Although this hit the internet several weeks ago, I'm still charmed by the incredibly great monkey self-portraits taken in Indonesia.
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Best Practices from Pot Dealers
A couple of days ago, I took public transportation to a Doctor's appointment. There were about 4-6 guys behind me on the bus engaged in conversation. As their conversation was loud, I quickly realized I was listening to drug dealers. Not really alarmed, I then realized that they were sharing "best practices" in the drug industry and not trying to one up each other as I originally thought. Anyway, I left the bus a little amused by what I overheard.
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
What I Learned over the Weekend
1) That our dog, 13 year old Lady died.
2) My friend had no idea that Japan and the U.S. was playing the final in the Women's World Cup. Ironically, my friend is half Japanese and at least her father was following the game closely.
3) When my mom went to put a cover over Lady, Lady jumped up. Both my mom and the dog were surprised.
4) I've been asked to teach Sunday School. The best part about this assignment? No class to teach.
2) My friend had no idea that Japan and the U.S. was playing the final in the Women's World Cup. Ironically, my friend is half Japanese and at least her father was following the game closely.
3) When my mom went to put a cover over Lady, Lady jumped up. Both my mom and the dog were surprised.
4) I've been asked to teach Sunday School. The best part about this assignment? No class to teach.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Poetry Thursday
Joy
Today I sit on the sun porch
with my body, just the two of us
for a change, the flu
having left me for someone else.
I'm thinking about how good it is
to have been sick, to have been turned
inside out. Until we are sick, says Keats,
we understand not. and for four or five days
I understood. Fully and completely.
There was absolutely no ambiguity,
no misunderstandings of any sort whatsoever.
For awhile I thought I'd never get better.
I'd be that sick eagle, staring at the sky
on a permanent basis. But
we're living in the age of miracles:
another jetliner smacked into New York,
only this time nobody got hurt. A black guy
thoroughly fumigated the White House.
And this morning I woke up
feeling like a little French village
the Nazis suddenly decided to pull out of
after a particularly cruel occupation.
The baker has come back to his store
and everything smells like warm baguettes.
The children are playing in the schoolyard,
the piano bars along the river
have thrown open their doors.
And here you are, with coffee
and an open blouse, and two cool breasts
from the land of joy.
with my body, just the two of us
for a change, the flu
having left me for someone else.
I'm thinking about how good it is
to have been sick, to have been turned
inside out. Until we are sick, says Keats,
we understand not. and for four or five days
I understood. Fully and completely.
There was absolutely no ambiguity,
no misunderstandings of any sort whatsoever.
For awhile I thought I'd never get better.
I'd be that sick eagle, staring at the sky
on a permanent basis. But
we're living in the age of miracles:
another jetliner smacked into New York,
only this time nobody got hurt. A black guy
thoroughly fumigated the White House.
And this morning I woke up
feeling like a little French village
the Nazis suddenly decided to pull out of
after a particularly cruel occupation.
The baker has come back to his store
and everything smells like warm baguettes.
The children are playing in the schoolyard,
the piano bars along the river
have thrown open their doors.
And here you are, with coffee
and an open blouse, and two cool breasts
from the land of joy.
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