There was a photo of him sitting on an Iron Throne replica and one of the lines in his profile was, “I have a PhD in physics, for reals, yo.”
I am going to ask the universe to make me that cool.
And then I cried, then laughed, and then laugh-cried.
I don’t have mile by mile memories like I usually do. It’s all sort of one giant emotional dump.
It was just a little too on-brand.
Today is Vonnegut’s first birthday!
I’ve been talking about my baby boy’s birthday this week and am convinced a couple people at work think I have a skin kid. After all, I mentioned that I needed to make treats to bring to daycare, so what else would one assume?
Let the charade continue!
Vonny loves being my sous chef, so he did help me bake mini peanut butter cupcakes, or pupcakes, last night. Joey and he were so excited about the taste test, this may surpass the Peanut Butter Shorthairs for favorite homemade treat.
I saved a couple pupcakes for home, but arranged the rest in a cake pan and wrapped it up to bring to the Hydrant Club.
And it the way that parents with skin kids often do, I dealt with a flurry of activity getting us out the door on time this morning. After gym, walks, breakfast, and getting ready for work, it was time to load the van and go. I gotta tell you, with a work bag, lunch, bag, two leashed dogs, and a pan full of pupcakes, there was some strategy in getting loading.
Being the genius I am, I brought out my bags and the pupcakes first, placing the pupcakes on the roof of the van, above my door so I’d be sure and see them when I hopped in. Putting the pupcakes in, then letting the dogs in, and walking around to my side seemed too tempting and I didn’t want the pupcakes gone in 15 seconds.
I ran back inside, grabbed the doggos, and got them situated in the van. Now, the gas light was on, so I needed to make sure I had my Costco card and could stop for gas quickly after dropping the kids off.
As we were backing out of the garage, the neighbor with the Husky was walking by, so everyone needed to do looks out the window and good morning barks.
We cruised out the back gate and interestingly enough, it was about 15 seconds later that I realized the pupcakes were not in the van.
INNER THOUGHT AS HEART RACED: “I RUINED VONNEGUT’S BIRTHDAY.”
SIMULTANEOUS THOUGHT AS HEART RACED: “I DID NOT SEE OR HEAR PUPCAKES FLYING ACROSS OAKEY BOULEVARD.”
SIMULTANEOUS THOUGHT AS HEART RACED: “PUPCAKES WOULD BE LESS WEIRD FOR RANDOMS TO FIND THAN THE FRIED CHICKEN LEFTOVERS.”
Of course, neither Vonnegut or Joey had any idea I was freaking out. They thought we were going to daycare, but then I pulled into Baskin Park and that’s a fun place for them, too.
I slowly pulled into the Baskin lot and said, “Well, they’re either there or they’re not,” and gingerly opened the door, half expecting the pupcakes to come raining down on me.
And there they were. Magically safe. The ingredient list flew away, but the pupcakes were safe.
Honda Odyssey: The Cadillac of Minivans.
I am certain he didn’t mean to call me a prostitute.
For the record, Jesus always wants you to have dessert.
Maybe it was the polyester.
If you were to convert a text only document to a PFD file and attach it to a Gmail message this afternoon, you’d only use about 375 KB of your 25 MB attachment limit to instantly send your file.
This list may change tomorrow or in 10 minutes.
The fact of the matter is that a system that demands your silence and compliance in the face of injustice was never meant to protect you.
Someone you know is on the verge of a meltdown right now.
Who cares if it took half a life to get here? I’ve always done things on my own time.
It's never understanding why your brother likes hot fudge when it just melts everything and it's laughing at your dad when he describes his preferred texture of malt as "runny."
He learns all these things from Facebook. Her girlfriend, their kids.
Optional: Poop Tweeting.
And along with goals, prioritize. In the end, some of us like to be busy and some of us like to get sh*t done. Choose wisely.
So it only made sense that the Dude, who is a dog, and dogs had also saved my life, is named Vonnegut.
I've never understood this particular line of carnival barker and must say, the man about a half mile up the road who was holding a "John 3:16" sign and yelling in happy, non-confrontational tone, "God is good!" had a much better marketing plan.