Notes From My World

Someone actually complained to me last week that I don't post enough on my blog. He was right; I've written a paltry four posts for the month of July so far, and the month is all but over.

So just to let my loyal readers (both of them) know that I have not abandoned my blogging duties, here's what's going on with me.

Aw, Nuts
In my never-ending quest to fool myself into thinking that I'm eating healthy, I decided to buy some almonds to snack on. Almonds are high in protein, fiber, calcium, magnesium, potassium, vitamin E, and other antioxidants, and they help prevent osteoporosis, which is particularly important to me, as I am lactose intolerant and don't get much calcium in my diet. However, I don't like regular almonds that much, so I bought ones that are covered in sesame seeds, which are held on by a glue of honey. Sesame seeds are also a good source of calcium, which is good, but I don't know if sesame seed and honey covered almonds could really be considered a health food.

But I like the way the sesame seeds do a little mini-crunch in my mouth before we move onto the big crunch of the almond.

The Great Tropical Punch Dive
Last night, I was sitting at the dining room table typing away on my laptop, when for some reason (it all happened very fast), my arm flew out and knocked over an entire glass of Kool-Aid. By some miracle, it went in the opposite direction of my computer (although that didn't stop my husband from giving me a lecture about how the warranty doesn't cover spilled drinks). It also didn't get on the carpet at all; the entire contents landed on a throw rug we have under the dining room table -- a rug which, incidentally, I have never liked.

When all was said and done, I was actually a little proud that if I had to spill, I spilled cleverly.

Thou Watchest The Latest Oozings, Hours by Hours
My local library has a decent selection, but there are several books I've been wanting to read lately that they either don't have, or the books are always out, so I've been reserving them. Once or twice a week, I'll get a call that a book has come in for me, and it's always a great surprise which book it is.

The latest, which arrived for me yesterday, is called The Last Victim, and it's the true story of a college student who corresponded with serial killers. The most notable of these was John Wayne Gacy, who ultimately invited the author to visit him in prison and subsequently tried to murder him.

I'm sure I'll have plenty to say once I've finished the book, but I very nearly didn't start, thanks to the asinine first sentence of the prologue, which was written by a former professor of the author's. I don't remember the exact wording, but it said something like, "it was autumn, but not the kind of autumn you would expect for that time of year."

When the hell else would you expect autumn but in autumn? What kind of autumn would you expect in another time of year? I have half a mind to write a letter to the man who wrote the prologue and complain, but he's actually written dozens of books and probably doesn't care what I think about his horribly written sentence, especially when I wasn't likely to read anything else he's written anyway.