My dearest denizens of the Blogosphere, today is a day of great importance*. For one, this is my 350th post on Ye Olde Blogge, which seems an occasion momentous enough to merit mention. For another, despite the fact that this has been The Busiest Week Like Ever And I Mean It, I’m actually posting this entry on time. Apologia if you are sad to miss my usual apologia preface, and please, let’s all just ignore the fact that this means I am sitting on my couch on a Friday night drinking Crystal Light and waiting for Dateline.
That seems a good enough note from which to move to my photos for this week …
Day 154: Today was, apparently, terribly difficult for Alice B. Toklas. Terribly, terribly difficult. It seems that since I broke my foot and had to stop using the office as my workplace, it became not my office but Alice B. Toklas’ Room And Officially. When I tried to use the office as my office, Alice did not react well. In fact, she reacted so poorly that I finally retreated to the living room to work — and so did Alice, practically melting into a puddle of fur, paws, and utter despair after her successful bid to keep me out of her room.
Day 155: The good news is that even after my four-month poem-or-something-a-day-athon, my brain is still making ideas. The bad news is that said ideas emerge from said brain in the form of these kinds of half-formed, admittedly-bizarre notes on the various whiteboards posted throughout my house.
Day 156: Listen. We’ve been having the kind of terrible, wet, hot, “close” weather that turns my hair into the kind of puffy frizz-ball hair product commercials haven’t even dreamed of. In fact, I spent the afternoon of this day prowling the hair care aisles of K-Mart in search of Cholesterol conditioner and Pink’s hair lotion. However, this is the kind of weather that yields toadstools, so I decided, for my photo of the day, to look at the bright side. Nothing makes me squee more than a toadstool. I mean, there could be Smurfs ANYWHERE if toadstools are around.
Day 157: “But Emma,” you may well be thinking, “aren’t these approximately the same shoes you wore every day from the years of 1993 – 1998, including at such occasions as your Confirmation at Our Lady of Sorrows Catholic Church, your high school graduation, and maybe even a funeral or two?” Yes. Yes they are. They are indeed. Except sometimes I wore flowered Doc Martins. And sometimes I wore snake-skin print Doc Martins. And sometimes I wore purple Doc Martins. And I wouldn’t be surprised if any or all of those shoes soon joined these in my closet. Please just don’t tell my mom, okay?
Day 158: As I was walking to class this morning, I saw this random flower blooming against some kind of strange metal box thing next to the sidewalk. I stopped, walked back, and snapped a quick photo — and I’m glad I did, as the flower had vanished by this morning.
Day 159: Another thing I noticed while walking on my way to class — and this one’s a poem, and such a catchy one that it was stuck in my head for the rest of the day.
*I just typed “grate” instead of “great,” and I am proud both because I caught that typo (finally) before I published this post AND because it works punningly well with my photo for today.
