(WARNING: this post contains repackaged material. Contents include:

~ bits from a post written this morning that was unwittingly and most stupidly lost when I decided to check on the spelling of 'nausea';

~ uninspired dribble due to lukewarm coffee and flat hair;

~ and guilt for my shrieking soul (kind of like the embarrassment a mother might feel when her 2 year-old pitches a 'Linda Blair' at the grocery store checkout); I know my soul should not be shrieking, but it has needs and wants and damn if there aren't some jagged edges on that demanding, jiggling cube of clear gelatin).

When I sat down this morning to slap up something to replace yesterday's drivel (FYI, I really truly thought y'all might be sick of me taking photos of the same freaking thing and toss down your popcorn and leave never to return but oh, how you people are forged of a finer metal than I--- more shame for me) with something that might make you laugh.

It didn't start off too well I'm afraid since T hauled ass up to Soliden at 6:30 am despite the fact he has a fever, chills, nausea, etc. In other words, the flu. He had to go since we have 8 guys showing up for work at 7 AM. Can you believe that? Arrive at 7 AM on the side of a mountain in sub-zero weather?

*Insert laugh track*

And T has to give them instructions and details so that they will have a full day's work and, unlike TV sitcom work, it's not something he could phone in. Meanwhile, I went to dictionary.com to confirm my spelling of nausea. Weird word. I'd hate to come up against it in a spelling bee. Why don't we pronounce it NAW-SEE? Wouldn't that make life easier for everyone? And, in the interests of TMI, there are about 3 (maybe 4) things I loathe LOATHE in this world and puking is one of them. Now, loathe-- another strange word.

Wait, enough with the digression-- was there a story in here somewhere? Didn't I promise some kind of funny winter's tale for y'all? Surely you're not hanging around just to watch me reflect on the body's power to forcibly eject deadly toxins? Come to think of it. Why would I loathe something that is there to help me? Why am I not instead AWED by the amazing forethought of our great Creator?

Because I am perverse and American, that's why-- a noxious cocktail of internal widdershins and self-absorption.

So-- the story, the story---

Some years back we spent New Year's Eve weekend with a bunch of T's friends. (Yes, you might think after this much time I might consider them my friends, too-- but you would be wrong. They love T. I love T. But there's not much love lost between them and me). We're there and it's New Year's Eve and we are hammered and we decide to go SLEDDING! Yes. Wheee--- so we head over to some big hill or golf course, I forget cause it was about 2 am and I was in the bag. We climb the hill and wow. The hill is very icy. And wow. The hill is very steep. And wow. Look at that two foot deep trench at the bottom of the hill.

But we don't care. We are wild and free and very, very drunk so down we go. And as you probably guessed, there was a loud crack, and much screaming and crying as Georgia (remember her?) broke her back. T and another guy also cracked their coccyges (dictionary.com is my bitch). So we got Georgia onto a toboggan and got her to the hospital where she spent the rest of the week. The next four months she was in a body brace. Do we know how to party, or what?

Yeah-- not funny. I know. *sigh* Why is it all my funny stories are more tragic than comic?

Hey, how about irony? Check this out--

Each morning the receptionist sends around an "out list" telling us who is not in the office that day and she always puts a touchy feely message at the top. Today's message (I AM SO NOT MAKING THIS UP-- I swear it popped into my email box not 3 minutes ago):

"Never continue in a job you don't enjoy. If you're happy in what you're doing, you'll like yourself, you'll have inner peace. And if you have that, along with physical health, you will have had more success than you could possibly have imagined." Rodan of Alexandria

*insert maniacal laugh track*

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