The future's so bright, you gotta wear shades

Necessary Update

Friends,

The tickets have been purchased, and outfit planning has begun.

Aslan and I are going to see Ke$ha!

I need a GPS to find my own feet

You know how some people can get to an unfamiliar city, glance around, and say, "Ok, so that's North-- we need to head kind of that direction to get to the concert hall."? And then they'll walk a couple of miles, turn fifteen corners, and arrive exactly there?

For that matter, you know how some people can get around in a city they've lived in for years, relying on neither a map nor a GPS?

I'm not that person. I have no internal compass to speak of, can get lost on a routine errand, and credit a combination of my GPS and Google Maps with my ability to find my own feet.

Last week, I visited Montana, and spent all of my time in a town that I have practically grown up in-- I've been there almost every summer and Christmas my whole life, and have probably spent more time there than some places I've actually lived (lookin' at you, Colorado!).

But can I find the grocery store? The coffee shop? My own grandmother's house? Nope. Absolutely not. Once I get off of the 90, I might as well be somewhere entirely new. (Well, actually, I finally learned how to find the coffee shop and grocery store on this trip. Thank god.)

You see, most people have internal maps that look like this:

I will take the exact same image, and by the time it gets to my brain, it looks like this:

I wish I was kidding.

You may be wondering if there is ANY exception to this rule. Can I find my way around tiny towns? Places I currently live? The home towns of longtime friends?

Nope.

The only-- only-- city I have ever been able to navigate without specific instructions?

Rome.

Go figure.

New Species, New Friend

I'd like to introduce you to Clover's newest friend.

As she was vacuuming up cupcake crumbs (cheerfully and willingly, I might add) the other day, she stroked the vacuum cleaner gently and turned to me. "This is Herbert," she said. "He's a Norwegian Dwarf Elephant."

Of course he is.

Have I mentioned lately that I love that kid?

Articulate, child!

Neptune has a habit of mumbling. And by "a habit" I mean "rarely can I understand the kid the first time around." I was particularly confused the other day, when he told me what character he was playing on the Wii.

This is what I heard:

Neptune: And this character is a Mennonite! He's got a baseball bat.
Blythe: He's a what?!
Neptune: A Mennonite.
Blythe: Look at me and say the word carefully. What is it?
Neptune: A MENNONITE.
Blythe: Can you show me it written down?
Neptune points to the screen. There, at the bottom, I see the words "Meta Knight."

A Mennonite is this:

A Meta Knight is this:

It's all in the details

Neptune: Toilet plunger is something that the kids love, but the parents hate.
Blythe: And the nannies too, actually.
Neptune: Yeah, it looks pretty gross. But it tastes pretty good. And I like the architectural detail.

Ah, yes. The architectural detail is just swell.