Thelma and Louise

Here they are, evidently escaping from school. Thelma is deliriously happy, as you can see, and Louise perhaps skeptical. I think what's happened is that Mr. Red Who is Purple tried to get them to make jungle animals out of tissue paper while taking turns, and they'd just had enough.

Thelma's mother and I will soon jump into the most fabulous restored Airstream that you've ever seen and join them in the desert. We won't be killing ourselves, by the way, just taking a break from the bullshit.

We sit here, stranded, 'tho we're all doing our best to deny it

At risk of same old, same old, all I've got this morning, Monday-style, is a desire to climb in a car with my friend Christy Shake of Calvin's Story and if not fly over the desert to oblivion, then over the sea to Bora Bora and never come back. There's nothing wrong in particular same old, same old, and visions of Bora Bora  never 'scape my mind. There's a song in there somewhere, but I think Bob Dylan already wrote it. But these visions ... they make it all seem so cruel.

I think I've included enough cultural references in three sentences; I have oodles of laundry to do and children in foster care to tend. Reader, what are you up to this Monday morning?