So much news

So much news! So much news. But my head is riddled with sickness today and I don't exactly know how to write it all down to give it the excitement it's due. Not well today. But I won't go into that much except that the 'clearly I'm dying' thread running through my brain can't coexist with this other. Because this other needs it's space and teeny tiny fireworks just for It. I'll be going on a little trip...I can say that much. :D
Ha! Today I forgot how old I was when questioned by a nurse at my childs doctor appointment. I don't know what need they had for the information, but I started with an I don't know, and bounced back between 39 and 38 until i gave into 39, the less appealing of the two, but I knew I was close to 40 and my nature is choose humbler, and that may not even be a word, but then later Steven told me I was indeed 38. Then he added that he was only 37.
And it's already been over 100 degrees, and not summer yet. My mother has been buying french mustard at the TJ Maxx, this super delish mustard, for a buck fifty. What a great thing, french mustard. Not be confused with French's mustard. And I guess I was thinking about the mustard and just popped in with that last part. And I read this thing that said brown rice was only alkaline is you chew it 100 times. What is that?
be back soon.

Well I'm sitting on my bed leaning over the laptop, with a string cheese propped on my leg. It's really difficult, trying to type with string cheese. Laugh, but it is. But people don't often think of getting a plate for a string cheese. They are quick 'on the go' foods, grab and carry. And the plates are downstairs. And everything else up here is fabricy or fluffy and that won't do.
I'm not really taking this post too seriously. (Not my usual serious self. ?)
I'm not because the other day I came to blog, and I was on a real roll. I'd written several paragraphs about that day and about the neighbors blaring Chicago or Peter Cetera or maybe ever Peter Cetera and Cher, and how it reminded me of high school chorus and how that high school chorus voice is the only way to make Peter Cetera any worse, then more about the neighbors and how maybe they had a Peter Cetera Pandora station, but then that they were elderly so probably not, then I rambled for awhile about how I unconsciously exhibited age descrimination, possibly based on my own mothers refusal to learn how to use her remote control. It was golden. The brilliance that poured and the revelations I'd come across while in the train of thought were remarkable!... but in a weird and freak accident, deleted. Never to be seen again. Only summarized stupidly and prefaced by my discomfort of trying to type while hovering over a frayed and ragged string cheese. And then how I don't like when the string comes off uneven from the main part when you tear at a corner. I suppose uneven bits of string cheese are a pet peeve. But a minor one. It's all the same once eaten. Certainly Peter Cetera is worse. And while I'm mildly complaining, aside from the band Chicago, Boston and Reo Speedwagon also are pretty terrible. (But Air Supply is good! Remember them on Solid Gold?)
My stomach hurts. I'm going now. I'll see ya 'round. :)