I testify this is true, particularly if you are having a moving sale and getting ready to pawn off all your earthly possessions.
But once you make a fortune off your friends and neighbors it's pretty hard not to have a merry heart again, especially if, after they make you rich, they throw you a beach bash to say so-long, fare-thee-well.
Much mahalo my Hawaii friends and neighbors!
How do I lub thee?
I lub thee with all my stone cold heart (unless you didn't come to my party or contribute to my recent fortune, in which case I only lub thee with half of my stone cold heart).
And oh how I will miss thee, (and thy $$$) my Hawaii friends and neighbors.
I feel so much lighter now that half of my house is missing. And quite honestly, it is comforting, in an almost giddy way, that our earthly possessions are living on in the lives of the people we lub--like we're leaving little pieces of ourselves behind. The useful pieces.
It's almost like we're dead but our ashes have been scattered across the community. If ashes were useful. And if one day all of our neighbors were outside talking and suddenly someone looked up and yelled, "The sky is falling! The sky is falling!" And sure enough when they all looked up our earthly possessions were raining down upon them.
I finally get that circle of life song from The Lion King now. And that Reduce, Reuse, Recycle song that Jack Johnson sings. And that part in the Three Bears where they're like "someone is sleeping in MY bed."
It warms my heart to think that Swirl will now be taking pictures of herself in my mirror and Anjeny will now be watching her Korean soap operas with my entertainment center.
(Plus it felt kinda good to throw in a free origami book even though she doesn't read Japanese. You're welcome Anjeny, that my generosity is so multi-cultural and transcends language barriers.)
So after we scattered our ashes upon our neighbors and then collected our inheritance, we went to the beach for an LDS BBQ. (Not to be rude, but there was NO hard stuff to drink--just wimpy Hawaiian juices. HELLO! Does anyone in the neighborhood read my blog?)
But bless their hearts, they tried. And even though the road to helk is paved with good intentions . . .
JUST JOSHING Peeps, stop throwing tomatoes at me. I LUB my neighbors and I sincerely appreciate all their meager efforts to dull our achey breakey hearts while still keeping the word of wisdom.
Seriously, even though I didn't get any brownies, it was the best ba bye now beach bash ever! The only thing that would have made it more exciting would have been if everyone had gone around in a circle telling us who they were going to miss more, ME, ME, ME or my hub. And then whoever got the most votes would get a brand new red front loader washer/dryer set.
(And Martha's vote wouldn't count.)
Gots ta go. I promised my hub a back rub to make up for my sharp tongue. (A back rub doeth good like a medicine too, btw.)