Wonderland or Not

Tomorrow, or today as it is now, I’m heading to a dour city, though I hear there is a casino, (probably only slots I’m not sure) to solicit support for an organization I belong to. A multi state district convention of a national civic organization is going to hear a presentation by none other than moi – a solicitation for sponsorship more or less.

Yeah, I do other things besides blog, and go to school.

Doing school work and soliciting money in a hotel on the east coast – what a life.

I’m not even in a hotel/casino with the spa, that one was booked. The casino, as ratty as it might be, is evidently full of sons taking their mothers away for a four day weekend. This is the east coast after all, where do you think a son takes his mother on Mothers Day?

I want to make mention of the few things.

Cupie is Spewing again, and no Cupie is not a volcano. Cupie was one of my early adopters, who was damn lucky I kept her on my early adopter list as she hasn’t posted since last September, who I am honored to have been linked with since the dawn of my blogging career. From what I hear she now has a waist. How cool that must be.

What did I learn here?

Stop blogging get a life waist. It’s likely you’ll lose that ass as well.

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Speaking of the handwriting on the wall and idols ( Babylon etc…lol), thank god the white kid with the dredds is gone. You just can’t forget the words to Mr Tambourine Man, and crucify the Bob Marley version of I Shot the Sheriff, without causing your eleven year old fans to cringe, especially now that they are catching on to the fact that they are smarter than you.

They’ve put Bob Marley back in his grave now, the ground is soft there, and it doesn’t take much rolling to reek havoc, so please never sing a Bob Marley song again, and take a few history lessons.

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Last, but not least, on a rare personal note, because I’m in a musing mood.

I have a couple of friends who are going to accompany me on my “business trip”, at this most inconvenient time of the week. They are coming because I don’t want to spend a couple nights alone in a hotel in a city in which the best thing is slots, and I think horse racing ( we won’t go there). I’d rather travel alone in South American. Frankly I’d probably be safer there.

This leads in to a fact you may not know about me. I have watched the end of Notting Hill countless times. The end, starting where she tells him she loves him and he rejects her.

I dislike romantic comedies as a rule, but for the ending of this movie I will stop dead in my tracks, and remain motionless until Elvis Costello starts crooning “She”.

Why do I do this you ask?

It’s the friends of course. The end of this movie portrays the feeling of what real friends should feel like. What they should be. The friends to whom he tells the story of how he rejected the girl, the friends who agree with him though they don’t agree with him, until one doesn’t agree with him and who, by looks on their faces, jolt him into reality. The friends who rush him around London on his quest to find her, and who rejoice, with tears and laughter, when he gets her back.

It’s all about the friends.