It's Sunday. I spent the weekend at the cottage, and left the dogs home, ass breath and all. It's been a nice escape. Yesterday we went on a fun little adventure that involved a steam train, goats and pumpkins. This morning, I look at that photo below and thank you for your thoughts. I look at myself and I think where the hell did the time go so quickly. Although people who know me would say I look younger than my years, today I feel old. Ugh. Ack. I just wanna cough the evil phlegm up like a seasoned Lucky Striker. Cast out those thoughts. Onward and upward.
Ascender did a cool post on how your middle name is somehow related to the meaning of your life. I'm sure each of us can define ourselves by those letters. It's all subjective and depends on your self esteem. Is today the right day to tackle this for me? Luckily, my middle name only has two letters.
When I think of middle names I always think of my "porn name." You know, take your middle name as your first name and use the name of the street you grew up on as your last name. In my case it would be, Jo Cherry. Not bad, not bad.
Ascender says,
"The object of the middle name game is to list one fact that is somehow relevant to your life for each letter of your middle name. (If you don’t have a middle name, use the name you would have liked to have had!)
When you are tagged you need to write your own blog post containing your middle name game facts. At the end of your blog post choose one person for each letter of your middle name to tag.
There’s more to each of us than our names. We are all the thoughts, beliefs, quirks, experiences, dreams, lessons, and ideas that comprise a human being."
Here's a little itty, bitty somethin' 'bout Jo:
"J" is for Jabberwocky and I'm all for it. From now on, call me Jo the Queen of Jabberwock. Dreamy, creative, funny and non-sensical. Basically, my life doesn't make any sense what so ever.
Jabberwocky by Lewis Carroll
'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"
He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought—
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.
And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.
"And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!"
He chortled in his joy.
'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
O...
What O am I ? OMG. OM. OMFG. Nah. Let's keep it simple. I'll go with
Oasis: –noun, plural -ses [-seez] Pronunciation Key - Show IPA Pronunciation.
1. a small fertile or green area in a desert region, usually having a spring or well.
2. something serving as a refuge, relief, or pleasant change from what is usual, annoying, difficult, etc.: The library was an oasis of calm in the hectic city.
[Origin: 1605–15; < LL < Gk óasis (Herodotus) < Egyptian wḥʾt oasis, oasis region]
Yep, that's me. I'm someone's Oasis. I just haven't been discovered.
I'll tag:
J- is for the one and only J, of course.
O- is for Ouidra. You know who you are, most specialest.
