Diaper cakes, not so much.

I'll say it.  I don't like "diaper cakes".
They are the ubiquitous baby shower prop that is a multi-tiered "cake" that is made up of rolled-up disposable diapers, and then taped together with colored ribbons to coordinate with the decor of the shower.

Gross.  I just cannot see how something as nasty as a diaper should somehow be transformed into pretend food.  I realize that the diaper is unused when being integrated into this monstrosity, but - food, diapers...these 2 things just don't belong together, conceptually.

Equally revolting to me is the idea of individual diapers being wrapped into cellophane with decorative ribbon and twisted on the ends like taffy and Tootsie Rolls.  Mmmm, diaper candy.  What a treat.  The landfill is crying tears for your diaper candy, and anyway, who wants to have to unwrap all that jazz to get to a diaper, when the baby is in dire need of a change?  What a waste.

Yes, let's please keep polishing the turd.

I can feel the devil walking next to me

Jack FM, if you were a person, and not a psychotic radio station, I would say to you:
 
Honey, I love you. The world really is your oyster, but please cut down on playing  "One Night In Bangkok."

Oy - Every day is too much.........just.........too much.

I forgot - my life is terrible

Apparently, my life is terrible. During a recent visit, my mother starting crying during one of our meals, as if my life saddens her.  Clearly, we have different agendas.

She said, "Doesn't it make you sad?"
I said, "Doesn't what make me sad?"
She said, "Everything...doesn't this all get to you?"

Hmmm. NO.

I feel like any day is a good day, if I'm not so down and out that I'm wearing flattened waterbottles strapped to my feet as shoes.
Her day is bad if Starbucks messes up her latte.
Pretty much.

In other news

News helicopters circling overhead for the second time this week.

Currently, our flavor du jour is Channel 7.
Monday, it was Channel 4 and Channel 7.
Isn't the non-news tasty?

Oh, south side...you are never dull.
(But I kind of wish you were.)

Preferably where the streets do have names

No, Bono, I would not like to live where the streets have no name.  That sounds like a really bad idea.  I can't even imagine how much gas and time I'd waste, trying to find places.  Or, how would I describe how to get to my house, or go anywhere?  I know you were trying to be deep and esoteric, and hide from the world, or whatever.
But really, just.......no.

Oh so true. I think we all know people like this.

"A victim act is a form of passive aggression.

It seeks to achieve gratification not by honest hard work or a contribution made out of one's experience, or insight, or love, but by manipulation of others by the silent (and not-so silent) threat.

The victim compels others to come to his rescue or to believe as he wishes by holding them hostage to the prospect of his own further illness/meltdown/mental dissolution, or simply by threatening to make their lives so miserable that they'll do what he wants.

Casting yourself as the victim is the antithesis of doing your work.

Don't do it.

If you're doing it, stop."

You are so right, Pressfield.

The War of Art

I highly recommend reading The War of Art, by Steven Pressfield.

If you've ever had an inner demon related to expressing your art, music, creativity, or whatever.  Drop everything and read this book.

Whatever your gift is, it should come out while you're here and alive.

Thank you to my dear friend Stacy McQueen, for telling me about this book!