Oooo, I’ve been a bad blogger. Totally slacking off to be sure. It’s not for lack of having anything to write about as much as it is the disinclination to complete whatever thought the mice in my brain have been cooking up. Since last I wrote, I have begun no less than 15 posts, and all of them sit there for me, like old aunties patiently waiting for some attention.

So here’s the highlight reel of what’s been going on in my brain for the last thirty days:

Thanksgiving: Sailor and I visited Detroit and I was working on an entry that would cast the characters of a certainly twisted little film about the subject. I wrote no further than casting Dr. Horrible as friend Kennedy and Edna Mode as my other friend Hansen. Sailor will be portrayed by Gerard Butler in 300…of course.

Iceland: the economy here may be bad, but I’m glad I’m not living in Iceland presently. I think Icelanders should exact revenge on the world credit markets by becoming Vikings…again…

blog_skinnyjeansSkinny Pants on Men: VETO! I am China on the UN Security Council of men wearing skinny pants, particularly when said pants ride below your ass line. Rock star or not, it just looks bad. Let’s ponder this for a moment: big pants with no belts resulted in the fashion trend of baggy jeans around ones thighs. This is does not however naturally or organically flow into skinny jeans following the same logic. What is to be assumed, however, is that, dude, your ass is too big for your drawers to cover them so either get to the gym, lay off the fries or invest in bigger sizes!!!

Visiting Detroit: Always entails furthering Sailor’s Motown education while on the road. Hey, we’re locked in a car for 4 hours, when else am I going to get the chance? At the rate we’re going, I’ll be in the grave before he can have an intelligent conversation of enduring legacy of Marvin Gaye or the evolution of Gospel music into modern pop.

Cubicle Mates:engaging in noisy habits like eating apples at work. I sooooo love listening to you slurp and chomp and gurgle your food. Please do me favor and get a knife to either fall upon or to cut up your damn fruit.

Dirty Pirates: an occupational hazard of being married to a sailor is that you watch a lot of pirate movies. Saw Pirates of the Carribean for the umpteenth time and am still amazed at it’s appalling ability to inspire in me the desire to have dirty pirates babies.

Sailor being home for the winter: Long story short, he likes to spy on my secret-single-grooming behavior and my desire for intimacy only goes so far. It’s not like Sailor hasn’t seen me without make-up or my hair bedraggled, it’s just I rather he not see the trans-formative process involved in making me presentable to the public. I’d rather he continue to believe in magic, Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, and the Tooth Fairy.

Dead deer on the highways: holy crap do they make a mess! Like Carrie on prom night, the blood is freaking everywhere…

and lastly:

Lessons Learned from Re-Visiting a Small Southern Town:

1. It’s sometimes hard to remember the reasons we left.

2. When I remember those reasons, I remember they were damn good ones.

3. Southerners have the best names like Bootsy and Trout, and those are just the first names.

4. Nothing funnier than Dubliners operating a proper pub in the South catering to red neck motorcycle gangs.

5.  Got-damn there ain’t nothin like Southern Hospitality!

6. My status in said town has finally been downgraded from Damn Yankee to just Yankee.

7. In a town so small, the changes that do occur seem enormous.

8. I forgot how much fun local gossip can be.

9. I also forgot how fast news is spread.

10. Given #9, I really should have stopped drinking sometime around midnight.

11. Given #9 and #10, people were surprisingly accommodating in keeping their voices down in my presence the next day.

…and I think that about gets you up to speed…I can’t believe I would have turned any of these into a full length post. Time to get deleting…

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