Inexplicable Things

There are a fair number of things I do not understand in this world. I do not understand how to spell cappucchino (argh, foiled again), and I do not understand why, when Australia is more than 3x bigger than Greenland, Greenland looks 3x bigger than Australia on most maps. To be fair, I do understand that there are explanations (Italian, in the first case, Mercatur projection in the second), I just don't understand how those explanations work.

But this, that I am about to share with you? This I do not understand, nor do I believe there is a single logical, rational, or even irrational explanation for what follows. I received this in a fowarded email from my nutto little sister Crasey yesterday, and am inexplicably fascinated:

Apparently, a friend of Crasey's is getting married, and wrote the following note (verbatim) to her hairdresser:


Hi [name redacted],
I wanted to give you an updated list of how many girls will be getting hair and/or makeup on july Xth. There will be 5 for hair (including me) and 7 for makeup (including me). Do you accept checks for their payments? Who should they make it out to?
Thanks!
[Name redacted]

And this, apparently, was her response:

Hi [name]. Loken for to do your wedding. I well hav a assisten ef me your day wedding. I well col you getin clour. I wod leke to be paed in cach wf pasebol. I'm wk now I coll you tommor love [name].

Seriously? I neither understand, nor do I believe there is even an explanation because I've tried out every explanation I can think of, and none of them hold water. I am mystified, fascinated, and entertained.

A Modern Love Story

I suppose I should've been alert to the fact that, when I started dating the most handsome and wonderful man in the universe, other, less moral individuals, might try to edge me out. They might mistake me for a milksop, the kind of woman who'd give up her man without a fight. I might have kept my eyes more wide open, and staked my claim more publicly, but even if I had, I never would've seen it coming from whence it came: my little brother Bug. (Don't be fooled by that adorable smile!)



Well, Bug, you'd better watch it, buddy. I am not about to give this guy up without a fight. So you can hold hands with him,



And you can frolic in the water with him, leaping and splashing and jumping about.



You can share your favorite little dog with him,



And you can even let him spin you around and around



and around and around in the water.



And when it's time for us to head back to Texas, you can cover him up with all the Guys so I can't find him and make him come to the plane with me.



But I'm older and wilier than you, young Skywalker. I see his hand, waving at me from behind Brown Bear. So I tell you what, little Bug. I'm also a nice lady, and I love you an awful lot, so here's a deal. If you promise not to steal Handsome away from me...

I'll share him with you.



And we can all live happily ever after.



The end.

Hard to Write

I have been thinking about what kind of post I could write to talk a little more about Birdie, but in the interest of emotional health and stability, I think I need to wait a longer time. At this point it is still too painful. I will one day, when I feel more able, but that time is not now, so I'm just going to leave it at that. I'll be back in a day or two to tell you what else has been going on in my life. I'm managing to enjoy myself - I'm amazed at how easy it is to forget, to let go, and have fun, in spite of everything. It's just that every time I come home, she's not here, and my heart breaks all over again. I feel guilty for having enjoyed myself. And every time I open my blog, thinking about writing, this huge grief comes up and strangles the words right out of me. I know this gets easier, I know that with time I'll be able to talk and think and write about her without my throat aching and my stomach hurting and my eyes welling up with tears...

Just not yet.