I'll Take Chokes In The Final Round for 500, Alex

This is the last day of NaBloPoMo, Bloglines, and it seems like I should end it with a bang and come up with some special way to bring this fun project to a close.  But I can't write another word.  I'm all written out!  All dried up.  I've tried everything.  I've written about my dilemma to my MoFo sisters, and they seem to have some slightly misplaced faith in me.  Margene's response was, "Norma will come up with something.  She always does."  Pffft.

I thought of trying to celebrate the number 30 somehow, but did some Googling and was uninspired. I wanted to find a photograph of me when I was 30, but it seems that none exist.  I tried to remember what was happening in my life when I was 30.  All I can really remember is that I had really big hair (a curly perm - shudder!), I was 20 pounds lighter than I am now, I wore suits and high-heeled pumps and pantyhose every day at work (shudder!), I did Jackie Sorensen's Aerobic Dancing all the time, Abigail was four years old, I worked in the courts full time as an official court reporter, and I was closing in on a diagnosis of thoracic outlet syndrome which led to a really shitty 31st year when I was disabled for five months and started two years of intensive psychotherapy for childhood trauma.  So I really don't want to tell you about that. 

I took up the knitting last night, hoping to have a completed mitten to show you, but I didn't even finish the cuff before I had to hit the sheets from exhaustion.  I reasoned that maybe I'd get a bout of insomniac writing inspiration in the middle of the night, or I'd get up this morning with a fresh head, full of ideas.  Nyet!

Yesterday I eavesdropped on a conversation in the medical school building.  Two second-year male med students were talking near where I was sitting and knitting. 

#1:  "Hey, what's up?"

#2:  "I'm doing a little tutoring in a few minutes."

#1:  "Great!"

#2:  "What about you?"

#1:  "I'm heading home.  [woman's name] is mad at me."

#2:  "Oh, really?  Why?  Because you went skiing without her?"

#1:  "I guess so.  But she had five hours of knitting.  She never gets five hours of KNITTING, so I thought she'd be happy."

#2:  "Why?  Is that relaxing or something?"

#1:  "Well, she enjoys it.  I guess it's relaxing.  (turning to me)  We should ask you.  Is it relaxing?  Soothing?"

[I smile and nod, and keep on knitting, wondering do I look relaxed and soothed or old and wrinkled?]

#1:  "So I thought I'd go home and do some cleaning.  Cleaning always works."

I pipe up:  "The cleaning?  Good plan.  And cook a meal." 

They appreciate the maternal advice, and I got the answer to my question:  Old and wrinkled.  So I thought I could maybe turn that into a blog post, but I can't think how to write it. 

I got up and started reading blogs, hoping for inspiration to strike.  I did get some inspiration for knitting these mittens (pdf), but not for writing. 

I ate a gigantic bowl of some sort of sugar-sweetened fancy Cheerios product that I found in my pantry in a giant Costco-sized box.  WTF?  We do not eat sugar-sweetened cereal in this house -- we hardly eat cereal at all.  Would someone please explain to me how and why Abigail bamboozled her father into buying this one-ton box of sugar-coated Cheerios at Costco? (for I know it has to be she)  SHE certainly won't eat it.  HE won't eat it.  Now I've just eaten a big bowl of it under the pretense of hoping it will help my brain come up with a blog post.  I will not appreciate this at the gym later today, and neither will the Disney-cow yoga watchers.  And so far on the brain?  Nada.

I saw the cutest little puddin'head ever.

I saw the disturbing statistics at the Soaring Eagles Project
   

Received:
Mittens: 12
Socks/Slippers: 5

Needed Still (by December 17th):
Mittens: 236
Socks/Slippers: 69

I pledged four pairs of mittens a long time ago, and I've yet to complete even one pair.  I plan to get on that this weekend.   (Can you help, too, maybe?)

But still, I can't come up with a blog post.

Heehee! 

Comments

[beebs]

I'm sorry you feel "all written out", but it certainly has been wonderful having you around every single day all month long!! Thanks for all your time.

[MaryB in Richmond]

My family took a skiing vacation one year. They skied every day, I knitted every day, and EVERYBODY was happy! But people did look at us funny for weeks afterwards, like "Why did you go on vacation someplace you would hate?"

They didn't understand!

[margene]

Norma never disappoints...I predict you'll be back in full swing before the day is over. *Throws down gauntlet* ;-)

[Cookie]

Not old and wrinkled. That's me. You are wise and worldly. Plus you were sitting, so they couldn't see that smoking hot ass.

I've enjoyed this month of you bloggin' your brains out. Thank you for sticking with it. ♥

[Sarah]

Now that the pressure is off, you can enjoy things more. We're taking December off over at Caps for a Cure, so maybe I can knit some for the Soaring Eagles Project.

[Bonney]

That was one darn fine bloggin'!!!

[Betty]

That's some non-existent blog post you got there... ;-)

[claudia]

I'm here at a blog. And there is stuff to read. Which wasn't here yesterday.

Ergo, I believe you have gone and written a blog post bay-bee.

[Carol]

I'm sure when you come up with a post, you'll surely post it;) I'm ashamed of myself for not even looking at SEP. I'll go on over and commit.

[Vicki]

OMG, are you kidding me? This is CHOKING? Someday, years and years and years and YEARS from now (because you're HARDLY old and wrinkled), I'd love to witness your "last gasp." You'll buy yourself another six months, at least!
; )

I think I'll devote my weekend to mittens. Thanks for the tip.

[Marcia]

If it makes you feel any better, at age 28 I had a bad perm AND post partum depression. If I could survive that, I figure I can do anything.

[Carole]

I've got 3 pairs of mittens ready to go.

[marianne]

You are SO funny and SO not old and wrinkled! That news truly is disturbing... ok, I'll put down the blankie and get out the pattern for mittens and start knittin' them. Thanks, Norma... no seriously, I mean that... sincerely, Thank You!

[Kathleen]

I'll try to knit up some mittens or one of those magic 8 socks you were doing. Congrats on the blogging.

[Annie]

Congrats on 30 days of blogging. I certainly enjoyed reading your posts. Take the day off tomorrow and enjoy yourself! :)

[Teresa C]

Yeah, you sounded stumped there. Yippee!

[DebbieB]

This post was like trail mix - a little of everything, thrown together, to make something yummy. It's not going to go straight to my hips, is it?

[Kristen]

Yeah, let's not recall your adventures with TOS and other unpleasantness. Sorry to hear that 30 sucked for you.

The birds (and squirrels) will eat the cereal. Just chuck it around your trees out back. Or if you are feeling especially energetic you can make garland out of all those little Os with some crap-yarn and string it on the trees. That way the birds get food and nest building material. Or you could just dribble it along the trail on your next hike.

And I agree with what everyone else said--not old and wrinkled at all! More like sexy and knowledgable of the ways of men and women. Like a woman who isn't afraid to give men orders (or at least a burning clue).

[Julie]

You did great - and I will miss knowing that you'll have a post written to amuse me EVERY SINGLE DAY!

[Rachel]

Quite a post for someone who didn't have what to write about :)

[Sheepish Annie]

I'd say you rounded the whole thing off nicely. Congrats on surviving a solid month of posting!! I couldn't have done it... My hat is off to you!

[Marilyn]

Hey Norma,

Just wanted you to know that I love your blog and today's post was great! Loved the med school boys chat.

And it's over and you did it!

[Felicia - your Sock-3 Pal!]

This seems rather like a Seinfeld show. You say you have nothing to write about, but somehow manage to wrap a whole "episode" around nothing. Great job!

Good job on the "meal too" plug. I used to work in a home improvement store. You can't imagine how many men I told at Christmas NOT to buy the vacum cleaner!

[Felicia -]

Obviously ignore the "your sock 3 pal" part of the signature. NO idea how that got there and I'm babbling now, but whatever.