Stream of Unconsciousness

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I have realized that any time use of a public restroom necessitates obtaining a key from a manager it's most likely because they are afraid someone will sneak in and clean the bathroom.  This is a given with regard to gas station type facilities but when in a groovy little boutique in a downtown shopping district it seems one ought to be able to reasonably expect a low likelihood of contracting hepatitis when one is emptying one's bladder.

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Expectations are premeditated resentments...or so I'm told.  Someone ought to put that on a button or something.

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I bought two buttons this weekend.  One merely had a picture of geek glasses on them.  I got it for Calypso (because she begged me for glasses like these) and snuck it onto the lapel of her coat.  I'm still waiting for her to discover it.  The other button was for me.  It reads, "Moderation (and plausible deniability) in everything."

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They are now making Chocolate Cheerios.  In spite of my ever so slight addiction to the fruit of Theobroma cacao, I find this disturbing.  Cheerios were one of the few cereals my mother allowed us to eat as children because it was healthy.  Cheerios are a cereal you can purchase with food stamps and WIC vouchers because it is healthy.  I can live with all the other flavors of Cheerios they've come out with but chocolate ones are just wrong.  If I'm going to have chocolate cereal let's not pretend it's something healthy.  Just go for the most horrid stuff you can find.  Cocoa Puffs.  Count Chocula.  Cocoa Pebbles.  Cookie Crisp even.  Seriously.  Little chocolate chip cookie shaped cereal nuggets don't even pretend to aspire to being healthy.  They just say, "Hey, you like to dunk your cookies in milk, right?  What better way to start your day than saving you the trouble of dunking them.  Just let them swim and shovel them in your face!"   Cheerios, please don't pretend to be something you're not.

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Likewise, oatmeal cookies with raisins in them?  Cookies should have no nutritionally redeeming qualities.  All that fiber and fruit is just a little too close to being healthy to be allowed to be a cookie.

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I've lived in my current house for 7 years.  Until this Friday all I had on my walls, in the entire house, were 2 deer heads (because Diana and Mr. Lime claimed the wall space), a wreath, a very groovy 3D metal sculpture, and a painting my grandfather did.  This has been something which has annoyed Mr. Lime greatly for at least 3 years.  This weekend I put things on 3 more walls.  He said when he came home he thought he was drunk and wandered into the wrong house because our walls have been bare so long (I contend they are not  bare...refer to the above list).  He seems to be functioning under the misguided assumption that snark will motivate me.  I will do more but it's due to momentum.  Part of me wants to snidely inform him that such comments will cost him another 7 years before I tackle the next 3 walls because really, this is not a thing to be rushed. 

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I used to think November was  not a very aesthetically pleasing month.  Everything is just brown and dying.  the beautiful leaves have fallen.  there is no snow yet to make everything glistening white.  In the last few years though I noticed the slanting golden light and the way it hits the frost covered grass in the morning or yellow stalks of dried plants.  It has it's own sort of beauty...something akin to watching someone sleep and seeing how peaceful they look

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This made me laugh.  I want one.

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