This was supposed to be the mandatory post about New Year's resolutions, but the truth is I don't really do them. I tried once and ended up with a husband. After that I pretty much decided to leave well enough alone.
The trouble is without resolutions I don't have much to talk about, you know, since that was the initial goal of this entry.
Because I am an innovative and lazy sort I decided to dig deep in to the dark catacombs of my brain and pull out this tasty morsel. In one of my earlier posts I promised to talk about things I hate, and today I would like to entertain with a condensed version of something I wrote a long time ago. It has been recycled for so many classes I've lost count. So, one more time with feeling, I bring you: Oh! How I Hate the Blueberry.
My mother has fed me the heart of a pig and the brain of some other animal. I ate both without question. I have willingly eaten a snail and the tentacles of a squid. Even though I have done all of this there is one food I have not eaten: The blueberry.
The reason for not eating them goes much deeper than not liking the taste because I have no idea what they taste like. I believe blueberries are evil.
My family is very passionate about food - to the extent that we have been known to base relationships on the types of foods others eat and despise others for what they do or don't eat.
I was always told to try a food before I decided I didn't like it. This makes it more confounding to know that I don't like blueberries without tasting one. I think it began with one childhood story and grew from there.
When I was younger my mom told me that her mom wouldn't eat blueberries in baked goods because she felt they were looking at her. This actually makes sense. Many people won't eat anything with it's head still attached for the same reason.
But blueberry muffins looking at you is only the beginning. I know those little buggers are evil, and I have proof. Or at least a very reasonable facsimile.
I have developed a theory that blueberries are the minions of Satan and are waiting to possess your soul. Sounds silly, but I have evidence to support my claim.
First, if you take the letters used to spell blueberries, scramble them up, take some out, add some in and throw in some blood of a virgin, it most definitely would spell Beelzebub. Coincidence? No.
Second, through years of scientific research I have discovered a few symptoms associated with demonic possession including bloating and abrupt changes in eye color. Armed with this information I racked my brain for something that exhibited these traits and the consumption of blueberries. And, poof, I had it.
In the Roald Dahl book, "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory," there is the most outstanding example of blueberry possession documented. Violet eats the forbidden chewing gum and passes through each course unscathed until she comes to the blueberry pie. And oh my what happens to her? She bloats up and her eyes turn blue - like a blueberry. Possession!
So there you have it - a classic example of blueberry possession. I have never eaten one and never will. Violet did and was possessed. Had it not been a children's book I am sure Dahl would have gone into more detail and revealed Violet had shown some of the more evil signs of possession as well. If what happened to Violet is any indication of the evil that blueberries can cause then I hope you think twice before you decide to eat another one.
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Let Sleeping Dogs Lie
When I moved from my childhood home into my husband's house I didn't bring everything with me. I meant to but the stuff I left behind wasn't as high on the priority list as say, stuffed llamas and tiny chenille chickens.
Over the years, my mom has worked hard to make sure those forgotten items have returned to me. Because after 6 years it is clear that these are things I can't live without.
One of her more recent contributions was a box of notes I had saved from junior high and high school. Most of them can easily be classified as ridiculous - pure and simple. I read through some of them and was amazed at a few things.
The one that stands out the most is that many of the letters from who was my best friend include thinly veiled death threats, epic battles between fanged bunnies and evil powers, and so much more.
It was an amusing little jaunt down memory lane and it was amusing to remember how ridiculous we were back then. On the other hand, if I hadn't read through them I may have been able to remember the past with a little more of a positive light.
Over the years, my mom has worked hard to make sure those forgotten items have returned to me. Because after 6 years it is clear that these are things I can't live without.
One of her more recent contributions was a box of notes I had saved from junior high and high school. Most of them can easily be classified as ridiculous - pure and simple. I read through some of them and was amazed at a few things.
The one that stands out the most is that many of the letters from who was my best friend include thinly veiled death threats, epic battles between fanged bunnies and evil powers, and so much more.
It was an amusing little jaunt down memory lane and it was amusing to remember how ridiculous we were back then. On the other hand, if I hadn't read through them I may have been able to remember the past with a little more of a positive light.
Monday, December 21, 2009
Broken Promise and the Cleansing of Demons
If memory serves me correctly I may have made a promise about a new post each day for the rest of the year and pretty shortly after that promise I missed a post. OK, so it was the next day. Let me explain.
For the past month every member of my family has been sick with one thing or the other. There have been: Ear infections, vomiting, fevers, eye infections and pink eye, coughing, oozing, upper respiratory infections, more snot than you can shake a stick at, shivers, shakes, congestion and so on.
I have used two bottles of Lysol, washed my hands raw, avoided touching my eyes for two days, washed all the laundry in the house twice and am getting ready to do it again.
My house needs cleaning. We haven't done much in the last week, and the trash is piling up because we didn't get it to the curb last week. Trash day was in the middle of the vomiting fit. So, now I have a whole house to clean and no where to put the trash. Sigh.
When I am done with this post and have restocked my supplies I am going to start on a ritualistic cleansing of the house - kind of like when ghost hunters force a dark entity from a home - going room to room cleaning and disinfecting til it's done.
Anyway, when I made the everyday post promise I was clearly in a highly delusional state caused by being surrounded by sickness and not being able to escape. Now I can escape. I will still do my best to fulfill my oath. But we may just get to four posts for the rest of the year.
For the past month every member of my family has been sick with one thing or the other. There have been: Ear infections, vomiting, fevers, eye infections and pink eye, coughing, oozing, upper respiratory infections, more snot than you can shake a stick at, shivers, shakes, congestion and so on.
I have used two bottles of Lysol, washed my hands raw, avoided touching my eyes for two days, washed all the laundry in the house twice and am getting ready to do it again.
My house needs cleaning. We haven't done much in the last week, and the trash is piling up because we didn't get it to the curb last week. Trash day was in the middle of the vomiting fit. So, now I have a whole house to clean and no where to put the trash. Sigh.
When I am done with this post and have restocked my supplies I am going to start on a ritualistic cleansing of the house - kind of like when ghost hunters force a dark entity from a home - going room to room cleaning and disinfecting til it's done.
Anyway, when I made the everyday post promise I was clearly in a highly delusional state caused by being surrounded by sickness and not being able to escape. Now I can escape. I will still do my best to fulfill my oath. But we may just get to four posts for the rest of the year.
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Not Just For Breakfast
In an effort to catch up on my blog posting before the year runs out on me I am going to attempt to barrage this with posts. I am looking to to do one a day for the rest of the year or a grand total of 4 whichever happens first... Since I am currently stuck in my house because of the contagious eye infection debacle of '09 I should have plenty of time to play catch up. And if I start messing up on spelling it is because my eyes crusted over and sealed themselves shut while I was typing and I am just not that great at typing without looking.
This post will revisit some thoughts from a past post. I don't know which one. I could link to it but than I would have to figure out how to link and time is of the essence. So, without any further hesitation I will bring you back to the world of Cheerios.
Cheerios serve a number of purposes to a toddler - one of which does not appear to be as use as a food source. Jack personally enjoys pouring them from one vessel to another. When he gets bored of simply switching their homes he finds joy in pouring them on the floor.
Once the Cheerios are neatly scattered around the living room Jack takes me by the hand and leads me to the vacuum and smiles as if to suggest that he knows I find no greater joy then to vacuum up Cheerios, and look at how convenient he has made this for me.
Of course I relent because there are Cheerios all over the floor and that's just asking for trouble because the last thing I need is to attract more toddlers to my house. For his part Jack grabs up his 'popper' push toy, drapes the vacuum cord around his neck (like mama) and rolls the popper over the pile which achieves three things: grounding them into the floor, scattering them out farther and blocking the real vacuum.
Now, I have also been privy to some information regarding another use for Cheerios. Apparently they come in handy during the course of potty-training little boys. Since we are still in the wee stages of potty-training we have yet to try this out.
My mother-in-law has fed me a number of stories and one of them she really enjoys has to do with Cheerios, my husband and what my future could hold if Jack follows too closely in his father's shadow.
Apparently my husband was a bit of a Cheerio hoarder in his youth. He would store them everywhere most likely in case he grew up and lived in a world where Cheerios were no longer available, probably a lot like The Matrix movies.
I guess the story ends up with Cheerios being discovered flowing from his Little People farm and some choice air vents around the house.
Fast-forward 28 years and I have found Jack depositing some of his stray Cheerios in a niche in the back of the vacuum. My only hope is he thinks he is helping them get into the vacuum and not squirreling them away for later.
Unfortunately Cheerios are my favorite breakfast cereal so there's no hope of them leaving the house. I have personally grown accustomed to keeping a very close eye on Jack while Cheerios are around. As for when my husband's in charge...well, let's just say the electronics should be very cautious.
This post will revisit some thoughts from a past post. I don't know which one. I could link to it but than I would have to figure out how to link and time is of the essence. So, without any further hesitation I will bring you back to the world of Cheerios.
Cheerios serve a number of purposes to a toddler - one of which does not appear to be as use as a food source. Jack personally enjoys pouring them from one vessel to another. When he gets bored of simply switching their homes he finds joy in pouring them on the floor.
Once the Cheerios are neatly scattered around the living room Jack takes me by the hand and leads me to the vacuum and smiles as if to suggest that he knows I find no greater joy then to vacuum up Cheerios, and look at how convenient he has made this for me.
Of course I relent because there are Cheerios all over the floor and that's just asking for trouble because the last thing I need is to attract more toddlers to my house. For his part Jack grabs up his 'popper' push toy, drapes the vacuum cord around his neck (like mama) and rolls the popper over the pile which achieves three things: grounding them into the floor, scattering them out farther and blocking the real vacuum.
Now, I have also been privy to some information regarding another use for Cheerios. Apparently they come in handy during the course of potty-training little boys. Since we are still in the wee stages of potty-training we have yet to try this out.
My mother-in-law has fed me a number of stories and one of them she really enjoys has to do with Cheerios, my husband and what my future could hold if Jack follows too closely in his father's shadow.
Apparently my husband was a bit of a Cheerio hoarder in his youth. He would store them everywhere most likely in case he grew up and lived in a world where Cheerios were no longer available, probably a lot like The Matrix movies.
I guess the story ends up with Cheerios being discovered flowing from his Little People farm and some choice air vents around the house.
Fast-forward 28 years and I have found Jack depositing some of his stray Cheerios in a niche in the back of the vacuum. My only hope is he thinks he is helping them get into the vacuum and not squirreling them away for later.
Unfortunately Cheerios are my favorite breakfast cereal so there's no hope of them leaving the house. I have personally grown accustomed to keeping a very close eye on Jack while Cheerios are around. As for when my husband's in charge...well, let's just say the electronics should be very cautious.
Friday, December 18, 2009
Ten
As I drove home from what seems like the millionth doctor's appointment for little Jack in a two-week period a number of random thoughts ran through my mind. I thought I would rush home and share them with my attention-starved readers - you know, give them a little holiday morsel to chew on. The first one, which was obviously the best, escaped me as soon as the others started flittering in.
Some of the random thoughts I had were:
How much do I have to disinfect my kitchen before I can feel safe making Christmas cookies?
If the normal cat sleeps 18+ hours a day and my cats sleep 22+ what does that make them?
Would more people read my blog if I posted more pictures (not of my cats) and less words?
Where did that penguin's foot go?
And of course the list continues. And of course none of those were thoughts as much as they were questions.
I think what is most important is the original thought, the thought that spurred this entire entry is lost. Just a vague shadow of a memory floating in my brain. The world may never know what greatness it could have produced - and trust me it would have produced greatness! Exclamation point even.
The excitement is palpable. ooo and aah
Some of the random thoughts I had were:
How much do I have to disinfect my kitchen before I can feel safe making Christmas cookies?
If the normal cat sleeps 18+ hours a day and my cats sleep 22+ what does that make them?
Would more people read my blog if I posted more pictures (not of my cats) and less words?
Where did that penguin's foot go?
And of course the list continues. And of course none of those were thoughts as much as they were questions.
I think what is most important is the original thought, the thought that spurred this entire entry is lost. Just a vague shadow of a memory floating in my brain. The world may never know what greatness it could have produced - and trust me it would have produced greatness! Exclamation point even.
The excitement is palpable. ooo and aah
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