Saturday, November 28, 2009

Where do we go from here?

Listen. I am so fucking tired, my eyeballs look like hamburger meat. Yeah. Nasty.....

If I can survive a train wreck so can you. It's the crawling out from the wreckage and seeing that YOU may be the only survivor. Oh, and NEEDING coffee. There's got to be someplace you and I could go. The basement? No. It's smelly down there and you know how I FREAK out when I think something smells. I love my issues. The best part about those mother fuckers is that they're ALL MINE. So hands off. Get your own. So please. Don't. Embrace the tiny erratic flaws that make you.... YOU! I love 'em!

I realize it hasn't been that long, lovelies. I mean, I just need to be hangin' with my peeps. The Nason clan? Them folks.

I believe in you, so believe in me. Throw me a line. Make a comment. This is a welcoming place honey. A warm fire. You know the feeling you get when a Pink Floyd song comes on? The feeling I get is hanging out on the back porch on Branner Street, smokin' cigs, and drinkin' beer. Relaxed. You know all "Wish you were here" and shit? That's my love. FUCK!!! HOW AWESOME IS THAT SONG???????

Okay. Back to reality. Oh, or "Learning to Fly?"

Home again. Here it is. I looked over and found all my reservations about living. Being 30. CLAIMING responsibility. Emotion usually makes us all so weak. I think this is good though. When I feel weak, I cry. Or I get pissy. Then I take action. If writing it all out is action, then I action I take!!!!!

I love the man folk. I mean, I love ALL man folk. They get me all giggly and I find most of them attractive. Most of the time I like a man folk for a dorky thing only I would have the vision to hold on to. SO if you may have been one of these man folk I speak of, consider yourself WORTHY. You're welcome. This includes, possibly, maybe making out with you, um, well, anywhere at any given time in my life. Uh, if you have ever made me laugh and eat cheeseburgers like a rabid raccoon....... High five. Maybe you have had the pleasure of just looking at me. Okay. That last statement WAS a little assish.

Again. You're welcome.

I end up saying shit like, "I love me some of him!"

Uh, thank you.

That's right. I have manners. I TRY to mind them.

You know I really wanna party and all that bullshit. Just tie one one. Get slap happy nanners. Wake up with my shoes on my hands. All that jazzzzzzzzzz. That's right. Judge me.

Time out. I may need to rant for a moment. Y'all know I LOVE reading. I LOVE BLOGGING. (I also love children), BUT. ! !!!! Reading other's blogs, but how am I always finding blogs about CHILDREN? Huh? Forgive me, my life isn't about them. My life is about coffee, dogs, reading and writing. Oh, and also complaining. Sometimes, I just want to read about life other than children. I dont understand. Is it because I have no biological gaggle myself? Sometimes I'm just bored to tears. I cant help it. I WANT to help it. But I cant. All I want to do is read a great tutorial about pedicures. IS that SO wrong? Nah. I don't like other people touching my feet and shit. Just don't mix it in with discussing children. Please. I'm not like that character that smells children and it makes her sick..... What movie is that? It has witches in it. WITCHES OF EASTWICK! No, it's not that wonder of a movie, it's, it's, well, the one with Sarah Jessica Parker in it. I forget. So.... on that note..... Wanna talk about dogs?

So I told B we would grill today, ya know, cause it's purty outside and all.... he agreed. Once he was finished hanging Christmas lights for his folks. I need to start laundry, stare Champ in the eye for a while, and we will all walk the farm before dark. B told me he had seen a baby deer with the pair of deer I constantly see. I really want to find their nest. I REEEEEEally think it's in the mess of cedar trees. Gotta knack for that kind of bullshit. I told him we should take some pics today too..... I did find this neat hole in the field surrounded by neat patches of grass. I want to take some blankets up and hang out.

Oh. And wear my boots. Gotta wear my boots.


1 comment:

  1. We could find that we're all alone
    In the dream of the proud