Funeral Break

I am working on a funeral for a dignified English-American woman for tomorrow. I think I will have to wear eye shadow, and stockings, and something will have to happen with this unruly hair. I can write a funeral in my sleep (keeping in mind I sleep 9.5 hours), but stockings? This is going to take awhile.

I rarely link on my blog. The dozen of you who read it seem to be using my words as case studies in your Psychology of Oddballs class, so I hate to disappoint you or threaten your GPA but I have a lot of work to do tonight.

I was sent this link today from a family I served in the last year or so and I like it immensely. Imagine some offbeat Southern expressions, a rock n' roll reference, and a funny story about sex and it could have been written by me.

Oh no! I can't put any of those things in tomorrow's funeral. I will be up ALL NIGHT.

Whatever Mantra Gets You Through the Day

Did you get a look at the bodyguard for the Australian Prime Minister today? I want to be that guy.
The Australian PM, Julia Gillard, was surrounded by an angry group of aboriginal protesters and security decided that it would be best for her to leave quickly. As a part-time protester, I can't help but wonder about the history of poor communication there, but that's a subject for another day.

So off the PM goes with the riot police and the bodyguards.

Almost 50 Ways to Be Late

In an effort to look on the bright side, I have decided to view my punctuality issues as a gift.

There are many of you who are no doubt plagued with the curse of habitually being on time, or worse - early. You have been looking for a savior. I am here for you. Follow my simple tips and you will never find yourself seeing all the previews, getting the best seats, or waiting for others again.

(Caution: These steps do not work for Germans or Swedes who seem to be wired for punctuality. Even I am on time in Berlin.)

Days, Memories, and the Moon Rolls Round

"Welcome to the worst twelve months of your life."
This was my family physician's response to news that my husband and I had separated, thus earning him the nickname of Dr. Smiley from now on.

There's only one way to take a comment like that from someone you respect greatly: be thankful that five months of it are out of the way.