Happy Hour

It's Valentine's Day already. Seriously, I live on Hawaiian Time but it doesn't seem to matter because Regular-People-Time just keeps flying by. Why can't I just hang loose while the rest of my countrymen scurry around like rats on a wheel? Who needs all the stupid deadlines and timetables anyway? Once I am stopped up in an urn I'm not gonna care that I made it to the church on time or anywhere else for that matter. I mean, who eulogizes about how dear Josephine was the most punctual person she'd ever met and it really touched her how on-time Josephine always was? Really now. Old Josephine was a real stickler about being punctual. That is the wry truth that everyone will bemoan. Secretly they are all glad that the old nag is pushing up daisies because now she can't make them all feel harried and rushed and guilt-ridden.

Every time I go to write a serious post on here I am seized by boredom of all such things. I don't want to yammer on and on about faith, churchy stuff and depression. Sometimes I feel like I eat, breathe and sleep such things and I will scream if I have to hear another dumb conversation about it. For Pete's sake, just live it already or shut-up. What good is empty philosophy to the rest of us? It's like my friend's friend who claims self-absorption like it's a disease that he, or she, catches from time to time.
"Duh...sorry I haven't called in, like, a month... I caught a bad case of self-absorption and couldn't make it to the phone..." The funny thing is, I've been there. It's so dang easy to live in a microcosm of self. I had to laugh when I heard the charming yet idiotic message that this person left on my friend's phone about the whole thing.

I think I am going to start another blog about the more humorous things in life. We could all use a little more humor, right?

So what's humorous right now? Well, for starters my two-year old looks like a Kewpie doll. That's funny.

Another funny sight is my four-year old wearing only tights and a turtleneck: the crotch on the tights is sagging way down by her knees. Plus she is wiping snot on her sleeve. I wish I could get away with such things.

Thirdly, some girlfriend's and I went out for Happy Hour and they were regaled with tales about the truth about childbirth and it's after effects by the two of us who've been through it. Can anyone say, "Oops, I crapped my pants?" (a skit from SNL) with a straight face? It's probably funnier after a few sips of a beverage. (It doesn't take much, trust me)

The fact that I'm even writing any of this is funny because there is probably someone out there who doesn't think it's funny at all and they are going to blow the alleged whistle on me. That's funny.