forty? thirty-seven?

are they really that different?

yesterday was my take on the daniel day lewis starring, paul thomas anderson directed film, “there will be blood.”

except in my version the more apt title was: “there will be butter.”

having blown off another “l.a. workshop” in order to play with the family instead {can you say “flake?”} hunkiest, a backseat of white fur, 8 paws, and the feverish panting of a porn film, tooled around town in the prius looking for sweets, sunshine and coffee.

we found two of the three.

and although the the warm, strawberry glazed dough fulfilled my low, constantly second guessing at me, serotonin levels, and the coffee provided the 3rd of my 12 cup daily courage, mr. sunshine apparently had prior, more important commitments. 

stupid inland empire.

so the tribe and i got lost.

we forged our own rays of gold throughout our foggy, coastal town.

pit-stopping to bark at kitty cats, mewing over fancy shoes that blew the mind, but killed the feet, and devouring more powdered covered-confections which spiked our blood sugar levels and percolated our energy to obnoxious levels of public display.

grocery store aisles became batting practice {hav’A chips make for wonderful baseballs,} and william from the gelson’s bakery is the newest member of our acapella trio. he’s more of the tenor to hunkiest’s and my sopranos. we do a great rendition of adele’s “rolling in the deep.”

the beasts patiently and quietly waited in the car while playing leap frog between the front and the back seats. the prius lost in all rounds. 

 thirty-seven.

not at all where i expected or planned to be.

thank GOD!!!