Recently at work we were discussing Northerner's perception of death. Myself and my coworker were stating that it's so matter of fact there, that death is openly discussed much like what to bring to Aunt Ruth's Easter Potluck gathering. Should balloons be let off at the burial site or doves? Should someone sing or will that cause people to laugh? I don't even like the hymn 'How Great Thou Art', can Led Zeppelin's 'Thank You' be played instead?
This is casual dinner conversation.
Speaking of maudlin, it makes me a little sad that Frances Bean is the slight glamourpuss that she is. I wish her in flannels and dirty yellow jackets. But she's not her father, she won't know her father, and it's really none of my business.
Xander invented a fantastic game last night. We penned it "Funnel Wall". It involves a funnel, a wall, and an adaptation of Red Light Green Light. You have to shout into the funnel, "It's a wall." The rules are intense and highly changable at the same time.
Poor little guy is still sick, but seems to have consoled himself on the fact that "Dr. Green doesn't make me feel better, just cookies."
Currently anxiously awaiting for this book to arrive at my branch: Geography Club - by Brent Hartinger. I'll be reviewing that bad boy as soon as the person who has it finishes it. Which had better be soon.