flip flops

I stopped wearing flip flops about a month ago, maybe only a few weeks... At first things were ok. My husband seemed a little remote, but it was nothing really unusual. Then I guess I just lost the flow. I stopped drinking coffee. I started to sleep more... a lot more... and things just went downhill from there. I felt like I couldn't cope as well, with life. Then a couple of weeks ago everything derailed:

My sister in law has been quite sick in the hospital.
My other granny passed away suddenly at the age of 92.
Our family has had to make some changes like cutting off the premium cable channels, our phone line, and our penchant for eating out.

And... I had to cancel our trip to Hawaii.

All I can say is, "Damn those pale grey ballet flats!!!"

an amends...

Dear Sober Chicken,
It was wrong of me to snap at you the other day. When I called you, I should have been more clear about what I was looking for in our interaction. I really just needed to vent. And after telling you in detail what a m----- f------ c--- that Mr. --- was, I was not up for hearing about how when I'm disturbed I must look to myself first for the solution. And I'm not sure I agree with you when you say that the words "my part" don't show up anywhere in our solutions manual. At least, I'm not sure that those words aren't implied. But I digress. I'm sorry that I called you an annoying, arrogantly obsequious, 12 stepping, seed pecking snot. I apologize for hanging up on you so abruptly, without even saying good bye. I realize that you were just trying to be helpful and that you did not want to co-sign my bullsh--. Will you forgive my outburst, Sober Chicken? I would like to be able to call you again for you are truly stuffed with sage breadcrumbs of knowledge.

I am the mole!

True Blood: The Complete Second Season (HBO Series)

I need darkness. I need to burrow into the cool, moist earth for some relief.
I despise this glaring, gleaming, polished chrome blindness that is driving in July.
And the heat... !
All I can say is that it's no wonder that murdered drifters are rolled up in carpets and stored in the third floor "sewing room" in Louisiana. The heat will do that to you.
I am languishing in the languid torpor that is summer.
Oh God!
I long for the crisp damp chill of autumn.
Pumpkin hunting! Tromping through crunchy yellow and rust colored leaves. The smell of wood smoke in the air promising a crackling fire waiting at home.

Not this... warm gelatin that we call "air".

I shall draw the drapes and wait for nightfall. I shall not emerge until October 1.

why ghosts don't exist

Here is the arguement for the non-existence of ghosts that I posited to my 4 year old who is currently enchanted with the game "Ghost in the Graveyard."
1. When the body dies, a person's soul goes to live with "God", who exists in another dimension -- can you say DIMENSION?
2. Therefore there is nothing left here on earth to be a ghost.
3. So ghosts are made up because it's fun to feel spooky sometimes.