I was regaling boring Caroline today with the story of how I beat a fly to death.
Fattest fly ever. Fat and loud AND on cocaine and blind, hurtling itself headlong into the walls. It followed me around like a lovesick … fly, even to the point of crawling under the bathroom door when it realized I was in there. I saw myself in the fat loud blind fly and I beat it to death with the bathmat and flushed it.
How sad is my life that I considered making that yesterday’s blog post? Maggie Mason needs a sequel titled “No One Cares That You Killed A Huge Fly In Your Bathroom This Morning.”
I have no blog post now the hat is done. (Oh, two co-workers weighed in on the hat. Anne, “It looks like Neapolitan ice cream,” and Carter, “If you stand facing south you could pick up Dish Network.”) Without the hat, I have no blog post, because I have no project. Mom is boxed up, Babka defeated me, Pie Pie Pie Pie Cupcake Pie is a losing battle, Mom’s house is in the hands of the property managers, and the guitars and bass don’t interest me at the moment.
In retirement, Mom would measure her mental health by how many capers she was up to. Was she spray-painting every tool in the garage gold? Was she making padded cloth covers for the photo albums? Was she pasting on fake tattoos? See? I need a caper. I have been caperless one whole day.
How many days until I paint the basement in the manner of Basquiat? That’s the real question.
11 responses to “I Need a Caper”
Well, capers are fine, but maybe what you need is a coup. Anyway, fine hat! And you are very cute. And young.
You can get a small jar of capers for about $3 at most grocery stores. (Yuk yuk)
I hate graffiti art. There, I said it.
I stopped blogging. It didn’t happen on purpose, it’s just that every opinion that I thought I needed to share is already out there.
Maybe I should post more recipes. Sunday night’s turkey burgers were pretty damn delicious.
I care that you killed a big fat fly in your bathroom. I do. That’s exactly why I read blogs: for that tiny glimpse into someone else’s daily life. (Not specifically for fly snuff. No.)
Then again, I also care what you (the general you as well as the specific you) had for lunch, so I guess I’m denying Maggie Mason’s whole premise.
Well, maybe you and coworkers should raid one of the food trucks downtown?
I still say road trip, but Amy’s idea has merit and we don’t have to pack.
Hattie – A coup? I could become involved in politics, as you are. You were just in a peace demonstration, that’s a good project.Zayrina – Bwhahaha. Snort.Tami – It’s odd, what I remember about Basquait is that he wrote words all over walls. I could write bathroom words all over my bathroom walls. I could be confusing Basquait with someone else.Elsa – I had nachos. And I like blogs for the same reason, to see how we are all the same but just different enough. Amy in StL – Huh! I’ve never eaten at a food truck. Ever. PI has a food truck, doesn’t it? Isn’t there a food truck review site?Caroline – I’m on it!
Are you saying you have no thoughts to share? Or opinions?
~~Silk – Someone could guess all my opinions already. None of my thoughts are all that surprising either.
The food trucks are all on twitter. There’s Pi, Mangia(which is Italian) Chacha(which is tacos) and then SweetArt and the cupcakery truck. I think we’re getting a new one too, but it’s not up and running yet.
Amy in StL – thank you! I added all the ones on @Weatherbird ‘s list to my Twitter.