Monday You Can Hold Your Head

So this evening, wearied by a long day of nothing at my latest station of employment, I stumbled in to the news that my Pez were home and Entertaining.



Sometimes I wonder, as I watch my parents play verbal cards with their latest group of friends, how I factor in to their scoring system. If success is still measured by how well ones offspring are partnering up, earning or breeding then how much prestige do I bring with my unattached status, newly minted home-staying and random job prospects?

Luckily honorary guests of the evening were a lung-coughing-up artist and (I swear this is true) a cynical ex-Dutchman whose mother was the basis for Anjelica Houston's character in The Grifters . By the end of the evening Artist and I were helpless with laughter at potenial diagnosis for Dutchie ("splinter + knee pain + eyebrow twitch = scurvy, tetnus or some kind of malignant knee tumour") a newly turned hypochondriac who is working on developing a case for Type 1 diabetes that apparently involves bloodshot eyes.

They left with a floating aroma of "let's set you up with our son" so I s'pose my parent's stock still has some legs?