Month: November 2020

I was supposed to know how to do everything by my second rodeo. That seems like a very low number of rodeos. But, alas, I manage. As the dreaded holidays are approaching, I’m comforted in knowing I have the excuse of all excuses. Remember when you were supposed to ‘avoid’ someone like the plague? Now I get it! My elder dearest was right after all! I have a very small group of dearests. Around this time of year, it seems like everyone else has a herd to deal with. And I have a pea in a peck. Or peas. Or whatever that even means. But now when I need the perfect bubble, I think I’ve got a leg up on everyone. Why do these weird sayings keep popping into my head and finger tips. My legs are crossed and down. Anyway, my little grouping, for the first time, seems about right. We don’t have to travel. Well, a bit. I mean we can’t walk. And we are fairly(?) careful in dealing with the masses of a$$es. Or at least we tell each other that. Until the buts. But I went out to eat last night. But I went to play tennis. But I had to get my wifi fixed. Butbutbut. But, I like big butts and I cannot lie. I’ve blogued before about my f*ckit list. No old person bucket list for this chic. However, my f-it bucket is getting quite full. Just realizing all the more things I don’t have to do. And I do like that feeling. Nope. Pass. Not today. Tomorrow’s not looking to good either. See where I’m going, or not going with this? Kind of refreshing actually. Perhaps, I can enjoy looking at a decorated tree for once and not go dashing out the door. Ok. I haven’t ‘dashed’ in a long time but it’s the day of weird sh*t popping in my head. Must be the nostalgia of the season, or having an older Manfriend. (He is not going to like this tell-all and could certainly ruin the season of lovvvvve. And my presents.). Just joking. Or something like that. Butbutbut now that song about big ones is stuck in my head and I can’t think of a way to wrap this up. You know Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and Vixen, Comet and Cupid and Donner and Blitzen. And Rudolph, of course! #hopethatbubbleholds#speakingofbigbutts

That’s funny. I don’t remember eating a sexy beast this morning. Guess it’s just one of those annoying sayings that got too much traction and now we are stuck with it. I find myself using the words ‘sh*t show’ significantly more than I used to. Dare I say it’s here to stay? Please be just the phrase, not the show. As the year is winding down, it gives a person a chance to reflect on all the wonderful things that have happened. Gotcha! Everyone is doing the best they can. Which is terrifying. I feel like my life is out of control, and no amount of chocolate can rein it in. (So not true. I’m sure there is.). I used to love Christmas shopping. Not for others of course. It was the one time of year I’d venture to a mall and see all the things I had missed. And needed. And wanted. I’d come home with my arms aching from carrying too much, and remember why I love delivery. But it would be mine, all mine. Now in the year of the (dare I say it) sh*t show, I have nowhere to go. No parties or gatherings. No work functions where I could be adored. No need for pretty things. My jewelry is rotting, and my halo is tarnishing. I’m sure my fancy shoes no longer fit. Soon I’ll just be spreading into the box. Even my blogues have lost their luster. And no one loves them as much as I do. I want to give my millions of fans some enlightenment, but got nothin. I do have one tidbit! Apparently, you can’t use ‘beefstew’ as a password. It isn’t stroganoff. Hahahahahahahaha. You may smile.

Full, declarative sentence. And that’s about all I’ve got. I pride myself (got autocorrected to ‘shelf’ which was actually pretty funny if you are the kind of person that has pride in their shelves) on always having something amazing to do/be/thinkabout/share/andsoonandsoforth. Who needs hashtags? So when nothing was calling me this morning or on the agenda I got rattled. I am always in the middle of a good or adequate book. Or sucky, which was what I finished yesterday and haven’t been called by another yet. The ‘breaking news’ is not, so my morning shows were lame. When the Bachelorette and who got booted from Dancing with the Stars are the lead stories, I know I’m short for the show. And who even watches that crap ugh. (Sorry sorry I know you do and love it). There are always house things that can be piddled at, but when you’re already bored that’s the last thing to do. Which explains all those stuffed closets that will live in that same habitat. It’s a beautiful day! I’m outside in November, and despite having to wear hiking boots to wade through the leaves, I can make it to this outside table. As the writer Elbert Hubbard said, “Positive anything is better than negative nothing.” So I’m trying here. The Plague is slowing my roll. And as much as I love to share this blogue with my millions of followers, I know this one is boring. But yet I can’t stop myself haha. Suffer with me. Keep reading. I’ve got all day. Will be brilliant next time. You just wait…..

There is a new form of recreation out there that doesn’t involve disrobing. I realized I’ve been doing it all my life, but never knew it had a catchy name. I love to be outside. There. I said it. Ain’t nothin wrong with that. Of course, now that I watched a news story about it I must take it more seriously. No more just going out in the morning and sitting on top of the rickety, old metal swing set. (How I never got tetanus from that thing….). Now when I go out I have to ‘listen’ with my eyes. And smell with my ears or whatever. Take it seriously. So seriously. I am a walker. I’ve put in the miles over the years, and credit those gazillion steps with keeping my sanity (ish). I wasn’t bathing exactly, but my psyche got cleansed in an odd way. Now since everyone this year discovered the parks, I’ve rerouted to neighborhoods, and have enjoyed a different kind of scenery. And critique. No more peaceful walks. Full on judgement zone. You need shutters. Landscaping. A nicer dog. Not good. But pretty fun actually. Maybe not quite the bath I need, but clears the trash out of my head and makes room for new trash. (I have lofty goals.). I like being one with nature. I just wish I liked vegetables. Or gardening. Think that would up my game a bit. I need to be a little more Walden, but not the one from Two and a Half Men that ruined that show. (What a great show that was when Charlie Sheen was on it. Still watch it wayyy toooo much). Which is why I need outside. And bathing. As Thoreau wrote, “Only that day dawns to which we are awake”. Now I have no clue what that means, but I feel very earthy having used it. And refreshed. Did I mention I have lofty goals?