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Archive for the ‘Just Thinking’ Category

I have a confession to make. I? Made a mistake.

Yes, I know. I can hardly believe it myself. It’s a fact, tho. I have a habit of running the oppostie direction of public opinion: I can’t count the number of good movies that tanked because the General Public hated them, or the wasted hours watching some stupid event or going to lousy restaurants because “everybody loves it!” That’s the only explanation I have for the proliferation of Olive Gardens around the state. I love their breadsticks and salad, but when they stopped serving their humongo cheesecake and went to teeny little slices, they lost me. (more…)

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A 900 Number I Am Not

Many years ago when I was naive and (sorta) innocent, I got an obscene phone call. It wasn’t your ordinary heavy-breathing kind of thing, though. It was an apologetic(!) young guy who said his friends had told him that he could randomly call a phone number and probably get phone sex out of it. Well, yeah, THAT sounds reasonable, right? (more…)

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I watched the Muppet Christmas Movie tonight, which is basically a rewrite of “It’s A Wonderful Life.” I know I’m about to get hate mail here, but I have always hated that movie. Why? Cuz on Monday morning when George goes back to work? He’s still gonna have money missing from that bank that HE has to pay back, while the ol’ grouch gets away scott free. I have never had the courage to speak those words aloud, but Dave at Sheldon comics pushed me off the ledge last week.

Dave is my hero.

(more…)

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Some days are JUST like this.

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Others, like this:

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A Lot of days, this is me spiritually:

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Today I confessed to the diabolical plan Redbird and I put into action. OK, she just suggested it. I DID it. The person I told laughed and laughed, cuz just yesterday he told me, “You know, I totally see what you mean when you say she’s a control freak.” I was vindicated, and there was much rejoicing. Yayyy! I moved the AAT to a much more blatant spot today. We’ll see if it works better. The AAT makes me feel like this:

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MWAHAHAHAHA!!!! *BEEP*

This is the kind of friends I have here:

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It’s not all bad.

Then there are days like this:

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But in the end, we all hope this is how it all works out:

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And that? would be enough for me.

Happy Love Thursday, a couple of hours early.

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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!

WOOT!

Later…

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Today my mother would have been 73 years old, had she made it this far. When I was a kid, I used to wonder why she never seemed to be bothered by my cuts and scrapes and falls and such. It bothered me until I realized I’m a raging hypochondriac of sorts, so no wonder. Maybe I became that as a way to get her attention. I dunno. I’m screwed up on so many levels, there’s no way to really pinpoint a cause. (more…)

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I bought my plane ticket today! I am NY bound the end of this month. I am actually a little excited, if for no other reason than it is NOT IN GEORGIA. I know the truth about this trip: my friend is a bit of an exaggerator, and even tho he SAYS he’ll introduce me to the people whom he SAYS want to hear my music, that doesn’t mean it’s what it sounds like. Then again, maybe it is, and I am being pessimistic for nothing. Either way I’ll probably see a show on Saturday, then be back home Sunday afternoon. Those darned kittens are too small to be left alone for longer, or I’d stay an extra day.

Ivy had her babymaker taken out yesterday, and she’s home and sleepy. Poor widdle baby, wobbling all over the house, seeing if she missed anything important. I found one of the babies running through every room this morning, rubbing full-body up against everything he could. I guess there are so many smells he felt the need to cover some up with his own. Either that or he was really itchy. It was so cute..he’s only about 6″ long, so it’s not like it was an easy job to cover all that territory.

You know, the neighbor/owner still hasn’t shown the slightest interest in the mama or her babies. I think people like that should be shot. The death of Eight Belles this weekend was fodder for a regional radio show on Monday, the Rick and Bubba Show. I love those guys. Really, I do, but they seem to have forgotten that the heart of a nation can be judged by its treatment of those in slavery to it. That goes for the American worker, struggling to feed his family, and it goes for the innocent, both human and animal, who are dependent on adult humans for their survival. Make no mistake: we are all slaves here, if only to our own way of life.

When we make sport of death, exploit workers, kill fetuses for our own convenience, abuse the elderly, and neglect, exploit, and abuse animals, we are showing our true heart as a country. We complain about the murders in Darfur and the deaths at the hands of terrorists, but it never occurs to us as a nation that leaving an animal tied up or caged to starve to death because we can’t provide for them or don’t have “time” for them is just as evil, just as wicked. It makes me sick. It makes me weep at night to be so helpless, to not have the money to save them all and punish their abusers. It makes me want to cage people who denigrate PETA and the ASPCA, tie them to trees with no food or water for days on end in the summer sun, set them free to be hunted in the woods for sport. Maybe if a few rich entitled princes were locked in basements of foreclosed homes to starve to death, somebody would get the point.

*stepping off my soapbox*

Later.

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