You're never too young (or too old) to dress up a statue of a goose.

A funny thing happened on the way to the park today.  Batman, Mo-mo and I saw a statue of a goose...but it was naked.

"That's indecent.  If you're going to have a statue of a goose, you might as well put some clothes on it," remarked Batman.

It was like a light bulb went off in my head.  "OH MY GOD.  I NEED A STATUE OF A GOOSE, AND I NEED TO DRESS IT UP."

"I think you don't meet the minimum age requirements for owning a dress-up goose.  There's a rule somewhere that if you're going to buy costumes for a statue, you must be over fifty and also own a Pomeranian named Baby."

"YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!" (Yes, sometimes I talk in all caps.)  "I wouldn't put it in Easter dresses or bumblebee outfits.  That's just weird.  I'm thinking about creating tiny little outfits for a resin goose as an homage to some of my favorite fictional characters."

Batman made me a deal:  If I draw 10 sketches of the goose statue in different suitably awesome costumes, I could get one.  And make it outfits.

I'm thinking Harry Potter, James T. Kirk, Elvis*, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Wolverine, Darth Vader, Princess Leia, Batman**, and Captain Jack Sparrow. 

While I do not yet have ten sketches of attired geese, I can offer you this one:

Why yes.  This is a goose dressed up as Harry Potter.

Next step:  Convincing Batman that I need not one, but four geese statues.  I could stage elaborate tableaux, including one with Harry Potter Goose, Ron Weasley Goose, Hermione Granger Goose, and the ever-popular Voldemort Goose.  Plus, there could be the four Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle-Geese.

Maybe I need a new hobby. 



*while not fictional, he is awesome enough to warrant dressing up a small goose statue in his honor.
** The superhero, not my husband.  Although the idea of dressing up a goose statue as my husband does have its merits--mostly that it would probably embarrass him.

The Six Stages of Not Getting A Second Interview When You Thought You Would

Approximate time lapse-- one hour

STAGE ONE: SHOCK

 

WHAT!?!  I didn't get the second interview?  Why the hell not?  What did I do wrong?

STAGE 2: PANIC

I'm never going to get a job!!!  My family is going to end up living in a cardboard box.  I better start practicing tying a stick and bindle.  It's a good thing my daughter already knows the word "hobo" because she'll be hearing it a lot.

STAGE THREE: CRYING

*sob*

STAGE FOUR: ANGER

  

I have a freakin' 4.0 in grad school, volunteer and leadership experience out the wazoo, and worked two years in this exact field.  What more could they want, the ability to turn coal into diamonds with my fists?  Laying golden eggs? 

STAGE FIVE: RATIONALIZATION

I bet I was over qualified.  They probably wanted people with only a bachelor's degree.  That lady interviewing me was scared that I would take her job in three years.  

STAGE SIX: HUNGER

 

 You know what I haven't had in forever?  Poptarts.

Stage five and six look very similar to the untrained eye.  

Instead

I was going to write a "Meet the Animals: Part 4" for my cat Anoosh.


Instead, here is a cartoon I drew about her a couple of years ago.






It explains everything.