Monday, June 2, 2008

Newscast From My Brain... Traffic is Heavy...

These are the headlines of the stories I would write if I weren't feeling so
stifled inarticulate this morning...

"Why are there no black kids in the Little League?"

"How to avoid blatant proselytizing on your adoption agency's online forum."

"What part of my plea to your organization for funding for The Fistula Hospital did you find oh so titillating, that you thought it an appropriate time to hit on me in such a sleazy and salacious manner?"

"How to avoid spending forty eight hours face down in your couch weeping, after reading a one hundred and six page document about Harmful Traditional Practices including FGM."

Instead I will leave you with the traffic report, not from Los Angeles, but from Addis Ababa...

"It's a hot busy day in Addis and the the traffic has ground to a halt. A herd of donkeys good at eating fences, not so good at swimming have decided to sleep in the middle of the main Bole Road. The donkey-herd and then various irate motorists have tried to move the animals on to no avail. The sun is burning down and the queues are getting longer when the traffic police turn up. The donkeys lie there oblivious to the traffic police as they try and goad the beasts off the asphalt. The traffic police are exasperated and call the local militia (who call the army for good measure) and a squad of heavily armed, combat-booted heavies show up to clear the blockage. The closest donkey opens one eye. Closes it and go back to sleep. Just then a federal police car joins the back off the queue and after 5 minutes sitting motionless the two federal police get out and walk to scene of the commotion. One of the feds strolls up to the nearest donkey and whispers in its ear "the Federal Police need you to move". Without a sound the animals pick themselves up and skitter off the road... "

That is from Al and Sara's blog that you can find Here.

Sometimes, especially on a Monday morning, the only news you can stomach is the traffic report. That and the weather....

Cloudy skies predicted.

I have added a few new tunes that describe my feelings, particularly "Blindsided" and "Bittersweet".

I think I have opened the blog up for comments, so you don't have to have a Google account to tell me...

"Please stop anthropomorphizing your dogs!" or "No, I wouldn't place children with these people!"

I also have an exciting guest blogger who will be writing this week.

(Ass pic courtesy of warmsnow@ flickr.)

Happy Monday.


  1. Hey Julie,
    I've tried to leave a comment before, but I wasn't a googlee. I've actually been thinking of you and sending good vibes this last week in light of all the discussion that's been happening. Thought you might be feeling it too. Love your blog, thanks for your 10 step post too, think you may have finally helped my poor hubby unterstand it's not just me! He read your post and said "She's your new bf isn't she" To which I could only smile. Sara

  2. As always - great post! I really like the titles-floating-around-in your-head theme...

    I meant to give you the link to that FBI list thing, which is supposedly someone's efforts to tabulate and organize blogs and referrals:

    I can't speak for its credibility as I have no idea who's actually responsible for it.



  3., you are almost in the 20's. Can you believe it? Thanks for a very interesting, entertaining post.

  4. If you were living in chicago I could try to cheer you with a cupcake from the greatest bakery in town. Since that's not possible, and it might be weird to accept sweets from a total stranger, I'm sending you all my positive vibes. Don't give up-- lean on your friends and family to support you when you're low. The sky is going to clear up.

    Sarah R.

  5. "I'm not really like this... I'm probably plightless. . . I cup the window. . . I'm crippled and slow. . . etc. . .

    Are you kidding me?!? Why couldn't you have posted this song a month ago! This is the best cry your head off song ever! And it's so long. This could provide me with at least a week's worth of chest-crushing, eye-swelling, breath-gasping sobbing fits. Not today, though. But I'll keep it in my pocket for when my demons are raging again.

    I wish your head was a broadcasting channel and I could tune in and get the news. You know, the real deal news.

    If you come to Boston I'll get you the name and password.