lapels suck

By the time the damn my computer loaded I've lost almost my whole train of thought. I wish i could paint a train of thought veering wildly off its tracks but I can't. My adoptive sister, the elder spinster can and I'll post her pic instead.

As it stands, I'll just try my best to blog and not think about how this isn't a proper blog . Yesterday, was filled with chores and errands, a light lunch, and a catered affair. I spent the day in the company of mommy and the spinsters sisters and so it was a day filled with superb moments that defy any flowery detail. During the catered affair, of course, I had to multitask and prepare for my upcoming court date which couldn't come soon enough. Throughout the day yesterday I missed you, blog, but I also felt that I wasn't sure if I was cut out to be a blogger. I was seized by an insecurity that search engines would never find me or no one would ever link me to them. Patience, again, was called for and I was deeply impatient to see if patience would pay off this time around. I've never mastered patience and procrastination seems to be an offshoot of that. They say procrastination is caused by perfectionism, I suppose if you only can envision a perfect product then you will put it off and put it off in the hopes that said perfection will result eventually and any inferior result is not worth the effort. But, to have the perfect result you will need patience because practice makes perfect and practice demands patience. I didn't start this dusk hour thought thinking how I'll come up with the three P's and annoy myself with alliteration. I don't have any substantial readership so I'd be presumptuous to say I am annoying you, dear reader(s) book idea. The three P's. Dr. Phil? Oprah? It's all yours if you link me to your blogs. Persistence too. ugh. I've proved my point.
I have not mastered patience and so I'm bored with my three or four P's idea already and wish someone would just buy it from me.
yesterday, at the caterered affair Courtney Jane Freyman, a working mom, said, "This is turning into an awesome luncheon." I could barely respond in the affirmative as I was so overtaken by thoughts of how the word "luncheon." came into being and feeling of revulsion that she had used that dreaded word 'awesome' and had introduced herself as a working mom.
. Brunch was a hybrid of breakfast and lunch, that I figured out only recently. LOL. I just would say it or do it with out thinking about how it came to pass. kinda embarrassing. But luncheon, what was up with luncheon?
Before Canadian bacon, bloody mary's and mimosas became a staple of our modern day brunch, I wonder if there ever was a dinner lunch hybrid and what they'd serve. Linner? Lupper? Or binner if you put brunch and dinner or breakfinner if you have eggs and steak in the evening.I imagine I would have read or heard about it if there were such word engagements, Anyone have a link?
I clearly am not a linguist and finding a niche for for this blog is going to be rough . Maybe, I'll start a spanking new blog and it will be called linguistics for foodies or it will be about words and social anxiety disorders and I'll call it words for wallflowers or it will about....
We still do not know the origin of luncheon and here I am thinking about anxiety disorders.
All this makes me think of the comedian who is bearing false witness against me and how there are three instances on the Internet where it says she steals jokes and it makes me grateful that this is in writing, and that If she tries to steal my luncheon bit she will be prosecuted and sent to hack hell where she belongs. This brings to mind my other idea for a successul blog called What's your beef? exposing the vice in advice.
The word "beef" as used to describe a grievance has gone out of style but I still like it. It is without a doubt preferable to "Issue." or "challenge" and more slangy and fun than dilemma or quandary. Strangers will post their beefs to my blog, and I'll ask them what advice they got for their beef, and then explicate why that advice was all wrong and how advice is almost always wrong etc/ I recently said about the slippery fingered comedian .that I had no beef with her ,but now I do ,and my beef is sticking in my craw. Since I was nowhere near the Algonquin round table, and even if I was, it would be filled with tourists and twits rather than lyricists and wits, I noted (silently) to myself how clever I was and realized that much of my quotations have ended up in the ether and how tragic that very well may or might be.
By the close of the luncheon, which was organized to raise funds for asperger awareness btw, I felt sure that my whats your beef idea was a winner. I waved a phony goodbye to the other luncheoners and I got into my larger than life car and sped home. Actually, I drove within the legal limits home, and I saw a homeless man and a nurse passing each other on LaBrea and I thought.... TRIAGE. Yes, Triage. And I had this desire to overthrow obama, hillary, and mcain, and become the president right there and then: Triage: Change the country using the triage method. First take care of depression, then hunger, then homelessness, then disease, then any other malady that compromises the basics of existence and then worry about the damned environment. Again, I was angry at the limousine liberals and thier cloth bags and thier over weaning desire for fine wine and their flat breads and their efforts to protect ducks from becoming pate and pit bulls from extinction and then i wasn't sure if the republicans were the ones'protecting the pit bulls like they protected the guns, and I got all confused and didn't know who to blame and I wasn't anywhere near my blog or to becoming president, and it was all just painful. I noticed I was wearing an aqua bracelet and I became even further disoriented until I remembered that that was the bracelet to show support for aspergers and then I thought no no not the support of it but the effort to stop it and then that familiar sound, the beep beep of the car behind me. I gave them the finger and came home to you but adware and a downloader had slowed you to such a crawl that I gave up and just waited for my brain to go blank. Then, I thought how that young man had come to me at the luncheon and said, "I want change." and I fake poked at my purse to indicate fakely that I only had credit cards and how I thought why is a panhandler at a luncheon and how rude to just demand it that way, and then he'd said, "don't you... you've got to vote for obama." This all was irritating enough until I saw that he was wearing a lapel pin that said put more us in the us of a. I silently cursed my discerning eye and accessories that tried to communicate and that ends the luncheon and this blog entry. Much more to discuss taters but that will be laters.