Does This Blog Make My Butt Look Fat?

Bloggers...I've grown tired of this self absorption. 

A diary, as it were, that solicits comments.

At first, it was great fun.  A great exercise...but I think I'm done. 

Real life is demanding my attention. 

Gotta go...

Dater Hater

I'm scheduled to go on a date tonight.  The truth is...I can't do it. 

Oh, I can be entertaining.  I enjoy the praise, the attention, the flattery but my heart is elsewhere.

Stupid heart.

I remember when my heart used to listen to me.  But now it seems to have a mind of it's own.

This would be fine if my heart didn't have an IQ of 7.

Dating...YOU, make the call!

Okay people, here we go...

Which one should I go out with tonight?  (Cast your vote...it's not like I'm going to listen.)

They are all hilarious, attentive and intelligent.  I've spoken with each fella and, frankly, laughed out loud...

The cyclist and financial wizard.

He's cute in a I-hired-a-professional-photographer-to-take-this-photo... kind of way.

The business owner that wants to take me sailing.  In a race, no less.

I agree...why choose? 

Old People

Have you ever seen old folks overlooking a beautiful vista, say, at the beach?

Their eyes seem focused on some distant point...lost in reverie.

They appear humble and deflated, perhaps due to loss or lonliness?

We were sitting at the dinner table.  Yea, I brought the King of ignorance to meet the family...only to prove to my mother that, despite the fact I never married, I'm actually NOT gay.

At the dinner table, the King thought it would be funny to ask if anyone had ever been in jail. Because we are a morally righteous family, he expected a chortle, perhaps a guffaw.

My 75 year old mother commented she had been arrested twice.  In my family...that's nothing.  I mean, my grandparents practically met in jail...(It's an IRA thing...freedom fighters.) There are no actual "criminals".  Just political dissidents.

I was speeding at age 17, she was my passenger, the cop pulled us over...made me get in the patrol car.  She got out of our car and tapped on the policeman's window. "What are you doing with my daughter?" she implored. He arrested her for obstruction of justice.

The king asked, so when was the second time?

"None of your fucking business" she said. 

My point?  There is no distant look of reverie in MY mothers eyes.

The Leprechaun Show

My Uncles and Mother came to town.  They are from Ireland. They are short.  They are in their 70's.

They look weird.  They speak with brogues.

My Uncle Peter called from Ireland "Ach sure Charmaine,  if ya woon't kome to may, I'll kome to yow."

And so he did.

My Uncle John, Uncle Peter and mudder drove to California in a white van, filled with 100 classical music CD's.

"Charmaine, would you like to see the luxury feature I've added to me van?"

"I'm interested in technology...so "Sure" I said.

It was a kitchen sized microwave positioned on the floor, behind the passenger seat, plugged into the cigarette lighter. 

That's my family. Beverly Hillbillies meets Intellectual classical musician who happens to be physician...on the side.

When they left town, my uncle deposited several (like a hundred) classical music CD's in my hand.  With each, he commented on a piece of music contained therein. He said, "Ah, look at this one..."Romantic Classical Music".  (The romantic era was a movement in classical music.)

"Aire in the G-string" he said. He peered at my date and said, "Now don't be getting any ideas..mistha".