Saturday, December 6, 2008

Saturday Mornings

Good morning, afternoon, and evening. Welcome my followers, where ever in this the cyber space you may be. I hope that the week that was, was good to you.

It can be overwhelming, to decide what to blog about. Any topic, or prose one ends up taking, you take the risk of alienating several of your readers. Even if it's as simple as just reporting on the happenings of your family. I do not know, nor can I relate to being easily offended or taken off the mark, though Amber would probably be happy to share various examples out of my whole. Not that she is the type to do that.

Yesterday I came across a blog - that is nice. There isn't anything in it that would stand out to the casual observer. It's mostly a collection of poetry, and other muses that this person fancies. Yesterday, it received over 3,000 visitors. I don't know if I'm having blog envy, but I'm pretty sure that I experienced some shrinkage, and having the tail take its place securely between the legs. I still think that Steve's blog is better, but then I prefer watching Ren and Stimpy over having to think.

There was a study recently done, I'm not sure by whom, but it was reported on the Today show. The outcome was about happiness, and it being contagious. If you have a happy friend (No Grant, not that happy friend), that lives within a mile from you. Then you have a 35% chance of being happier yourself. If your happy friend (Stop picking on Grant, Steve), lives further than a mile from you, then your chances of being happy are significantly reduced. Ok - so I don't remember the exact numbers, or if the study was in fact reported on the Today show. Just Google it.

Gently rapping on the door. "It's eight o'clock in the morning. Would you like to come down for breakfast?"

No response.

Knocking on the door, while opening. "Good morning. Finally got some decent rest? I imagine so - after being up so late the last few. . . ."

The bed was unmade - meaning there were no linens, pillows, or anything to indicate that the bed was even thought to be in use. A quick scan around the room. Barren. The walls themselves seemed to have been repainted, because of the complete lack of photographs and other items that adorned them. The closets empty. The drawers cleaned out. The room was vacant.

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