A sequel to Packing Some Peace, of sorts. Also, my first official I’m Back From My Self-Imposed Hiatus Post. So. Much. To. Unpack.
Did you know that the best laid plans go wherever socks disappear to? Although I read on the Internets lately that socks mostly get lost somewhere in the washer’s inside doohickeys and often end up out the water pipe, hence they should always be in a zipped sock bag. So let’s go with the best laid plans end up wherever all my pens and ponytail holders do, some nether region I couldn’t find on a map if I tried, a magical place propelled by a similarly magical force of pilfering, i.e., stealing said items never to be seen again.
WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?
I’m glad you asked.
Announcer: We interrupt this bloggy hiatus to bring you a special report from the surface of the sun. Our correspondent, Tara, is braving the elements to bring us the latest.
Me: Well, I don’t know who you are, and I’m not actually on the surface of the sun, but it sure does feel like it. Happy to provide an update, though.
These are dangerous times, my friends. The word dam that filters what I’m thinking and keeps it from actually coming out of my mouth has sprung a few leaks of late. I can’t help it — I hold stuff in until it has nowhere else to go but out, and often unexpectedly, even to me.
The fact that I’ve been binge-watching shows that often feature sarcasm, because OF COURSE I would find that amusing, probably isn’t helping.
Case in point: last week, I immediately thought of a quote from Veep after I answered a (stupid) question. The quote, by Richard Splett, assistant to Selina Meyer: “You know, I’m saying all of this out loud, and I probably shouldn’t be.”
AN ACTUAL CONVERSATION
The Powers That Be, walking in the door: “Do you have a ChapStick?”
“No,” I said. Then, without warning, “Well, no, and if I did, it would be mine, which would mean it was open and used, which would mean you couldn’t use it, so I would have to have an unopened, unused ChapStick on me. So do I have an unopened, unused ChapStick on me? Well, the answer to that would be no.”
I’d say it’d be wise if my ChapStick were made of SuperGlue, but who am I kidding? Stupid question gets a stupid answer.
May the fourth be with you…
Me, still recovering from all that Catholic school education: “And also with you…”
My brain took a tangent from Ally Bean’s post today and reminded me of these two things I said recently without realizing they were coming out of my mouth until they were long said:
“I don’t have time to explain to you why things take so much time.”
“If you keep calling so many things priorities, pretty soon the priorities list is going to be a horizontal line.”
Thanks, Pixabay, for the pic!
Dear Blog World:
Tara will not be in
school blog world today. It’s her birthday and she’s taking a few days off to celebrate. She’s not doing any homework either.
I’ve just finished my taxes and am getting ready to send in my check (electronic payment incurs a fee — no, government, I won’t pay you to send you my money). Came across this gem on the voucher instructions:
IRS Payment Voucher: No checks of $100 million or more accepted. The IRS can’t accept a single check (including a cashier’s check) for amounts of $100,000,000 ($100 million) or more. If you are sending $100 million or more by check, you will need to spread the payments over two or more checks, with each check made out for an amount less than $100 million.
*sigh* Great. What a freakin’ inconvenience, eh?
Though susceptible to emarketing, I still receive email from the Philadelphia outlet that hosts Broadway tours because if I ever set foot in New York City again, I’ll be the most surprised person out of anyone. In these emails, I expect to see notices of other upcoming shows. What I don’t expect is hyperbole to the point that I almost spit out my drink whilst reading the screen:
Rob Lowe: Hollywood actor and screen legend.
Oh, take a seat. This is going to take a few…
Inspired by a recent conversation with a bloggy friend, who confessed jealousy towards the situation in the Tom Hanks classic movie Castaway.
So I tell a wee story. I says…
Therapist: “Write about the Tom Hanks movie where he’s alone and why we need people in our lives.”
Me: “Are you insane? That’s a DREAM COME TRUE!”
(Editor’s note: Not all the time… just a lot of the time… well, most of the time… unless they’re My People… ergo not annoying… OK. Just make it all the time.)