[Written at an HTML training class - mind-numbing boredom]

Saturday night I made a late run to Piggly Wiggly to pick up a few things. As I walked out of the grocery store I heard the familiar boom of a high-powered car stereo. I looked off to my left, and there, rolling slowly towards me, was an ice cream van, it's driver slumped down low and chillin' as the tunes blasted out of his ride. I thought it was damn funny.

Maybe he's trying to pick up really young girls, I thought to myself.

So I'm in this class, right? And today and yesterday at lunch I've spent my idle hour browsing through Border's. Sonya and I went to Border's Sunday and got a handful of books and magazines. That's makes three days in a row I've been to this particular store. No doubt they're watching me closely, thinking I'm casing the joint.

Last night Sonya and I took my mom and grandmother to Landry's for Mother's Day, since the actual weekend itself will be busy for all parties involved. It was nice, if a bit odd. Buying dinner for my parents still feels odd to me. I think it felt odd for my mom, too; she fretted a good bit about how much the whole affair would cost. I soothed her as best I could, assuring her that I could afford it.

My mom got us tickets to Miss Saigon, currently playing at the Orpheum, at a greatly reduced price. This is wonderful, except Sonya is doing another trip to the dentist this afternoon. At her last visit the dentist told her that he would have to "stretch her mouth" to do today's work. She was quite apprehensive, both about this and the possibility of going to the Orpheum all loopy and miserable on the dental drugs. We shall see, I suppose. I'm not making any concrete plans 'til the little woman gets home.

It's come to my attention that my lovely sister, Dawne, has visited here lately. In the spirit of full disclosure that permeates wonderland 2, here is a Dawne Story.

One Easter, when I was but a pup (four or five years old, maybe?), someone thought it would be a good idea to give me some baby ducks as pets. I do remember that they were precious little things, all waddling and quacking and covered with yellow down.

Additionally, I kept the ducks in a suitcase. I don't know why this was.

Anyway, one day I was playing with my ducks and I discovered that if you held the little duck body in one hand and the little duck head in the other and sort of pulled they would make a neat little noise and their eyes would roll around in their little ducky eyesockets in a most amusing fashion. After I did this a few times to the first duck, though, he was none too active and ceased to be entertaining. So, I went through all my little pet ducks, happily wringing their necks for a few moments distraction.

[I should note here, for the record, that I am not a serial killer, even though killing animals is the first sign of the potential for serial killer-ness. I just thought they were funny. I doubt I even fully understood that the ducks were actual living beings, like myself.

I mean, I never tried to strangle a dog, for god's sake. And they were always around.]

My sister was babysitting me at the time, and she discovered me, merrily playing with my (ominously motionless) ducks in the suitcase.

Thing is, I hadn't killed the ducks. I had merely rendered them quadriplegics.

I remember my sister's near-hysterical phone conversation with my mom.

"He's killed the ducks, mommy, and they shit all over the suitcase..."

Then Dawne had to take the ducks outside and bang their cute little duckie heads against the garbage can until they were dead.

I'm sure this helped my sister prepare for motherhood. Really, how do you top a kid that kills his pets? And having to mercy-kill said pets?

I bet Dawne grew up a lot that day.

[Late night update: Just back from Miss Saigon. It was cool; not as sexy and funny as Chicago or as utterly, wonderfully cool as Rent, but very entertaining. They had a helicopter, for god's sake! How could it not be cool?]

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