I’ve Got Nothing
Hi guys,
Hubby is away on a 10-day conference on the other side of the globe and I am alone with our two kids. This makes me muse over a blog entry entitled: “Ode To Single Parents” – I’ve just been too busy scraping gunk off the floors to get around to writing it.
Last weekend, I went to a school reunion and saw people I haven’t seen in 22 years. It was a thoroughly existentialistic experience. And there is definitely a blog entry in THAT! Just haven’t quite gotten up the moxy to write it.
And the other day my parents came by and basically used me as a couple’s counsellor (HE thinks SHE is having a fling and SHE thinks HE is paranoid! My parents tell me these things!! No wonder I’m fucked up!) which leads me to think thoughts about aging and the relationship between children and parents and how, once we’re all adults, it’s like the kids are the grownups and the parents are teenagers, that should be slapped. Hard. There is a blog entry in that too but as you’ve probably figured out by now…. I’m pooped.
So while I get my shit together, I’ll leave you with someone who IS – unlike me – funny, interesting or simply freakish:
The world’s fattest woman (phew, not me!) wants to loose weight:
http://www.people.com/people/article/0,,20525878,00.html
A hilarious poem that I wish I wrote because I can relate:
http://www.scarymommy.com/wake-the-fuck-up/
A really cool video:
http://maddowblog.msnbc.msn.com/_news/2011/09/06/7632664-best-noon-thing
Really funny stuff:
http://www.happyplace.com/4134/worlds-most-entertaining-windshield-notes
So peeps, sorry that you once “Liked” me on Facebook and that I then don’t put out.
I wish I had something for you but I’ve got nothing. Like the nun told the sailor!
I still think that YOU are a wonderful person and I want you to know that you are worthy and deserving of all the love in the universe, all the joy and happiness. Because you are a unique and special person. And I hope you have a glorious day.
Bah!
-Cinda
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Dear Cinda,
We understand.
We all have “periods” that render us unable to “put out.” But this does not disappoint.
I’m having trouble restraining myself from equating this to a time-of-the-month blowie. Forgive me.
Wabs
Dear Wabs,
Well, aren’t you a naughty wabbit?
Grrrr,
Cinda