C'mon Nigel, Mama Wants to Shake It

I've been sitting here for an hour now trying to come up with something to blog about. Truth be told, I have much to tell, but cannot find the words or the wit. My mind is a tabula rasa. This is a new phenomenon for moi. Like, when I actually stop talking - something of a rarity for me. Scientists usually study me for how much I can talk away to complete strangers and friends alike. And in case you were wondering, I don't self-implode while doing so. But finding me with no way to type is also excruciating and difficult for me. What to say with all that I have to say with no way to say it?

I guess I can start with the fact that I actually went to a Texas Ranger game on Thursday night with some friends of ours. Yes, I did. I have pictures on my new cell phone to prove it, because I know at least one of you who knows how deeply I do not heart baseball and knew I'd need to prove it. Yet, I cannot figure out how to download these pictures from the phone to the computer - I think it has something to do with setting up some sort of system to do so, but as you can tell I'm far too lazy to do it. Herein lies the problem. Thus, the pictures are held away in some trusty pixel phone compartment holder and will do so until the user error is solved. This may be never, so don't hold your breaths. But I did go to a baseball game of which the Ranger's lost (oh, like that's new news. . . .). I would have much rather have been living and breathing margaritas on the beach, but the 4 tickets for $8 total just couldn't be matched in airfare. Now, the price of ballpark beer, cotton candy, kettle corn and hurricanes, well, that's a whole other story as one could potentially pay their month's mortgage with those types of incurred fees.

Aside from fat guys trying to hit balls with a itty-bitty aluminum stick to run around bases, I also had one of my best friends come up from H-town to visit me over the weekend. We stayed in and watched movies with our dear old friend, Captain Morgan. In keeping with following the Captain's orders, we drank responsibly by being in the house and not driving. I think I'm just getting old. The pub scened doesn't do for us what it once did for us. We also ate responsibly, so as not to risk the waistline we work so hard to maintain. She more than me, but, whatever, I like to think I'm doing the body good so let me believe it.

Furthermore, I had to leave my gal pal behind a few hours on Saturday while I attended another baby shower. In case you were wondering, I was not asked when the husband and I were going to produce our very own spawn. Vindication! Finally. . . . However, I almost wanted to be asked, because, thanks to in part to my six readers, I had an arsenal of responses prepared! D'oh.

Not that the husband was invited to the baby shower (how do men get out of all things showery?) so he wasn't in attendance either, but he is back on the graveyard shift once more. Let me just put this out there, I hate that shift. I hate sleeping alone. In fact, I'm terrible at it. I only sleep well when he's lying next to me. I tend wake up a lot and try to keep the dogs on the bed with me. Only two out of four will complete my recommendation. Don't get me wrong, it is not the same as having the husbands arm around me, but beggars cannot be choosers.

Furthermore, it finally stopped raining. I believe the TV news reported 47 straight days of rain for us here in our Longhorn city. People visiting might get the idea that we are some sort of "Southern Seattle." Don't be fooled by such Tom Foolery. Things are starting to die due to the mass quantities of water they are receiving. Even I, a famous lover of thunderstorms and lightening, need to wring out now and again to avoid becoming all pruny-like in the fingers and toes. The dogs as well are bored beyond being disenchanted and have begun to make up their very own indoor games. They have not broken anything yet, but they are certainly getting on moi nerves more times than not. The 47-days is still young though - or is it the 2-days without rain, uh . . yeaaaaaah . . . whatever - as we heard loads of mumbley rumbling thunder in the distance today, thus meaning rain cannot be too far behind. So they say. Great. More rain. I think I'll take up rowing.

Pan's Labyrinth is worth watching. You just need to see it. It categorically and unquestionably earned its 3 Academy Awards.

Finally, and in any case, my wit has failed me today. I have no funny. Maybe tomorrow I'll wake up without my brain saying, "if you try to make me produce one more witty sentence that I do not possess, I will climb out of one of your ears, if not both, and drown myself in the pond you try and call a backyard. Hmpf. Do not test me."