Optimism is a Lady - So Watch Your Back!

You may not be ready. In fact, I know you're not. That's cool, I'm taking mental inventory of everything around me. Honey, Optimism is back, and she just applied her red lipstick.

I'm just gonna roll with this, so however you take it, take it like a man.

This morning as I took out my coke can rollers, eyes swollen from pollen, and just needing a few more minutes in the sack..... I thought "Hey, Pretty Girl".... "What's your f***in' plan?"

Well, I'm gonna get off my ass, and pursue what I want. I'm gonna go beyond my list of "to-do's."

So, I fluttered outside, cut some iris growing in my backyard, they are a sweet shade of lilac. I love them, they make me think of my mamaw. Man, they make me smile. And not a bullshit smile either, I mean, a genuine smile.

Dogs, Haircuts, Pilate's. Wednesday.

My super secret ninja plan?

It's gonna be straight out of "The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly."

Mr. Eastwood is jumping out of me and right on your face. Cause I'm doing something about it.

Yeah, sugar lured me right back in, but apparently, it's time for a garage sale, and Mama's gonna make some bucks off denying that WANT. Cause that's all it is. A want.
A human, fleshy, WANT.

And, that just ain't me.

From this point, anything I deem "unhealthy'' is out the door. I have written several eviction notices for certain feelings, foods, and vices.

Did you notice? The eyes in that beast? Driven.

On the cusp of a full body, multiple orgasm.

Surely, you can relate to that feeling. Sheets wet, son. Wet.
I've been on the verge of said earth shattering orgasm, and today, Oh man, I'm having it.

With that said, I'm drinking as much water as I can hold to rehydrate my system.
After a release like that, your system needs more.

So get off, or get out.

I'm on top from now on.

How Does Your Garden Grow?

I sat there in my chucks and sundress. I thought about Justin Timberlake and the fact he's so cute. And that was the only thought I had about the man. He looked at me under the brim of his hat, and asked, do you wear contacts? No, Jesus gave me pretty eyes. He put his hand on my leg. I jerked like I had been set on fire. You know, we can say, say, say, say, but it's our reaction. Always.

Listen, how is it true a girl like me hasn't been fishin'? I will tell you why. I have been on good intentioned "fishin" trips. Layed in a boat, sat on a dock, line dropped. The man folk have disguised this as, er, snipe huntin' trip. Honest to goodness. One trip I had taken with a boy I ended up with out any tan lines. Another time, just a really good make out session. I think that's it. You wanna go on my boat? Yes, Mr. Hendrix. Please.

I'm drained today.

If you're such an open book, how come you're so hard to read?


I know this next line, will be admired, and appreciated for the truth it contains. Is it acceptable to put yourself into debt to further yourself? When do the risks outweigh the reality?


I need to sit on the back porch and do shots. That'll give me clarity. I shoot straight liquor, hold on, I'm adding some juice for you.


I would love to hide under the refrigerator with the dust bunnies.

Again, is what's good for the goose, good for the gander?

Go ahead, tell me your work schedule. Let me feel unintentional.

The director tried his best. Frazzled. Pointing, and shouting. I threw the bottle up against the wall, and threw a 5 star fit. He yanked the magnolia out of my hair, and grabbed my wrist. "You know what?" "If you ever show your ass like that again, I, I, just don't know what I'm gonna do!"

(Can Josh draw me a map to cut through Savannah to see you?)

(I can taste the mimosa's right now.)

My eyes were like daggers when I sat in the easy chair. I lifted my legs over the side.

He said, "Girl, I don't know what to do with you." I laughed. My response? "Son, you ain't gotta do nothin' with me." "Why do you buck like a horse when all I want is to hold you?"

I looked at him and said, "You can't cage a wild bird."

I started my bathwater. Sat on the edge of the tub. I said bible verses out loud, and told secrets to the ghosts in the room. Ghosts of lovers. Past and present. I quoted books I have memorized, and knew exactly the feeling Shakespeare tried to convey through Mecrutio.

You may have bought me satin sheets, but I wouldn't dare lay in them.

The dogs prefer them, cool to their skin.

Back to my lack of value. Or what I create. I didn't want to walk out of the house today. Champ told me I didn't have to go. We sat and had a discussion on economics, and he encouraged me to get out. I said, just one more cup of coffee? No, there's doughnuts to be made lady.

Point taken.

Maybe I will. Just take the plunge. Like those old Crystal Light commercials?

My circumstance. Mine. When I grow proud of something, I lose it. Examine it. Inventory how it made me feel. You? Seem to move right along. Lost your job? Oh well, let me find someone to sleep with so I don't have to struggle. Isn't that a sign of struggle? Holding on to whatever comes your way? How come my struggle is so obvious? Isn't the above a sign of self destruction? No, it looks healthy. Bc, society tells us so. The normal is the ugly. Word.

(Cue to Common rapping.)

Scared yet? You should be.

Daylight come and me wanna go home.

Do you believe in signs? Not the movie. M. Night, Mr. Gibson, please step out of my spotlight. Mr. Phoenix, you can stay right there. I like you. And your beard. And I love your rapping. You remind me so much of myself after too much moonshine. Come here, let me adjust your sweat band. There, all better.

I'm gonna call this lady Ms. D. She is fabulous. Not everyone is nice to her, bc, she's different. She takes patience to talk to. I love her. Before she left me, she said, can I tell you a story?

Of course you can. All ears.

Sweetheart, I had woke up with a thought this morning, and I can't stop thinking about it. (She's an older lady, and absolutely has her wits) I received a letter in the mail, (tell me more) it was from a man that my husband and I had been friends with for years. She started crying. (I grabbed the tissues) He had been divorced. He never remarried. She said, as she took off her sunglasses, the letter said how he had been in love with her over the years. I just hugged her neck. Paula, he's dead. He died before the letter got to me. The tears started pouring out. She said, he had loved me all this time. And he told me, and is now dead. What do I do? (She is a widow)I told her to look for closure. She might as well slapped my face.

Can you imagine having feelings for someone and not telling them?

No.

I pretty much felt busted. (sans Jessi Jeffrey solo)

I don't know which part grabbed me the most.

A. This man loved her, and kept it to himself.

B. He died before she got to respond.

So, I don't know if you got to read yesterday's post, but it seems like a genius follow up to what transpired today.

And as soon as I was driving back from Waffle House, that song was playing.

Fat and Sassy

Dearest of my dears,

Here's the deal pickle. I have always loved even numbers. The even numbers, have always seemed more attractive to me. And what am I now? An odd number. 1. Just one. I went out to lunch after church, you know, the normal, with mama and daddy. My sister and her family.

We have 7. Another odd number. Hang out with Landa and her crew? Again, 5. Even another odd number. So, maybe, I should start a hot love affair with odd numbers. They seem to pay more attention than the even ones.

I looked down the pew this morning. You guessed it. More odd numbers.

Which spawned, what about the forgotten? You know who. The ones you assume that are just pleased as punch. Because they are alone. Because, they have so many pressures. Real or imagined. Maybe they don't live alone. Maybe they, live in a full house, but somehow feel left behind.

Or, the misconception on being on your own, like, something must be wrong with them. You know, mentally. Or, if she would just lose that weight.

How 'bout liftin' people up for a change? That's a great idea.

What about calling someone who is just on your mind?

These lepers, that we all assume that are the ones with issues.... Do you know how many times I have heard, such phrases as, appreciate what you have. Healing takes time. You can do it.

Well, for one, Godblessed right I can do it. And have done it. And will continue to kick ass, but not take names, the ones who you have said ass kicked, are the ones you forget. To move forward.

You want me, to appreciate what I have? Fuck you. With that said, you are the type to bitch at whoever you live with bc they didn't do whatever you wanted them to do however you wanted them to do it. Fuck you sir.

You know the part in the bible about being a willing servant? That's me.
I get aggravated. Sure.
But, I can smile when I do things I don't want to do.
Do you really think I love it when Champ can't hold his bladder? No, I can't get mad at him. He has a tiny bladder. He has very special medical needs. Do you think I get mad that I can't just tell him to get down just because I'm laying on the couch? I'm too lazy to get up? Never. Cause, my boy could get hurt. He can't hear, and that's not his fault. Anyone else would have beat him half to death. I see him for what he is. Special. He takes such a measure of patience that Job couldn't measure. That's why, he's mine. I can handle major levels of intensity.

Healing takes time? It sure does brother. I'm not scared of it. Or the process. Sometimes it's the waiting.

Listen, all I'm getting at is, I am not the type to take for granted. Understand?

I am exceptional.

I embrace a kind of honesty, that shatters people. Why? Bc, there's nothing like in the world to be able to face how you feel. And know why. There's nothing like feeling relief.

Like drinking the biggest alka-seltzer out there.

Here's my question, my sweet, why not reach out?

1. The rejection. Cool. I know that bitch. Push ya down the steps in your heels, she will.

2. Embarrassment. You know what, Pal? It's fleeting. The last embarrassing thing I did?
I don't remember. It was that earth shattering. ( It usually turns into an endearing memory.)

3. Pride. Didn't think I would mention it? Mine still has guns blazing. It does it's best to act like
A1 steak sauce, it just tells you it's that important. ( A good steak doesn't need steak sauce.)

4. The pain? Ok, this is where I slip you the dry wiener. (Thank you Steve. More on that later.)
You can recover. You can battle that Ogre.

It's the not knowing. For most. Like Shelane said last night, your boobs look good. She did say that, but she also said, Paula, if I could just know, I would feel better. My heart sank lower than low. And I could empathize with her.

All I could think was, how I wanted to just get in bed with you and fall asleep. Not with Shelane. The one I wish that were reading this.

Pastor Bob rang my chimes as if I were Gomer Pyle and the Sargent had put a metal bucket on my head beating it with a huge spoon.

He said, there's nothing wrong with being different.

What? I lifted my head off of Rachel's shoulder. ( my sister)

Being different is something to strive for.

Wow.

Last night, I woke up with a charlie horse. It was so painful, I mean, I tried to wake up. It hurt, really bad. So badly, I remember talking out loud. I was still asleep, I was in that state of sleep that you feel as if your eyes are covered in super glue. It made me wonder, I may be sleeping hard, but, my body is in full force. Active. Can you get a charlie horse from sleeping?

Rachel, also brought up a woman at church that has encouraged me my entire life.

She said, Paula, she suffers from anxiety and depression. That's why she hasn't been here to church for the past few months. Or gone to work. My lip quivered. I busted out in tears. My heart went into the depths of hell when she said that. I understand. Relate. Empathize. Not to discount, you know the possible forgotten? I could hear my heart beating in my ears. That's why I had to lay my head on Rachel' s shoulder.

Being dragged behind a team of horse's would have made me feel better.

Tenderhearted. To the hilt.

The tears layed in my eyelids. And just like little suicide bombers, they crashed down.

I hate anxiety. I hold mine in. That's when I pay.

I beg myself to stop it.

I went to the alter this morning. I said one little prayer.

Please continue to lift me up. And show me how to lift others up as well.

That's my burden. For you.

Is this is like a goose feather filled pillow? Comfy, but the feathers poke you?

Captain Feathersword

People either love you, or hate your guts, there's no middle ground with you. Ha. I have that stupid little grin on my face that I have had since a girl. My, little grin, that is....Cheshire Cat/Jack Nicholson in The Shining. My sign? Libra. True Libra.

Not that I'm this raging horoscope planning person. I will so read that shit though.
Then, read my devotional for the day. Or 2. And send them to you.

You know alot about me, don't you? The Dorothy side. The Wicked Witch of the West side.


It's ok. I just died in the middle of the street. The street sweeper will come through soon. What? They get paid to do it. Might as well let the man do his job.


Usually, if you talk like you know what people are asking questions about, they seem to believe you.


Who doesn't love Eric Stoltz?


This is for the ones who love to talk shit. To make themselves feel just a little bit better?
You may even read this and wonder... is this about me? It's so not. I would have told you.
Stop with the paranoia. I take time to process things. That's me. And then, I think about it.
After that, I let it crawl under my skin. During that time, I allow my emotions to run wild like a wild jungle cat. Not surprised huh? If you know me, you know this about me.


It may be one of your favorites.


This part of me, may exhaust you to the point of no return. Frazzled.


This part of me, may fascinate you so much, there's a journal under the corner of the bed about it. Yeah, it's in the top right corner. I know your superstitions.


This part of me, may be the reason we can't be friends. Or communicate. Or encourage each other.


This part of me, may stop you dead in your tracks, like a beautiful woman you see out in the sunlight.


However I effect you. Good or bad.


I do. I love every part of you. I really dig the imperfect part of you. It gives me great comfort.

Like that time I realized, hey, that person is human, and I helped you gingerly off the pedestal I had put you on. Changed me from the Beast, into the Beauty. ( Favorite story )


Remember when we joke about your jealousy? Of my life? Then, you tell me, sorry, I didn't mean that. It's cool. It's how you feel. You can't sneak out of this glass house. I think about,
just how, I've been there. And covet you, in return.


Hell, I tell my deaf dog stories. He listens. It's uncanny. Our connection. But you can't stay locked up in the house, telling the deaf dog stories all the time. How was he made so perfectly?


I had written on my other blog. The one you don't read. I haven't ever told you about it.
That's why.


It states,
That all you need is love,
The grass isn't always greener on the other side,
Give up control,
Jesus loves me.

That's true. Every line. I don't know much baby, but that's gold.

I examined why you say things they way you do. You can't be like me. You couldn't even emulate it if you tried. He said, I like art. Really? Cause I love it. (snippy)

Listen, I'm trying hard to work out the kinks. Out of sheer brilliance. Method to the madness. My light shined just a little bit brighter today.

You may look over at your date, and think, I could sleep with her, but that's all.

I run past the rabbit checking his watch. He thinks that he's late? I'm month's behind.

Catching up with Alice.

I have absolutely no salt to be a snob. Cause I'm plain. No, I like that. I dig simple. If you look close enough, I still have paint in my hair. I have a feeling, that's why you like me so much.

Keep Your Eye On The Cups

This is a true event. This is a true phone call between Angie and I. She said, Steve is going to handle firing the realtor's. I begin to tell her all about how to do this, and if Steve needs help, I would be honored to do so.

First, grab one of those DVDs of Monsterquest from you know, The History Channel, flip it on, have a very brief discussion on which monster they may, or may not be looking for. ( Angie, I do not believe in RODS.)

Second, as you get them almost interested in that crap, pull out a pea. Yes, a pea. Grab the three cups from the floor. Cup 1, cup 2, cup 3. (Hold other 2 peas in pocket)

Third, just start talking. about anything. Discuss why as a little girl the color grey made you throw up. Ramble on about why the string thingy's on the end of the rug HAVE to be in order. Ask them both if they have ever thought about life after death. Now that's a good one.

During the talking, ramblings of Monsterquest in the background, move said cups, round and round, throwing in the other peas, under each separate cup. Follow? Good.

This is very important. Look them in the eye. It will freak them out, probably give them a good flashback of the first time they ever had sex with that dirty little prostitute, or with his best friend's mother's and her gin breath.

Whatever. Continue with the cups, rearranging, striking matches, have The Dark Side of The Moon playing too. ( People get freaked out around a scarecrow )

Finally, just let the cat out of the bag, we like you, but we don't like how you eat all our oreos.
The DVD is over anyway, and I ate all the peas, so, it's time to go, as you hand them their complimentary cup of fruit punch, as they walk out the door, Whitney Houston will be laying on the hood of the car, singing I Will Always Love You......


I told you. This is a true story. Any questions?
Good, I'm exhausted anyway, and I can't come out from underneath the bed for at least, 20 hours. Whitney is looking for me. Crazy bitch.

Love ya.

Mean it.

My Knowledge of The Beastie Boys

Is infallible. Adam Horovitz is my favorite.

That's a lie. I love them all equally. (And no matter what Mike D says, I give them all equal amounts of marshmallows in their hot chocolate.)

Here's something from him that shakes me down.

It's about the song, Live Wire.

I wrote this song about two people. One was this kid I only met a
couple of times, but he just seemed so cool, the other was for my
best friend Dave Scilken and other friends past present and future.
It's hard to know what to do when you love someone who's drug
problem is out of control....



I know where you got to be going but you don't know why
I see things I ought not to know but I can't help life
You never knew my heart for you was monster size
You're a live wire

Let me know if you want to check out for the all time high
My man told me long hellos and short good byes
But you are something else I love you please don't lie
You're a live wire.

Adam Horovitz



Now, I don't know a soul who suffers from a drug problem. I know people who are "suffering" in their own right though. Ones I love, ones who slip through my fingers, ones who live so far away. Even the ones, I don't like so much.


So are you ready to discuss something kind of uncomfortable? I am. I hate confrontation. Let's start with that little gem. But, you know, there are times, it's necessary. Unavoidable.

In order to move forward. Stuck in a moment? Ever been there? It sucks, and not just a U2 song. Yeah, someone else had a stuck in a moment song, but that's the only one I can think of.

Have you ever just HAD to do something? Your guts won't let you rest until you come clean about it. It's not anything bad. I'm sure your Pastor or therapist would wholeheartedly agree with that statement. It's ok, I can wait here, til you check. Er, it actually tells you so in that book on your shelf.



Maybe I'm it. What is that? Compulsion? Conviction? Melted together. Then, it's easier to let it go. Because you know the answer then. You have the clarity to know HOW to feel. Ha!

Bull by the horns. (Cue now to Bossa Nova 60's music)



Next question. When does it feel right?
Don't play golden retriever with me. You know what. The action.
Of doing so.
What you need to do to move on?
Right. Right. I gotta just decide. Or see more crows. Or push it a little deeper.



My opinions shouldn't be rejected because no one likes me. BC, I'm pretty, or smart, or so fucking right on, it even scares YOU!(The fearless)(Confident)



I suffer? To make you feel better?



The above, had been my penance.



My ideal? A man who can play a little air piano to The Who. That's who.
Who's coming to dinner. Who's on first.
Those are statements. Not, questions.



Exactly, who do you invest in? The ones who like you? The ones who you can't possibly force yourself to listen to? No, I'm not a narcissist. I have. Substance. I'm a good girl. I'm such an open book. Easy to read. My emotions pour out of my face. Which, I've learned to accept.



I have short legs. I have thicker legs for a thin girl. I guess boys like that. Right?



I felt bad. I did. We sat at Market Square, and Jenn had made a statement about a song. So and so sings this song. Not that, I know everything about music, but I corrected her before I realized what was coming out of my mouth. I sat back in my chair, kind of ashamed of myself.
That's my reality. I find myself, all know it all-y.
It's just like Jeopardy. I don't always say the right answer, but I always answer.
I'm freaky deaky at Jeopardy. You didn't know that did you? Or Wheel of Fortune.
You can thank my Mamaw.



My whole Jenn story? Is that I usually just know things.



So when does it feel right? It's very close. Get ready.

Coincidence? No, no, no. Not real. Choices. God's hand. The end.

Lead With Your Mouth

Er, today has been eventful. First of all, it's windy. I love windy weather. So Winnie The Pooh. The boys and I slept until 6ish, poured their food into their bowls, and they devoured quickly.... scampering back to bed, I didn't feel as agitated as I normally do on a day off to be up. My boys are, creatures of habit. They know when they eat. I pulled Champ up to my chin, threw my arm around my boy, and we went back to sleep. Around 8:30, we started to wake up. I received a text from Angie that was absolute the light of my life. Flipping on the coffee maker, I get ready to take the crew out. I see a car. Not one car. Two cars. In my neck of the woods. By the way, I am wearing less than flattering attire to be seen in. Tiny cropped leggings, old galoshes, wife beater. Toboggan. I quickly shut the door. I wrangle the boys in their crates. I put on a bra, jeans, and tshirt.....scramble outside. One car, gone. Second car, vanished. I call Daddy of course, to put out a APB for the Piedmont area. It's Ernie. Huntin'. Awesome. The other person? A census dumaflotchie.



Well, two people live here. My girlfriend, Miranda, is still working at the slaughterhouse. Well, it's not a legal slaughterhouse, and Randy, that's what we call her for short, should be here soon....



Kidding.



Later in my morning, coffee incident. On the couch, under the couch. Madness. Dogs were beat. Ok, ok, dogs were kenneled.



Then, the Jehovah's Witness came to call. Serious.
I was kind to the lady, thanked her, and took her literature.


It's great to read everything, that way you have some kind of knowledge on whatever.



On to the store. Driving down the driveway. Crow. Flew up to the branch.
I had a shiver down my back.



Windy? Remember?



I sat in the car, finished listening to Dave Matthews that I barely caught, I smiled.



Opened my car door, flew right into the truck beside me. My heart sank. I was able to talk to the people. The man rubbed the red paint off his gold truck. He said, don't worry. I was relieved!!!



Can it get any better than this?



Funny, I am in a great mood. Relatively.



I got to thinking today. About my family. My girlfriends. Every ones burdens. It just haunts me. You know those commercials with the everyday people with capes on? Is that true?



I'm about to head downtown. I want to catch a movie. Nothing special, just want to be alone. I think. Barley's has 2 dollar pints.



So, I wonder, how much different is your reality from mine? Not a lick. All of us are bogged down. Did you know the Dandridge library is closed on Tuesday? Of course it is.



Too windy to go walking. Sensitive ears.



Stop. Hammertime.



Pete Higgs, once again, gave me an unbelievable haircut. The man helps me look bangin'.
You could send him a thank you card, and no, I don't think that would be awkward.



Scott Miller plays this Saturday, and it makes me lose my mind. He's my favorite.


Ok, I didn't go downtown. I went to the store, bought some beer. Those little 8oz. Pony beers? Miller Hi-Life? Perfect. Grabbed some nachos, and relaxed.
It wasn't dark just yet, so I put on my boots, stuffed my jeans in the sides, grabbed my camera, off to the woods. Ladybird was R-O-C-K-I-N!!!! She was captivated by my willingness to follow her. It was dusk-y. The sunset was amazing. The colors were purple, orange, and yellow.

I could see the zinc mines through the tree line. We crawled under fence rows, to get a better view of the sunset. Bugbites. Sat on rocks, I took pictures. I thought about nothing. It was nice.

The sun sank low, right over the horizon.

What about downtown? Well, there wasn't a movie playing I wanted to see. Texas Chainsaw Massacre played over the weekend. The original. That one scares me. I ended up having a better night to myself. At home. In the woods. The cats and I sat on a rock.

You didn't know I had cats? Well, they are feral cats. Feral barn cats. Until feeding time. Ok,ok, they're not really feral. They do hide out mostly. Low profile.

I like my dogs better than the cats..... I love the cats, don't get me wrong... but the kitties would eat me if I layed dead for a few days. Dogs? Will lay down and die for you. And mourn for you.

Tonight, between the eating of the nachos, and drinking of the beer, I had a thought. My friend had said, why do bad things happen to good people? (I smell good, btw.) She said, really good people, like you, (flattered) go through battles. I don't know why. I don't know why she thinks I'm such a good person. I mean, I try to be humble. I prefer it.

The song I sang in the woods? Shush girl, shush your lips. Do the Helen Keller, and talk with your hips. I said, shush girl, shush your lips, do the Helen Keller, and talk with your hips.