Sir Mix A Lot: 11
Richard Cheese: 7
Anyone else notice that if you reverse them you get 7-11? There was a day when I loved 7-11 (as in the convenience store). Let's all say Big Gulp, because I know you want to. As for me and my vote, I'm sincerely torn in this battle. I think the original by SMA is hilarious. If you haven't seen a group of skinny white chicks karaoke this song, you haven't laughed nearly as hard as I have. Funny, funny stuff. On the other hand, the arrangement by Richard Cheese also seriously tickles my funny bone. I guess I 'll vote with the majority on this one for Sir Mix A Lot (my vote doesn't count for anything anyway), but it was a tough call for me.
In other news...
- Thank you, Bryan, for pointing out in my comments on the last post that if I were a terrible or "wanna be" writer he wouldn't bother CPing for me. Ironically, that little gem infused me with some much needed inspiration to tackle my WiP again.
- However, I think there is something to be said for taking a break from your novel when you're in the very unproductive state of writing and deleting. Maybe that is a good time for thinking. Or reading a book by someone else. Or both.
- I just finished Paper Towns by John Green. I'm not sure I can continue to read his books. I'm consistently awed and amazed by how good he is. I then go a through a period of self loathing, wherein I can never write anything even close to that good. Followed by a period of telling myself that we all write differently and no matter what "I will never be John Green" and "the world doesn't need two John Greens anyway."
- My blogging has just sucked. My blog reading has sucked. I wish I could explain this in a satisfactory way. Alas, I cannot.
- I'm strongly considering going back to camp this summer. It sounds innocuous and not a bit scary, right? Wrong. This is a camp I grew up at. Loved. Haven't been to since 1992. It terrifies me on so many levels that I'm not sure I can even list them all. I wanted to go back about five years ago, but didn't because of my migraines. I'm still very worried that the pace of camp will be too much for me and that my migraines will flare up and I will be DOWN. I also fear that it won't be the same magical place I remember. Heck, I know it's changed. I've been to their website. It's changed. Yet, it's still the same. If that makes any sense at all.
- So, I've been dreaming about camp (literally and figuratively), thinking about camp, and trying to work up a strategy to 1) get through camp, while 2) loving going through camp. I'll keep you posted on this one. If I do go, it will mean three weeks this summer of no cell phone, no computer, no internet, no TV, no nothing. Me. Nature. God. Kids. Fun. That's it. It sounds freakin' wonderful, doesn't it????
- I wanted C-Man and H-Girl to go to camp. For one week. They couldn't live without their cell phones that long. Sigh. I wanted to say, but didn't, that they both say they believe in God and Jesus, but they weren't willing to give up their phones. Yet Jesus gave up his life. However, if it takes guilt to get them there, I'm not willing to do it. Jesus wasn't guilted into dying for us. It was a gift. You can either accept it or not. Simple as that. However, it made me think about the things I've been (and not been) willing to give up in my own life. Which makes it tough to throw any stones at anyone else.
- However, the disappointment remains that they will never have the great life-changing camp experience I had. Not because they couldn't have it, but they didn't want it.
- Last, but certainly not least, we are about to find out who is right about the man in my mother's life. Yes, I'm talking about the one she's been emailing with for the last six months or so. The one I'm sure is a scammer and she's sure is about to be her next husband. He's FINALLY saying he's leaving Australia (where he's been "trapped" by various and sundry issues that I only have vague notions regarding, because I wanted to stay out of that loop). Yesterday she tell me his flight is booked and he'll be here Wednesday night. This morning, she tells me that he said he went to pick up his boarding pass at the airline and was told that me might have some taxes to pay in order to leave. I was like "That is the biggest pile of bologna (thank you Oscar Meyer, or I'd never remember how to spell that word!) I've ever heard." Mom seemed to see the sense in my statement, but still has faith in the dude. Whatever. I'll eat a paper plate if he shows up. My money is on him needing money (from her) to "leave" the country.
- Alas, as you can see, there is disappointment aplenty to be had here. At our meals we pass the fried chicken and the disappointment. You don't get one without the other.