Try on or Frog

He was always with her, always with her, even though she had a misspelled name.

I write down the silliest things before I go to bed.

40 nuns on a hill.

What?

IKEA wheelchair larger & wider than a first-class airplane seat; leg rests so wide-set you could give birth in it.

I completely remember writing that one down.

Man next to me nibbling the buttons of his shirt.

I was in an airplane at the time. He was nibbling his shirt WHILE wearing it.

Boobs, jewelry, lipliner and heels. Must be a realtor convention.

That was the day before yesterday.

People, keep a journal and write stuff down. Lately, I haven't been as prolific as I used to be, so I am going to concentrate on writing little quips again. I think some of it has to do with the iPhone. It's the iPhone's fault. Instead of writing things down in those little 4.5"x3.25" composition books that I have tucked everywhere around the house, I've been tweeting or putting stupid things on Facebook. And the truth is, you can't write the really juicy and random things down on Twitter or Facebook because then people will think you're "off."

Speaking of stupid. I have spent the past couple weeks frantically knitting items for my third book. Anyway, I was knitting away like a banshee and even though I carefully swatched I didn't take my own advice and try on as I knit. The little voice inside my head kept telling me to slow down and at least try it on the dress form, but I didn't. And after about 10 days of knitting the sucker, I bound off in glory and promptly put it over my head. No sooner than I looked at myself in the mirror, it fell down around my feet. Know what this was supposed to be? An itty bitty capelet. An itty bitty capelet that sashayed around your shapely and ever so muscle-y shoulders.

Friends: Try on as you go.