Friday, September 25, 2009

It's Alright! Really!

Time keeps marching on. As do I. Experience. Is still on its way too, but I'm trying not to be so judgemental about said thing. Its wet here. It is humid. When I walk in the grass, (cause its too high), it makes my attitude a little testy. Who can blame me, right? I'm still on the corner waiting for you to pick me up. Oh? You thought I was in the porch swing. Well, we should mend our fences with this miscommunication. (or, ill communication) (Only when speaking in Beastie Boys language though.) I suppose that would be a grand vision. Little ol' me all dressed up in my whitest white sparkling WB. Chucks dangling. Special. Almost ground breaking.







I'm asking nicely to everyone to put away their daggers and try like hell not to stab me the next few weeks. Like it or not, ROCK IT or not, October is a traumatic time for me. I hope it doesn't always feel this way. But it might. I can understand when I have heard the old folks talk about the day JFK was shot. Do you remember where you were? Apparently, I am addicted to emotions, feelings. I love the whole scheme of it all. Its grand comfort. Even when I clench my teeth and smile.







Turns out, here I am with "Whats next." Any suggestions? I could be a championship bull rider. I could opt out and live off the grid. I could, finish a thought. Maybe, I will just begin. You know, wing it. Whole heartedly, arms wide open, eyes, wide shut.







Zero dreams this week, and I'm glad. They generally exhaust me. I look too deeply at everything. I examine every morsel with a microscope. And sometimes that isn't fair. To me. I push possibilities out the door before they take off the hat and coat. Generally speaking that is.







Bryan told me he needed help with the farm. Being sick has pushed us farther back. Its disappointing. Its difficult. To be sick. First and foremost, I have been so terribly sick I have been unable to anything. (Did it stop me from doing inside chores? Never!) I have not been able to move trees, load trucks, burn anything down. Its bullshit. It compels me to anger, and we all know how quick to anger I am. (%$&#*!@) Hoping to get back on track and somehow wrangle in some help. I believe I have a plan, and like all things remotely screwy, its working together in my little head.







1. Finish farm, work way down to road.
2. Hang new door.
3. Finish table.
4. Finish anything.







P.S. We all have the power to be exceptional.





1 Corinthians 12:21
The eye cannot say to the hand, "I don't need you!"
And the head cannot say to the feet,
"I don't need you!"







If you see where I am going with this, Congratulations. Because I do need you. I'm not willing to cut off my feet or hands in a futile effort to be lame. I continually need our friendships to maintain some kind of stable footing. I do. If I have to labor, then I just have to. The fruit has and will continue to be rewarding. I will see it flourish. I am that strong. Just not Army strong.







I am still praying. Going to church Sunday. ( I pronounce it, SUN-DEE ) I cant wait. If I cry, I cry. If I don't, then... well, if I don't, something might be wrong with me. There it is. I have drawn conclusions and I am sticking with them. (This is where you sign your name on the dotted line.)







I might be having a Jimmy Buffet moment. (Hell, it could be my fault.) Taking responsibility isn't easy. And I hate it. I'm not very good with realizing I may have screwed up. I am though, working things out. I am moving on. I am, cracking open the champagne on the boat. Its on. Its so flippin shove off time. So either move out of the way or join the maiden voyage. It may be a real heart breaker. It might end our dance. It may make you take the lead. Who knows? But its here.







Whitney called. She asked "How will I know if he really loves me?" I told her I would call her back on that matter..... you know, @ a decent hour, and not when shes in the shower....







I still think, in this reality, Mr. Pattison hair, Tyler Durden disposition man is somewhere in the mountains, finishing his great masterpiece of a novel. He probably talks about me the same way I talk about him. Fondly. Right? Its too close to tell. Meantime, I maintain my loyalty to the man. Scouts honor.







In String Theory, we are planning our vacation.......








Do you really think I believe you have forgotten about me? No. Even though I agreed that the shoes don't fit, you still questioned the size. How shallow, Hal. How shallow. There's always margin for error, and you should have already manned up. Am I disappointed? Hardly. Since your running history isn't spotless. But remember, we can always turn around. We can always head in a new direction. I'm staring at you at this point in the game. And maybe a touch resentful. I do feel better to reveal that part of my nature. You know, the rat on the boat that eats everything, all greedy like. (No one likes that part of you, PLN)

So I'm still all crazy bones about what I am eating. Even though, I have had pizza the past two days, and I may vomit from said ingestion. I will recover though.

My life continues to be amazing by the way, or BTW, depends on your experience..... or Paula experience, whatever.... but!!! Jeff Lewis has a blog. On his website. And, on BravoTV. I am losing my mind. Angie hasn't helped, being the ring leader of said facilitation. Oh yes she is!That's who pointed out these 2 genius things I adore. Blogging and Jeff Lewis!!!???? Are you kidding me? Consider me to be a complete woman!!!! I can waste away into oblivion now. Its totally like giving Scooby, a Scooby snack. Ya know he gets all freaked out, and cant wait. Mouth watering. If loving Jeff Lewis is wrong, I don't wanna be right.

I still want to blow $400.00 each on beautiful dresses on that etsy shop link Sue had sent. I do. Most of them are exclusive, and custom, and vintage. It makes me wanna blow my head off, recover all parts, re glue them together, and do it all over again. I would fit in most of these dresses. Except for the chesty sized dresses. Just sayin'. I would have to stuff. With knee socks.

Do you think that's enough? At least for now, right?

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