Bringing Splices Back

While I was off gallavanting around and working fingers to the bone and visiting my family and so on, I carried around a notebook and pen to catch my little thoughts because Lord knows I cannot go seventeen minutes without writing something down.

I love to write things down. I have always been this way. My parents used to carry me up to the Woolworth's before school started each year and buy me fresh pencils and a new notebook and (if I were lucky) a TrapperKeeper. But without fail EVERY year, they had to make a return trip to the store for a new notebook the day before school started because I had already filled up the first one with my little thoughts.

I sure wish I had a few of those notebooks. I am convinced we'd all have a fine laugh, especially around the time I discovered adverbs. I did like my adverbs, muchly.

So I still carry around a notebook and write in longhand because I am a weirdo. However, in the past three weeks there wasn't really a lot of time for well-thought-out writing. Or well-thought-out thinking, for that matter. Now that I've had some sleep and done some laundry (including 12 pairs of underwear purchased during a rather dire laundry situation ... I am just saying is all) I decided to flip through the pages of my notebook to see if something in there was just brilliant and needed to be shared forever thanks to the innernet.

Below is a sampling of what I found in that notebook. It is not brilliant. It is in fact, kind of frightening. But still I am sharing, because I am a giver.

serial killers probably have neater handwriting

Scrawl of a crazy woman. Also, why can't I remember this?


• Tell Drew about that thing with the place where we went that time that has the good guacamole.

• If you splice a comma and no one reads it, does it dangle or participilate?

• Trader Joe's guy supercute, Faith says must be over 21 to sell me wine. Was loving this until he carded me. Was Mrs. Robinson sexy? Can't remember *** rent The Graduate ****


• Remind Boss re: Good Friday [Editor's note: Can I just tell ya'll I have NO IDEA what I am supposed to remind my boss re: Good Friday? I hope it comes back to me. I pray I have not forever killed off those brain cells.]


• Can you get post traumatic stress disorder from a lunch date? I need a bath. Help me. That man had octopus arms. On a FIRST date. At lunch. WHAT THE HELL. I will never go to the Daily Grill again for fear that A) The waitress will remember the horrible lunch date and smile at me in a pitying manner B) I might be reminded of said lunch date and cry C) My PTSD will kick in and I'll start crouching in a corner eating my hair. Really, very bad lunch date. But the crabcake = tasty. Stupid octopus man. Stinky cologne. Almost ruined crabcake.

• Why the f*** is cable so expensive? They have commercials!!!


• Find Jeep registration tags. Look near cat. [Editor's note: Look near cat? Was I stoned?]


• Email Uncle Skipper about the plane tickets and also ask why he did not take my beloved family to the Hill Country Cafe which has the world's finest collection of gravy-covered foods in all of Texas, what sort of host is he anyway? Ask dad for gravy recipe. Hah hah remember the alamo? No, remember the gravy-covered pickle!


• Why is it that every time I go visit Grandma we seem to eat in restaurants that have faux-grain wood paneling from the time when dinosaurs roamed the earth?


• the time I saw the guy at the bus stop [Editor's note: ...?]


• Sign in Mexican restaurant: 24 hours in a day 24 beers in a case... a coincidence? I think not!


So that is just a random sampling of some of the fine writing I did in the month of July. I did go on a lunch date with an Octopus and it was horrible, but the crabcakes were good, and I did not rent "The Graduate" but I vaguely remember Mrs. Robinson being hot just the same, and I have no idea what I meant to tell my boss or had to say about the bus stop guy. During the month of March, I had to run down to the Rite-Aid on 7th and buy panties not once not twice but THREE times, and frankly that is a record even for me.

They were hermetically sealed, thanksbetojeebus, and ya'll would think I'd be more relaxed about the price of cable seeing as I appear to have an unlimited panty budget, but whatever.

Remember the alamo. Or better yet, remember the gravy covered pickle!