I am confused

So sad. What a sad, sad week.

What do I mean? Well, for example ...

Sarah Palin could find no one to pray with before the debate. Pity I wasn't around. I would gladly joined hands with her. And offered to do lots and lots of missionary work with her. I mean, I was willing to get behind her for the long haul. Etc. etc. etc.

A co-worker and I were talking about exercise and so forth, and I said, "You can't escape genetics." And he said [about himself], "I already have!" To me, that's the line of the decade.

A person I have known for 33 years recently revealed to me, for the first time, that he went out with Michael Steele aka Micki Steele [birth name: Sue Thomas] of the Bangles when they were in high school. Sadly, they went to a Clapton concert [lame, even then.] Even more sadly, he did not seal the deal. But he is so much cooler in my eyes now. Does that make me superficial?

Baseball is almost here. But since my health woes, I just don't care as much about sports. They're fun, yes, but not that fun. But it is sad to think that this year there will be no Ben Sheets, Eric Gagne, Trot Nixon, Dave Roberts, Jay Gibbons, Daryle Ward, Aaron Fultz nor Brendan Donnelly. We all get old.

I have recently completed a mix CD of songs that feature whistling. Too much time on my hands, indeed!

I want Malcolm Gladwell's next book to be called "Harmful Anecdotes".

We have a particularly idiotic vendor who has this tactic that I find charming. He says dumb stuff then when you call him on it, he says "You are confused." I love that in a person.