Censored. For your protection.

On second thought, instead of San Francisco, I think I'll go to NYC.
I need a moral detox after tonight's debates. Because as far as I'm concerned, I don't particularly care how many guns Ron Paul owns or what Huckabee thinks Jesus would do when it comes to the death penalty.
Questions I would have asked if I fully understood YouTube:

1. Yes, this is a question for Rudy. I was wondering if you tie your sneakers loop-swoop-pull or bunny ears style?
2. Rudy, I wonder, do you make your hair do that on purpose? Maybe you should take advice from Mitt. He has very nice hair.
   
3. Fred, has anyone ever told you how remarkable your resemblance to a turtle is? Fred? Oh Jesus. Someone call an ambulance.

Back on Monday.

Slippery Floors

Do you have a mop?
So I can clean up my brains that have spilled on the floor? I'd hate for anyone to slip on my periaqueductal gray. I hear it's quite slippery.
Coming back from lazy days of Thanksgiving where you lounge until the next meal is ready or when you digest the leftover pie you had for breakfast, is no picnic. Because there is no food. And no warmth outside.
So. Let's blow off this place. Let's leave the homework. And the work. And the brains. And go to San Francisco. They have food and sunshine and not much to worry about. Because of all the flowers in their hair.
Are you in? Give me a call by 3:00.
And don't forget the mop.

On Giving Thanks

• Momma's birthday falling on Thanksgiving. Double holiday! Thanksgiving is the best holiday for your birthday to fall on. It's not a Christian holiday, so you have no remorse about overshadowing Jesus, and it's not a present holiday so there is still gifting. Plus you get the biggest, most delicious meal of the year.
• Having a big, delicious meal the night before Thanksgiving. I like to think of the Oceanaire crab cakes as stretching for the marathon the next day. Plus, eating a giant meal the day before keeps from extraneous pre-meal snacking that is inevitably regretted.
  
• The newspaper. The biggest, freest newspaper of the whole year.
  
• The Black Friday sales that lure you to think about getting up at 3 am. And then you pass out after your 4:30 dinner until noon the next day and realize you've slept through the $200 laptop.
  
• Lounging. So. Much. Lounging.
  

Where even the minister gets the church giggles

Treza and I ventured to the local Unitarian church this morning to see what all the rage is about. I packed my bag with mittens and snarky cynicism ready to judge the non-judgers.
But wait? What?! How could a worship place out cynic us?!
It was the Thanksgiving service. They called all the kids up to the front of the church while one of the three ministers (Two of which are female. Woot.) where she went over the basic rules of being a guest at Thanksgiving dinner. There were poster boards with each lesson and a picture to match very obviously visually directed toward children.
These are the things I learned at the Unitarian Universalist church this morning:

1. Don't spread germs.
   
1. Picture: Child coughing into arm, also "Small Pox" with an X through it.
2. Try everything once.
1. Minister: "Even if it's something weird. Like veal." Mini: "I'm a vegetarian." Minister: "Then you don't have to try the veal. But you should try squash."
3. Don't chew with your mouth open.
4. Don't take more than your share.
1. Minister: "Or if you're a pilgrim from England or Holland, North America really isn't yours to take at all. But it's a little too late for that, isn't it kids?!"
5. Offer to help your hosts.
   
6. Don't complain if things are different than when you're at home.
7. Don't kidnap your hosts and sell them as slaves in Spain.
   

Preservatives!

Do you have any idea how long it takes one human being to go through an entire loaf of bread?
Challenging length of time to eat against length of time to mold is like Laser vs. Ice on American Gladiators. And length of time is Ice, so she will win. Every time.

Think about it.

Also, I got an email today from a friend who said that she found this and that it reminded her of me and she didn't know why.
Neither do I. Except maybe to unmask my love for the word tessellations and hate for unwarranted cheese overlappage.

Another productive day here in Girl Land.

Someone give me a pen

* "Keith is having a birthday party and I don't really want to go, but I'm thinking I should. You know, just go and get it on. Wait. I meant to say 'get it over with.' Shoot. Don't write that down."

"He lives in the hood."
"You grew up in rural Minnesota. Where is the hood?"
"Coon Rapids."

* "You could totally make drugs if you lived in a single."

"I love verb tenses."


*Said by a woman who wants to be a nun. Now re-read them.

What it must feel like to be Sandwich Lady

He speaks Creole and has a Haitian accent. He has a son who is the cutest little muffin you ever saw and is getting married in May. And he is the son of a nun*. A nun who has a doctorate. The same doctor nun who is president of my schoolplace.

I will accept "little sister" as the greatest term of endearment he will ever give to me.
I know, it's for the muffin. And your lovely fiance.


In other news, Mother called porn "girlie magazines" today. Should I be weeping tears of laughter or mortification? Because there are definitely tears.

*Adopted son. Chill out, Roman Caths.

Patron Saint of Assfaces (Praaay for ussss)

When everything that could go wrong went wrong in the office today, our disheartened and extremely stressed staff couldn't even be revived by candy, and this is a place where candy cures most things. But maybe because today all that was left was Almond Hershey Kisses and black licorice flavored salt water taffy. Nast.
Phones tied up, important people on hold, a car accident, broken printers and lost documents when the Archbishop walks in. This tiny man calms the entire room as he stands in the doorway, smiling with a bit of concern. He edges towards us as we all sheepishly shake his holy hands and introduce ourselves.

"This is our student worker, Megan."
"It's so nice to meet you, Archbishop" (or something totally lame like that, famous people make my thoughts blurry.)
"Megan! I have one of you in my car! "
A student? He has a student? Oh God. Gosh. Shit. !!!!.
"Megan and Sheila. They're my dogs!"
"Oh. Ohh! I thought...Nevermind."
"Yes. Well. It was nice meeting you!"

I walked out to his car and introduced myself to his dogs while he was in the meeting. They seem nice. And they could probably do my job much better than I. Or at least not make complete asses of themselves.