Based on a True Story

Today I was cleaning out my home office and happened across some notes I took in the middle of the night.

The Background: While my husband was in business classes at school it was a common practice for teachers to instruct the students to subscribe to the Wall Street Journal. Some used the threat of assignments gleaned from the pages from the Journal and others just left it at subscribe or else. So, my husband did what many other people did in those circumstances and subscribed to the Wall Street Journal. He neglected to open them or read them. He want so far as to never let them in the house. At the end of my driveway was a pile of Wall Street Journals.

In case you're wondering why I didn't pick them up - I like to see how far things will go.

The Story: This all takes place in the course of one night and is based of off notes I took on the night in question.

1:34 a.m. There was a car light streaming in the window. I complained. My husband said it was coming from a parked car. I looked out the window. It was coming from my driveway.

They stole the Wall Street Journals.

1:39 a.m. I decided to keep a diary.

1:42 a.m. I decided whether or not to call the police. I didn't.

1:45 a.m. I changed my mind.

1:47 a.m They laughed.

1:52 a.m. I went for a donut.

1:58 a.m. I started looking for the van.

2:04 a.m. I stumbled across a lit up lodge. I went inside.

2:09 a.m. I found a huge pile of Wall Street Journals.

2:10 a.m. I was barraged and knocked unconscious.

3:42 a.m. I regained consciousness to find I was tied to a chair and the Journals had beaten me up.

3:46 a.m. The van showed up and a guy hopped out. He apologized.

4:00 a.m. The guy from the van dropped me off at home. He left four Wall Street Journals.

The Closing Statements: If there is any lesson that can be gleaned from the events that unfolded, whether real or imaginary, it is this: have your pet spayed or neutered, because once you stop making sense there is nowhere to go from there.

Shucks and Ahhhh

I wouldn't necessarily call it disappointment and I'm not really amazed either, but it is something I have been a little obsessed with lately.

First, it would be appropriate to say that I, like a generation of people who support thumb torture, am an avid texter. I'm nowhere near the thousand levels, but I can easily hit the upper 40s in a day (which is only impressive because I only know two people). But it's not a problem and I can quit anytime I swear.

Now as a texter I have regrettably participated in behaviors I do not approve of nor condone. I'm talking about ... wl u no.

Seeing inappropriate abbreviations and purposely misspelled words makes me cringe. Sure, I'm not perfect but ... grr.

As a by-product I am also fairly good at finding meaning in statements like, "4got 2 ask when i tt c and p."

Which brings me to my current obsessive thought. In my line of work I take lots of notes. Taking these notes by hand is bad because I have spent years training myself to write in an elaborate manner and, while pleasing to the eye, swooshes and swirls do not make for quick writing.

Since I have learned in the past three years to type without looking at a keyboard my typing is a bit quicker, but it is still not really good.

So, with my ability to hop in and out of absurd abbreviations why can I not do it when taking notes. I have my old stand-bys, but when it comes to something unexpected my head goes blank and I fall behind.

That's about it. For the past two weeks all I've done is sit and think about why I can't make up abbreviations on the fly. It's kept me up at night a few times.

The Key to Happiness

As I was washing my face the other day I dragged my fingers across what meager eyebrows I have been graced with. As the water that had pooled in my brows trickled down my face I was amused. For some reason the squeegee type action draining droplets of water amuses me.

I am no stranger to musicals so naturally this not only brought to mind 'Sound of Music' and the classic A Few of My Favorite Things, but also other things that, while they may not all be my favorite things, they do amuse me.

My favorite color is orange. My theory behind it is:Orange reminds me of clowns and though clowns don't necessarily make me happy they make some people happy so orange must be a happy color.

I like big, fat, bushy eyebrows. I prefer straight and serious eyebrows. Some are too animated. That is unnecessary. They should be content to sit on their owner's face and if the moment is right, maybe one can arch up for emphasis.

I like woolly caterpillars. That's pretty self-explanatory... They remind me of bushy eyebrows.

I like animals shaped like jelly beans. Animals that exhibit this fortunate shape tend to be exponentially cuter than their un-jelly bean shaped counterparts. Example... guinea pigs v. rats.

The theme song from Flash Gordon by Queen. Best Song Ever.

Sure, I could continue, but seeing as how I don't have a birthday coming up in the near future there is no reason to construct a complete wish list. Stay tuned for the upcoming post: Lilly's Least Favorite Things or How Evil Is The Blueberry.