When trying to convince someone to do something never use the phrase "You can wear a cape!" as a selling point. Unless you actually have a cape.

I recently learned that this is true for both men and small children.

When the new Batman movie came out, Bert (of the Bert and Ernie roomie duo) was so very excited like a little school girl about it that he almost convinced me to go to a midnight showing on a workday. Wearing capes.

I decided that if I was going to be a sleepless grouch the next day at work, I was going to bring down as many of my corporate-world working friends as possible. And wear a cape. I'm really into this cape idea, clearly. Except, in presenting my idea to the gang, not having a cape made my argument a lot less appealing than I had for seen. The whole idea went out the window. Settle for some Dip N Dots and a Sunday matinee? Yes.

So, we saw the movie, loved it and had an all too elaborate discussion about superheros and their every day lives. What if a superhero worked as a mail man as his day job or in a deli? I give you: Salami Avenger and Night Chicken. We haven't thought this idea through.

Speaking of chickens.

I've gotten into the wonderful habit of coming home from work, coating myself in bug repellent and going for a nice heat stroke. I mean jog. This was a quick jog because, it's hot as hell in Texas, and I was chased by a chicken.

Yes, I'm sure it was a chicken. A real chicken. It made a terrifying... chicken noise and decided to CROSS THE ROAD to chase me. This jog ended with me running back to the house and slamming the door and not stopping until I had a pint of ice cream in my hand.

I wish this story ended differently.

Oh, I moved out of my Dallas apartment and to the country. Ok, so Wylie isn't complete country, but... yes. It is. Compare it to Dallas and it's a reverse Beverly Hillbilly move. Please refer to the above declaration of a chicken in my neighborhood and then disagree with me.

However, I'm only here for another week. This is just a little pit stop on my adventure, but more on that another time. I'm staying here to finish out my last days at the old corporate machine and then handing in my maracas. Literally. I have maracas and I get to shake them. It's one of the few things that I'll miss about my job.

Currently my stuff is in multiple locations and I'm living with my cousin, K and her husband and their 3 kids. And by "kids" I mean little fire breathing monsters. Pre-teen and younger, sassy, fire breathing monsters that don't get tired no matter how many times you try to turn "spinning until dizzy" into a group game.

By the way, when did a ream of copy paper and an old popcorn tin with broken crayons rattling around inside stop being considered fun? I used to be all about that. I still am.

I recently had a Birthday, so that means I've gained some wisdom in the last year, right? Well, even if that's not true, my brief move to suburbia means I'm already chocked full of more knowledge than I ever thought possible:

• DON'T HAVE KIDS.
• EVER.
• Middle names are for the sole purpose of letting you know when you're really in trouble.
• The only honest people in the world are small children and drunk people.
• Finding a Tide To Go pen in your purse is the equivalent of winning the lottery.
• Cleaning with kids in the house is like brushing your teeth while eating Oreos.
• Getting older means choosing an alcoholic beverage based on calorie count rather than intoxication efficiency.
• The people who need firecracker safety tips aren't the people who read firecracker safety tips.

The last 2 weeks of a 2 weeks notice are the least productive days you'll ever have at work. I get to the office and I'm already dog tired and by 10 am I can't look at the computer for another second without my eyes melting out of my face.

You know you need to change your sleeping habits when you wake up holding the back to your alarm clock, and the battery has been ripped out...



Mars Hotel by The Mayfield Four I'll always love this song and always wish that I didn't.