I just don’t know what to write about. With all the millions of things going on in mind, why can’t I pick just one thing and write about it?
I could tell you a story about one of my nephews.
The four-year-old decides I’m a rocket ship. He goes and gets a water bottle, and attempts to fill me up with “gas” – by pouring it in my butt.
Apparently, I have a gashole.
(But really, don’t we all?)
But I guess when it comes down to it we all have gasholes – even dogs.
Anyway, I have determined that “cat” is short for “catch on fire.”
We can’t leave candles lit, anywhere. If we do, the cat somehow catches on fire. His tail is always the first thing to light.
I guess because it is so close to his gashole.
(I’ve clearly been living with a man too long, as I’m starting to revert to little boy humour.)
Speaking of little boys… When my younger brother was 10, I dressed him up as a girl for Halloween. At our first house that night, a man put some candy in my brother’s pillowcase (the only way to go), and asked, “Why aren’t you dressed up for Halloween, little girl?”
Am I really going to put this up on my site? The horror. It’s almost like those dreams I’ve had where I’m in my underwear at school. And then I wake up, and I’m in my underwear at school.
Yes, at one time I thought slips made for really cool dresses.
Well, age appropriate cool dresses, of course. It’s not like I made my then 10-year-old brother wear one when I dressed him up as girl. It was far too cold that night.
Yes, I am the same Dahlia Kurtz with informed and strong opinions on everything from politics to pop culture… healthcare, poverty, pharmaceuticals, body image, the Middle East, Tyra Banks (oh, that one’s coming), Barack Obama, and more. But for some reason, I just can’t figure out anything to write about today.
My brain is tired.
I’m running out of gas.
Gotta go find my nephew.
Time for a fill-up.