I’m sitting here by myself in a voluminous yellow skirt with enough frills and frou-frous to engulf a small nation. And I’m wearing it for no other reason than because it makes me feel pretty.  I’m typing this between bites of my dinner, which happens to be a baked potato with the wrong color cheese.  My cheddar cheese is free of baby cow stomach and it’s white.  Thus, my cheese disappears completely in the monochromatic wasteland that is squished up potato and sour cream.  Orange cheese is what gives baked potatoes that technicolor Wonderland splendor.  Cheddar cheese is supposed to be orange – this is what part of my brain (probably the analytical left side) keeps saying.  The right hemisphere is all, “Hellllloo? We’re enlightened over here now, so suck it up, you ninny.”  My hemispheres are always quibbling like this. If it’s not over cheese color then it’s over who’s in charge: the belly dancer or the professor. Why can’t they just get along? I wonder what effect (if any) a corpus callostomy would have on this situation.

I’ve met today’s guidelines. 

Meditation on Sound

U2: Magnificient, Beautiful Day, and With or Without You

John William’s entire soundtrack from Memoirs of a Geisha

DeVotchKa’s Death by Blonde

Caspian Hat Dance’s Bakalaika

I probably drive my office neighbors nuts.

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