I love the platypus.

I'm down to gonzo. She took all the rest.

Awww, but Gonzo is the BEST. Don't let her know that.

I won't tell her. I wanted to keep Kermit, too, but there was no way a frog was escaping her. I think Frog may be her totem animal, she loves them so much.

FROGS!

That is all.

Hmph. Cosmopolitan has a "What Kind of Sexy are you?" quiz online, and I'm a sucker for quizzes. Of course, the questions are annoyingly reductive (I had to pass up "goofy but glam" in favor of "sweet and sensual" despite not considering myself sweet or sensual -- but certainly not glam), but even so I find myself irked at the "favorite sexual pose" question (I guess position must be passe). It only has three options.

Emily, that quiz was meant to be broken by a Buffista. Are you up to the challenge? Send 'em an e-mail. Give them details. Make them cry.

That's, um, quite the random expletive, Perkins.

My mom just called to vent: Last night when the Neptune Society staff came to pick up my Cappy's body, Tania (his -- wife, I guess? They never married because he thought her son was a deadbeat and he didn't want the son to have any legal claim on his estate, but they lived together for over a decade and he introduced her as his wife [though he told his children that his ashes shouldn't go to Tania but should be buried with his first wife's, my grandmother's {which is a very ill-constructed phrase, I know, but anyhow...}])...

Anyhow, when the NS came to pick his body up, Tania made a fuss over the shirt he was wearing and said not to burn it or throw it out, she wanted it back. They noted this down and said the shirt would be waiting for pick-up along with his ashes on Monday afternoon. My mom said she'd be happy to drop the shirt off after she picked up the ashes. Tania looked flustered and said Oh, no rush, she didn't need it back right away, it was just a silly thing, she didn't want my mom to go to any trouble on her account, and added, "I might not even be around on Monday anyway."

On retreat? Quietly mourning? Dead of grief? "Ohhh... I might have a date."

Rationally, I know she's of a generation that believes you must be paired up or you don't quite exist, and that fear of letting others see your deepest emotions often lead people to say incredibly inappropriate things, and that she's had several strokes in the last year and has less conversational control and judgment than she used to, and that for as long as people have been dying there's been a tradition of snarking through sorrow and whistling past the graveyard. I know all this, and I know that I'm getting the story second-hand and who knows how it actually played out.

But irrationally? I seriously want to drive over there and cold-cock her. His body was IN THE NEXT ROOM, in the bedroom at the foot of the bed they'd shared for a decade. The fuck?

So not rational right now. PLATYPUS.

Oddly, that makes me feel a bit better. PLATYPUS. PLATYPUS.

JZ, that's... bizarre.

Rationally, I know she's of a generation that believes you must be paired up or you don't quite exist,

Not just that, but there's a strong ethos of having companionship as you age. That undoubtedly plays into it.

(Not that I'm condoning her swiftness of rebound OR the way in which she expressed it. Because, wow.)

That's, um, quite the random expletive, Perkins.

It makes sense in connection with Deena's post, which was just a couple before that.

I like it as a random expletive though, and I agree with you on Nadia.