Dear Diary,
Today I made Christmas cards for my neighbors.
Card #1:



Card #2:



Card #3:



Card #4:


And... Card #5:









...exposing it all
in the most non-naked sense
of the word...
Dear Diary,
Today I made Christmas cards for my neighbors.
Dear Diary,
Standing Rib Roast. Those were the words on a grocery store sign I passed by on the way home. I was so delirious and ready to be home by then, that I imagined a little slab of meat standing on puny cartoon legs. What exactly is a standing rib roast, anyway? Ribs are part of the torso; they don't have legs!
Then I started to think about roast. Why, exactly did we decide that the word roast should become a noun? It's a verb. If you roast something, it becomes a roast. If you toast something it becomes toast. But why doesn't this work for every verb? How come when you pilot a new idea it doesn't become a pilot and start whizzing off in a plane? Or when you jump on a box, why doesn't it become 'box jump'?
English is weird. So am I. We are quite the pair.
Here's a doodle I made at work:
Dear Diary,
I'm grateful for all the people who stopped by this thing to vote on the poll. I wasn't expecting a response, so it was awesome. It's all about keeping low expectations.
Unfortunately, I didn't follow that advice with some cookies a student gave me as a Christmas [or "winter holiday"] present. The gift was very sweet, the cookies looked adorable, but I'm pretty sure in at least one or two of the batches, one or more of the chefs mistook sand for flour or salt for sugar. That jivvy was special.
Dear Diary,
The parakeets yawned as predicted.
I found that article quite intriguing but, man, that line made me laugh! Today I've been a burnt out kind of tired; I'm seriously thankful that I've got four more days of work before a respite from it all. Well, most of it, anyway.
So last night I was crying my eyeballs out again because I'm a moody, neurotic musician and it's wired into my genes. Actually, I was sitting at the piano sight-reading some awesome duet music, then I started singing some songs, and I was taken back to when I was a kid singing traditional songs with my family. That, in turn, reminded me that not only do I not have a family of my own, but odds are I never will; I have no one to hand my song down to. That made me super depressed, and sleep just was not an option for several hours after that. Needless to say, I was really tired at work.