The Great Tragedy.

The one I looked forward to seeing first thing in the morning, that always guaranteed to wake me up and warm my soul has lost its handle.



Twenty-three years is a pretty good record for a coffee mug.

Sure, with all the problems in the world, an out-of-season reindeer and bunny mug that was probably coated in lead paint seems small and unimportant, but that was my mug, and that mug fueled most of what I've done since 1984. I remember the Christmas it was given to me, I'd made a load of Pillsbury sugar cookies and for some reason I had the song Free Nelson Mandela running through my head all day. At that point I wanted to be some sort of 5th grade crime-fighting Martha Stewart karaoke champion, and the fact that this mug came with its own coaster that doubled as a lid turned me on.

You know I glued it back together. But I have no faith in the Krazy Glue, and not wanting to get completely intimate with a cup of boiling hot coffee, my reindeer mug now sits on top of my computer, but now the something hot and black it contains is a little plush cat.

I shall never love another mug the way I loved this one. No really, it's...not healthy.

The cake pictured was what my mother came up with for my birthday this year. It was a slice of white cake, lemon pie filling, strawberries, Cool Whip, sprinkles, and pure pain for anyone with their own teeth. I had said I liked all of those things, and I have to admit they did not taste entirely bad together.

The Great Tragedy.