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Daria

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I don’t do well with boredom.

This is why you get a special Sunday Edition of howdoyoupronouncethat.

To be honest, I don’t have anything particularly interesting to write about. If left to my own devices I would be on facebook right now leaving snarky comments on walls. Actually, I did leave a snarky comment on my sister’s facebook wall. She said something about burning the candle at both ends and I said something like, “Stick your head in the oven again?”, but my memory’s a little fuzzy on that end. Thankfully, Joanna talked me down and suggested I do something constructive rather than offending the few friends I have that tolerate my violent and unpredictable mood swings. However, that’s an entirely separate blog post.

For the last four hours I’ve been watching Daria and battling an insane case of the munchies. For those of you who don’t remember the 90s, Daria was a cartoon on MTV about a cyncial, smart-mouthed teen and her family and friends. It’s fun, witty, and helped hone my sardonic disposition. Watching it is like watching my childhood. Only I didn’t wear combat boots in high school. I was a music/theatre geek. Actually my high school experience was a little less combat boot a little once more with feeling. My senior year I was voted Best Actress, however, I think that had less to do with my acting ability and more to do with the fact that I knew people.

This is not to say that I was popular in any way, shape, or form.

Thinking back on it now, I don’t think my high school had a popular group.

If it did then I was too self-absorbed to notice.

Yes, there were kids that many people knew, but I wouldn’t say they were popular. It wasn’t as though the ebb and flow of high school culture relied on their opinion. That’s why I’ll always have a special place in that hellmouth I call a heart for my high school. It wasn’t the most privileged place, but it had soul. Huh, I don’t really feel like waxing on and off about my high school.

It deserves it’s own blog post.

Instead I’ll share a new Emmalyn story with you all.

Around 6pm this evening, I received this picture from my sister.

At first I had a hard time making it out, until I read the caption “Emmalyn was playing with Dad’s glasses.”

Then I fell over laughing.

Poor He-Man.

About an hour later, my sister sent me this text, “Emmalyn just went in to Dad and he said, ‘You twist up my damn glasses. They can’t even sit on my face.'”

And he was so gung-ho about grandchildren…

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