It's all in the obsession with him.

I don't feel like I have had much to post about lately. And I would like to conjecture that it is because of this failing of my memory. It's almost a certain thing that there have been things interesting enough to pose over. But I cannot remember them.
What comes to mind in the few hours I have been thinking about it today are the following: I would think that friends would tell me if I had a big orange(ish) line of makeup running across my cheek, but they didn't and now I am questioning if they are really friends. Because while the media has taught us that friends do not let friends drive drunk, I believe that friends should not allow friends to have food-in-teeth, bogies, unzipped flies, lipstick-on-teeth or a spot of mustard on their boobies, and certainly not allow them to go all day at work with a big unblended line of makeup running across their cheeks.
Next, that my mind is failing me to the point that I have requested that my staff excuse my limited ability to accomplish things and am just about to resort to kneeling at their feet and begging for forgiveness that I haven't followed through on half the shit I said I would. On the other hand, I am getting better about fessing up to said memory issues instead of lying about it.
Then, further ponderings about how that baby and the dog are alike. These ponderings are primarily due to the fact that I can't seem to get my son to roll a ball to me, but he will however crawl after it, bite it, and then bring it back to me with his mouth. He's gonna have f-ed up teeth if he continues to play fetch with all his toys.
And the last thing that I thought I was thinking about blogging about was how awesome the peach and white roses that my brother-in-law bought for my sister are. They are opening up in the most beautiful blossoms that have almost inspired me to sketch, paint or photograph them in the most trite and overused manner. I don't care how overdone the roses=love=beauty concept is. And THAT really freaks me out. I have no memory, no creative ranting/writing juices and now I am actually contemplating painting a picture of a dozen f-ing roses!! If you know me, you'll know that I am creative and original and make fun of vapid ideas and art and design concepts. So....I'm scared for myself.


Which leads me to my final bit. I decided that since there is no creative nodes traveling through my limited orbit, I would just post some pictures. And sorting through my photos, I realized there are not really any really original, inspired or exquisite photos.
The only pictures that I have taken that don't include people since buying my camera in August of 2008. And 25 out of about 1000 photos are not of my son.
The first photo are some flowers, I don't know the names. They bloom in August, indigenous to Maryland (Baker Park) to rule it down. I can paint flowers deliciously. Not roses, of course. At least not since middle school (snob). But I cannot seem to photograph them well. More on that another time.
The second is Daddy cooking pancakes. He still makes them when the family all gets together. Though I am not sure him and my mother have allowed carbs to pass their lips at breakfast for a few years now. He hasn't used a recipe in 10 or 15 years. He doesn't need to. He can tell when the batter "looks" right through each stage. That's fricking awesome.
The last photo are the cakes that I decided to make after watching 1000 hours of HGTV and Cake Challenge on the Food Network while on maternity leave last summer. They were the only two channels with shows that I can abide that have the added benefit of not offending my mother during her stay here. Then I decided that I too could make a fondant cake. I was right. These cakes were friggin awesome. I mean, they tasted common, but they look like masterpieces for a first timer!!