And Then We're Served the Tiniest Ice-Cream Cones on a Friday Night, Just Because the Host is Counting Her Calories. Whomp Whomp Whomp. Where's the Rest?

It's all good. I don't need more than a nub anyway, but when you get the last bite of a cone (and chocolate is at its bottom) you really feel cheated that it really was only a couple of bites.

I finally quit working at 6 pm (no word about the day, as it was awful...as Shelbie Witte of Oklahoma wrote, "Today, I'm just about done with today-ing." I couldn't have agreed more.

Of course, then I was served an ice-cream cone for Oompa Loompa's to kick off my weekend.are 

And I think I need to channel the line from American Splendor "Another predictable disappointment," simply because my expectations are too high and I'm constantly saddened by the reality of others....not the ice-cream...I really enjoyed that. But the way our species operates in general. If I start expecting less and disappointment, perhaps I'll occasionally be surprised (like Willie Wonka was when Charlie returned the Gobstopper).

I need to wake up every morning thinking, "Humans are #$%$# $%#$% $#@! @@#," so when they aren't #$%$# $%#$% $#@! @@#, I can be, "Well look at that. Who would have expected such goodness from the species?"

It's worth a shot.

And here's to Friday night dance parties on Walnut Beach just to blow off the steam of the week. We all can use a few more dance parties....for real, for real.