How exciiiting! Can you say that like Robert Downey Jr does in Hugo Pool? I can. I never knew that mauve was the first invented color, or that Yarnwhore has a blog, or that Tracie got an easel and paints. Can I really be this enlightened just since becoming bloggy again? And without the "friend" politics of myspace even. And I hate Fucking Tom! Well, I should stop then. Sorry, bad joke, but he really grated on me.
Anyway, work is too fresh to regurgitate. Staying up until midnight with the yout's may have been a mistake, but really all was fine until 11:50. Suddenly, the anticipation of counting backwards from ten, for a reason other than someone being in trouble, fragmented a few individual's brains into shards of seizuring pinballs. Knitting needles, laundry bucket banging, and a third, most helpful child, informing me that I'm really not helping the situation by refusing to let them watch Tremors. That was my mistake. Not denying Tremors, (admittedly, a damn fine movie, but too much weaponry for this group), but turning to respond to Junior Staff with my arm outstretched across a doorway. Laundry Bucket Banger must have mistaken my get lost command to JS as the nostalgic, masochistic cry of "Red Rover, Red Rover, send Laundry Bucket Banger Right Over." And over he flew. Damn, that game is just as painful as it always was.
Apparently, regurgitation is not so much of a problem.
But, for those of you who avoid these situations and think I'm on crack, let's end with the positives. After all, it is a new year, and 2008 equals 10, which equals 1, which means we're all lucky. Before the demons were released, pictionary was played, vibrant collaborative paintings were created, fisher price toys had their moment in the sun, and What Dreams May Come made the yout's declare, "Whoa, Dude, that's intense." And it was. Happy New Year.