Tuesday, February 5, 2008

Thanks Sir Paul McCartney, Thanks Alot

I can't get Listen to What the Man Said outta my head.

I don't even like the man...

Fat Tuesday

Goodbye hair, goodbye. I am currently bucking the trend of moving to Kauai and growing my hair out. Instead mine is creeping away in furtive inches.

Here is a little somethin' to celebrate Mardi Gras with: UBC numa numa explosion adventure ride fun

I'll be partying it up by finding a TV and watching the "Super Tuesday" results fly...and maybe I'll wear some beads. I know, crazy.

When I was little Mardi Gras or "Fat Tuesday" was the last day I could eat candy before Lent. My mom made me give up something I loved deeply (picking up the dog's poop or lima beans didn't count).

My deep love was candy, in particular Big League Chew (shredded bubble gum I would attempt to shove in my mouth until I couldn't close it anymore) or Fun Dips (pure sugar that you ate with, what else, a sugar stick).

But I was also a good catholic girl. I read my book of saints, i daily wished for the virgin mary to appear to me like the kids in Fatima, i would secretly size up the other kids in my first communion class and think to myself snidely when they would stumble on an answer, "maybe they should appeal to saint jude" (the patron saint of lost causes, and according to my mom, someone I should make a close personal friend).

So this would be the day I would ruefully chew my last Big League Chew and lick my last Fun Dip for 40 days. Any candy I got would be religiously piled on top of my refrigerator and I'd check on it every day, just to make sure it was still there.

Maybe I'll try to find some Big League Chew and blow a bubble in support of Barack.