February Vacation

We haven’t gone anywhere scenic yet, have we?

Well, don’t worry - we’re going someplace really nice this year...

(worth the wait, huh?)

Sign up below! ;-)

That's it for February Fragments.

Stayed tuned for Q&A March!

Peevish Since 1971

After all,

he liked that he could remember his own name there…

Why ignore the horse?

Really, dude.

Trending...

Reality.

The Adult Epidemic.

From The Corner of My Eye

The Enquirer often gets me, too.

Like everyone, I have a brain that likes to play tricks on me - and one of its favorites is to misrepresent the words I see in my peripheral vision.

Like the time I thought my local grocer was trying to sell me fish from Palestine. Which, upon second look, turned out to be from pristine waters.

The lab machine that warned, “Hemostat - Do Not Use With Garlic” (snappily wheeled away before I could sort that one out)

That McDonald’s sign offering, “More Alligator Biscuits” (???) (no clue)

Or the technical report that I swore informed me that “dick shots are enabled for the server…” 

   (*disk*, Jz, *disk*…”)

Sometimes, however, it’s not my brain playing tricks.

Sometimes what we have is a genuine failure of the written word...

       or more precisely, of the writer. 

(Not gonna link, but I promise, this is a genuine citation.)

West-African Style Chicken Soup 

Ingredients:

    1 onion, diced

    2 carrots

    2 t minced garlic

    1 t thyme

    1 scotch bonnet

    1 t paprika

    1 bay leaf

    5 C broth

    1 t all spice

    1 Coyote, cut in large chunks

    1 flavor packet cock soup

???????????????????????????????

Now, I can find coyote in large chunks - that's common enough alongside the highway… 

But cock soup? That one's got me stumped…

          (Think I can convince anyone to let me simmer theirs in boiling water?)

chayote
The "h" is silent... and the o's an "a"

He is not amused by soup jokes...

*nod, nod*

I like this one.

It’s kind of the Baby Bear of inspirational quotations.

You know, not too optimistic, not too pessimistic…

I don’t have to kill anyone for being too cheery,

Or shoot them for making me cry…

yup.

It’s Juuust Right.

;-D

Truth in Astrology

               Yeah…

                     yesterday?

               If the world were just, I would be a millionaire now.

               just sayin'...

Recalcitrant Horses

SP was quizzing me the other day about the possibility that BG & I might work something out … basically playing a little bit therapist and a little bit devil’s advocate. It was sweet and very much appreciated and, given the past history of the “Jz & BG” saga, completely understandable. But at the risk of proving myself a fool some time in the future, I’m going to go all definite on your asses and declare that this time it’s over for good.

It has to be, really - because this time, there are no extenuating circumstances to excuse the wrong turns. Previously, reconciliation may have been a risk but I was not actually diminishing myself by saying, “ok, let’s try again.” 

This time, I would be. 

This time, I would not be able to respect my own decision - 

        And if I couldn’t, how in the world could I expect him to?

So, I can’t go there, no matter how much I wish I could.

Instead, I work on getting past the mourning stage - which is never a fast process. Three months into this nonsense and I’m still stopping several times a day to breathe deeply and blow out the pain. Because I miss him. 

Through all the ups and downs, BG and I never fought, could always have honest discussions, and never failed to have a lot of fun when we were together. We teased and laughed and just generally got along like a house a-fire. In terms of two people simply being together, we were a great match. 

"I'm pulling... are YOU pulling?"

However, when it came to the growth of our relationship, we turned into that team at the horse pull… You know, the pair that looks well-matched, who both seem to be trying their darndest… but who just never get their game on at the same time. They lurch and halt, playing their own personal game of pushme/pullyou from each side of the harness until they stall into panting, sweating immobility.

That was us.

Eventually, (and unhappily,) we lost faith in each other. I think all the jostling just plain wore us out.

“Recalcitrant Horses:

The Story of A Love Gone Wrong”