It Happened One Night

Or did it?



I saw this movie once and was surprised at how much I liked it. And how hot Clark Gable is in it. I see the big deal now.



I borrowed it from the library this week so I have it on again. There's a man yelling about getting your hot coffee. Gears switching to covet mode.



Tonight is just going to be random. Speeches escape me. Maybe tomorrow I will be so smitten with Gratitude that a post in calligraphy will appear with a Hallmark soundtrack.

It's incredibly odd to watch Clark Gable smoke in bed. I would be paranoid about falling asleep with the cigarette lit. Of course, I've gotten through many drunken nights (in my 20s) with the social cigarette and precariously close to sleep.

Black Friday is coming and I won't be buying my own thoughts for a penny. I oopsed into negative territory somehow, yet again. It's not that infiltrate all these high end stores trying to find the right texture cashmere either. I admit I did do some Christmas shopping last weekend but I thought I'd not spent THAT much. Ah well, live and learn, yet again. And again. And again.

Tomorrow I will be going to Organic's house with Humanling. First of course, we're going to have the parade on here and maybe I'll make some jewelry while that's on. Then we'll head over, do some social time and go for one of those fabulous walks out back, surrounded by plantlife.

Eventually I'll possibly maybe head to my mom's for a little bit to say hi.

I'm not huge on the whole surrond yourself with 90 people on the holidays thing. My favorite holidays are when I simply become the family rebel and let them all know that I'm staying home, thanks for the invite. That used to work better when I worked two jobs. They didn't like it but understood it more. I gave up the 2nd job eons ago (but probably would have kept it if I wasn't married to the jealous Turd at the time).

On another note, we watched A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving last night. Out of nowhere came a second special afterwards - "This is America Charlie Brown". It could be filed under Goth Peanuts. There was a fair amount of darkness in this special. I don't know why they bothered to use any color at all. It had disease, death, hardship. All those things they left out of the Thanksgiving show. Next year they need to show the traumatizing one first so that the happy one that ends with the Over the River song can offset the gloom.

I hope tomorrow is a fabulous day for you all. I'll be in front of the tv until Santa crosses the finish line.

Peanuts, Popcorn, Cracking Up

I don't know that you can read this bag, but its a bag of roasted peanuts IN the shell. How do they salt peanuts that are on the inside of a shell? No idea. What I do know is that we had a few of these last night while lying in bed. Humanling, being born of an extremely privledged era, never had to crack the shells before. We thought it would be fun in the way that buying a jiffy popcorn aluminum tin that puffs up on the stove top would be fun.

Shuffling around the kitchen tonight (yes shuffling. I am practicing so that when I'm eighty I have it down to a science) I decided to check out the peanuts since I'm in a munchie kinda mood. I took the first one out and it was one of those male ones...without the hourglass shape. Just a lump of a shell. I didn't feel like expending much energy on that so put it back (for who? Its just me and a nine year old up in this place. If I can't open it, next in line is the fire department down the road. Or my Organic friend. She's eerily strong and I feel like a complete infant trying to open a jar around her.) and took out a female. And a feather. A Farking feather. Holy carps alive.

Now I know we have a down blanket in the bedroom where we were eating the nuts last night but how can I be sure that this is OUR feather? I never see feathers in the bed. And I shouldn't see them in a bag of nuts, although I will say THANK GOD they are in their shells. Now I know why the back of the bag says "Good Source of Protein".

What I had a hard time doing after finding this nightmare to my soul in a bag, was following the happy bag's instructions to "Sit back, relax and enjoy!"

Um, no.

Was the feather to FAN myself while eating the peanuts? Was it to stick in my Yankee Doodle hat while not calling a spade a spade, but calling it Macaroni? Was it to tape to my wall so that I could imagine that I was on an island somewhere while eating my salted inside the shell peanuts and a seagull is flying by and drops a nasty arse feather into my lap?

I must have my OCD under some kinda control because normally I would have thrown the bag across the room and then waited for a friend to come over and clean it. Or go pick up Cavey sometime this week and have him throw it out.

I'm afraid that this whole incident is going to drive me to wash my hands fifteen more times and then have a cookie.