Who Has the Most Beautiful "Niece" in All the Land?

ME!

Beautiful Mom=Beautiful Baby... It's genetics, people!

Dull

Nothing new, just loads and loads of freaking out. I mean, real honest to goodness, freaking out. The likes of which I haven't experienced since...well, since about a year ago, amidst all the moving, settling in hubbub. When I wake up, this is what goes through my mind,

"AHHH! Good sleep...wait, what day is it?!? Do I have to work today...DID I MISS MY BUS!?!? Hey, Brody. Where's Opal? zzzzzzzzz. Oh shit, what do I have to do today? Wait, am I supposed to study? LSAT, LSAT, LSAT. Law school...LAW SCHOOL LAW SCHOOL LAW SCHOOL LAW SCHOOL. Whose idea was this? Money. No money. I have to pee. zzzzzzzzzz. Hungry."

I think I'm just experiencing the pre-summer visits/excursions stress. Hopefully it will pass when everything is over... and on the proactive side, I've made a list of things to do (as suggested by the madre), so maybe my morning routine won't be quite so full of freak outs if I just stick to the list...and stop wasting my time on the computer.

Revenge

As I was arranging the last post, Opal, whose psychic powers I have already discussed here, came into my bedroom scooting her little butt on the carpet. Given the previous minute's litter box scraping noises, and the pervasive smell of fresh cat shit, it could only mean one thing. Of course, I try to grab her as quickly as possible. But, because she knows what's coming, and is quite naturally freaked out by the giant turd stuck to her, she runs from me...scooting all the way. Run, run, run. Scoooooooot! Run, run, run. Scooooooooot! Until I catch her, and try first to pick it off with wadded up toilet paper, but it's stuck pretty good, so I wash it off in the sink...with my hands. If that's not love, I don't know what is. Although, I guess I technically didn't do it for love so much as saving the floors from being covered with even more shit.

Why I Will Have to Buy New Blinds When I Move

My New Catchphrase

"I'm so broke. If I were a superhero, my superpower would be being broke."

Overheard on the Bus

This guy was listening to either a teeny, tiny boom-box, or seriously damaging his ears with his headphones. Either way, he was playing music that was audible to everyone on the bus. And this girl says, "I don't mean to be a bitch but could you turn that down?" And the guy does, and the next minute the girl gets on her phone and talks loud enough for the whole bus to know she's not getting along with her boss at work. So either she wanted him to turn down the music so she could hear her telephone call, or she didn't quite get the irony of the situation.

As a side note, I'm surprised the bus driver didn't say anything to the boom-box guy. She's usually a real hard ass and won't take any shit. She's so tough that I panic if I can't get my bus pass out of my wallet quick enough, I'm always afraid she's gonna drive off without me.

Feathered Friends my Ass

I finally did it, I dragged myself out of bed in the pre-dawn hours to go running before work. Okay, maybe not pre-dawn, but 7:20 AM is pretty damn early for me. I filled my water bottle, tightened my shoes, blasted my Killers music, ran out the door, turned the corner and... got attacked by a crow. What the hell! It wasn't like I turned the corner, and ran into a bird that happened to be flying on my same trajectory but in the opposite direction. HE ATTACKED ME! He dive-bombed me three times, screaming with that derisive crow screech. Did he think I was a predator, I mean I've seen crows do that to eagles, but me! And I would like to say to that crow..."You picked the wrong human to attack. I used to be on your side! And now you've ruined it for all the other crows. "

Some thoughts and theories from coworkers and friends:
-"Maybe he thought my hair was an animal to eat like owls that think women's ponytails are squirrels."
-"He probably had a nest nearby."
-"He was just having a bad day."
-"OH MY GOD!!!! CROWS REMEMBER YOUR FACE! You better be careful!"

Me, I think he was just commenting on my running form.

Credit Where Credit is Due

One of the things that makes me crazy about the book industry is the marketing of an author's name as opposed to their actual book.
Case in point...Stephen King. Can you even tell what the title of the book is? What if I wanted to read The Stand, I wouldn't be able to pick it out from all the other Stephen King titles. Not to mention the fact that I feel like the authors are shouting their names at me.

The latest convert to this self-aggrandizing. ego-maniacal BS is none other than chick-lit, mega-author Jodi Picoult. That's right, the "author" of such classics as My Sister's Keeper, and 19 Minutes would rather you buy books based on her name, not the actual content of her novels. Are you surprised? I know I am.

What brings this to my attention is the latest release from the Wonder Woman comic series, written by, you guessed it, Jodi Picoult. I will set aside the commentary that not just anyone who can string a coherent sentence together can write a comic. And I will postpone my judgment as to whether a "best selling" "novelist" can understand the complexities of timing and pacing necessary to write a successful graphic novel. I guess my real issue is, how many of you readers out there know who Wonder Woman is? And how many know Ms. Picoult?... Than why the hell is Jodi Picoult's name so god-damned big?!?!
On a side note, as I haven't read this particular graphic novel, I'm curious as to whether Wonder Woman faces some kind of drama concerning a suicide pact between two teenage lovers gone horribly wrong, or the realization that the man she loves, a commercial airline pilot who's plane crashes into the Atlantic, actually has a whole other family in Britian... oh wait, that was Anita Shreve. My apologies.

ONIONS!

Cooking with onions isn't just a danger to humans....

It's Official....

The most depressing book title...ever.