Fire and Gasoline

Ready?

Set?

Go.


Hot legs? Even hotter heart. I'm too hot too handle all the way around. Got a bucket of water? Nope, even more intense than the coffin company burning down back in the early 90's. Or, that grease fire that started in the kitchen? Burned the mansion all the way to the ground. Lady Marmalade wondered "How do bad things happen to good people?" Well, for one, you're runnin all over New Orleans feedin' defenseless men Magnolia Wine. (I stall, bc, I wonder, how I can get in on that action?) You, Lady, send them home to their "gray, flannel, lives", (your words, not mine) and they long for your sweet touch. So that's why. Your justification.


Project Mayhem? Is sweeping through? The first rule? Well, sailor, you already know the line.


I'm pretty sure, I don't owe an arm and a leg to you. You have your own!!! Hmm? This reality is making me work myself to the bone. Aggravated when my hair falls down. I need everything in place, otherwise, its pure shit.


Is Saturday night alright for fightin'? Nah. Wednesday seems perfectly ok with me. Hold on, let me pencil it in? What's that? A pencil? Oh, it's a stick, with lead inside it. Some of em have erasers on the ends. Hmm? Oh, yeah, you have a Blackberry. I have a strawberry!!! Oh, It's not the same? You are so right, I got this one from a slip and slide.... Still not the right thing? The carton of strawberries are sitting in the fridge....Still not it? Well, somebody's gotta make pie for her brother in law!!! Might as well be me. (Those are the only berries, I dig.) (I see no purpose for berries in my "lack" of electronics.)


Back to your Blackberrrrry, when did we all become so self serving, self righteous, and so full of THINGs? I get it. I want things. I even went shopping for myself. Couldn't buy the one THING I had been really just wanting. I fed on the guilt of the splurge. I fed on the dissapointment of not giving in. I had Ghost-limb, buyer's remorse.


Whoops. Even more to know. I am the selfish of the selfish, and I wear a crown too heavy for my frame. I find myself hoarding my alone time all of a sudden. Hiding in the woods, literally. Lady bird giving away my camp. Daddy looked at me and asked, what's wrong baby?


Like a wide-eyed doe, I looked at Daddy and said, nothing, right now. He said, ok, if you say so. Don't stay out here too late. You didn't bring enough fuel for the lantern. Busted. And confirmed. There's not a man out there who can ever preform the miracle of taking care of me.

Sound hoity toidy?

maybe.

(High five Josh Nason, I am a Daddy's girl, and didn't take any offense to you saying so when we were sitting in y'alls living room.)( You see the true respect I have for my Daddy.)

Its a little more, that's where I want to be, so that's where I am. Stitching holes in the knees of my jeans? Big, huge, patches. My emotions are not so raw this week.

Day? 54? Not really.
I am counting down from something that is nonexistent.
A day, that has never really happened.

My view? Is straight up the driveway. Sitting in my faux beach chair lovingly purchased from Pier 1, circa 1999. Still obnoxious. Still one of the most uncomfortable things I continue to claim to love. I actually turned on the air conditioner. Shocked, I know. Champ had broken out into a little heat rash, but felt better after his bath. Pete and I barked back and forth. Pete, is my miracle worker of stylist. Well, he assists in making my hair incredible. Listen, the secret to my beautiful hair? Is..... drum roll....not fighting against it. Not using a flat-iron, letting it air dry. Which, half of the haircut was discussed on how to look effortless, and we concluded with, (ding-ding), let it air dry. I think its mostly the climate as of late.

When I rode shot gun in the car, I didn't stare out the window, long to be far away. I was pleased with everything, I didn't desperately think about anything, over and over. I focused on the positive. I turned my phone off to sleep. I looked forward. I had, nice thoughts. Today, I didn't wish for another life. Or, think about the tragic moments. I didn't examine every blade of grass, I just saw the yard.


I spent time with Ladybird. (she rolled in the grass)
I did read. (my favorite thing)
My love affair with words. The meanings, their sounds, the emotion and passion that can be served up, with only words. Never ending.

My life is, endearing and romantic at this time. It may not seem that way to the naked eye.
You are untrained!!!! Your vision, will improve, continue with an RX of constant communication.

Things are changing. My Summer could be perceived as Fall.

Thank you for reading. Peeking through my clouds.


I don't know why, this situation, popped up today. I thought about a time when thomas and I were married, and I had a taste of his anger before. Now, dear, I would walk on hot coals, to avoid any discontent. (couldve saved my burned soles) This story is not, for you to feel bad, have pity, or be mad at so and so. IT is, to just tell it. I had come home from work and started supper, when the phone rang. I answered.





P: Hello?


T: What is your God damned problem?


P: What? What are you talking about?


T: Why didn't you call on your way home?


P: I did. I called your phone, and I called the store.....


T: You could have text messaged me. I didn't know where you were.


P: I started supper as soon as I got home, I haven't even changed clothes,


T: (Interrupting me) Paula, you need to get your shit together, I swear, just call me and tell me
what the fuck you're doing. Love you.



That, baby, is not exaggeration. And telling. The GD's, what the fuck, who the fuck, how the fuck's were like unwanted complaint's from your pain in the ass renter.

I know, you have heard me say, how thankful I am. And, its true. More and more. The facade of it all is that he wanted me to believe, he cared about me. In love. When the truth of it all, was he cared about his own skin, and controlled my every move.
(Planning other's predestination, is fool's gold)

Why the fuck am I bringing this up? Maybe I need to discuss it today, maybe, I just am having this transfixed moment of appreciation of how far I have traveled.

I would be anxious, I was anxious, almost every second of our marriage. After THE FIGHT. Married less than 2 months, the shit, hit. Hard. I was anxious, and nervous from that point on, but happy. Right?

That's horribly wrong. Every bit. Things that make me/you, nervous/anxious, in a, hand wrenching, heart pounding sense, is wrong. Its wrong.

I'm not the only one. You probably have/or will see a situation, that, in fact, you work through,because it is the right thing to do, you love someone/something, you would rather sacrifice that little thing called your own version of Jiminy Cricket. (Conscious) (Pinocchio)
Work on that part of you. The hard rocks, the jaunty cliffs, need to be addressed. (See Titanic)

The freedom to admit, it is wrong.(Its complicated to face)

Listen, I know the title of my blog, is, I love you, BUT....

I do love you. Without buts.