The Therapy Journals of the Fat-Headed Klingon Woman

One woman's journey to becoming Her True Self

One Warthog, Ready to Ship! January 14, 2011

Weird Al Yankovic

Image via Wikipedia

Hello all.  This post promises to be incoherent and only mildly lucid, but with any luck it will at least be somewhat amusing.  I’ll tell you about the title in a minute.  First, a few random, unconnected facts:


1) My son is afraid he won’t be able to sleep tonight because he’s afraid of the Texas Chainsaw Massacre-er.   He got that idea from an episode of Goof Troop, of all places.  I hate TV

2) I am already recovering from my brief off-road detour from sanity into obsession with the DisBoards.  I still read them every day, but the top of the Theme Park Attractions and Strategies board is not currently filled with topics that hold any interest for me.  I recently came to the realization that I’m not going to be able to make it through a conversation without mentioning the D-word for most of this year.  Up to May, it will be excitement over our upcoming trip.  After May, it will be talking about something that happened ON our trip.  Or perhaps what I’d like to do on our NEXT trip.  Either way, the outlook is not good, as the Magic 8 Ball would say, for my conversation to consist of much variety in the near future.

3) RMB* and I worked on the storage shed today.  We cleaned out a bunch of stuff and brought some other stuff  designated to be garage sale fodder back to my house.  I was very proud.  And then I fell into the pit of memories of the days immediately before and after the tornado and the fire, and had a short cry.  We were talking, and he could tell I was about to start getting weepy, and he reached out and held my hand.   It was nice. 

4) The last few days, as I have taken the kids to school, I have said goodbye to Daughters S. and J. with a feeling of sadness, but also with pride.  “There go my little girls.  They’re such good girls, and they are so beautiful, and next year they’ll be seniors, and I can’t stand it!”

5) Yesterday I was talking to people at work about going overseas to teach EFL when the girls graduate.  Today all I could think was that I do not want to teach, not here, not there, not anywhere.  I don’t want to be 10,000 miles from my daughters.  I do not want to run off and leave them just for the sake of seeing what life looks like from somewhere other than here.  But right now, right this second, I can almost see it again.  I think I’m bipolar.  Or perhaps just the Queen of Wishy-Washy.  (Hi, GB!)

6) I had yet another moment of pride in Daughter S. and The Boy this morning.  Somehow, someone said something about ‘pancreas’ and both of them started singing Weird Al‘s Pancreas song.  I love that I’ve passed my appreciation for Weird Al to my kids.  Two of them, anyway.  Daughter J. can’t stand his music.  Poor, humor-challenged youngster.  🙂


And now, as promised, the explanation.  The title of today’s post was something I heard today at work.  Those exact words.  Literally.  Yes, that’s right, I shipped a warthog today.  Actually, it was only a warthog head, taxidermied.  But we shipped it.  And some kind of long-necked elk, and a necklace made from the warthog’s teeth.  (Which are abnormally large and sharp-looking, in case you ever wondered.)  We ship some odd stuff around there. 


Until next time,



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