Um, excuse me, but how can it possibly be Saturday again already? I’m pretty sure I just wrote a KSS post like, a day and a half ago.
Nevertheless, here we are. Happy Saturday! And, I see, upon glancing at my calendar, that it is also the last day of February.
What’s that crashing noise, you ask? Just my jaw, hitting the floor.
Time barrels on, like a drunkard at the wheel, mowing down unsuspecting pedestrians like me who simply want to amble down the sidewalk and gaze at window-dressings.
Somebody needs to take away his license, so he’d at least have to run me over on a bicycle. Or maybe a Segway.
Time, on a Segway.
Somebody should write a song.
Anyway. Here are some items of interest, submitted for your approval:
This made me cry. (warning: do not read if you are pregnant. Rose? Do you hear me? I mean it.)
Heather Swain, if you happen to see that I linked to your article and you follow the lead back here, can I just say thank you for writing one of the most gut-wrenchingly honest and powerfully beautiful essays on miscarriage that I have ever read? It made my whole soul ache.
Now, if you’re still with me, and you don’t mind an occasional swear word (and honestly, if you do, why are you still with me?), read this, and have a rib-tickling laugh. Oh, how I giggled. And hugged myself with glee. And giggled some more.
Got any fans of Dante’s Inferno out there? Check this out; it’s amazing.
Having never actually read The Inferno, I was interested to discover that the Ninth Circle of Hell–the furthest possible point from God–according to the Poet, is not boiling with heat, but is rather, freezing cold. Everything, coated in ice.
I like Dante. He strikes me as a kindred spirit.
I found this site a while back and it is worth a perusal for any wanna-be writers, stymied poets, backed-up bloggers, and others who have lost their way, literarily speaking. Just punch a button and you’ll be given any variety of settings, topics, characters, and ways to kill a character quicker than you can say “constipation.”
I especially like the “dramatic entrances” button. And this quote:
“Writer’s block … is simply a failure of ego.” – Norman Mailer
Today I am attempting to sew curtains for Rose’s nursery. This sounds like a sweet endeavor, and would be the ideal way to spend a frigid and gray Saturday, but for the fact that I am not much of a seamstress. Pray for me. I’ll try to post pictures sometime, barring natural disasters such as me strapping C4 to the machine and sending it skyward.