It has been a while since I wrote a blog entry.

I actually have 6 blog entries sitting in the wings ready to be written. Unfortunately for me, I just don't feel like putting them to "paper."

What is it? What causes the changes in my attitude? For now, I blame it on the sunshine. Yes, sunshine. I enjoy the sunlight and long days.

Is this what causes writer's block? Is it as simple as the climate? Is it the need to become a shut-in?

This brings me to my point (as I almost always have one). What do it really matter? I written 156 entries so far... for me. As much as I appreciate my readers, I do this as a form of psychotherapy. This is a way for me to get the stuff that is IN my head...OUT.

Sorry this is so short.

Did you know...

The Main Library at Indiana University sinks over an inch every year because when it was built engineers failed to take into account the weight of all the books that would occupy the building.

I have what I consider a large Native American nose. I am terribly self conscious about it and try my best not to accentuate it. Unfortunately with it being attached to the front of my face and all, I have a hard time drawing attention away from my nose. Don't wear sunglasses...that eliminates the eyes. Smile...that pulls to the mouth. Whatever you do, avoid my nose.

So whenever I even THINK there may be a bat in the cave, I have to figure out a way to excavate the item with as little attention to my nose as possible. Don't you just hate it when your are trying to hold a conversation and all you see is that crusty booger sneaking out from the bottom of the other person's nose? What do you say?

How about those people that have the Repunzel nose hairs? Are you tempted to whip out your swiss army knife, flip out the scissors and take a quick snip? You know as a friend you should mention it. But what if it is a job interview? I am afraid I would never hear the question because I was thinking of the 20 different ways to grab ahold of that nosehair and give it a good yank.

All this talk of nosehairs makes my nose tickle...I hate that.

But now, my ears have started to come to the forefront. As we age, it is believed by many that two things continue to grow: your nose and ears. Actually, scientist have determined that the nose is not growth, but droop. The cartilage in the nose is thinner and softer thus creating a droop. Noone has definitively determined that your ears and nose continue to grow.

The other problem with aging is...ear hair. It is one thing to have nose hair. But ear hair is a totally different story. I really can't see my ear well enough to pluck those nasty ear hairs. All I can do is either ask the Queen to help out or hope the hair grows long enough to wrap around the Q-tip when I clean my ears.

This brings me to my point (as I almost always have one). They have medicine to help hair grow. Why can't they make one to eliminate ear and nose hair. Don't get me wrong, Nose hair actually has a purpose and usually performs that function quite well. They snag the pollen and particles to prevent them from piling up in your lungs.

But, let's just make it stop. I don't want ear hair, additional or extended nose hair, or even beard hair. Give me a pill to make it disappear. Think about that hair in other places you would love to have disappear. No more shaving of legs, backs or nether regions. I really hate it when my legs have razor stubble.

Did you know...

Slugs have 4 noses.

I was notified today that my daughter has a new friend named Gust. Gust is about the size of a large ladybug and can only be seen by my daughter. Gust sleeps on the table.

Psychology Today reports that a team of Yale University psychologists found that pretend playmates produce a happy and creative adulthood. Led by Jerome Singer; Doesn't support the belief that children with imaginary playmates are shy; Flowering of the imagination.

This brings me to my point (as I almost always have one). How come adults are not permitted to have imaginary friends? Those who do have friends are considered to have Schizophrenia. They see and/or hear people that nobody else can see or hear.

Now I am all confused.

It is healthy for children to have imaginary friends, but it is a mental illness if an adult has imaginary friends. Why? If people are not hurting themselves or other people, why can't you have an imaginary friend? Think of how much fun you and you imaginary friend could have?

Take your imaginary friend on the elevator. Crack open your briefcase or purse, and while peering inside ask "Got enough air in there?"

Stand on the street corner with three of your imaginary friends and sing a four part harmony song...you sing the bass or alto part.

You and your friends will thrill and amuse many. You also will have much more fun with your imaginary friend. The expressions provided by others in your general area is priceless. Oh, Oh...make a new Mastercard commercial!

Think about it...

Taxi to the Magnificent Mile in Chicago from the hotel: $35
Tip to be seated against the Window at the Signature Room: $20
Lunch and drinks for you and your imaginary friend: $53
Seeing the expressions of the people around you while you argue with your imaginary friend about how hot the waitress is: Priceless.

Go ahead and talk with your old childhood friend. When the men with white coats show up, look at them like they are crazy.

Did you know...

According to the British Columbia Schizophrenia Society, over 2.2 million people in the United States suffer from Schizophrenia. This is 2 times the amount of Alzheimer's, 5 times the Multiple Sclerosis, 6 times the Insulin Dependent Diabetes, and 60 times the Muscular Dystrophy.

The Queen sends me to the store to pick up little items like hamburger buns, milk or organic macaroni and cheese dinners. The problem with me going to the grocer is I am often hungry.

Have you ever noticed that you tend to buy things you absolutely would not buy under filled stomach circumstances? Well, I do. I am normally a very practical shopper. When faced with the family sized bag of Oreo cookies, I often wonder what the marketers of these products were thinking...

Evil marketing genius: Let's put the Oreo Cookies in the largest container we can find and place it on the end of the isle with a great big "on sale" sign. At night, we will have the store dim down the lights and place the spot lights on our product as some sort of beacon to call the munching masses.

Don't get me wrong. I love an Oreo cookie just as much full as I do hungry. The problem is, I really don't NEED the evil artery clogging cookie of doom that I would gladly walk the 3 miles to the grocer to purchase.

But Oreo cookies are not the only item that brings me to tears and tears at my heartstrings. The last item I purchased was Product 19. For any readers that thought I just spoke in a foreign language, that is a type of cereal. It is a fairly plain flake cereal flavored slightly with malt and packed full of vitamins. I grew up on that and Rice Chex (which I still love).

I have been searching for Product 19 for the past year. Two days ago, I found it in the grocery store I have been shopping in since I moved here. Tomorrow morning, I will sit down with the gallon of milk and my two boxes of Product 19 and begin the feast.

This brings me to my point (as I almost have one). What does it hurt to fall off the dietary wagon once in a while? Sometimes you just need to eat the entire bag of Oreo cookies. Yes, yes, it is true the your system will purge it the following day through massive flushing, but think of how much the one craving will be sedated for another year.

Associate it in this way...When you drink an alcoholic beverage once in a while, you can easily drink again the next week or day. However, if you drink so much that you can't remember writing a blog entry, you stop drinking for at least a week or in the case of some people I know...forever. So, when you down the family sized bag of Oreos and have the trots for the following day or two, you will probably not want to see another one for about a year.

Hmm...I wonder what munchies are downstairs...

Did you know...

If every Oreo cookie ever made were stacked on top of each other (more than 345 billion...), the pile would reach to the moon and back more than five times. Then again, if placed side-by-side, they would encircle the earth 381 times at the equator.

As some readers know, I have a "slight" phobia of running out of toilet paper. Today, I received an email with the following picture attached.

As appealing as this looks to the phobic side of me, I really think there may be a problem with the presentation of the marvel in paper products. Who changes the rolls?

My wife insists that I do not change the toilet paper rolls when in fact I do. I insist that we always have toilet paper available at all times. Therefore, if I use the last of it, or even think I may end up using the last of it, I put more on the roll. It is our 3 year old daughter that burns through it and doesn't replace. Besides, I am never home to burn through it.

This brings me to my point (as I almost always have one). Why is it, they don't sell the Monster rolls you find in the restaurants for residences? Not the sandpaper version, but an Ultra Charmin version. Now that Charmin has started making the Mega roll, that cuts down the amount of changing that takes place, but it still isn't quite there yet. In a house full of women, that narrows down the number of changes to 2 times a day.

I want a large stainless steel wheel attached to my wall that is only changed once every week. Granted, the first few uses are complicated by the wheel's weight, but after you put all of those single sheets of toilet tissue together, you have enough to do the job. And yes, when the end gets stuck up in the wheel holder, it does require you to have that odd scrunched-up, fingertip-grabbing-the-end hand thing. But what are a few disjointed fingers for efficiency?

Lastly, why haven't they made the infrared toilet paper feeder? They do it for paper towels.

Did you know...

The right way to hang any paper product is flap side out. When you consider the state of your hands when you reach for the paper, you don’t want those hands to have contact with the wall or the paper holder or whatever surface that is in the back of the hanging paper. Additionally, on printed paper products, you can't see the pattern if the paper is on the inside.

The Queen has been introduced to a large portion of the Pickled Liver and Joliet YaYas.

While I was mixing beverages for the first hour after arriving at the party, my Queen apparently imbibed more alcohol than her body could successfully use. This happens to anyone who drinks one time or another. What does this mean to the other person...TAG, you are driving!

While everyone else is frolicking and feasting in the festivities, the designated driver's new job is to prevent serious injury of any other people participating in the party. As the Queen moved from the point of silly drunk to I hope she doesn't drown drunk, I have to wonder at what point does the responsibility shift from prevention to party dampener?

Is the objective to keep the party or event from turning into the paddy wagon pulling up to load everyone? When you are the designated driver, do you feel like the fifth wheel? Is the designated driver suppose to make sure the other person is not suppose to drink too much? What is the job description?

The Queen has apparently determined that she will not be participating in any more functions such as this. She feels that it is the DD job to control the amount of alcohol intake even if the DD didn't see but one glass of wine delivered.

This brings me to my point (as I almost always have one). Don't let a spouse be the designated driver. If you are going to a pickle party or just to the bar, having one of the two of you get smashed is not nearly as much fun as you both getting smashed and having someone else get you home.

A stranger is good. Just ask the guy walking out of the church across the street from the bar to give two of you a ride home. Other options include teenagers, cab, Amish horse drawn carriage, bus, walking, calling the police and telling them you have memory loss, and many more extravagant ideas.

I think her decision to avoid any further Pickled Liver / YaYa parties is a little extreme.

Did you know...

In Evanston, Illinois, bowling is illegal.