The OED gives the following definition: overlived: lived under great pressure or in intense activity. My life is full of intense activity (both good and bad) and has (for the past 8 years) been lived under great pressure (read boarding school and top-tier college). However, as I try to figure out what the heck I'm doing next, I'm learning that my life as a REAL ADULT PERSON has its own unique challenges. The pressure doesn't ever really go away; it just changes. So this is my relief :)
In a city park stood two statues, one female, the other male. These two statues faced each other for many years.
Early one morning, an angel appeared before the statues and said, "Since the two of you have been exemplary statues and have brought enjoyment to many people, I am giving you your greatest wish. I hereby give you the gift of life. You have 30 minutes to do whatever you desire."
And with that command, the statues came to life, smiled at each other, ran toward some nearby woods and dove behind a couple of bushes.
The angel smiled to himself as he listened to the two statues giggling, bushes rustling and twigs snapping. After 15 minutes, the two statues emerged from the bushes, satisfied and smiling. Puzzled, the angel looked at his watch and asked the statues, "You still have 15 minutes. Would you like to continue?"
The male statue looked at the female and asked, "Do you want to do it again?"
Smiling, the female statue said, "Sure. But this time you hold the pigeon down and I'll crap on its head."
I don't know why, but this was just hilarious to me.
So maybe inundation is not the right word, lol. Here's a couple of things that I wanted to share with you though.
First off, a really funny website I found called Overheard Everywhere. It's random parts of conversations overheard by people. Some of them are sketchy, some are just really random and hilarious. For example, here's one from a couple of days ago.
Wise eight-year-old boy to brother: Getting a girlfriend is the easy part. But you have to know how to keep them. Attentive six-year-old: How do you get them to stay? Wise eight-year-old: You have to find out what kind of food they like to eat. And you give them a plastic unicorn.
Nature Park Tampa, Florida
I don't know why I was so amused by that. Here's one more.
When Aunt Jemima Eats Burritos, Everyone Knows It.
Churchgoer to another: Did you fart? Something smells like buttermilk.
Methodist Church Knoxville,
Sometimes the funniest part is the titles they give for the overheard conversations. They match so well!
Ok, so next up is this website which is all about Health Care Reform (I also posted this on Facebook). Check it out. It gives real answers which include specific references to the Health Care Bill being discussed. It debunks a whole lot of ridiculous myths that people keep spouting like "death panels" and "Nazi policies." So give it a go and hopefully get some answers.
And lastly, in the same political vein, I suggest you all take the Political Spectrum Quiz. It's interesting to see the questions as well as the responses you can choose from. Also, it might call you to evaluate how you feel about certain issues. Just try it.
That's it for right now, I'll be back with more later :)
Karen sat on the red and white couch in the back of the room. She was nervous. No one spoke and the room was quiet, still. She wondered how long this was going to take. She didn’t know the procedure, what to expect in situations like this. She’d only heard about it in passing.
The others were afraid to be near her, she was sure. Instead of the usual joviality, she was greeted with small smiles and slightly turned backs. No one seemed to have enough courage to greet her normally. What could they have said? She wondered. The right side of her brain kicked into overdrive as she thought of ways she might comfort a grieving widow. At twenty-six years old, she had thought she was years from this pain, years from having to bury her husband.
Kevin thought he had more time. He’d even planned a ski vacation for them this winter. She’d never been to Vail and had wanted to go ever since she’d overheard her high school classmates talking about the “super awesome slopes” they had there. She’d barely remembered her desire when her sister brought it up. He’d included Hannah in the planning and left the information at her house in case Karen discovered it by accident. Now she wondered who she’d go with. She didn’t have the heart to cancel the trip when Kevin had so meticulously planned it.
He’d been in remission for the past two years and without warning, he was back in and out of the hospital again. This time the cancer was stage three. It wasn’t responding to the chemo. Three months later, stage four hit and the doctor said he had less than two months to live.
“Karen? It’s time.” Hannah broke her from her reverie. It was time for the grand march. She called it that ever since she was a small child. To her, a funeral procession looked much the same as a parade’s marching band, complete with costume hats.
She stared straight ahead. She’d toyed with the idea of having a closed casket ceremony— Kevin was always a private person— but decided against it. God forbid someone should think, years later that he died in some horrible plane crash because she kept the casket closed.
She was here now, standing in front of him. She couldn’t help but wonder how the funeral home determined the height at which one should be shown off. She thought he was a bit too low, that he might scare his nieces and nephews who didn’t understand the difference between the lie their parents told them and the reality and inevitability of death. For a split second, she smiled as she pictured little Imogen poking at him. “Wae up, Unca ’Evin. Wae up. ’Ap time is ’ova.”
She hadn’t cried yet. She’d thought it premature to grieve while she could still see him, touch him. She wouldn’t cry tonight either. Too many people around. She thought that the best time to start her grieving would be the day after tomorrow. When people stopped calling her to determine her mental state or ask whether or not she was sleeping. She would not grieve like an old woman. She would grieve quickly and quietly. There would be none of this no showering business. She would continue to wash her dishes and eat her vegetables. She would not let herself go. She would go back to work in two weeks. No more, no less.
She was standing again, Hannah’s arm around her shoulder. She’d closed her eyes for the entire service. It was time for food and fellowship, the upside to funeral services. She took one last look at the casket, at him. Kevin would be cremated tomorrow as he wished. It was a decision with which she did not agree, but chose to acquiesce in this final act as his wife. It was the least she could do, she thought.
Hello again! I've been meaning to write for at least a week now and I have tons of stuff to talk about, so hopefully I'll be inundating you with blog entries for the next couple of days… hope you can keep up!
Up first is Granny Biscuits! I saw this video when I was wasting too much time on YouTube (which happens quite frequently nowadays). This seems like the kind of thing Adrian puts on his blog— he might have even had it on there once, I don’t know.
Disturbing, yet amusing. Love that Edna has a mustache (not unlike real grandmothers I suppose) and that her grand-kids say "motherf***ing." Also, love that these so called granny biscuits can be picked up at Wal-Mart. I totally made a similar video myself (complete with three characters), but I will NEVER post it online... way too embarrassing (and long).
Numero Dos: I sometimes follow my ex’s blog, and while most of the time, I shake my head at the theological and life conclusions he comes to, every once in a while he writes a gem. In this case, it’s called “A Prayer of Reparation to the Ramen Gods”. (At least he remembers he’s a good writer.) I don’t know about you, but it made me chuckle and remember snack time after school. I absolutely loved ramen noodles when I was younger. And if you’re looking to ride down memory lane, I have a couple of packages in my cabinet; just come visit :)
And lastly, I ran across this on AOL today. (Ok now, take a second and click on the link. When you're done, come back here.) As some of you may know, I am all about weddings (really any festive occasion in which people are dressed up and food is consumed) and beautiful dresses.
Talk about a long train! Hopefully you scrolled down to the Toilet Paper Dresses. They were pretty cute. Especially that first one!
Ok, folks. That’s all for right now. And don’t worry, you’ll hear from me soon.
