Things I learned this week…and last week…

…that the need for a vacation from the vacation is a sign that said vacation was a smashing success.   I just wish the vacation recovery stage came with a pitcher of margaritas and a laundry fairy.

…that I much prefer the beginning of daylight savings time to the end.   You might think that this is just another one of my many irrationalities, but my reasoning, for once, is actually quite sound.  I have an internal clock.   I’m sure you have one, too.  I call mine the Beast.  He’s a snarky little bastard who lacks the ability to adequately adapt to changes in time.  While everyone else is hailing the extra hour of sleep they get in the fall, I am wide awake, staring at the bedside clock, cursing the Beast – and my husband who is happily snoring his way through dreamland oblivious to my plight.  In the spring, when the clocks leap forward an hour, the Beast and I again find a sort of harmony.  He lets me sleep until 4 a.m. and I stop trying to goad my phobia troll into pushing him down the stairs.

…that People Magazine, MSNBC, and Entertainment Weekly all tell me that the film remake/reboot – whatever – of the late 80s television show 21 Jumpstreet doesn’t suck.  Bite me.   What happened in the 80s should stay in the 80s.  Hollywood needs to stop re-imagining the films and television shows that shaped my adolescence.

…that Sea World San Antonio will require all potential patrons to navigate three distinct lines before they are deemed worthy of entrance to the park.  This sort of reminds me of the three challenges Indiana Jones faced in Petra during his quest for the Holy Grail.

…that there is nothing more relaxing than sitting on a bench, beneath a towering old live oak, and watching squirrels frolic through its branches.

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…that the animals are coming out to play again.  And by play I mean take over the world and relegate the surviving population to a small cornfield in Iowa – a fate worse than death, I assure you.  In the last two weeks, there have been four shark attacks along Florida’s Atlantic coast.   Luckily, all of the victims survived; however, when considering the close proximity of the attacks, one can’t help but wonder if this is part of a larger recon mission aimed at testing our east coast defenses.

…that sharks aren’t the only animals taking a bite out of the human race this week.  In Orlando, a woman out walking her dog this morning, was bitten on the rump by a bear.  Yes.  Bitten on her butt.  By a bear.  Clearly, Florida is a hotbed of animal revolutionary activity.  I am making a mental note to avoid the state for the foreseeable future.  You can read more of her story [here].

…that you know its time for a complete scene rewrite when your writing group asks if your featured character is a transvestite (he is not) and then proceeds to giggle themselves senseless at a string of sexual innuendos you failed to notice during the writing process.  I love my writing group.  They are the best friend who tells you all those things you don’t  really want to hear, but for your own good, must:  “Yes, your ass looks fat in those skinny jeans.”

…last but not least, this week’s awww moment is brought to you by this little guy who was a great source of entertainment for me while I sat in a San Antonio park this past weekend, enjoying the beauty of life.

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