At Least I Don't Have an Unexpected Sicilian Baby. That Would Be Hard To Explain.

Image via Wikipedia

So, the last two days I've approached this blog like I would the high dive at the local pool. I'm all suited up, I've given myself the "you can do it!" pep talk, but here I am still at the bottom of the metal steps, looking up. It's a long way up there.

It just takes a little faith, right?, some resolve, and I could climb up, stand on the springy diving board, knees wobbling. Then I could peer timidly over the edge, see all the people at the bottom waiting impatiently, some quietly snickering. Some of the boys would have already figured out that once I cannonball off this thing, I'm going to lose my bikini top in the twelve-foot pool, and I'll be forced to kick kick kick down, holding my panicked breath to retrieve it from it's watery resting place at the bottom. And once I get it I still won't be able to put it back on in the water without bobbing up on the surface. I think that maybe another time would be better, maybe tomorrow, and I creep back to the stairs, and inch my way down to safety.

I just haven't been able to do it.

I have nothing to say, because my life is cage-like at the moment. The kids are in a play this summer (Oliver!), and the rehearsal schedule for them is crazy. This means we don't go anywhere because there's always another rehearsal coming in a couple of hours. The dog and I have spent a lot of time groaning and getting fatter just lying around, waiting for it not to be 110 degrees outside so we can go to the grocery store. And then it's, hurry up!!! we have three minutes to get there!! and then sometimes I have to sit at the theater and wonder in my head how I'm going to convince my son to wear blush and eye-liner on stage, and my mind goes somewhere else where there are no words, only resignation, and the vague desire for donuts.

This last weekend I actually ordered a dumpster from the city garbage guys, and spent two days finding things to put in it, and then hiding what I put in from the rest of the family, especially the Formerly Bearded One, who has been known to retrieve junk from the trash and relocate it back in the garage for some secret high-priest garbage ceremony. Sometimes I have to throw things out in the middle of the night, or enlist the help of the neighbor's garbage bin to prevent trash from reappearing magically. " I can't believe you're throwing that out!" someone will cry. "It's a perfectly good left snow shoe/brown head of lettuce/lint ball/broken bike basket/insert other options here!"

So that's been the highlight of my summer so far.

I have vacation envy. Everyone else (I'm looking at you Carolyn..Online!!) is traveling willy-nilly, seeing colorful people, and sandy beaches, and the open road. They're Making Memories That Will Last a Lifetime.

I want Memories That Will Last a Lifetime too.

One interesting point: I have this new thing attached to Firefox called Zemanta that helpfully supplies suggested images and tag for blog entries. I've never used it, but here are a couple of images Zemanta thinks would go well with my current subject matter:

Image by rsgranne vi

Image via Wikipedia

Image by Getty Images via Dayl

Clearly I have done an excellent job expressing myself.

I was going to write a post just like Steamy's, because I'm all hero-worshipy over here, and I think I need more controversial content in my blog so people will love me.

I'm becoming the Aunt Bea of Blogging is what I mean. That can't be good.

So I tried really hard to get my dog to let me lift his tail so I could take pictures of his anus, just like she did. I even crooned him a little lullaby and stroked his weary dog brow to make him sleepy, but none of it worked. Terriers are relentlessly high-alert, even in their sleep.

And then I thought about taking a picture of poop, either mine, or someone else's (what about a gas station rest room?! Eww..) but I'm just not advanced enough in the art of shockblogging yet. I think I may need some lessons.

Instead, we went for a walk. Along the way I saw this and filmed it for you all. It is not the same as Steamy's cell phone footage (hers is frighteningly glisten-y and not for the faint of heart) but it's reminiscent of dog butt, I think.









Baby steps.