I don't even

Blogging has many challenges.  One is circumventing the cultural nuances of colloquialisms.  I'm not one to be too careful about what I say.  I often think I'm funny, and laugh loudest at my own jokes.  Sometimes I'm the only one laughing.  Not a problem for me.  However, I need to remember that words and phrases that resonate with my friends in Indiana, New York, or Florida have different connotations in other places.  

Recently I responded to Robbie at Tone Deaf.  He is sometimes outrageous and hilarious, often prone to honest self-reflection, and almost always British.  His post was hilarious.  I commented "I don't even know what to say." 

In the context of my life and reactions to others, that was a compliment of sorts.  It translates roughly to "I surrender," or "okay, you win."  In real life it would likely be said to my brother "Big D" with one hand on my hip, and one eyebrow raised.  

I think Robbie thought I was scolding him.  

We learn so much from each other.  

The Glass Ceiling

 I love the sound of breaking glass!

This election will never end!

I hope by writing this title down I will jinx the "Endless Waiting."  I'm using a little of that "reverse psychology" my old sainted Mother used to swear by. Also, I'm desperate for this to end. I have a bottle of expensive champagne in my fridge that I would like to drink in celebration sooner rather than later. It calls to me with a siren's allure.

We need to remind the Fates (those dangerously potent ladies) that this election has a life of it's own. Clotho has done her work, but Lachesis seems to be savoring her moment. Atropos can cut the thread and seal our destiny. Although, who am I to question Lachesis?  
 
Yes, I AM a little nervous that I've garnered the attention of the ancient Moirai. I guess I should include the words please and thank you. Please, ladies, don't let the lying liar who lies steal the election. Thank you.

Desperate times call for desperate measures.  

The three Fates spinning the web of human destiny, sculpture by Gottfried Schadow, 1790, part of the tombstone for Count Alexander von der Mark; in the Old National Gallery, Berlin.  From the Encyclopaedia Britannica. 

Stress Eating

When I'm nervous, I eat. I'm stress eating cold pizza for breakfast right now, and I will likely eat more for lunch. I fully realize it is counterproductive; however, I don't want to stop. If Biden wins, I'll start a healthy diet and exercise program Wednesday morning. If Biden loses, I don't know what I'll do.  

Wait a minute, I DO know what I'll do.  I'll start a healthy diet and exercise program. I've got 4 more years of resistance fighting in me.  I'm almost sure of it.

P.S. Halloween didn't help.  I tried to socially distance with the candy giving.  Only 2 trick or treaters showed up, 4 if you include the 2 mosquitoes that died and I found floating in my margarita.  Now I have all that candy left, somewhere in the house.  Tom hid it from me.  I love that man.  

Yes, I sat outside on Halloween blaring the Carmina Burana by Carl Orf, eating bbq potato chips and drinking margaritas.  Seemed appropriate.  Maybe a glass of wine, too.  Nobody complained.  I'm outta control.   

Here's the real thing.