I had the sudden impulse today to liken blogging to bunnies. Of all things. And, you know, the comparison isn't all that far off what with the rapid and rampant population boom of blogs on the internet. They're like damn rabbits. But, more importantly, I was perusing some more or less FAMOUS bloggers, and found myself in total awe. They've been doing this shit for YEARS! They're like the Energizer Bunnies of the blogverse. And lately I've kind of felt like, oh, I don't know...A Duracell Turtle. Or something. I bet you're smelling what I'm stepping in because you're a bright bunch. No dim bulbs in this crowd.
I have this NASTY compulsion to pick my lips when they're dry. All it takes is one little errant piece of epidermis on my lip and an afternoon of bloody lips awaits me. Today, I got this really weird bordering on PROUD feeling about a chunk of skin I pulled off. I sat at my desk sort of staring at it, like, huh? That's a piece of my lip. Then a coworker walked in and I promptly threw it away. I'm fucking gross sometimes.
Yesterday, I was stopped at a green light. Why the hell, you ask, would I STOP at a green light? Well, I do believe that is the PROPER thing to do when you see a hearse pass, no? With all of the mourners and their hazard lights and high beams on bringing up the rear? Methinks you allow the funeral procession to pass through? Not that I'm some kind of guru of propriety or anything, but no one behind me honked, which I took to mean that my assumption was correct and that my meager upbringing combined with my father's LOOK OF DEATH when it came to ill-mannered children, particularly those of half his genetic make-up, didn't result in too much of an asshole.
When the hearse passed, I did the sign of the cross. And then I cried. It happens every damn time. So weird.
Friday, June 02, 2006
Bunnies, Bloody Lips, and Mourners
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9 Leg Humps:
I don't think that's weird at all (talking about the crying part). I cry whenever I see the airlift helicopter flying overhead. I know that they have to be very sick to be in airlift.
The lip thing? That's why I keep my lips well lubed- because I used to do the EXACT same thing.
This post was the weirdest damn thing.
First paragraph, I was like: hm.
Second paragraph, I was all pukey-nauseous.
Third paragraph and fourth: I was like: that's SO cool.
Crazy, man. Crazy.
Energizer turtle. I like that.
Stopping for a funeral is dying out in some areas, and thats sad. When you are in the lead car, this gesture of respect from the townsfolk means a lot.
My lips? Also always covered in lip-balmy goodness, because I can be even more gross with the skin hanging off my lip--I'll chew it off. Yep.
A lot of people don't have respect for funeral processions. It's nice that you do. And yeah, I cry at things like that too.
Picking the skin off your lips is better than chewing it off, which is what I do. Yeah, I'll gnaw on the little flaps of dried skin. Gross. But an uncontrollable habit.
And yeah, love the Energizer turtle comment hehehe.
Phil
Echoes in a Nomad's Head
Carmex, my friend. Get thee to the drugstore for some Carmex. Just slather it on at night and voila! Soft goodness the next day. Of course, the shit is addictive so you have to remember to do it every night or your lips will crack off if you forget...
Hell, people here don't even get out of the damn road for an ambulance, much less stop for a funeral procession.
When my grandmother died in 2001, we drove through the small town where she lived. She passed her house on last time. Anyway a couple of people stopped what they were doing (walking, gardening) as the funeral procession passed. It meant alot to me even though I did not know them.
I had totally forgotten about people doing that thing with hearses. I don't think I have seen that in years.Good for you.
That was a very nice gesture Zube. When Hubster's grandmother passed last spring we had to drive 30 miles to where she was being laid to rest, people stopped pulled over on the highway. I thought it was very touching.
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