Showing posts with label fitting in. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fitting in. Show all posts

Friday, May 17, 2019

I'm Not Here

Thought for the day: Yesterday, upon the stair, I met a man who wasn't there. He wasn't there again today. I wish, I wish he'd go away. [Hughes Mearns, from his poem Antigonish]

[source: unsplash]
I'm not here, either. I'm not getting all woo-woo weird on you, (Okay... weirder...) but I'm not gonna be hanging around on Blogger for a while. I'll tell you about it... later. You know, when I'm no longer not here. Or there. 



In the meantime, since I already took the entire month of April off, I figured I should at least leave you with some kinda post. So here goes... some kinda post:




Are you some somma kind of chameleon? I mean, do you change your behavior or appearance so you can blend in better with your surroundings and with the people around you? Shakespeare's Polonius was one smart dude when he told his son, To thine own self be true, but to some extent, I think most of us are occasionally more intent on fitting in than we are in being ourselves. Which isn't necessarily a bad thing. After all, the language you use and the clothes you wear when you're with your friends might not go over too well with your grandmother. (ahem) Unless she's a cool chick like me, that is. HA!

Here are some fun pics of some critters who just wanted to be one of the gang...






Then again, Roofus may not be trying to fit in... maybe he's in the KFC witness protection program.












Poor Fluffy had been spending far too many hours around the stables...








I AM a puppy; I AM a puppy...








Jumbo was always different from his pals. For one thing, he loved to sing, but no matter how hard he tried, he hadn't quite mastered the ol' laying-an-egg trick.






For the most part, Tabby fit right in, but he still wasn't wild about eating out of garbage cans.





Fred was getting pretty good at the ol' stand-on-one-leg stuff, but no matter how many of those disgusting shrimp he ate, his feathers STILL weren't pink.










Gertrude had always admired the ducks' ability to swim, so she finally found a way to join them in the water... but she couldn't QUACK worth a darn.






For some reason, the giraffes never did accept poor hungry Leo as one of their own.





Ethel had 'em all fooled. Everybody thought she was a classical music gal, but as it turned out, furniture wasn't the only thing she liked to shred.











Alas, their successful plot to be accepted by the old lady was about to be foiled.









Skippy was a mere cat, so he was sure he'd fit right in...








Chipper was off to a tough start, but if he was lucky, maybe he could make friends before lunchtime.








Whether we fit in or not, I reckon the most important thing is how we see ourselves.


Cool.


I see myself as a perky twenty-something.









Well, crap... I'm still a saggy old broad. That stinks!


                                     
                                                                 









Then again, being an SOB... sassy old broad... ain't half bad.












And just because I AM old doesn't mean I have to ACT it! It's time for an ADVENTURE, y'all! "'Cause, ya know, I was Born to be Wild!)












Since I'm not  here, I won't be responding to your comments right away, but I'll get to them. Eventually. (Honest!)
           
                        Until next time, take care of yourselves and each other.