A breath of awesomeness

Okay, so it's time to arise from the dust (a little) and post about something that doesn't have to do with ill health. (Although, I must mention that my dad's doing better, and that you all are awesome for helping with your prayers and good vibrations, etc. Thanks, yo.)

Also, I don't know if it's just librarian/book folks who will think the following vid is awesome, but...I don't care. Because I think it's awesome, and I want to save it for posterity (i.e. Future Me).

Be forewarned: it's nearly 17 minutes, so if you don't have time for Tomie dePaola with a paintbrush in his teeth, then wait until you do. Seriously. It's worth it.


BOOK BY BOOK: the making of a monkey man from Jarrett Krosoczka on Vimeo.

Hi.

So, I'm not here to be clever.

You may be disappointed, as some of you have come to expect from me (quite erroneously, I must insist) some pithy, witty writings based upon my life's times. (Not 'lifetimes.' That would be silly. I don't believe in reincarnation.)

However, peeps have been bugging me for ages (i.e. about the past hour) for a blog post.

Very well. I will provide sustenance for the masses, despite my writing deficiencies. I will pour sweet words upon your aching brows (sorry--just got an image of a medieval herbalist dumping alphabet soup over someone's forehead) and anoint the Balm of Blogging(TM) in your wounds.

You luckies, you.

So. Here I am, in Utah, hanging with my folks and my 18-year-old brother, who is soon to leave the nest (the same nest to which I have just returned) for a brighter, better life as a starving college student. (O, good luck, my bro.)

This will mean, of course, that I will be the only child left living at home. This will have been, I believe the third time (possibly the fourth? My memory of college is getting a little hazy--good GAS, I'm old) I have done so, and I have to imagine that my parents (in the privacy of their own room, of course) have started to realize and discuss just why Heathcliff Huxtable got so fed up with his own offspring.

Yes, I am in my parents' basement. Yes, I have no job. Yes, I do play video games. Yes, I am over 30.

Oh. My. Heavens. What have I become?!?

I must retire and weep.

But fear not, hope lieth on the horizon. Yea, it verily risetheth muchly bright morningish. Ly.

In short, I have a phone interview with a local library system on Tuesday. So, kindly keep your fingers crossed for me (but not if it means cutting off your circulation--seriously people, use some common sense!) so that at least I won't babble like a rabid monkey during said interview. Avoiding that would, I believe, raise my chances of getting hired. Slightly.

Righto. Now, I will leave you with a picture of a pig rooting in the mud. And that is all I will show you of my vacation to the Carolinas. Because I don't want to bore you. And pigs are kind of cute. In an ugly sort of way. Also, you cannot tell from the picture just how stinky this pigpen was.


Tata!

What's lacking in my writing:

OH my goodness.

So, I found out today that someone has searched my blog for the term 'nephew.' (Have I ever mentioned how much I love reviewing my sitemeter stats? (Which, incidentally, has led to the discovery that most people who come across my blog randomly find it by searching for pictures of Olympus Mons and gallbladders. Which. Okay. I feel a little weird about. But whatever.))

Anyway.

But the 'nephew' search made me think of all the things you might find or not find by searching my blog for certain terms.

Terms like 'cow.' Which shows that I write "Holy Cow" a heck of a lot.

Or 'monkey.'

Or 'poop.'

But it made me realize that there are some glaring omissions in my use of words.

I, for instance, have never written about gnomes. Or grease. Or gravity.

Er.

Maybe I have a thing against words starting with 'g.'

In any case, at least it's given me some topics to ponder, perchance to write. Perchance.

I wonder what would come up if I searched for 'perchance.'

Let's see, shall we?

I thought Mother's Day was supposed to be about flowers, not dead bug carcasses...

Who knew? I mean, I spent all those years coloring in crayon on construction paper, and buying kitchen appliances, and writing heartfelt letters. I never knew that what my mom wanted all along was to have all of us kids do a kamikaze clean in our unfinished basement, which until about 4:00 this afternoon was filled with boxes and boxes of old school projects, stuffed animals, clothing from the 80's and stuff from my mission that I never thought I'd throw away.

Oh, yes. And dead bug carcasses.

(Although, I suppose the 'dead' part of that phrase is a bit redundant.)

So, in other news, right now my entire family (well, all of the siblings at least) are gathered around our speaker phone in the kitchen, listening to my brother (now on a mission in Japan) talk to my parents. We've got people sitting on our (don't worry--it's clean!) kitchen floor, people perched on the stools at our kitchen island, and my brother-in-law gesticulating about a missionary taking a spider monkey home from Brazil. Ohyes. And, my nephew eating pretzels. On the floor. That might be a bit unsanitary.

And me, of course, sitting here, typing on my laptop, trying to make out exactly what my brother is saying while my brother-in-law is talking about a tropical bird. (He tells great stories, by the way.)

Well, I'm actually a bit distracted right now, trying as I am to listen to my brother on the speaker phone. So I guess I better go.

I just thought I'd tell you all that I'm covered in dust & spider webs, (and the ever present dead bug carcasses) and that from the roughly 10 boxes of shtuff I had sticking around in the basement, I'm down to two. And a half. I'm still not ready to toss out my discussions...maybe in another 10 years or so.