My friend Christine is committed to making one blog post per day for the month of October. Not that i'm surprised-- she once made a blog photojournal of *every single thing* she did in a day. And she knitted a hoodie for her daughter. And she actually sifts the flour when the recipe says to sift the flour. So, yeah, she's committed.
Which made me think: Why don't I blog more often? I enjoy it. I like writing; I like reflecting; I like reading my thoughts later; and I admit that I really like the fact that a few people in the world read it. The only answer I can find is that i'm much funnier when i'm negative, and i'm trying really hard to stay positive. Cynicism is just so much funnier-- where would Jon Stewart be if this were a perfect world? And I also try to avoid political topics, which is nearly impossible to do these days in any dialog. And I don't want every post to be some pithy, trite tripe about parenthood and the ups and downs of living with a toddler. So what on earth is left to talk about?
Let's see. We could talk about art. I've been painting a lot lately, finishing 5 little studies and starting four 11x14's today. I admit to being obsessed with bellies, and with such an enormous one to hand, I always have something interesting to paint. And, yeah, I do actually paint ON it, in addition to using it as a subject in painting after painting. Have you ever tried to clean raw umber out of your shrinking navel with a baby wipe? It's surreal. And i've talked Dr. Crog into helping me cast it soon using plaster strips, so that will be really fun to document. And i'll finally get to use that embarrassingly huge tub of Vaseline someone gave us at the baby shower.
Which reminds me of the time that my vet friend in Clemson was going to palpate my horse for me to tell me if she was pregnant, since it was highly possible. He told me to pick up a tube of "personal lubricant" at the store, since palpating involves putting one's entire arm up a horse's pooper, and lubricant just makes everybody a little more comfortable. So there I was, heading to the BiLo at 10am on a Sunday morning in Six Mile, SC, on the lookout for a discreet tube of lube. Well, Six Mile is a tiny little town, and they apparently have to keep their personal items locked up, and the pharmacy was closed, so I had to go get someone from Customer Service to unlock the cabinet, and the smallest tube of KY Jelly they had was accurately sized for elephant palpation or squeezing Roseanne Barr into leather pants or something tremendously mortifying, but all the other alternatives included warming or flavors or other "extras" that weren't designed for The Mare's Pleasure. And there I was, buying a 2 pound pump bottle of lubricant on Sunday morning in a conservative little town, surrounded by little old ladies buying orange juice for their bible circle.
My horse wasn't pregnant, by the way. And imagine my mom's surprise when she came to help us move a year later and saw The World's Largest Bottle of Vaginal Lubricant sitting amid our clutter. That was fun.
Anyways, my point is this: it's hard to keep up teh funny without resorting to negativity, politics, or the adorable verbal foibles of my toddler. So some days, I don't blog. But I probably should.
As a last point in order, I hereby plant this in your subconscious: picture someone you know with their entire arm up a horse's betonk at 11am on a Sunday morning next to a gallon of KY Jelly. Then imagine what happens when they pull their arm out. Now, aren't you glad you're not a vet?
Let's stay positive, people!