Snowman

Writing a blog is a lot like rolling the base of a snowman together. You collect a tiny bit of idea, nothing much, and begin to roll it. The trick is to stop rolling at just the right time. If you stop too soon, your idea is so hardly ready that it’s not worth much notice. Worse yet, if you roll too long, your base is unmanageable–it’s too much to work with. 

So I finished what I thought to be a funny little blog entry in February and began rolling around in the snow until I was surrounded by abandoned, oversized snowballs. Every time I try to write I find myself attempting to fill a page with updates, thus usurping every entry of its playfulness. So I must do the only thing left to be done and purge a bullet-style list of updates. I apologize in advance.

 

1. The kitten is a boy again. 

We’re sure this time and we have settled on the name Caesar. Much of my waiting to write another entry had much to do with the humiliation of failing multiple times to figure out that that was, in fact, a ball sack. Boo. 

2. When I grow up I want to be Katniss Everdeen (in the first book, not the third, of course). 

I am quite sure that shooting arrows and refusing to shave my legs will be invigorating. The state of California has promised not to kick me out if I don’t kill anything and so long as my arrows are made of at least 60% recycled material. 

3. My full time profession right now has something to do with cupcakes. 

I understand your jealousy. I really do.  

4. Yesterday I ran my first half marathon. 

It was awesome, but it might explain the utter lack of motivation to write a full-length blog entry. A little something called the post-race blues: when your body is depleted from a race, particularly of the neurotransmitter choline, resulting in “the blues.” 

5. The other day I saw a woman at the Farmer’s Market with her incredibly fat cat… on a leash. 

The poor thing was even the same color as Garfield. I think I could write a whole blog entry about how hilariously wrong and wonderful it is to see that tiny woman walking her haughty, little feline around while sizing up produce. I might have taken a picture… ok, yes, yes I did. 

 

Ok there. Now I can come to you soon with a full-sized snowman of a story. 

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One thought on “Snowman

  1. Ceasar is not the only one to transform. My perfectly reasonable daughter, got married, moved to California, and transformed into a cat lady. My brain cannot take it in!

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