Thursday, February 14, 2008

Words to live by

Someone sent me one of those sappy e-mails today.

You know the ones - toward the end, there is inevitably a line in which the author "had to hold back tears" due to some gesture or words from a noble stranger, preternaturally benovelent child, etc, etc. They always strike me as contrived and sacchrine.

O! Drippy Internet Wisdom! O! Chicken Soup for the Soul of the Glassy-Eyed Keyboard Kommando!

This stuff just grates on me. Apparently the writers who gave us "A very special episode of Blossom" now have too much time on their hands. I, on the other hand, am incredibly important and busy and have no time for this dreck (Um...pay no attention to the hypocritical woman behind this blog-o-curtian).

So I got this dopey e-mail. Not sure why I actually read it but, after I waded through the corny- corn of its literary manure, there was a kernel of meaning, and it was this:

Life isn't about how to survive the storm, but how to dance in the rain


My hackles went down a bit. I exhaled. I...I liked it!

I thought about so many friends old and new, and all of their storms, large and small; the Mayor's broken arm; Liv's Really Really Bad Week; M's marriage; my own marriage; friends who have lost spouses, parents and grandparents recently; the list goes on.

It's raining like hell out there, people.


That's it. I'm trading in my umbrella for some tap shoes. Who's with me??



4 comments:

liv said...

Well, I have recently cited that I like pina coladas but detest being caught in the rain. Maybe if we have some of those sexy new Burberry wellingtons that are all plaid and shit and some cocktails? You know I loves some boots. and some cocktails. viva cuervo??

furiousBall said...

someone stole two of my teeth yesterday, but unfortunately, my tutu is in the cleaners, ergo, i'm dancing in the nude, who's with me?

Oh, The Joys said...

Gurl, you are mighty hawt in that photo! Big sloppy dog licks to you.

fooped said...

Actually, that's not me, but I do think it looks a bit like me. Except for those fabulous calves and the jazz hands.

As I said to Maff, if it were me, there would be a little boy hanging off one hand and a box of cat litter in the other.

x