Tiny Dancer

On a recent crisp March afternoon when we were busy trying to be happy, Kyria and I decided that this was very sad:

You will blink pink tears
You think it’s sad, too. You know you do. Even though you’re thinking, “Oh, Jodi, you’re so gaye*. That’s not sad. It’s just a pink ballet slipper that a one-legged orphan lost. I’m sure she has another. Shoes come in pairs these days.” Tell me, in comments, why you think it’s sad.
Yes, that’s right. I want you to leave comments. You write to me and beseech, “Please oh please let me comment,” and now I’m letting you. So take advantage of the opportunity while it’s offered!
Kyria and I were so sad that we had no other way to cheer ourselves up than to eat noodle-based foods at Mee Noodle. Here is how I chose to forget that somewhere in Midtown East, a very sad toddler was bawling her big blue eyes out and learning that, despite what her nanny and mommy and nana and moomoo may have told her, life is not all sugar and spice and everything nice:

Girls just wanna have chow fun! LOL!
(Click to bury your sorrows)

P.S. Yes, I am aware that today is the Ides of March. I misplaced my toga and bloody knife, so I won’t be celebrating it this year. I will, however, make a concession to celebration by ordering a Caesar salad.
* Spelled this way to distinguish it from “gay”, which some people think is not a not-so-nice word to use in this manner. To those people I say, “Don’t be so gaye.” Special thanks to my very good friend Judy for developing this alternate spelling oh so many years ago.