Day Three
Mood: Harried

Need to make sure I post something. Going to meet PFunky who’s in town for the weekend and not sure I’ll be back by midnight (hee hee midnight). Promise I’ll have more to add later. Just wanted to make it official.

The topic on my mind…friends.

Day 2 and I still have something to say.

So today is the day. Thirty consecutive days of posts. I think I’m up to the challenge, though I can’t promise any level of quality for thirty days in a row.

When I went into labor for the first time, a friend reminded me that there was no merit badge to be gained by delivering without drugs. A smart women she is; however, I think anyone who delivers or raises a child deserves truck loads of merit badges.

When I am the benevolent ruler of the world to all (except to the few who have done me wrong for they will suffer by being duct taped to a chair naked and forced to listen to an endless loop of Rick Astley, Yanni and Kenny G), I will mandate the use of thank you waves when people let you cut in front of them in traffic. For there is nothing more annoying than kindly allowing a person to enter traffic in front of you only to have them drive away without so much as a wave.

Do you lock only your driver’s side door when you want to prevent your car from being stolen? Would you spend say $2k to $8k to put an alarm system that worked on that door only?

I have been trying to blog for days
Thinking of funny things I might say
But my mind is in a fog
With no ideas for me to blog

I could write about my kids
Funny things today that they did
But my words must be lost in a bog
‘Cause I cannot create this blog

So instead of writing something I might regret
And since nothing funny has come to my head yet
I will sit here like a bump on a log
And post this poem as my blog…

Last night I had a dream that I made out with Hugh Laurie…and he was a GOOOOD kisser. Don’t my dreams know that I have a thing for Patrick Dempsey?

The closest I’m ever going to get to kissing PD will be in my dream (even if he IS on my list–and he is for the record Shakey). Unfortunately, my brain did not cooperate. Stupid brain. Though I guess old Hugh wasn’t a bad understudy.

Hubby actually came up with his own blog name, which will make it more difficult for him to complain about it later. He’s selected Shakey. This is actually a moniker he picked up in college. Of course, when we started dating I became Mrs. Shakey to his friends…Frau Shakey. No one really shared the origin of the name until “Ger” came home for a visit.

Yeah, you SHOULD be thinking…Ger? What can I guy with a name like that be like? Well, apparently I met him after he reformed a bit, but he’s very much the bull in the china shop who has studied so much latin that he can kick your ass at Scrabble when he’s so drunk he doesn’t know his own name.

So Ger was home for a visit and found out I didn’t know the origin of “Shakey.” He was so excited that he was going to be the one to get to tell me the story. The problem was that he was enjoying the story in his own head so much that he couldn’t stop laughing long enough to get it out. He would get a few sentences into it and then fall back into this hysterical cackle and have to wipe the tears from his eyes. I was laughing so hard just watching him that when the entire story came out the it was like opening the most beautiful package on Christmas morning and finding underwear inside.