And So This Week…

Perhaps it was the eclipse. Perhaps it’s just me. Thoughts of the weird circled about this week.

I’ve never seen Game of Thrones. Thoughts are stirred when a dear friend returns from Scotland to show pics where they actually film and their historical importance. Over the next couple of days, I suffer FOMO, a rarity, and now need to watch the show. I discuss with Middle Chicken. She agrees we are outliers. We’ve committed to a September binge. She moves in October, thus the rush.

I find on Buzzfeed that I am a spelling genius and based on my astrological sign, boring when it comes to food. True on both counts. How’d they do that? You can check on yourself here.

Question posed: Do you ever look up people who are “less than your favorites” on Facebook? Well, duh. I try to avoid it ‘cuz if their lives are great, I get all grumpy. Feeling a bit vengey, I check a few this morning. One got a divorce. Hmm, I’d like to say sorry but there’s that, “You’ve always been mean,” thing, so, you know, just desserts.

Fell off the ice cream truck twice since last report. Not in the know? After chemo, I could not gain weight. Docs suggest full fat ice cream. Coffee flavored Haagen Dazs becomes both savior and downfall. Ass widens. Of all the cancer drugs prescribed, ice cream turns out to be the one I can’t kick. The longest stretch? Eight days. About to beat that by two days; sweating at the writing. Last night, tossed all cartons, which at the height of dependence were a serving size. Rehab is calling.

Other cancer news: It took two years for my throat to handle wine again. I know, heartbreaking. Now that it does, they’ve welcomed me back at Total Wine. Some even clapped at my return. D’Autrefois Pinot Noir and Ecco Pinot Grigio are experiencing a rise in stock price. You’re welcome.

Rose and Jack are spending time together. Kate Winslet and Leonardo DeCaprio are hanging on vacay and the internet is losing its mind. Does anyone else not get the Leonardo attraction? Does he not look like a child? Was Jack not a baby to Rose’s grown woman? The man’s revolving door of models remains a mystery.

But then I have a thing for Kid Rock. No accounting for taste, right? A close girlfriend tells me a friend had some play time with him after a concert. I look at her, astonished, and she holds up her pinky finger and says, “Sorry.” Just last week I’m watching a video of “Picture” live in concert and all I can think of is my friend’s pinky and her sincere apology.

Told you it was a weird week. I blame the moon.

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