Wheee!

Today, my chickens, is May 1st. For any ancient Celts or NeoPagans in the crowd, it's also known as Beltane. Once upon a time, on Beltane, the ancient Celtic people would go out and start a big fire. And get wasted. And then have sex. This sounds like a holiday I can get behind. You throw in some marshmallow Peeps and I am totally down. Oh, and pie. I love pie.

Anyway, when Christianity wandered its way into the British Isles, much the way homeless people wander into the public library to use the bathroom, Beltane was discouraged and we ended up with May Day. You guys remember May Baskets, right? We made them in elementary school? Oh well, traditionally, May baskets are filled with candy and flowers and left on a neighbor's doorstep. If the neighbor catches you, kisses are exchanged. Oh yeah. Lots more fun than fire and hooking up...

So, in the spirit of the season, I am presenting you with a May basket full of the random crap that's taking up space in my brain pan. And since technically, you're catching me giving it to you, you can have a kiss. No tongue, though.

1. Wow. That was a huge lead-in. Sorry about that.
2. I listened to a couple argue for 45 minutes at the park yesterday. Guess what they were fighting about? Another woman? A missed birthday? Nope. She was giving him a huge ration of shit about how he never fights with her. Yup. A fight about how they never fight. These people need cable. I think her point was that she felt he was emotionally unengaged. But still. Yeesh.
3. It occurs to me from time to time that I don't know anyone's phone number anymore. You're all in my phone, but if I were to lose my phone and need to call someone, the only people I could reach would be my parents. And that's only because they've had the same phone number since I was 18 months old. If they move, I'm screwed.
4. Do any of you know a straight man who is over 35, has never been married, and isn't a complete sociopath? If so, send me his name. I have a bet running.
5. Why do boys constantly talk about boobs, I mean girls, no, never mind, I mean boobs, they've known before? I swear to Buddha, I've seen men get misty like they were talking about old Army buddies. I remember my college boyfriend named mine. I'm pretty sure he liked them better than he liked me. Weird.
6. Since were on the subject, I understand that boys like boobs. I'm a pretty big fan of them myself. I guess when I had them, I felt like I was part of the club, now that I'm an A-cup, I feel like I've had my girl card revoked. For the first time in my life I'm considering breast implants, just so I can fill out a halter top better than say...Orlando Bloom. How's that for an image? *shiver*

So, how was that for super awesome? I'd say more, but I spent most of the day painting a friend's basement and I think the fumes have disabled the section of my brain that allows me to focus, so I'll just say....oooh shiny!