It's Saturday in India McGreevy's world. Probably just before noon. She's been shooed outside, possibly as a way to help her get out of her malaise. Possibly just to get her out of her parents' hair for a little while. Probably both.
And, so far, mission accomplished on both fronts. India's barely been out of the house for a good solid half hour and already she's finding herself in some odd places:
And speaking of dark, dramatic themes, let's talk about the love that dare not speak its name. I'm talking about the kind of thing you keep to yourself. The kind of thing that both society and shame itself dictate be hidden away in the darkest of dark corners, both literal and metaphorical:
Cupcakes. Oh, I hear you say, that's nothing to be ashamed of. There's nothing wrong with a cupcake. And you're right. There's nothing wrong with ONE. Once in a while. But I'm talking about when you're on your third when you can't even remember eating the second one. I'm talking about when you peel the wrapper off and shove the whole thing down your gullet. That's when you even bother eating the bottom part. Sometimes you just bite the head off and throw the little cupcake trunk away.
Not everyone will know what I'm talking about here. But some of you know. Everyone's got their particular flavor of vice. For me, it's Funfetti. Have I ever ranted about Funfetti? Man, how I love Funfetti. You can have Funfetti cupcakes with Funfetti frosting. And when it's around, I no longer have my own best interests in mind. I have only one thing in mind, actually. And that thing...is Funfetti.
So that's where this rat idea came from. The idea that a rat would be embarrassed to be caught eating a cupcake in the dark is hilarious to me. Also, I live in a place where there are massive squirrels (which are just rats we accept). Once, a friend of mind saw one of these local monstrosities up in a tree. With a cupcake.
I'll leave you with that.