Start celebrating! You don't have much time left ...

Hey there, blog-people. This is W.ink. I'm ink's long-lost alter-ego. The ink-ster's been kinda busy lately (you might have noticed) so I'm going to fill in for her every now and again. Hope that's ok.

I was just surfing the net this afternoon and found out a few interesting things. For instance, did you know June is:
- Adopt a Shelter Cat Month
- Cancer from the Sun Month
- Celibacy Awareness Month
- Children's Awareness Month
- Dairy Month
- Dairy Alternative Month
- Effective Communications Month
- Entrepeneurs "Do It Yourself" Marketing Month
- Fireworks Safety Month
- National GLBT Month
- International Accordian Awareness Month
- International Men's Month
- Lane Courtesy Month
- Perennial Gardening Month
- Turkey Lovers Month
- National Aphasia Awareness Month
- National Candy Month
- National Ice Tea Month
- National Rivers Month
- National Rose Month
- National Safety Month
- National Soul Food Month
- National Steak House Month
- Pharamists Declare War on Alcoholism Month
- Potty Training Awareness Month
- Professional Wellness Month
- Rebuild Your Life Month
- Sports America Kids Month
- Student Safety Month
- Vision Research Month
- World Infertility Month
(courtesy of www.brownielocks.com/)

To celebrate, I think I’ll plan a trip to one of North America’s beautiful rivers. After all, it will be a relaxing getaway from my hectic professional life and give me the opportunity to do some serious thinking about my future. It might not be easy to go, of course. The garden always needs tending (the deer have, once again, eaten every one of my roses!) and someone keeps releasing live turkeys in the neighbourhood with little notes around their necks saying “Fly, Be Free!” A bit odd, that.

I could let the cats out to deal with the turkeys, I suppose, but I suspect they’re far too attached to the indoor life to be of much use. Perhaps I should just pick up a big brawny tomcat from the Humane Society instead. On the other hand, it might be just as easy to scare them off with a few well-placed roman candles or bottle rockets. Then again … maybe not.

Now that school’s almost over, it would certainly be nice to get away from the neighbourhood for a little while. Not that I have anything against children, mind, but, well, you know what kids are like. Impossible not to notice they’re around. Actually, it’s not so much the ones who run around all over the place, or even the ones launching rubber balls of various shapes and sizes into my barren rose-bushes (although, if they start breaking windows, I refuse to answer for their safety!). No. It’s the little ones who keep banging on the door and demanding to use the washroom … excuse me, Manja, I meant to say the TOILET … at the top of their lungs. And even they’re preferable to the youthful shysters who keep leaving leaflets stuffed in the mailbox inviting me to visit their “I can’t believe it’s not ice-cream” stand or announcing their upcoming IPO. Honestly, sometimes I think the human race shouldn’t be allowed to reproduce!

Bluntly, it’s all a bit much to take. I’ll be spouting gibberish soon if I’m not careful! I’d take up drinking, but the accordion-playing Slovakian pharmacist next door keeps sneaking around and emptying all the bottles when I’m not looking. Could be worse, I suppose. At least he’s stopped leaving little notes in the bottles remarking on the soothing effects of music on the troubled soul. While I’m philosophically in agreement with his position, I somehow don’t think polkas are exactly what William Congreve (15th century playwright) had in mind!

Now, what I REALLY need is something that lifts the spirits, something that takes me away from it all. Like sitting out on the porch on one of those hot summer evenings with a pitcher of ice tea (home-made of course!) at one elbow, and a dish of jelly beans at the other. Now that’s what I call living! I mean, who needs sex anyway, right? Just give me a few scoops of Ben & Jerry’s and I’m a happy woman. Really!

I mean, it’s not like I was really interested in that biker chick anyway. Or the stockbroker she went home with, for that matter. When I finally got around to cleaning my glasses, I could see that they weren’t that good-looking anyway.

No. Think I’ll pack my bags and rent a bright red convertible something-or-other. You know, head out onto the open road, see where the highway takes me … What? Yes, Mom. I’ll wear sunscreen! *sigh!* … Now, where was I? Oh yeah … New experiences to taste, new tastes to experience. If I get far enough west, maybe I’ll stop off in one of those road houses called “The Big Ox” or “Meat R’ Us.” Or I might do a run down to Chicago and see if I can find that diner that Aretha Franklin owned in “The Blues Brothers.” Anyhow, I just hope I don’t run into any of those idiots who go 100K in the fast lane. In my current state, I might run into them a little more literally than I’d like.

Hmmm. On second thought, maybe I’ll just stay home – safe and sound.

Do you hear what I’m saying?