I've been busy all week with the work I should have started last week. Procrastination is only fun until you actually have to get cracking, you know? Then it kinda sucks. It leaves so little time for blogging.
That old Virgin (or Vagina) Mary salt stain in the underpass? A guy wrote "big lie" on it with shoe polish and was arrested for defacing government property. Said government washed off the graffiti and painted over the stain with light brown pain (Our Poo of the Underpass!) The faithful have returned, however, to scrape off the paint so they can again view their blessed salt stain. One snarky bystander said, "They found the Virgin in the grilled cheese, they found Jesus in some French fries, whatever, you know, that's great. If that's what people want to believe in, if they want to say that's something significant, that's fine." (Wouldn't that be a great bumper sticker? I FOUND JESUS IN MY FREEDOM FRIES.)
I'm leaving in an hour for the ovarian cancer fundraising walk. Thanks to that bitchin' professor for mentioning it and finding me some more generous donors. Although it's too late to sponsor me in the walk, you can certainly donate by credit card by clicking on the "Donate to the NOCC" link above the blogroll to the right. The National Ovarian Cancer Coalition is the group that's holding today's Walk for the Whisper ("Whisper" is because ovarian cancer quietly sneaks up on a woman). I'm donating in honor of my aunt S. and cancerbaby. If you don't know anyone who has had to battle ovarian cancer, consider yourself lucky. And then, please, please, PLEASE donate to the NOCC. You know, if 20 of the people reading this blog each donated an easy $5, that's a nice $100 donation right there. You can make a difference.
Mother's Day is coming up tomorrow. A special shout-out to any would-be mom who's been struggling with infertility. I know Mother's Day can be bittersweet (or just plain bitter) when a child has eluded you—I wish you peace, health, happiness, and hopefully a baby soon.
To those of you who are already mothers, enjoy the day tomorrow. Remember to let your families spoil you! (Don't clean up after anyone, 'kay?)
Ben has said a lot of funny things this week. Too bad I can't remember them now.
Turning to American Idol, hooray! Not gonna have to look at Scott anymore. Smart money's on Carrie, but Bo's first song this week made my scalp tingle. (That's my stringent criterion for judging the quality of a vocal performance—Did it make my scalp tingle? Scott mostly just made my skin crawl. Bo was a scalp-tingler this week.)
I've been quasi-famous this week in real life. There was a feature article in the local paper featuring yours truly, so I'm discovering which people read the Sunday paper and which ones don't. I had a neighbor shout to me out her window, and my accountant asked for my autograph (yes, I'm just filing my taxes in May. Wanna make something of it?). In this article, I am compelled to point out, my performance at that crossword tournament was deemed "astonishing." This just may be the first time I have been so described, so I'm gonna hold onto that for a while. Makes me a tad giddy.
I'll try to write here more regularly, but the second I sent in the work I'd edited, of course my client sent me more work. Between that and the PMS and a general sense of not being on top of things lately, ack.