The Password’s Lasagna.

As I left my house this afternoon, I noticed some footprints in the snow.  Always the reflective type, they inspired me to ponder some of life’s deepest questions — such as, “am I going to be brutally murdered in my bed tonight?” Let me backtrack.   I had come home from work, gone for an orc-run, and returned, all without seeing the footprints.  After a shower and an excruciatingly drawn-out session of nail-clipping, I went out the door, rosy cheeked and whistling, only to be stopped abruptly by the unfamiliar...and recently made...tracks in the snow.   They were made by someone wearing very ugly shoes.   A man-sized someone.   They had completely flat soles and were shaped like nearly perfect ovals.  They were distinctive.  They were hideous.   They were leading straight up my driveway.   Aghast, I tracked the prints.  They went to the garage door, paused, turned around, and disappeared....

You’ll notice we humans rarely talk about good things with each other.   Obviously, the dire straights, the strange weather patterns, the annoying people, the close calls, are much more interesting and have more humorous potential.   Yet I challenge you:  Find the good in today.   The sparkle on the snow, that patch of blue sky, your neighbor who shoveled your driveway before you were awake (my undying gratitude is yours, neighba’), the time you drank fifteen-year-old apple juice at your grandma’s house and suffered no ill effects...whatever it is that’s good, lovely, pleasant, noble...think on these things.   And talk about ‘em with other people.   It might be a short, dry, boring conversation... “Isn’t it great how the sky is blue?  Wow!” “I know right.” “Yeah.  It’s beautiful.” “Yep.” “...” “......” “..” “.” ...but try it.   Seek out the everyday glitter in life....

I had nice encounter yesterday.  I was at the grocery store, ready to sell my soul and make my escape, when it happened.  I was peering down the aisles, checking out the check-out clerks, looking for one who wasn’t: A teenage guy.   An ex-tattoo artist/failed rapper with a bitter heart.  That girl who commented on my ice cream preferences in a negative way seven months ago.   I was hoping to find a kind, comfortable middle-aged woman, or maybe that cute guy who was there last week and who I maybe just thought was cute because I liked his name (his name was NOT Elmo, in case that thought would ever cross your mind).   ANYWAAAY.  After six aisles failed to meet my criteria, I came to the last aisle, which was manned by a youngish woman.  She looked normal, so I stepped into her lane and set my groceries down.    As I did so, I glanced towards her to see more clearly who I was up against, and our eyes locked for a fatal...

Hi world! Hi new readers! Yes, I’m talking to you!  And you!  And you over there...and you, too. Hi. You’re my favorite people.  Remember that the next time you fill your cereal bowl too full and try to carry it into the next room and milk sploshes onto your hand...and your jammies...and the floor....and your dog’s head...and somehow, miraculously, onto the table and chair and sink and your couch, even though none of those things are in the same room as you. I’ve never done that. But it seems like it’d be a bit of a downer. So. In future, don’t cry over spilled milk - smile, because you’re one of my favorite persons and I’m watching you. I mean...wait...what?  Ignore that last part.

This has nothing to do with today’s comic, but it has been such a pivotal point in my young life that I feel obligated to share it with you. I’m sitting in a cafe, because, Weevils Instill Fear Incredibly.  A.k.a. Wi-fi. It is a small cafe.  One little room.  There are three other people here.  A woman drinking coffee alone, and a man and his wife with their baby, catching a late brunch.  I guess that makes four people but who has time for those kinds of details. Anyway, the point is, I’m not inconspicuous. There’s no rush, no crowd. And yet...(here I had to pause to let the tears flow for a moment)...an employee came into the room five minutes ago with a tray of cinnamon rolls. Orange glazed cinnamon rolls. I could hear her (five feet away) offering them to the other people in the room.  “Would you like a sample?  Fresh baked, orange glazed cinnamon rolls...we’re trying to promote our bakery...yum yum!” She offered cinnamon rolls to them all! ...

All I have for you today is a word (or 11) of wisdom.   Ahem.  Picture me stroking my beard a little.   ‘Kay.    Stop taking yourself seriously and start not taking yourself seriously seriously.  ........ .............. .......................................