Over forty years ago, that’s FOUR DECADES PLUS, FOLKS . . . Clearing throat. Okay, over forty years ago at a dorm at Indiana University, one of the girls in the next room over came and pulled me over to her room. She and her roommate had been investigating mirror reflections and discovered that when one of then stood in front of the mirror, they could see space between her thighs; and when the other did, there was none – the thighs touched. They wanted to add me to the data and my thighs touched, even though I was thin. My legs are just more muscular, thighs and calves both. I mean, even with no fat, my thighs would touch. I have short, stubby legs.

We marveled at it for a few minutes and then went on with life.

But it is back, big time – or big thigh, as it were. Here’s a link ; it doesn’t give me the option to embed. It’s about teens’ obsession with the thigh gap.

A minute ago I brushed my hand across the bottom of my chin and felt a couple of errant hairs and grabbed for the tweezers. Had to pull them out NOW. I guess maybe after those 40 years, I should have learned something. Sigh, again.

I am waiting for the light above my head to go out . . . Again. I have followed the instructions for setting this timer over and overa again and the damn light is staying on. I’m glad I am experimenting with this set-up because constantly trundling off somewhere to see if it is working would have so tired and frustrated me by now. As it is, I am merely frustrated.

I could take a FaceTime picture with my little device here of my frustration, but most everyone would exclaim, “Oh, that is so her!” and probably print it off and put it on the front door to deter salesmen.

Well, crap, it’s still on; time for Plan M. I THINK I’VE GOT IT!!!!
It’s bittersweet,though – the light’s off, but it looks as if the light bulb in my head is dim. Did I ever mention I got a 76 on an online IQ test once? I know I mentioned it to Summer and that was just plain stupid.

UPDATE: Shhhh! Don’t let my nose know, but I have regained control of the keyboard, thanks to kleenex freeing up my hands. You don’t want to know. Oh, you probably already do; well, don’t visualize it.

Hi, this is AmeliaJake’s nose writing here today’ I have pretty much overwhelmed her puny cold antibodies and am dripping, sneezing and swelling up with mucous (snot). I own her face. She’s thinking about twisting kleenex and stuffing it up each nostril. Aren’t you glad you aren’t here?

We inherited my mother’s cat; Summer and Alison care for her. I tolerate her and she hasn’t killed me . . . yet. I’d say this New Yorker cartoon sums up her personality.

Yes, I need to stop looking at www.weather.com and buy a thermometer and have someone from Illinois call me about what the weather is doing where they are.

Today, this very morning, I looked at the weather website to see if there had been any sighting of signs of spring. (That season after winter.) But this is what I saw:

And this:

And, then, this:

They had to reach back in time for this one – June, 2010. I knew this Jesus when he was the Jesus in front of The Church of the Solid Rock just to the east of I-75, north of Cincinnati. In fact, I knew this place when the church was being founded (built) and every time I went north on the way to Dayton or Indiana, a big rock sat there with a sign.

This statue became known as Touchdown Jesus and many, many, many photos were taken to highlight that theme. Then, one day, the statue was hit by lightning and burned down. An eerie skeletal steel figure was all that remained. I thought I blogged about it at the time, but I can’t find any posts – probably because I ignored my resolution to make my post titles more relevant.

Looking back at an article about the incident, I see that it is the Solid Rock Church and not, as I am wont to say, The Church of the Solid Rock. Pity, I think the latter is better.

I looked at the Solid Rock Church site and there is no picture of the replacement statue, but I did find one at their facebook page.

Well, enough of this. I looked out the WINDOW and right now the sky is blue, so I guess I’ll stick my head out. (Maybe film at 11)

If you want to come into the Peanut Butter Cafe & Roadhouse, you have to stomp the snow off your feet – or take a mop and clean up the melting debris. As I sit in the old north porch alcove of this place, I am surrounded on three sides with bending boughs, weighted down with snow. (Fortunately, glass separates me from them . . . and the continuing falling snow.)

It might not be a bad idea to be snatched away for a little interview on the Mother Ship – as long as they are not slimy. I have a hard time dealing with slime.

Come to think of it, putting the snow out of mind, being on the Mother Ship when the END that www.weather.com has been screaming about comes could be, well, life-saving. The ship would no doubt have super radiation shields. Of course, there is no guarantee it would not be a radiation-protected slime pit.

Heck, snow in late March, even a lot of snow in late March isn’t that bad. We had a St. Patrick’s Day blizzard here about 40 years ago; I think it was exactly 40 years ago. Lordy. But, anyway, I wasn’t here then; I was there, trying to get here and when I finally did -some days later – the piled-up along the roadway at the airport was almost as tall as the car. This supports the theory that if you wait a bit, you CAN get from THERE to HERE, but that is the inverse of the old Maine saying . . . and this ain’t Maine. It proves nothing.

I don’t actually feel probed and I can’t tell if any samples have been taken, but then, again, who knows what happened in the last two or three days. I also have no sense of my head being taken off so I don’t think I’ve been “Miked”. So,in the absence of any evidence to the contrary, I must assume that I was abducted.

This morning has been a rough one – oh, nothing like leg-breaking or a deadly diagnosis or bankruptcy. Just a little minor spirit breaking. So I sat down to go about a few routine things, like the news and weather and Pottermom’s floors and I saw this:

I don’t know; I really don’t . . . but I just feel like sobbing.

The weather website is talking about ways the world as we know it could end . . . and a Senate committee is talking about a plan to intercept asteroids. Now I know the meteor hitting in Russia and the 17,000 miss of the asteroid on the same day is noteworthy and I, myself wonder about little companions . . . but maybe someone else knows something. Something such as SPLAT.

I may think about selling asteroid-deflecting hats – money up front, of course.

Just thought I’d mention it since weather.com kept talking about the end of the world. However, I did doubt myself for a moment when I went to that site and got the message the server couldn’t connect. After a couple of tries, it came up – still asking if the end was near – but, eventually letting me know the temperature is 24.

These March cold spells are nasty – wet and as Der Bingle said, the cold is in the air, which means it is like a demon that chases you down. Winter air is cold all over; you know it, prepare and move around in it like an astronaut in space. This wet cold is a predator and does a pretty good bitch slap.