Friday, April 29, 2005

Gratitude Tastes Like Ganache

The Dowager Empress Odie-Bird asked what I was grateful for today. Yet another example of balance (THWACK!!! Thank you, Enlightened Master.) in that after the week from hell crawling through broken lightbulbs on a salt flat, one must not lose track of the few good moments. The coffee breaks in Hell, as it were. Go to the bottom of the page for that joke, if you don't know it. Yes, down there below the line of asterisks. Meet me back up here when you're done.

So, with that in mind, I am:

Grateful that it is Friday, number one.

Grateful that I have many varied interests and will never know the hell that is truly nothing to do.

Grateful that I have fans in a mail art group who will send me stuff!

Joined Postcard X 'cause I like to make stuff. I don't necessarily want to keep everything I make, tho', and I like to swap stuff that is complete in itself (too bad for Addicted to Puffies). I found Nervousness to be standoffish and too rule bound. (Example--to participate in a swap, you have to complete a swap. But to complete a swap, you have to participate in a . . . Not a bad idea, but--see above. Very Vonnegut. Pfffft.)

I did a swap with one artist--I sent her three abstracts, she sent three whimsical ATC's--and a Starbucks card with enough buckage for a beverage and a snack. On the Starbucks card, she appended a post-it that read:

(I know a cat named . . .)



as a thank you

for sharing your

blog . . .

Very e.e. cummings, the way she laid it out on the bitty yellow square.

God bless you, Ms. Rosewater.

Man dies, goes to the Very Bad Place and is met by the Evil One Hissownself. Evil One tells Man that he can choose how he spends Zorostran eternity--but one he's chosen, he can't change his mind. The first choice is a room filled with men standing waist high in boiling blood. Man declines that particular fate.

Next room, men standing up to their shoulders in boiling urine. Nope, not there either.

Last room, men standing in feces to thier knees, drinking coffee. Man asks if he can have a cup, Evil One agrees. This is the best coffee man has ever had. This is coffee the way coffee was intended to be; coffee of the gods themselves. Wow.

Man chooses this room. Evil One assents, locks the door on his way out. Man feeling pretty smug--all things considered, this ain't too shabby.

Stubby tubby devil walks in, tosses down his cigar butt, announces that "Coffee break's over, boys! Go back to standing on your heads!"

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