A LOT

Allie of Hyperbole and a Half wins the internet

I get annoyed when bloggers apologize at the beginning of a post about being absent, like while they were NOT blogging teeming masses of thousands were grinding their teeth and pulling out large handfuls of their own hair from lack of entertainment. Get a grip. Blogging is a weird glorified diary and I love/hate it.

Anyway, sorry about the radio silence. I can count the people who noticed on less than two hands.

We've had a house full of snotting sissies all week. I thought I was over it only to find it had morphed inside my body-oven into a new and improved strain with ultra exciting feverish symptoms. I just called in to work, which I didn't even do when I was nine months pregnant. Twice.

Even so, we haven't been idle in our little infirmary. Today Ruby and I wrote a story, bound it and illustrated it. Well, almost finished. I purchased some awesome ceramic pens with which I decorated a coffee mug for my husband and baked into posterity, Evan has been designing the cover for the new album, having rehearsals and writing instrumental songs for film. And we've been spring cleaning. You know what I mean. "Do you still like these pants of yours" Trash! "Do you think it's okay to throw away some of Ruby's large scribble paintings?" Trash! "Are these documents REALLY important?" Trash! "Is this horrible shredded comforter holding sentimental value for you?" Trash! "Is this cottage cheese or macaroni?" Trash!

Satisfying.

Also satisfying? Hyperbole and a Half. This blog is so clever and well drawn and hilarious that instead of making me want to strive for her caliber it pushes me over the edge into realizing that my own corner of the internet is so pasty in comparison that I should shoot it in the head and put it out of it's misery forever.  I hope you've already seen her work or at least go there right this second.

I did just get a working scanner so I can finally draw some comics about my family and put them here. I'll decide whether to be inspired or discouraged once I stop wincing in pain when anything touches my fevered stupid skin and my teeth stop reminding me of wood. Go to bed Shayla!