Without having studied that phrase at all, I have always, when I have heard it, wondered for about three seconds whether it means --if your eye sees stuff that offends you, pluck it out, or if it's the eye itself that's offensive. Maybe a scratched cornea or something. Or a twitch. Either way, it seems pretty extreme.
Whatever its meaning, it is a recurring theme in my thoughts over the past few weeks. I got a twitch right before my first trial (don't ask) and mine eye has been offended by the despicable combination of two often-terrible-on-their-own stylistic motifs: country and christmas. People, it's country christmas out here and I am constantly fighting the urge to vomit.
In other news--my formerly generous anonymous internet provider needs to get "linksys" fixed. I am writing this from a small purple but comfortable NP coffee cafe with the forgettable name of Winfield's. Anyway--that's why no posts. Although work hasn't been very worky in the past couple weeks, it's hard to feel settled enough there to reflect enough to write something about something.
Here's the Lulu news (I spend more time with her than anybody, so she's a recurring topic. hope it doesn't bore anybody too much): she loves the snow. She bounds about and dips her face in it a lot. She gets snow all over her face and then licks it off her nose, so it's the one spot w/o snow. The snow melts between her toes (yet more about her toes, I know) and then turns to ice, which after about 20 minutes becomes uncomfortable. This is a problem I never anticipated. However, 20 minutes is about the extent of my desire to romp around in the snow anyway, so it works out ok. She and I have been working on some new tricks. She can now wave goodbye, and will roll over every once in a while.
There are people singing along with a bad rock'n'roll version of Santa Claus is Comin' to Town here in Winfield's. It's time to go.
. . .
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment