Keyboard Confessions

Every week I sit down and confess some things.  Mostly it's just an excuse to write a list.

1.  Through the miracle of technologicialaciousness, I am updating from the Apple store in Nashville.

2.  *cyber wave to Sara*

3.  It's nice to play hooky.  Or is it hookie?  Not to be confused with hickey.  Or hickie.  Confusified.

4.  Scones.  Aren't they manna from the heavens?  Yes they are.  Stop arguing.

5.  Also, there is no real ladylike way to remove scone crumbs from one's cleavage.  Because, the dig and search method is really tactless, the bend over and shake is really risque and the ignore-it-eventually-it-will-fall-out method is really never going to happen.  I must find a restroom.

6.  Also, today I had to shout the words "We don't lick!" at least three times.  I'll bet you wish you were around to know the context of that declaration.

7.  My frenn The Transient Pod is up to her armpit hairs in finals and boxes and hot cinnamon rolls, bless her.  It's almost enough to make you want to whisk away to the moon, isn't it?

8.  So in honor of her, here's a video for your viewing pleasure.  Also, everyone is singing this in my sphere of influence today.  It's true.  Even my Hubs, who grew up in The Void wherein only Carmen was easy listening.



9.  Go away, scone crumb!

10.  You know what I'm doing this afternoon?  Besides crumb removal I mean.  No?  Of course not, how could you?  I'll just tell you.  FABRIC SHOPPING.

11.  Once again, I can feel your jealousy vibes penetrating the innernets and monitor screens.  Look, I can't help it.  Once a rock star, always a rock star.  Just ask my buddy, Mr. Bowie.

12.  Also, he kind of scares me.

13.  I have a blister on the bottom of my pinky toe.

14.  One wouldn't think that a pinky toe blister would cause one to limp and wail, but one would be ever so wrong.

15.  Am I the only one in the world too chicken to Zuumba?  Is that how you even spell it?  I'm not even going to google it, because I want no Zoomba images to penetrate my irises.  Everyone who has Zhooobmahed, keep your positive Czumba comments to yourself.

16.  Go away, pinky toe blister!

17.  I was interviewed!  Wanna read it?  Of course you do, you can't get enough of my drivel.  It's all here.

18.  I enjoy giving interviews.  I also enjoy short walks in the mall and eating scones.

19.  Ooh, and fabric shopping.  And hooking.  Not that hooking, geez.

20.  Ok, off to remove that crumb.

Have a happy and pollen filled weekend, folks!

Emma, my artist and writer

If you've hung around these here parts for awhile, you'll know that I have two girls. 

One is Addie, who is blond and wiry and is so ditzy-hilarious

I must document all her Addisms in hopes she will make me rich and famousy. 

My other daughter is Emma.  She's older, she's a lot like me in personality

and she is blowing me away with her artistic abilities.

Years ago, I posted this picture she drew of our family:

With my cleavage included.  I know, we're so proud.

But her abilities go much farther than accurrately capturing bosom chasms.  Here's a pic Emma did in Kindergarten.

The Mona Lisa!  Dude, my kid is so awesome.

Here's another one:

Am I the only one who thinks this kid is amazing?  I can't even draw this well.

And here's my favorite:

So.  Now that I've astounded you with the glory of my daughter's art, let me share with you the story she's currently writing.  I'm going to write it word for word, including her misspellings.

Dragon's Taritorry

If you ever see a dragon, you might want to run.  Here's why.  Every dragon has it's own taritorry.  And if your in the way you will be forst out.  But that is no longer true.  You see, an evil cat has tacken over as dragon for a long time.  Along time ago, a cat named Odone was picked up from a orphinige.  He has done something called killing.  We don't do that.  We're vegiterieins.  Odone can make meet look like a vegitable.  That is how we have became slaves. 

Pretty good, huh?  All those hours of watching Lord of the Rings are paying off.  Now if I can just get up off my hindquarters and write my story...