I reposted my “Beautiful People” blog in plans of announcing once again that I am a hypocrite.  I have been planing for some time to get braces to close this annoying gap in my front teeth. Several people have told me they like it… it adds character (*coughBullShitcough*).  It’s not too terribly bad, but it has always made me self concious.  Check me out in all of my goofiness:

SO… I had a consultation with my dentist on Tuesday.  My impressions had made it back, and we reviewed my options and spoke of how long I would be wearing the braces, etc.  I was sent on my way… and to make an appointment with the lady up front… I told her I would call her.

On the way out to my truck, I started thinking about it…. and that “Beautiful People” post.  Do I really want to do this?  The two people who love me the most in the whole world, and actually gave me this gap, will love me regardless.  It really is me… I can’t even imagine myself without it.  Would I be a different person if it were gone?  An asshole overnight? I don’t know… but it’s not me.  I am going to keep it.  You will either love me or you won’t, but the gap is staying.

I am still a goof, but I am going to be happier with myself for keeping the gap.

~2

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Sometimes I have a hard time getting inspired.  If you’ve noticed, I haven’t written for the last two draws. Normally I find my inspiration in my tub, but as of late we aren’t getting along so well.

I think about this alot.  When I was in highschool, I traveled to New Orleans with my school band to play in the Sugar Bowl.  While I was there I met a palm reader in the French Quarter.  He told me a lot about myself.  Some things I already knew like I can keep a secret.  Don’t tell my husband that.. he thinks that is impossible.  I just had to clarify to him… he must first tell me it IS a secret… if he doesn’t want me to talk about it. Otherwise it’s fair game for conversation. 

The palm reader also told me that my hand said I had something to do with water… he didn’t know what but it was very strong.  I was sure that this was right because at the time I wanted to be a Marine Biologist… really who doesn’t at one point in time. So I was sure that is what it meant… apparently it just means I take a lot of baths.

ANYway…we’re not getting along so well. I think I am still bitter about the tub cleaning fiasco… well the last two times I have cleaned the tub I have ruined my shirt. I don’t really think about it… I had on gloves, but I continue to use that soft scrub with bleach… dammit if I don’t get it on my shirt everytime I use it…bleah.

SO… I have remedied this problem… I now clean my tub top-less.  But I am messy, so I still get that stuff on my skin.  Not to mention I have super sensitive skin too… so I break out in this rash.  You would think I fuk’n scrubbed the tub with my boobs or something…. ANYway, I am bitter.. and itchy.

Somehow I managed to write my part of the story on the Blue Doodle… please go check it out - Lost in the Jungle Again.  It has been so much fun, and I am honored to be writing with Dale.  I also have a piece about the 11 secrets we keep from our significant others on my regular page… had some help from Dale with that one too.

www.thebluedoodle.com

I had so much fun with my Novak interview I have another one coming up with my friend Rob… who’s totally metal and incredibly awesome.  You can still read the Novak interview if you missed it in the feature archives on The Blue Doodle.

I am going to try to do better… I think I am going to start cleaning my tub in a scuba suit or something.

~2

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In the small town I live in, I don’t live in the best of neighborhoods.  Don’t get me wrong it’s not terrible, but it has it faults, just like most do. 

My neighborhood is overrun with kids.  Mine being one of the hooligans that rides his bikes up and down the street not really paying much attention to cars. It’s a great place for kids because there are so many.

I don’t worry about Gabe playing outside, and I don’t worry about leaving my door unlocked during the day, but after this last week… I am a little bit concerned about some of my neighbors.

An old couple used to live across the street from me.  The husband died a year or so ago, but the woman that lived there after his passing was so sweet.  She used to work with my mother when I was in school, so I have known her practically forever.  A few months ago she too passed away.  Her family placed a “for sale” sign on her house and come and go occasionally to check on things.

Earlier this week there were several people over there with a trailer. We figured we were getting new neighbors, so my Dear Husband (DH) went out side to see if we needed to move our car that was parked in the street.  When he eventually came back in, he informed me that the neighbors to the east of that house had been stealing stuff from my deceased friend.

I was immediately pissed off.. .he told me that they have been coming in and out of the house taking things.  They even stole the back door off the house and put it on their own. WTF? They had been over there sooo many times they had worn a path in the yard between the houses.

My neighbor’s family were loading up everything in the house to protect what was left of their mother’s belongings.  They said that they had contacted the police, but were unable to help them…

I can’t believe that someone would steal from a dead person… I just can’t get over that… really pisses me off.

SO, now DH is worried.  We are getting ready to move, and sell our house.  We thought we would wait to put it on the market until we left, but now we are worried that our neighbors might come in and screw stuff up.  I mean, there won’t be much to steal (maybe a stove), but I really don’t want them to take my doors or windows or anything.

I know this isn’t my typical blog, but it’s been on my mind.  What would you do?

~2

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I blogged this out a long time ago… when I had a whole two subscribers (Thanks, Mom!).  I thought I would throw it out here again, because it is one of my favorites… you’ll probably hate it.  It’s old too… I’ve grown up a little since… very little.

Chronicles of a Firefly

Drawn toward the light

Anticipation burns my eyes,

Juices flow heavily in my mouth. 

Visions dancing fiercely in my head,

Dizziness overcomes me. 

I collapse onto the while tile below. 

Nothing now; no light, no breeze, no noise.

Soft, sensual fragrances send me into a trance.

I can almost taste their essence, so sweet, yet

Turning sour on my tongue almost iron-like.

The air is filled with an overwhelming smell,

Rotting flesh and decomposing animals.

It’s so stuffy… no air.

I gasp and gasp, reaching helplessly for another breath,

Only to find my lungs filled with a strange smoke. 

A burning like acid overpowers me. 

My delicate membranes throb, throb with each beat of my panicked heart.

Goosebumps race down my spine as warm, thick blood dances across my cold flesh.

Each attempt for breath now is an Olympic feat,

My weary body can’t go on.

Not breathing, I feel myself slip away.

I am still receptive to pain – OH ITS INTENSITY!

I can feel acids leaking from inside my body onto the cold tile underneath.

Astral projecting above my container,

I see it twitch and everything seems quite hazy. 

My once called “self” is floating in its own sea of blood. 

Frightened and trembling I flee,

But wait,

I see more bodies like mine,

All motionless on the same white tile floor aligning the oblong hall. 

I’m not alone. 

At the top of the arched hallway there are ten to fifteen like me. 

Almost transparent, small and bright,

Like fireflies on a midsummer night

All trapped at the top, not able to fly home. 

Left in the hall to die,

For some twisted mind’s pleasure;

A handmade nightlight.

~2

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