Archive for the ‘Hair-pulling practice’ Category

Sometimes life just gets busy, and blogs go by the wayside. I realize almost nobody reads here anymore, on account of my sorriness at updating, but I ALSO realized I left a story unfinished. I wanna tie up loose ends, pun TOTALLY intended. (more…)


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I know it is normal practice for women to let men change the oil in their vehicles, I do, even if it means paying strangers money to do it. I HATE those guys, tho, cuz they always try to sell me stuff I don’t need, and I feel guilty for saying no. A while back I bought the filter and the oil to do it myself, and frankly, never did. The filter sat on my dining room table, mocking me, reminding me that I am more or less a lazy sot. It was a very LOUD filter, that one. On Monday, I decided to shut it up. (more…)

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I’ve been distracted lately by a project that I should have finished in September. Luckily it turned out well, and the person who asked for it was pleased. I wrote a brand new choral piece for a children’s choir in Warner Robins, and it will be performed for the first time in January, in front of a room full of music educators from my state. Fingers crossed, it will go well. The director said there’s somebody interested in helping me get it published if it does, so. Yay. (more…)

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“DO. NOT. SING.” Also, “OMG, somebody turn off his mic!!”

“If you play that guitar any harder, it WILL start screaming.”

“Boy, you think a lot of yourself, huh.”

“Hmm. Tell me, have you ever actually HEARD yourself play?” Also, “…and you STILL don’t know why they didn’t let you play in the other church?”

“Can’t… stay… awake… speaking voice… SOOOO… DULLLLL… zzzzzzzz”

“HONESTLY. If you want to pray for one specific thing, why open it up for EVERYBODY IN THE ROOM to pray the IDENTICAL PRAYER? There are only so many ways to say, ‘Bring us a pastor.'”

“AAAUGGGHHHHH!!! That’s my frikkin’ NEKKID LEG, cat!” Ok, I admit it. I SAID this one. Several times…

“Blah, blah, blah.”

“Oh, just shut up.”


Now, look.  No comments about joyful noises and all that, ok? If you have ANY KIND of musical discernment, you would have been thinking the same things. TRUST me.  After all, I am allowed to have an opinion. As for the rest of the TIDS, my patience runs out sometimes. There are those around me who love to hear themselves talk, and frankly, it’s tiresome. ‘Poke out your eardrums with a stick’ tiresome.

I wasn’t born to be social, much. Apparently.

I am a really mean person inside, with a low tolerance for stupidity. (That’s not news, I know.) Every now and then it bubbles up and spills over, and people get their panties in a wad, but for the most part, I try to keep my mouth shut. I think that’s one of the things that frustrates me most, the shutting of the mouth. It feels like I’m lying like a rug.

Every river needs an outlet of some sort, but I find that if I try to make a comment to someone I trust, they chastise me or look at me like I’ve lost my mind, when they are-by-golly thinking the same thing. I can’t be myself, because they have let me know through silence or wrist-slapping that I’m not ok. I hate that, too. I’d like to have somebody to sit down over burgers worth and just DISH, ya know?  Somebody who will laugh at the same things instead of making me feel like a heel for wanting to laugh in the first place, or try to get me to see another point of view. Nobody’s trying to see MY POV…

And I stay here why? I seriously do not know. I only know the things I can’t say out loud to anyone, not even here, the depth of the sense of failure, anguish, loneliness, and hopelessness that slathers my every waking breath. If anybody who claims to love me knew or even cared, they’d have me locked up for my own safety.

Other than that, everything’s great! It’s a wonderful day!



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If I think about things too long, I wind up needing to take an axe to a tree. I used to do that in a house I rented 20 years ago. There was a dead tree in the back yard which the homeowner didn’t want to take down, so when I got particularly angry about things, like, you know, overbearing bosses and prissy administrators, I would take my dad’s axe and get busy. I would yell and name each lick on that poor tree. It didn’t come down on my watch, but it sure took some abuse. (more…)

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I often wonder at what point I became an intolerable whiner. I have recognized my tendencies for a long time, and while I try to change, it seems to be ingrained behavior. I am easily irritated and completely impatient with stupidity, which means I’m irritated a LOT. Little things really get under my skin. It makes me an intolerable human, an unlovable, bitter, semi-old spinster.

Note to Redbird: The annoy-a-tron has arrived and will be pressed into service Tuesday afternoon. Over. (more…)

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