Endless Google

Ok. This is VERY cool (if you're a complete nerd like me.)

Open a new internet window. Type this in the address bar: http://www.googlegooglegooglegoogle.com/

Four Google searches, one Google window!

Amazing!

If you type the web site into one of the searches, and click it's link, you get 4 more Google searches.

Not sure if this is completely useful, but it's interesting.

What will Google think of next?

Get Me Some Lysol Disinfectant Spray

Just found out Handsome has strep.


Fabulous...


Here's hoping Darling and I don't get it.


If you need me, I'll be bathing in anti-bacterial hand gel. (I know it's mostly a placebo, but it makes me feel better).

Thinking of those in Haiti

Sending my prayers and happy thoughts out to those who are affected by the earthquake in Haiti. If you're interested in donating money to help, click here.

Good Reminder

I'm a very good theatre widow.

For the last 13 years, whether we were in class or newlyweds or new parents, I've always accepted my handsome hubby's desire for his hot, passionate mistress.

He's an actor.

I'm not.

I've learned to share him with the other passion of his life.

That sometimes means not seeing him past 6:30 pm until the next morning.

Honestly, it might be a bigger problem if his rehearsal schedule wasn't so demanding when we were first together.

I've learned to share him and so has Darling...

Nevertheless, I LOVE LOVE LOVE the great singer songwriters in America. Harry Chapin is one of my favs. (If you don't know him, he's the one who wrote/first sang "Cats in the Cradle")...

Handsome just started a new show and after having him home for a month, Moxie's feelin' lonely tonight...so...I share the story of one of the most patient career widows....


DOGTOWN BY HARRY CHAPIN


Up in Massachusetts There's a little spit of land.
The men who make the maps, yes, they call the place Cape Ann.
The men who do the fishing call it Gloucester Harbor Sound,
But the women left behind, they call the place Dogtown.

The men go out for whaling, past the breakers and the fogs.
The women stay home waiting they're protected by the dogs.
A tough old whaler woman who had seen three husbands drown,
Polled the population and she named the place Dogtown.

There's all these grey faced women in their black widow's gowns,
Living in this grave yard granite town.
Yeah, you soon learn there's many more than one way to drown;
That's while going to the dogs here in Dogtown.

And she speaks: My father was a merchant all in the Boston fief.
When my husband came and asked him for my hand.
But little did I know then that a Gloucester whaler's wife
Marries but the sea salt and the sand.

He took me up to Dogtown the day I was a bride.
We had ten days together before he left my side.
He's the first mate of a whaling ship,
the keeper of the log.
He said, "Farewell, my darling, I'm going to leave you with my dog."

And I have seen the splintered timbers of a hundred shattered hulls,
Known the silence of the granite and the screeching of the gulls,
I've heard that crazy widow Cather walk the harbor as she raves
At the endless rolling whisper of the waves.

Sitting by the fireside, the embers slowly die.
Is it a sign of weakness when a woman wants to cry?
The dog is closely watching the fire glints in his eye.
No use to go to sleep this early, no use to even try.

My blood beats like a woman's,
I've got a woman's breast and thighs.
But where am I to offer them
to the ocean or the skies?

Living with this silent dog
all the moments of my life,
He has been my only husband;
am I a widow, or his wife?

Yes, it's a Dogtown and it's a fog town,
And there's nothing around 'cept the sea pounding granite ground
And this black midnight horror of a hound.

I'm standing on this craggy cliff,
my eyes fixed on the sea.
Six months past, when his ship was due,
I'm a widow to be.
For liking this half living with the lonely and the fog,
You need the bastard of the mating of a woman and a dog.

And I have seen the splintered timbers of a hundred shattered hulls,
Known the silence of the granite and the screeching of the gulls,
I've heard that crazy widow Cather walk the harbor as she raves
At the endless rolling whisper of the waves.
At the endless rolling whisper of the waves.
At the endless rolling whisper of the waves.

Well, Where the Hell Have You Been?!

There's a little voice in my head that sounds a lot like my mother, complete with hands on the hips, angry tinge to the words, that has been chastising me for not blogging more.

Where the hell have I been?

I can't tell you. I'm not sure if it's writer's block, a boring life, or just general laziness, but my blogging has definitely slacked off in recent months. I make no excuses...it is what it is... (I hate that phrase sometimes)...

I am indeed still alive, surviving the snow-pocalypse that has covered KC in the (now dingy gray) white stuff. The holidays were weird this year because of the blizzard (we haven't had one of those since the 1800's apparently) that happened on Christmas Eve...I didn't get to join my BFF's Sicilian family for Christmas Eve, my biological family and I are barely on speaking terms (AGAIN!), and my hubby's brother moved to California. All this in one week.

The holidays sucked, quite frankly, unless you count in the factors of my daughter's complete excitement on Christmas (can't we all be 5 yrs old on Christmas morning?), the late night wrapping/bonding my hubby and I did, and the fact that his family, sadly, overcompensates for the crappy way my family treats me. I love my hubby's family and every year I learn more and more that they are my real family (one that may be dysfunctional, but still loves you no matter what, unconditionally).

So, new year, new me...right? I promise to be more faithful in posting and I promise to bring the crazy that I usually do.

That being said, here's some really random thoughts:

1. My husband is an absolute saint. In the last week he has been home 5 days with a VERY BORED 5 year old since school was cancelled, dealt with her boredom while trying to work from home, shoveled more snow than he has had to in the last 3 yrs combined, climbed on the roof to figure out a nasty leak that sealed our front door shut in ice, and has been loving and patient all through it. He deserves a Congressional Medal of Honor for this shit.

My child is so weird. She absolutely freaks out when you refer to the "collar" on her shirt. She is convinced there is another word for it. "Dogs and cats wear 'collars' Mama, not PEOPLE!!!" I've given up convincing her otherwise.

Apparently, conspiracy theory lovers, the Loch Ness Monster is dead. That sucks.

I've been snot-enhanced for the last week and a half because my brother in law brought his sick, snotty kids to our house right before New Year's. Darling caught it and now I have. Thanks a fucking lot.

I sat in a cold drafty museum all day today with absolutely no visitors in 5 hours (I don't blame any one for not wanting to get out in this.) I sent my docent home because I felt guilty she wasn't being paid to be out in this frozen tundra. Despite being completely empty, I heard a door slam and a little child's voice 2 rooms away (singing something somewhat familiar)...real enough for me to check out the house and make sure no one had accidentally wandered in the museum without me knowing. Of course there was no one (still alive) there. Freaky.
I don't like being freaked out.

It's cold here in good ol' KC. I found this website that compares your current temperature to Star Wars climates. Interesting, but who really cares? Also, if you were Luke Skywalker, how long could you survive in a TaunTaun carcass...answer here. Considering the KC Arctic Blast, this info might be handy.