a human being robbed my daughter’s innocence close to a decade ago, metaphorically lost my other child via the enlistment process into the US Air Force, adopted the most amazing socially-disordered animal and then fell head over heels in love with his stinky butt, decided to pack up and relocate across country again, lost an amazing family member after her wonderfully full and long life (RIP Cake Granny), reaffirmed that my man really is my soul-mate and I love him more as each day passes, have determinedly begun the journey to start another educational pursuit…and I didn’t even lose any hair…or the weight from having my thyroid surgically abscond from my innards. Busy.

For those that know me, I totally would have tried to say all that on one breath; and probably would have succeeded. Lucky for me my fingers don’t need to breathe.

In closing, I have taken it upon myself to schedule a number of sessions to reacquaint myself with the lackluster things in my blogger past. I shall reconnoiter the impedimenta of notations  left laying about. With due diligence I promise to pursue and complete the dashboard spring cleaning.

Peace out.

Salt Lick Anyone?

So, it perplexes me a little, this thought process that is sitting like a warm pancake on my mind. I am not sure why, but I have an overwhelming urge to lick sea salt right out of the palm of my hand.  I do. Badly. Now. Post haste. And I am sitting at my desk. This is really odd.

Of course, if I actually did go for a little ole’ lickey loo…hmm. Let me think about it a little.  Starting with the reach into my desk drawer, then comes the clutching of the Sea Salt cannister…shake shake…the clever little idea of my own salt lick begins to pique after I dump a few grains on to my hand.  I gaze lovingly at it and think, ‘what a pretty little clump of white.”  Leaning over I slowly start sticking out my tongue, leaning, whistfully swiping away each, mmm,  and every, mmm, little pungent, mmmmmm, crystal….mmmm. The anticipation of that sting of pre-tequilla sodium starts to intoxicate my brain.

Mm..[SLAP] the milisecond of  joy is abruptly spanked away by a gagging hold on my throat. Gaaaghhkk….fear and anger is triggered by the smear of a chemical gloss across the surface of my mouth. It pungently tortures…confusion sets in…there is this intermingling and simultaneous warring sensation of the taste of oil, salt, metal and the smell of sicky sweet flower nectared purfume that doesn’t match the message my brain had previously begun to process.

Agghhhgk, gag, the lotion, ‘Tahini Sweetie’…all over my hands. F*$# ME! I hate being so forgetful!

Maybe I better return to the task that initially bored me into this salty fantasy. Its gotta be safer planning a yardsale.


Yardsale anyone?