Hooray for Canned Food!!

Mr. Bump just left a wee bit ago. He was visiting me for the weekend, and we spent an indordinate amount of time watching the show House M.D. on DVD. Mr. Bump is not much of a vidiot, meaning he just doesn't watch tv much. He gets excited about books on economics and statistics (barf.), to the point where he can't speak or look at me for fear that his head might explode if he breaks the loving and committed gaze with the book he's been shmooing with since breakfast. I keep telling him he has a problem, but he just won't admit it.

Anyway, apart from said books, I have rarely seen Mr. Bump attach to something so immediately and intensely. Mr. Bump has taken to this show like a leach attaching to a hemophiliac. We managed to get through six episodes (back-to-back) in less than 12 hours. This is sick. I mean, we enjoyed it, and didn't even think about stopping, but it is sick, nonetheless. Also, the fact that Mr. Bump enjoyed this particular sitcom is not to say that he didn't interject comments (at a breathtaking 4.5 second interval) along the lines of "no immunologist on earth does their own ultrasounds" and "pfhm, you never hold that in your left hand, this is so fake." This was not at ALL annoying. Not even a little bit. I tried to suggest that if someone were to make a sitcom out of days from his work, they could actually euthanize people by making them watch it, and voila, less work to do! This had little effect on the rate or quality of commentary issuing forth from his pie-hole. Looking back, he may not have realized I was in the room.

In other news, my extensive fan club (ha! This blog is Top Secret! Google will not help you! If you have stumbled here by mistake, you will be visited in the night by a team of experts who will remove your...oh, right. I can't talk about that.) will no doubt be interested to know that it does not appear that anything exciting will happen this Valentine's Day. It appears that proposing on Valentine's Day is "too cliche". Whatever, dude. Groundhog's Day? Hello? Other missed opportunities: January is National Prune Breakfast Month, National Oatmeal Month, and National Bread Machine Baking Month. C'mon! Where. Is. The. Love. ?? But rest easy, Mr. Bump, February is National Canned Food Month. And we have Wave All Your Fingers At Your Neighbor Day (Feb. 7, because most people only wave one finger at their neighbors, obviously.), Umbrella Day (Feb. 10), National Battery Day (Feb. 18) and National Hoodie Hoo Day (Feb. 20, wtf is a hoodie hoo?) to look forward to. (You can play, too! Find stupid holidays at http://www.holidayinsights.com/moreholidays/)
I started this out not so much to bust Bump's balls, but more to comment on his rationale. However, having typed the last paragraph, I now realize that there are other humanoids in the world whose actions and underlying rationales for inventing the lamest possible holidays EVER are in more desperate need of smacks upside the head than Mr. Bump is.

Good thing National Do A Grouch A Favor Day is coming up...

Surviving February

So, hi.

Nothing is new, other than my unshakable case of the blahs. I attribute this to the fact that it is February, which means we've survived January, but it's not Spring yet.

So, what to say here....I have no adorable children with amusing and entertaining antics or excrement to comment on.

I don't even have amusing pets.

I have plants.... but they're not very charismatic. They just sit in dirt and grow quietly. This is more or less what I've been feeling like doing lately. Hey, it's better than starting to look like your purse poodle, so shut up.

In my line of work, sitting in the dirt is something that happens when the weather warms up, and whilst one is sitting in dirt, one does not think introspective thoughts or feel particularly restful. So apart from sitting in dirt, here are some of the things that are making February survivable.

Reading
The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd
What a raw, powerful and overwhelmingly great book. Especially if you ever had a mom. Each chapter leaves you stinging, and wanting more.

Listening
Nino Rojo by Devandra Banhart
Sweet, like a bird song. Fresh, like a the way a baby's head smells. Totally absorbing.
The Avett Brothers
My favorite boy band. Punk Folk. Or something. It's not punk. It's not folk. It's simply addictive. If I say anything else, I'm going to sound like a poser, so here I stop.

Wearing
Philosophy's Hope in Jar-- I thought the name was a bit immodest, and then I put some on my face and I felt.... soothed. Also available as part of a great kit.

Wanting
Itty bitty pretty. Aahhhh, Spring! Around my neck!


See you in March.