I was born in the morning, but I wasn’t born this morning.
So when I read today’s prompt – A Pulitzer-winning reporter is writing an in-depth piece — about you. What are the three questions you really hope she doesn’t ask you? – I immediately thought of Connie Chung.
And I’m not falling for it. I’m not giving any stinkin’ Pulitzer-winning reporter any ammo. I’m not even going to whisper it.
I got hungry, too, Wally.
Your rolls look really good, but I’m having a Daniel Dinner. God likes me better.
First off, Harrison Ford would definitely play the hub.
I asked my daughter who she wanted to play her and, without hesitating, she said, “Chloe Grace Moretz.” Yes, I can definitely see that.
“Who should play me?,” I asked. “I was thinking Holly Hunter because I totally identified with her character in Broadcast News.”
My daughter said, “Frances McDormand”.
“Frances McDormand? Why?”
“Because I loved her in Almost Famous!”
Then she described two specific scenes:
“Yes, that does sound like me. We’ll just pretend she was pretty when she was young. ‘Cuz I was.”
“Okay, then, you can be Diane Lane.”
“Yes, definitely Diane Lane!,” the hub agreed.
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Ready for Your Close-up.”
Cello. Old dog, new trick.
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Lazy Learners.”
I’ve been told I’m too sensitive for my own good, usually by insensitive clods who really mean I am too sensitive for their own comfort.
I’ve been told I’m too smart for my own good, usually by tricksters who failed to trick me.
I’ve been told I’m too pretty for my own good. Whatever, the pretty has long since faded.
Sometimes I wish I weren’t so smart.
Sometimes I wish I hadn’t been so afraid of my beauty, back when I still had it.
But I’ve never regretted my tender heart. I like that sappy commercials bring tears to my eyes and some movies make me flat out sob. I like tearing up when I read tender stories and witness acts of kindness. I’m glad that my sister had to insist that I not see Schindler’s List. I’m glad I have to quickly turn the channel whenever the Sarah McLachlan animal cruelty commercial comes on. Because I never want to be the kind of person who can stand seeing that.
They say a messy desk is an indicator of genius. And while my bedroom is always neat and tidy, my desk and my desktop are always a mess.
They say I’m a genius.
I have a junk drawer on my desktop – actually it’s a folder which I labeled “junk drawer.”
You know how you throw everything into your junk drawer to tidy up your kitchen just before guests arrive? I throw all my miscellaneous files and folders into my desktop’s “junk drawer” right before I head out to give a presentation.
So I can find the keynote file(s) I need right away.
And in case someone sneaks a peak at my screen.
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Sweeping Motions.”
Allegedly, I use alleged all wrong. As in:
“Where are you and your alleged friends going?”
“What do you want to do for your alleged birthday?”
“Is our alleged beagle still outside?”
To which my husband replies, “I don’t think that word means what you think it means.”
And my daughter replies,
“It’s not alleged, mom, it’s real.”
P.S. The alleged photo has absolutely nothing to do with this alleged post, but the soft-yet-bright pink color of my smoothie this morning (not adequately captured) was lovely.
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Dictionary, Shmictionary.”