Irono.

I had all sorts of quirky little things to write about for today's blentry, but I just don't remember them. It has been a long (not bad, just long) day. I have a little brain fry. I am watching the cats duel with each other over their measure of catnip, separated only by the scratching post. It's pretty funny. My attention is seriously divided.

This week has been gorgeous. Cold, but sunny. This of course is because I put junk on the lawn that needs water and my hose is busted. So nature hasn't helped me and I can't help myself. I also haven't been able to cruise at all in the 'Vette because on Saturday, Grand Rapids' renown potholes blew a shock mount on it and I have to wait until the hose is fixed and some bills are paid until that gets fixed. Bother.

Rest assured the rain will return immediately upon achievement of those and I will be left to ponder the humorous and inordinately large role of irony in my life. Irony it seems is my patron fate. If we have guardian angels and there are patron saints, why not a patron fate that follows us around?

I rather like the idea. Makes me feel like perhaps some of the tragic (and by tragic I mean slightly annoying) things that have happened to me are not the fault of lack of talent or poor decision making. It's my patron fate's fault. Don't look at me, it was Irono's fault - yes, I have named my patron fate Irono. Deal with it.

Everyone else around me seems to have an external locus of control, (blaming environmental or other outside forces for their problems), so why can't I? I rather think of Irono as my version of Gazoo... Fred Flintstone's little alien friend over his shoulder that only he can see and talk to.

Regardless, I would like to go relax now. No visitors from Canada yesterday or today, so perhaps that was a fluke of people searching for any news of Osama bin Laden and stumbled accidentally on my blog. If that is the case, I doubt they have come away with a higher opinion of Americans after having read my blog than before.

Bon Soir!