Tidbits

When a lot of things happen to you all at once, it is called _____? There has to be a word for this. Something along the lines of that 'tipping point' phenomena, but on a personal level, and also without a result.

Why does being friends, or not being friends on facebook define whether someone is friends in real life. Is the definition of a relationship so pathetically labeled.

After years making hot water bottles, last night was the first time I poured the boiling water on my hand and not in the bottle. Yes indeed it burned. Today the redness not so surprisingly follows the same path as the direction the water spilled off my hand. Looks like a really weird sunburn.

I love when an idea hits you. I've got a few art projects that have been floating around in my head, and some are circumstantial like my bottle cap table. I need a table, and a place to work on it, and then a place to put it. Smaller ones include a finalized version of the tattoo I'm going to get. But the most recent is an art project for the boy. Since he's already seen parts of it, I'm not worried about mentioning a part of it will have fall leaves, all drawn by me. I've got a dozen or so already finished. (Interestingly it's sent me on a strange journey questioning the spelling of leaf plural. Which I'm going to say is leaves, I mean it's loaf and loaves.)

I'm reading The Devil in the White City by Erik Larson. The white city is the World's Columbian Exposition, better known as the Chicago world fair. 200 buildings in 27 months, with 60,000 exhibits. The Devil is H.H. Holmes, America's first serial killer (first well known and well documented serial killer). The book is dense, and hard to break into, it's not really a thriller as much as it's a Ken Burns style history book. If you like that sort of thing you may enjoy this book.

I have interviews this week, even if it is only for a couple temporary employment agencies, at least it's a start. A much needed start. I feel like I'm on the threshold of a lot of things.

I hate calling home. Not because I don't want to, but because there is nothing to say. Vaguely remind me of college the first year. I just didn't have anything to talk about, cause well nothing was happening that couldn't be described in one or two sentences. Eventually the awkwardness subsided and conversations became relatively normalized. But it's like the beginning stages of being away kids shouldn't talk to their parents. Or maybe it's just me.

Have I already mentioned that I have yet to see a single California license plate while in TN?

Please look for my up and coming extended my post about cats!