In case the title is confusing, 'goy' is Yiddish for non-Jew, goyim is the plural. Now, why would such a thoroughly goyish family have a book on Yiddish? For that matter, why would that family have an Elijah cup? (A cup traditionally used during the Passover.) Well, why not? We worship a Jew, after all.
Sorry for the absence, to those of you still reading this (about half a dozen if I'm lucky). I'm hoping that graduation will free up my schedule somewhat, but you never know.
Oh. And as an added bonus for staying with me, try to guess what cartoon Mary's been watching.
I honestly don't know which one is worse, this dream or the one where the car goes from being in park to rolling uncontrollably downhill. Backwards. Naturally, the pedals do nothing.
There have been times when I've thought that my subconscious must hate me.
Ever notice that the games on display in Walmart and the controls under them seem to be completely disconnected? That is, when you pick up the controls and mash buttons nothing happens. You'd think these demo displays would allow you to actually play the games, but that doesn't seem to be the case. Oh well, it's still cool to pretend.
Oh, and feeling like an idiot for not getting this out on time. I know updates have been a little irregular of late and I've been trying to get back on track. I even had this all ready to go yesterday. But, dumkoff, I forgot to actually post it. GAA! Oh well.
Could someone please explain why it's necessary to freeze our ears off in the name of beauty? It's especially cruel right after a hair cut when one's hair is still slightly damp from the washing and all the weird spray stuff they use.
I think I would have taken the notion of beauty parlors and clothes shopping a bit better if they hadn't involved, well, this.
Seriously, people, is it really so hard to explain what it is you're doing before you subject a girl to it? This isn't fun at all when you don't know what the heck is going on.
Actually, a picture book with various hairstyles to choose from might've been a good idea.
I'm Brigid, not my birth-name, but the one I chose for Confirmation. It's a Catholic thing. Want to learn more about how I grew up? Check out my semi-autobiographical webcomic, Mary Quite Contrary.
The closest I've come to earning a living as a writer is one summer I worked as a feature columnist for a small-town newspaper. I've been telling and writing stories my whole life, though, and, hey, it's something I enjoy. Whether I manage to make a buck at it isn't that important to me.