Thursday, August 13, 2009


First, and foremost, I'm starting out with I don't care!! I feel rotten from the inside out. When I eat shit, I feel like shit. I have gained a pound, and it makes me mad. It makes me feel like hell. I realize, I have some form of that disease that when you look in the mirror, you see all the flaws?
Well, it's not that drastic. But it does make me feel cruddy.

I know. I'm lovely.

Older women, make beautiful lovers.....

Listen cracker, I got a bee in my bonnet, and apparently, it continues to sting me. I have a gorgeous idea for eggplant. My culinary skills? yes, they are lacking. Again. I don't care.

Have you? Have you become a fan of Oomph Image and Design? You should.

Susan Nason allows me to be her star and coaches me to do the flattering poses, even when they hurt like hell. You have no clue! Her work, is amazing. Inspiring. Her eye? Is flawless.
Obsessive? For perfection. She, is more than she knows.

Listen Angels, I am, come hell or high water.... spraying a hornet's nest tonight, and pulling that fucking table off the barn. I'm going to. (pray for me....)

It needs to be outside of my house. In the side yard. I think.

I am planning a get together. This is a warning. I am taking all of my vacation time.... in October.
The week of the 11th. Birthday week, and not because I am turning 30. Stay tuned. There will be spiked lemonade, as well as "unleaded" lemonade..... I expect, I hope, this is fair warning to you all.... since the lot of you live out of state. Bring your children. It should be cool enough for Champ to live it up outside and not turn a shade of bright red......

Do you remember the day you were married? I remember some frightening moments. Like looking down my nose, and seeing my veil. It made my heart stop beating.

I unfortunately remember everything good.

Crazy huh?

I'm sitting on the curb today. Waiting for the bus. Or, I'm all alone in the subway station, patiently waiting for my train. I am the worldy traveler, on a new path.
Map, slung open.... red marker, plotting my way. Except, I don't know where I am going.

Or going to land.

I have made a decision. I am going to live the life I imagine. Not the one, I am in presently. I have this drive of finding what I am looking for. Not U2. More, Diane Birch.
You know, I'm the girl in the silver SHORT dress. In the FMN heels. CFMN heels.

Except, I'm up in a tree, waiting on the fireman due to the flood that swept me up so high. You don't get it. I hate the view. I hate it. I'm way up in the trees with the birds. It's frightening.

Again. Nothing alike. God blessed snowflakes.

Maybe, Terry, he's a writer.... and has terrible writer's block. And the very vision of me will cause him to write a heart beating, thriving rose bush in the middle of winter opus......

You never know.

Maybe, I am playing that sick game, holding Fate's hands, and we are spinning as fast as we can..... eyes closed..... skirt full..... frilly socks, mary janes' thumping together.....

Then again, who cares?

I realize, I touched on the fact I am turning 30. Someone insinuated this week, I will have some kind of spiraling meltdown. I doubt it. I, am a lady. Leaving the girl who wants you to drink tequila out of her belly button and lie to her. Hello, Classic Woman. I lift up everything in delicate, gloved hands. I dare you to touch her!

For fear of sounding pathetic, or off the beaten path to doubt, fear, and sadness. Whoops! This is reality, dear heart. I swear, you know, that glimmer of hope... she shines. It's just that, I cant wait. That's not so bad, is it?

I cant wait. But, I can, in the same pocket. I love alternate realities, and a scope I don't really have a clue about. I love the fact, that somewhere on the West Coast, there is a girl, just like me, dreaming. I LOVE, that she has the same dreams and fears. I LUV that she may look a leeetle like me......

Ah. We run tonight. Like wildcats. We run.

I told Jme yesterday afternoon, that men are like baby cougars. Cute as pie. Then, before you know it, they're tryin' to maul your face off, and fortunately for you, pitiful manfolk, we still find you precious. BULLSHIT!

My blog, has become my Mecca. I love it. It's my safe place. It's all about me, it's all about my obsession with pillows, my dogs, myself. Everything that is perfect, or not so perfect about me and my life. I hope it creates insight. This blog, helps me with my identity as a person.


Yep. It helps to air out the Johnny Cash side of me mixed in with the girl who frantically plays dress up. I am a farmer. A lover. A nymph. I get hurt easily, due to the passion that burns to the outer edges of me..... I am shy, and then again, the center of the room.Faking it. Trying harder. Wanting attention. Are you gonna go my way? Look on the bright side. It's not fair. Please don't cheapen your role. Look me in the eye. If you want to, you should. Ask.If you still thinkofme, and not who you think it is. Far side of the moon. Crouching Tiger, Hidden Ladybird. Forgotten. Missed. Held. Fought. Won. It's all a game, just think of the other players. Shot in the dark. Open wide windows. Sucker. Photos of you, not me. You belong to someone else. That's a great thing. I am supposed to be your friend, that is my reason right now. Not word, for word, but I have thought about it since you said it. Ferocious. I just want more.

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