you'd better go in disguise

The best party I ever threw was "teddy bear picnic" themed, the year I turned five. The whole idea was a combination of bears, the woods, and food, which I guess were all things I liked.



This only scratches the surface of the weird things I liked as a child.

The year I turned five I celebrated my birthday a month early because my family was moving to Australia, a place where, my mom informed me, I would have no friends. I knew nothing about Australia besides the fact that no one there was going to want to come to my birthday party and that it was in books. Also in books: bears eating toast and jam in the forest.

After the party when most of my friends had gone, my friend Jonathan and I stood on my porch waiting for his mom to come pick him up. It was quiet, and we were solemnly watching children playing on the swingset across the street, remembering when we were four and enjoyed activities like that.

I remember Jonathan said "Well, another year, huh?" and I said "Another year." And I felt so very, very old.

Do you feel wise beyond your years? Have you ever been to a teddy bear picnic? Or any sort of casual meal with wild animals?

you're welcome, plants I didn't buy

My freshman year of college, my humanities professor recommended that we all get potted plants. It wasn't really relevant to Humanities. But if the plant is thriving, that means things are under control enough that you're watering it regularly. If it's dead, things aren't good.

Last week I went to the grocery store and bought groceries, and this morning I realized they're all still here, because I've been to busy to make myself any food all week. I think that's a good indicator of whether things are under control.

good luck and good luggage

Off my flight to LA (is this relevant?) All of the checked bags got lost/late/misrouted. I'd opted for a Hartmann Tweed duffel instead of a checked bag so the checked bag problem didn't concern me, but was feeling bad for everyone else on my flight since we'd already been delayed an hour, and LAX has that screening where they look at you naked instead of going through a metal detector, but for some reason you still have to take your belt off.



As I was walking away a white male (is this relevant) asked me "Hey do you know where our bags are?"

"No, I just have a carry-on." I shrugged my shoulder with my Hartmann Tweed on it and then, because I have a curiosity that rivals that of any cat I know (I know zero because I'm allergic to cats, is this relevant?) I asked, "Is there a problem with the bags?" As soon as the word "bags" was out of my mouth I knew the Minnesoootan accent had come out too strong but I soldiered on, "Did they get sent to the wrong place?"

"Well..." he said. "Well I've had a lot to drink."

Is this relevant? He seemed to think he had answered my question. I wished him good luck.

"AND. GOOD. LUCKS. TO. YOU." he answered too loudly, with emphasis on every word.

After I finished thinking of vocabulary I can use instead of bag (luggage, suitcase, personal items) my Hartwman Tweed, my lucks and I walked toward my Los Angeles apartment where the luckiest girl in the world lives. Can I stockpile those lucks for later? Collect a few more unnessecary lucks and them go buy a lottery ticket or move to Ireland or whatever lucky people do? Ragin'.

Dog Year

Happy New Year friends and readers and suckers!



Mark your calendars because 2012 is the year I'm finally going to get a dog, teach him tons of tricks and hang out with him all the time. I promise there will be pictures and I promise he will have a great name and I promise this will happen as soon as possible.



My only other resolution is to eat more bacon. Basically this is going to be a really great year. I think it will be a really great year for you too.