BACKSPACE

It’s like a theme. A metaphor. My BACKSPACE button keeps popping off. So fun! So challenging! I choose to look on the bright side.

There’s so much you can do when your BACKSPACE button keeps popping off, especially when you a re a less-than-stellar typer… You can , well, fer instance, you can ignobe mistakes. Or you can ignore them. You can mouse on over to where the mistake first began, and then you can DELETE in a forward motion. That’s fun. Also, you can try to keep the tiny little black spongie thing in place in the general AREA where the  BACKSPACE button would be, were it to QUIT DAGGONE POPPING OFF, and if you’ve never had a button off your keyboard, you don’t know what I’m talking about, but if you HAVE had a button off you r keyboard, you know EXACTLY what I’m talking about, that little teeny tiny spongie thing, it’s so cute, and if you keep it in place, you can still sorta use the BACKSPACE key by hitting the tiny sponge several times. I’m gonna try to glue it down…

Hmmmm…. Not sure yet. Should I use silicon caulk? Or Elmers. I’m trying something called “AMAZING GOOP”. I’ll let ya know if it lives up to its name…

So far so good…

That goop is AAMAZING.

I watched “Into the Wild” last night, which, I remember reading the book a few years back…  Even so, I was not adequately  prepared to be struck by the  gargantuan tidal wave of grief, gnashing, sobbing, and wailing, that steam-rolled over me at the end of the movie. Good God. Like my heart was ripped from its dark, wet, squishy little hole and bashed repeatedly against the tile floor. Or something.

I can’t wait to watch it again tonight.

Katherine Keener, she’s great. I have a big ol’ girl crush on her.

The frogs have managed to finish off the rest of the eggs, even the ones that stuck to the plastic lily pad. I’m not sure how I feel about the whole eating of one’s own progeny thing. I’m sure there’s a metaphor in there somewhere, but darned if I can even partially flesh it out… 

The two eggs I managed to transfer to the Mason jar, one is still stuck to the spoon, and the other is just sorta floating around in the jar. It may or may not be a piece of lint.

Where did I read recently, oh crud, where was it… Somebody was writing about … something,… (why didn’t I take note?!!!!)   and she said, one of the nicest things anyone ever said to her… or one of the most life-altering things anyone ever said to her was this: “I’m so excited about your life!” Meaning, I’m so excited about where you’re going, about who you are already, about what great things you will do and see and become…

Anyways, whoever said it, it really struck me. Instead of worrying and wondering and anticipating and projecting… you know, when you have kids, you know how you do, you think of “worst case scenario” constantly, it’s just what you do…. Instead of all that,  I can choose to be excited about their lives, about who they are, and what they’ll see and do and become, and all the great things that will come their way.

ANd there’s my metaphor… If they don’t get out of the tank and into their own little MAson jar soon, I will EAT THEM.  My fear and projection and neuroses.. will swallow them up. Or something.

So far the little sponge is still holding strong to the general BACKSPACE area. Things are looking up…