Who Do I Think I Am??

This one's about over but the shoutin'.

30DBC PROMPT: "Have you ever wanted to trade places with someone else for a day, a week, or a lifetime? If so, who was it and why?"

What's the good word, dear readers? I gotta tell ya, they've been hard to come by around here the last couple of days, and with no explanation. And I'd like to say that with the help of these prompts I can swindle my way around a few paragraphs favorably today, but the end result doesn't often match up with the confidence I start out with.

All of my life, I've tried to resist the temptation to want to trade places with people. I didn't want the pressure associated with celebrity or the notoriety that comes with fame. Dating actresses was out of the question...I mean, I'm not horrible-looking by any means, but I'm not gonna launch a thousand ships with this body either. My bodybuilding days have long passed me. I guess I've always been more comfortable living in the here and now, as opposed to wishing and hoping and wondering. I'd rather stay grounded in reality than let my mind wander over what could never be.

And that said, there still is one person who I wouldn't mind trading places with, and that's my old self. Yup, he made mistakes and didn't give an eff say can you see, kay, but your boy over here still had a lot of fun and wasn't the slightest bit concerned with what the me of today has to contend with. And while I mothereff that guy a lot nowadays, I think I deserve some kind of vacation once or twice a year where I get to spend a week being soulless, moralless, clueless, aimless, drunk 24/7, unruly, obedient on my terms, and rich beyond dreams. Or at least most of what I just said, and without having to pay for it later.

BCF PROMPT: "What is your favorite family Easter memory?"

When I think back about holidays, and not just Easter but pretty much any holiday, there's a common thread that hangs them like a noose ties them all together: A holiday isn't a holiday until my crazy Italian grandmother has snapped and lost her mind on someone random for no apparent reason. Examples could include (but aren't limited to): ripping an uncle's brother for washing dishes, mocking a girlfriend's ethnicity, or openly questioning a child's sexuality. All totally unsolicited as well. She would get so wrapped up in her festive snits that she wouldn't even notice us kids sassing her back. Once she got going, she just had to go until she ran out of gas. Then things kind of went back to an awkward shade of normal.

I don't know why I mentioned that. Maybe it's because of a lack of Easter memories that really stand out. The most fun, and I'm sure this will be the standard response of a lot of people, is the search on Easter morning for the hidden Easter basket. For some reason, I enjoyed this more than opening Christmas presents I think. Probably because it was slightly more challenging than ripping paper off a package of socks, even in a tiny apartment. As we got older, the parent doing the hiding had to get more creative with where the basket was put, and as the saying goes, "to catch the crook, you have to think like a crook". That probably explains why my Reese Eggs were shoplifted out of my basket by my youngest brother before I found my basket.

There may yet come a day when I'll have kids of my own (it can still happen), and the hiding of the basket is something I'll look forward to. I do worry that my overly-competitive nature, along with my random forgetfulness, might wind up in working against me, and my kids won't find their baskets until the second week in June. I could see myself treating it like a game, and if they find the treats, I lose. As if Easter already isn't the last cool candy holiday until Halloween, I'd have to be the dad that would possibly try to make an entire spring out of finding baskets.

And with my luck and blind lack of sense, I'd probably do something seemingly genious like put a basket in the washing machine, and then forget about it and throw a load of whites or linens in later that day. Or place it in a garbage can. On the neighbor's property. When Monday is collection day. Maybe I'd find a way to get a basket stuck on the roof, only to have an enterprising child squirrel his/her way up there, nab the melted goods on a rare 70 degree April morning in NY, and then fall off the roof and break a bone, forcing me to spend the day in the ER watching bad movies on Lifetime. Well, I suppose it beats having Grandma Rosie screaming at you because your hair looks "fruity".

MUSICAL BREAK!!

Had a tough time coming up with tunes today, so I figured I'd stick with the Britpop kick I was on yesterday...

Na na na na na na na na nahhhhhh....

VITAL STATS:

After all my troubles with sleep lately, I think I can say I've had the most unsatisfying 25 hours of sleep over the last 48 hours. Don't even ask me how or why that can be possible. It should be some kind of illegal to be incredibly tired yet unable to sleep.

It appears that the doctor's office wants me walking even earlier than their deadline of my next appointment, because they called me today to see if I could come in an hour earlier next Monday. So even though I need to be walking before then, I really need to be walking before then. Pain, swelling and general discomfort aside, I may just say screw it and ditch the crutch and the boot tomorrow anyway and take my chances. I've about had it. I can walk a few steps, so what's a few more? Or a few more than a few more? Or a lot more? I guess the only way to find out is to...well, find out.

Have you seen the "Invalid Item" ? There's some great stuff in there, some nice features, and a chance to get your blog featured. How? Go visit the "Blogging Bliss Newsletter Forum"  and find out! blainecindy and the editorial staff have done a fantastic job.

I don't like to put carts before horses, but in the next day or two I may have an actual computer to call my own, and I'm very secretly excited about this in my head (I don't often show too much emotion outwardly). I don't want to say too much until I actually get my hands on it, but it's an amazing thing for this kid...the days of Blackberry Central appear to be numbered, and in the interest of consecutivism, let's start at "1".

And before I say too much, I'm gonna post this and get on with my life. Tip your bartenders and DJ's, watch your step, peace, and GOODNIGHT NOW!!