I want to ask a question of The Writers here on WordPress. I don’t qualify as one because I only play one on TV, and even that’s just over on my own YouTube Channel with only 15 concrete [but who knows how many potential and therefore relentlessly harassed!] subscribers. (?)
So my question is this (and I already know you’re going to catch me in multiple “grammar fails” throughout the duration of this, so I’m just gonna save us both some time by going ahead and copping to it):
When YOU write, do you prefer the dark to the light, the pain to the joy, the HEAVY to the LIGHT-AS-A-FEATHER? Because it all comes down to just being human, doesn’t it?
And what’s our alternative to THAT, even with all the “slings and arrows” that come with said territory? We can’t become dolphins, after all. And honestly we probably wouldn’t want to: it’s terrible what happens to them when they get tangled up in nets and the next thing they know, they’re all cut up and part of your tunafish sandwich. So think about that for 1 or 2 seconds!
Anyway, I ask all of this of you because lately – and at a not-young age – I’ve noticed that ditching my feelings of shame and [reasonable? unreasonable?] guilt by writing about them on my blog has led to some strange feelings of nearly-unbearable lightness.
In fact, for my younger writers, there’s actually a movie about that very same topic from the early ‘90s featuring a SMOKING HOT 🔥 Daniel-Day Lewis. His name is Tomás in the movie, and he WILL try your patience, I can assure you!
I’ve never really understood what the movie’s about, though. And I’ve even read the book predating the movie by Milan Kundera. A couple of hundred of times!
I think it’s about LIFE getting so bad for the characters that they become “lite” as a way to cope. Or that everyone responds that way when they’re exposed to seemingly-unsurvivable suffering. Like I said: I honestly can’t remember! I was probably just looking at Daniel Day-Lewis, anyway. 🤷🏼♀️
So anyway, my point is I don’t know what Your Muse looks like. As for me and Mine, we kind of feel like we’ve [maybe? possibly? hopefully? please?] just finished 15-20 years of all that pain. And all that “seemingly-unsurvivable suffering”. All the time, or as I’m fond of saying: 25/8/9,162.
So I just kind of feel like it’s finally my time to be Lite in all Matters of Mind, Body, Heart, Soul, and Spirit.
And I’m having so much fun I can hardly stand it❣️ There’s something very inspirational in The Unbearable Lightness of Being.
My Summer as a Big Girl in Austin, TX., circa summer of 2021
Okay, you folks didn’t ask, but I can’t not tell. So here’s what Cooper and I really got up to in Austin in July….
I’ll try to tell it in “categories”, which makes perfect sense to me:
A. WHAT I TOOK WITH ME:
B. THE DRIVE UP THERE:
Was horrific, as All Time Served on Highway 35 is horrific. Particularly about halfway between San Antonio and Austin in this little town called New Braunfels. Why? Because The Powers That Be decided that 6:00pm on the Thursday before July 4th weekend would be a good time to take I-35’s 8 lanes down to 1 for construction. So technically, Cooper and I spent our first night parked on 35 in New Braunfels. Which made us so happy to arrive at our new home❣️
C. WHERE I STAYED:
A 500 square foot “college apartment” as I like to call it. One I wouldn’t have even considered living in for a month in my 30s but positively adored in my [very] early 50s (why does it always hurt to say that, even after all these years?).
Anyway, aside from being on the second floor, which neither Cooper nor I liked much, everything else was fabulous❣️ Okay, and the parking did kind of suck, but why are we quibbling when I had such a good time??!!
Anyway, there was a bathroom with a bathtub (thank you!), a galley kitchen (all I needed with Amazon Fresh and Uber Eats), a TV (with free Netflix- score again!), and most importantly to me, a bed (any bed). Because that’s where I intended to spend most of my time.
D. ALL THE NEW PEOPLE I MET:
I met plenty of boys, but I’ll just tell you about the one named Lucas. Lucas was 7-years-old back then (3 months ago), and I’m pretty sure he still is. Despite his young age, Lucas became my friend. He was the older son of my Airbnb hostess, and she was a single-by-choice mom of two kids. At my age, people! I think that’s pretty badass. She was really open about the fact that she got this wonderful guy to donate his sperm to her and about another couple hundred women for the purposes of making intelligent, charming, and beautiful babies no matter who’s X was attached to his Y. And Lucas was – is – all of those things: intelligent, charming, and beautiful.
Anyway, the 3 of us (me, Lucas, and Lucas’s mom) struck up a little deal. Since they lived a few houses away from my apartment, since my apartment was on the second floor, and since it was hot outside (more about that last irritant below), Lucas came over every couple of days to take Cooper for a quick walk. Then, he “literally” (good way to use it for a change) had to stay and talk with me while we waited for his mom to pick him up. The only wisdom I shared with him all that time was about the correct use of the word “literally.” Then I quizzed him about 5 different ways to make sure his understanding was comprehensive, and I was gratified to hear it was. I got a dog-walker, a friend, and a captive (I mean “student”) to listen to my interesting lectures for the bargain price of $2 a visit❣️ Best money I’ve spent in a long time!
E. THE RESTAURANTS I ATTENDED:
My Apartment, Truluck’s, and this typically-pretentiously-Austin restaurant called “Hestia.” Details are below, and hey, I’m doing them a solid with the viral exposure I’m giving them for free, so don’t worry about them! Plus, at the prices they charge, they’re laughing all the way to those crypto-currency sites.
Anyway, I think this was the vibe they were going for: something along the lines of “Quick Dirt-to-Table Time” or somesuch nonsense like that. The guy in the tight mauve velvet suit who spoke with an unplaceable accent (and people: I’ve seen the world!) got really excited when he started explaining this concept, but I fell asleep about 3 hours in. Fortunately (and there are several “fortunatelies” to this tale), I came to as the cocktails arrived. Good thing at $20 a pop. And then there were something like 48 miniature courses, all of them explaining that concept I told you about that I was fortunately (there’s another one!) able to snooze through. But I woke up when those expensive drinks hit the table! And can I say that the courses just kept on coming? I mean, like loooong after I’d taken the Uber back home, brushed my teeth, and fallen back asleep. Fortunately (!), my friend Julie watched my dog Cooper so his separation anxiety wouldn’t get separated when I left for this meal from The Early Roman Orgy Period. You know: the ones that lasted Forever And A Day?
The final fortunately of this particular evening, and it’s the biggest one of all folks, is that I was not required to pay a dime towards all this “Beautiful People in Velvet Suits” luxury.
And am I ever grateful for that! Because I saw the prices and was awake for at least 5 of those courses, so I’m absolutely certain the bill was somewhere in the middle 300s. Damn! Was I ever glad to escape that one!
Plus, the Uber driver on the way up there was very friendly and talkative and when I told him the exact year I had been born in Austin (19XX, and that’s all I’m saying publicly; he’d become a friend by then). Anyway, what he said – as he looked at me through the rear-view mirror – was “Well, don’t worry; you don’t look anywhere near that old.” Which in Austin qualifies as a “fortunately”: trust me, it was a compliment! And I take them whenever and wherever I can. I’m particularly fond of forcing them out of captives, though the Uber driver swore up and down he was being truthful about it. And that it had absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with his tip. I’m inclined to believe him, aren’t you?
I totally forgot where I was going with this post again! Menopause is really hitting me hard, Friends❣️ I think I’m getting wiser all the time, but I’ve got all this teenage angst and vanity hitting me up at the time, and I’ve got to say: it’s really magnified in a youth-centric town like Austin.
(I’m doing it again! I keep forgetting Austin is no longer a town!).
I know, it was the last “category” on my list: What I Did. So here you go:
F. WHAT I DID (while there, a little ironic this chapter comes with a grade of “F”, since I think I finally mastered it):
Absolutely nothing!! And it was so wonderful! No one there to collect my trash 25/8, no real worries (other than my standard ones), and my freedom. YES‼️ My FREEDOM‼️ 🎉🇺🇸🇹🇴🇬🇧 (I tried to choose flags from known supposedly-free countries to reflect my point).
Anyway, all I really wanted to do was Whatever I Wanted To Do Whenever I Wanted To Do It. Is that really so much to ask? I mean, is it?? Was it excessive? Because aside from the Amazon Fresh deliveries, I thought I kept this whole adventure pretty frugal and peace-loving: sort of like a summer in an old VW bus.
The ultimate luxury? Keeping the thermostat on 65 degrees! With only 500 feet of living place, it cooled down in a real jiffy! And let’s face it: this was South Central Texas in July. I’ve repeatedly confessed to some rather vexing hormone imbalances that often show up in unbearably hot ways.
But again I digress! I must be a Digressor. I’m also a Preparor. I had my hair coiffed, nails painted, and waxing waxed beforehand. Because you know those people are hard to find in a new town! And I fully intended to look gorgeous every single day! I actually refused not to. So even though I was referred to as “middle-aged” in that police report I told you guys about earlier, I knew I was killing it.
At least my little brush with the law had nothing to do with my marijuana consumption (which I always think of as “recent,” but if I’m painfully honest with myself, “recent” is about the last 3 years). Please don’t tell the cops about that, okay? I did say “What happened in Austin stays in Austin”: I just need to amend that to include “especially if the Austin Police Department are involved.”
So between Lucas helping me out with my Cooper walks and my Determination To Do Nothing, I pretty much accomplished my goals! Not to mention, I really sharpened up my Solitaire game while I was up there. Do you see how well I did in that screenshot below? Do you have any idea how many games it takes to land on one you could potentially totally dominate? Let’s just say y’all would’ve been mpressed by my determination (there’s that inner determination showing up again!)
Anyway. I won’t say anymore about my score (we all know how impressive it is), but I will say that I am a member of the Fewest Moves school of thought. And I’m a very deep thinker. I know some people just want to get it all over with as quickly as possible, but I actually prefer Perfection to Speed. Honestly, it’s a mystery to me why Everyone’s always in such a rush!
And I’m not even addressing the “Quality vs. Quantity” debate here, let me make that perfectly clear. I’m just fine with Quantity – in fact I’m quite the fan. But never, and I repeat never, at the expense of Quality. I didn’t go all the way to Austin just to eat McDonald’s, now did I?
Or to play so much Solitaire, for that matter. Because let’s be honest, we all know that’s why I went up there in the first place! I will never [purposely] mislead you here. Because I’m very transparent and honest and value those qualities in others. Unless they’re opposing me on Solitaire or have apparently become so offended by my parking that they felt the need to call the Austin Fucking Police Department about it! Let’s just stay away from this whole topic, okay? I’m starting to get a little uncomfortable.
Anyway, deep breath taken and we’re back to the topic of Why I Love Solitaire So Much. One: it’s both consistent AND reliable. Two: I don’t have to put on that insufferable magnetic eyeliner just to play with it. Three (and these aren’t in any order of importance): as long as my iPhone has juice, so does my Solitaire.
Which was always very comforting to me when I’d go [back to] bed, iPhone next to me charging all night.
The Brady Bunch (that’s right), Judy Collins, Shaun Cassidy, Foreigner (Juke Box Hero), Journey (Open Arms), CULTURE CLUB (!), ZZ Top (twice), 38 Special, Golden Earring, Rod Stewart, The Church, The Replacements, U2, THE WHO (4 hour drive in each direction), Huey Lewis and the News, Johnny Rotten’s rotten band, Charlie Sexton, Elvis Costello, Bob Schneider, Black Sabbath (wow, what a story!), and Van Halen. I’m sure I’m missing at least 10.
At outdoor venues, like Chastain Park in Atlanta, Tanglewood in the Berkshires, and Ravinia outside of Chicago. I remember seeing Chicago, The Boston Pops, and Kenny Loggins at those 3 places, respectively. But I’m certain I forgot many. Including Mary Chaplin Carpenter, multiple incarnations of Fleetwood Mac, a 1990s version of Crosby, Stills, and ??, and again, too many my Gray Matter has forgotten to remember.
Which ones date you?
P.S. I’m really sorry for painting your cool outfit with highlighter yellow, Shaun.I was eleven when you Arrived, so hopefully you understand about short-term memory loss and technology missteps.
P.P.S. For the record, I stopped wanting to marry you in 1979. So I’m not cyber-stalking you, no matter what Billy Squier says.
I’m in Austin for the month of July and will be back during the month of December and January or Just January (San Antonio in between). Anyway, my dog, Cooper, and I are on the second floor – the first second floor in Cooper’s entire life! I’ve got to say that – it’s now been a week into our “staycation” – and he’s been a real champ with those outdoor stairs. Up and down twice or three times a day in addition to walks on top of it… and let’s just say I’ve learned over the last week:
BOTH of us old dogs over here can learn new tricks!
Man saying he’ll only believe in a Supreme, All-Powerful Force once he has human-approved, scientifically robust evidence of His Divine existence is like a slug defending his critical analysis of Shakespeare’s views on immortality using slug trails only. It’s absurd on so many levels, I hope they don’t require written elaboration.
The above is a SIMILE
As a slug defends his critical analysis of Shakespeare’s views on immortality using slug trails, so man shakes his fist at the Cosmos and demands human-approved, human-defined evidence of a Supreme Divinity in order to believe in its existence.
The above is still a SIMILE
The Man who demands evidence of the Divine in small, digestible terms he can understand is a slug convinced he can describe Shakespeare’s views on immortality using slug trails.
The above is a METAPHOR
A man who literally demands evidence that God literally exists is like a slug literally thinking it can imagine conceptual themes in literature, like Shakespeare’s views on immortality and then literally describing them using slug trails alone. Like…literally.
I don’t know what the above statement is an example of other than how we leech every ounce of meaning from a word once it goes “viral.” I took a test in high school that asked the following question: “What is the opposite of literal language?” The answer was “metaphorical language.” I am not arguing the Strunk & White correctness of what we learned. I AM bemoaning the fact I can’t make it through a 24-hour-period without hearing the word “literally” proceed forth from at least 8 separate sets of human lips.
And that just bugs me in an intolerant way I neither like nor understand. Even though I realize it’s like any other go-to, overused term that Society at Large latches onto, only to discard 20 years later from Our Collective English Lexicon..
So, please forgive me, Millennials, Genexers, and All Other Souls from Every Living Generation:
It’s not as if I don’t have more far important things to worry about than the words that trickle out of your mouths. All day, every day, 25 hours OF that day.
I warned y’all “Black & White Thinking” Jennifer can get really bitchy and opinionated when it comes to All Things Trivial and Inconsequential. And literally All Things Significant.
But damn! Could you maybe just start THINKING about how you use this word?
Because it’s literally starting to affect my blood pressure. Honestly. Like, literally. I shit you not. Literally [but not “literally”].
So I found out I’ve been using a word I like incorrectly for donkeys’ years now.
Turns out it’s cathexis and its numerous grammatical iterations.
So, colloquially it means “to invest energy in or stimulate” (or its infinitive version is for the grammocrats). But I’m not sure that’s what it started out meaning.
Back in the day, and I could have this wrong based on atrophy of my gray matter (or green matter for that matter; I can’t remember which color matters in matters of brain matter), it meant something else entirely.
Mostly because of two books that I wouldn’t classify as “pop psychology” because they were much deeper than that, but they did have a huge influence on the masses in the ‘70s (that’s of the 1900s).
These books were called “The Road Less Traveled” and something like “The Drama of the Gifted Child” and yes, I read them both. Not in the 70s of course because I was a small child then and wouldn’t have known the meaning of words like “cathexis.”
So anyhoo (that’s the second time I’ve used that term today; it’s not looking great for my green matter), I honestly can’t remember which of the two books addressed the all-encompassing issue of cathexis. Which apparently made such a strong impression on me that I’ve been using the term incorrectly all these years.
See, I thought it meant to love and attach to your caregivers and vice versa, and if it doesn’t happen, you’ll grow up to get really upset when someone drops an ice cream cone on the ground. Or something like that?
If any of my 21 subscribers have read either book or happen to be mental health professionals, elucidation would be greatly appreciated.
Because I’m going to quit “cathecting” to the wrong right things, and I’m going to start cathecting with the right wrong things. Or quit eating ice cream altogether.
In spite of the fact I owe Spotify an apology and in fact am not the devil, I have been contemplating all things insanity and the ways it might manifest in later life. I started searching for an overview of the early warning signs over on YouTube (where I have been getting in fights lately!! Even instigating them!!)
Anyway, since I have A.D.D., I had to stop to get in a few good fights over on the true crime channels. Side note: I usually am the most vociferous judge of the “evil psychopaths” and poor innocent victims in every story. Wouldn’t they just love to know that the snarky bitch who calls herself “Karaoke Konnection” blabs about her own inner evil over in WordPressLand!!??
So again, I got sidetracked. Side note number two: why do I always get sidetracked?
Anyhoo, up pops my feed after my “cyber-altercations.” And I feel the Universe must be trying to get me away from all that Cosmic Aggression. Side note number three: it can get really toxic over there, people! You wouldn’t believe the bitchy people who will pick fights with you! But y’all would have been proud of me: I started protecting myself by refusing to allow anyone to ever draw first blood again. So I’m finally sticking up for myself against those cyber-bullies!
Where was I? Oh yes!! So like I felt The Man or The Force pull me out of that pit of vipers and return me to The Light.
By bringing my vision-distorted eyes to the videos about inner healing and, when I really need an ego boost, the Myers-Briggs and Personality Type videos. And the reason they’re all so personally gratifying is no matter when I take them, I always come out as THE COOLEST TYPE! It doesn’t matter which test it is, it literally is a Test I Cannot Fail, so strong is my charisma!
Yes, it can be a burden having to be so exceptionally charming all the time, but I’ve learned to live with it. As all good ENFP-T, Enneagram 4-3s must!
What can I say that isn’t said below? We are the unicorns of which I write and it’s our planet the rest of you inhabit! We just let you lease our space.
By the way, if y’all get directed over to YouTubeVille, tell ‘em Karaoke Konnection sent you. My people will keep an eye out for you.
Did you not read my post yesterday about how You were one of the Last Heroes of Smartphone Integrity in these days of “Technology Rape?”
Simply for allowing us to listen to our music on your app while actually simultaneously DOING SOMETHING PRODUCTIVE, like paying bills on other apps?
You don’t like being a Hero much, do you?
Because, as of this morning, this one quality – this one thing that made you [somewhat] special – is now officially gone. Erased by Hal (of Space Odyssey notoriety, youngsters) during my “download” last night. You know: the one that goes into that Matrix port in my brain while I’m sleeping?
I’d like to think it was an accident, or something silly like “Operator Error.” Only this Operator isn’t stupid and didn’t turn stupid overnight.
Do you honestly think I have nothing better to do than listen to your music while simultaneously staring at your boring static app?
Maybe I don’t really need your answer to that last question. The more egregious fallout of your betrayal is what you’re literally forcing me to do here.
Which is sending me into the cold, hard, made-of-85karat-gold arms of Jeff Bezos. You know that, don’t you? And after I publicly stated he’s been relentlessly pursuing me for the last few months?
I do not want to be embraced by those arms! Maybe by Any Other Living Arms, but not his.
So what was it they did in the Old Testament? I think it was speaking these words out loud:
“I Divorce You, I Divorce You, I Divorce You!”
-Leviticus or one of the other “First Five”
I’m pretty sure witnesses weren’t required, so I’m just providing y’all with a front row seat to my Impending Divorce.
And damnit, but I’ve had to go through a lot of divorces lately! Not to mention the Two Before.
You know the part I hate the most about Divorce? [I am an undisputed expert, so please do listen well]…
It’s all the crap you have to do (or, The Four “F’s”, as I like to call them):
Fucking Pack up all your shit (*see note below)
Find alternate services
Fill out all that godforsaken paperwork – even if it is digital, it still should be done away with under The Paperwork Reduction Act (**see second note)
And probably most importantly: Figure out how to get your needs met by the new guy (***see third note)
*Theres nothing I hate more than assembling those loathsome wardrobe boxes from U-Haul. And you know I’m going to need about 14, you greedy motherfucker! I’d almost stay with you to avoid this whole process, but I’m starting to get ANGRY now, and trust me: nobody needs to see that. So I’m coming for you, Confounding Tape Dispenser with Teeth! We’re about to renew our relationship.
**Why doesn’t The Paperwork Reduction Act address Paperwork In General? Because it’s high time we got rid of it all! Collectively decided to wipe it from The Face of The Earth! I’ll even use my monthly $10.81 (x 60 months, don’t lose sight of that!) Spotify payment to contribute to that cause.
***Regarding #4: Really? Next to assembling wardrobe boxes, you know how I despise breaking in a “new guy.” After years of cultivating playlists that actually have personal significance to me, you’re forcing me to do it all over again. With a newbie.
I just don’t get it, Spotify. Other than that one time in 2018, did I ever miss a payment? No, I did not. So then…Why? Because you know what? I was actually thankful for the Music you brought into my Toneless Life. I enjoyed adding a soundtrack to my daily life. I even enjoyed that karaoke playlist that I used to prepare for my shitty little performances. Maudlin of me, I know.
Besides, how can I put on a decent performance if I can’t look at the lyrics from Jeff’s sight while listening to said songs? As a matter of fact: your petty jealousy is preventing me from realizing my dreams of becoming The Next Karaoke Sensation. I will personally blame you if my dreams [so fresh and new after having none for so long] never reach fruition.
I thought you loved me, but you just married me for my money.
The truth hurts, but I can’t live with all of you ruthless capitalists anymore! I’m going to join a fringe group like the Peace Corps or something equally radical because like I said: I’m really starting to get pissed off here.
Did I not just advise you to Never Underestimate Me?
What’s that expression again?
“Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.”
Well, can I just say that this woman is feeling both scorned and furious right now?
So if you’ve done me wrong, I suggest you start implementing counter-surveillance maneuvers and change your locks. Also, you might want to park that Ferrari somewhere with controlled access. I know you’ll just get it fixed, but my keys are really sharp and I can’t help that they start vibrating in my hand when I see your fleet of luxury automobiles in my pot-hole-riddled parking lot.
Let me tell y’all a little something about Austin, Texas. It’s sure changed a hell of a lot since I was a young college student between the years of 1984 and 1987.
It is now a big mega-hub for the Lone Star State (who I can criticize because I was born in Austin in 196X (it’s a very high number, rest assured). The reason is because we’re whoring ourselves to bring jobs to the state, and we dangled some pretty shiny baubles to make ELON swoon and bring his crew here. And don’t forget the Venerable Joe Rogan’s “studio” is here. Well, technically about 70 miles North of here -as the crow flies.
Anyway, let’s just say that God reached down and kissed me by letting me live in Austin the three and a half years I did. You can see a photo of me with my former roommate (now a highly respected doctor) in our 3-bedroom house we rented for $600 a month. I’m willing to account for inflation, but what’s happening in Austin is very sad. The people from California moving here got way more money when selling their houses there than they cost in Austin, driving prices to unaffordable levels for the locals. This has had a spillover effect on rental prices as well. My friend Julie has been a colorful regular Austin character for 35 years, having waited tables at virtually every restaurant in that town! Oops, sorry, I forgot it’s not a town anymore.
Well, Julie can no longer pay her rent on the hovel she shares with an abusive man since they just raised it from $900/month to $1400/month. After 8 years of tenancy. But when I write about what’s going on in Austin on LinkedIn, nobody “likes” what I have to say. Side note: LinkedIn isn’t very ENFP-friendly. Things can get pretty artificial over there, so I prefer it over here when I feel like I need to express myself. Thanks again, Readers❣️
Anyway, right wrong or indifferent, I got my stimulus check and immediately booked an Airbnb for the month of July in Austin. I hadn’t really spent any time up there in so many decades, and I needed to get away for a while. You feel me? July 2021…Quarantine…with my elderly parents…need I say more?
So… I boarded my ghetto Maltipoo, Cooper, into my 2007 slothmobile and we headed up to Austin on July 1st, 2021. We got ourselves into some “misadventures” up there in that “supremely cool,” Live Music Capitol of the United States of America.
Now the details aren’t as salacious as my COLLEGE years, but if you want to hear about Austin, you have to tell me. This is SOCIAL media, after all❣️ If ONE PERSON says they want to hear what happened in Austin, I’ll tell you.
Otherwise: what happened in Austin STAYS in Austin.
I have another idea. I know the current situation with the parents isn’t ideal, but you know that’s temporary. So consider:
What do we need, like 15 minutes, 10? Seriously, I think we can safely say we only need 12 minutes total for this.
I will start to mention to my elderly mother and stepfather that I am “seeing ants again.” I’ll mention it a couple of times max.
My Poor Mother’s OCD will be so activated by this alarming news that she will immediately want to call an exterminator. I will tell her I’ll take care of the details.
In the meantime, you go to Home Depot and buy one of those hose apparatuses (apparatusi?) that you use when you have to put Round Up on the weeds.
We set the date and you show up with the Round Up thingy and a dark polo shirt (preferably one with someone’s name on it if possible) and a pair of khakis. Your name can be “Jose.”
You’ll discover an area of intense concern in my bedroom. You’ll say the ant hive is located immediately beneath the flooring just over the door jam in my bedroom. So you’ll have to shut the door for at least 20 minutes, certainly no less (always under-promise and over-deliver).
I’ll claim to be so violently ill that I couldn’t possibly leave the bedroom that long in my current state. And that if Jose is okay with ME and his chemicals aren’t going to kill me, then he can stay and we can just go ahead and close the door.
Both of them are partially-to-completely deaf, especially my OCD mother, which is a mercy for us.
At that point, we have 10-15 minutes to “get rid of some ants.”
You just have to promise to TRY to keep it down. My mother could potentially feel the vibrations and begin collecting trash bags throughout the house, as is her preferred process when having one of her OCD “attacks.” And she’s particularly worried about the trash in my room, what with the ants and all.
But still: what a deal, right? Fifteen minutes of PURE ME for all of $29.99. I’m pretty sure that’s the best damn special Home Depot’s EVER had!
We’re off to a great start today! It’s better if you play this song at the same time as you look at the [revised] lyrics. Fortunately, Spotify still allows you to play the songs you pay $10.81/month to listen to while on other apps, so thank you for the generosity, Spotify (big shout out to you for owning all our music until we unsubscribe, at which point you take your music away – even the downloaded stuff!)
But I digress. You simply have to hear Bowie’s voice crack when he amps up the volume towards the end (minute 3:17 for those who feel the need to skip ahead). At this point, the song has the potential to transport you to the Land of Unicorns and Leprechauns. I want to go.
I, I will be king (queen) And you, you will be queen (king) Though nothing will drive them away We can beat them, just for one day We can be heroes, just for one day
And you, you can be mean And I, I’ll drink all the time (smoke weed) ‘Cause we’re lovers, and that is a fact Yes we’re lovers, and that is that Though nothing will keep us together We could steal time just for one day We can be heroes for ever and ever What d’you say?
I, I wish you could swim Like the dolphins, like dolphins can swim Though nothing, nothing will keep us together We can beat them, for ever and ever Oh we can be Heroes, just for one day
I, I will be king And you, you will be queen Though nothing will drive them away We can be Heroes, just for one day We can be us, just for one day
I, I can remember (I remember) Standing, by the wall (by the wall) And the guns, shot above our heads (over our heads) And we kissed, as though nothing could fall (nothing could fall) And the shame, was on the other side Oh we can beat them, for ever and ever Then we could be Heroes, just for one day
We can be Heroes We can be Heroes We can be Heroes Just for one day We can be Heroes
We’re nothing, and nothing will help us Maybe we’re lying, then you better not stay But we could be safer, just for one day
Would you please quit fighting with each other and trying to exploit me?
Let’s start with the issue of “storage”: you all know what you’re doing, and you’re greedy motherfuckers.
Just because I made the decision to TRY OUT YOUR PRODUCTS between 10 and 25 years ago does NOT mean I owe you my forever-allegiance.
Yet you’re starting to act very entitled about my patronage.
You’re threatening me every five minutes that if I won’t upgrade to YOUR storage package, I’m in danger of losing my precious digital mementos and files.
Not to mention, it pisses me off that as an 11-year loyal iPhone customer, STEVE (from wherever; I won’t speculate) gets pissed off that I just bought a chrome-cast and then JEFF gets mad that I also purchased an Asis tablet thingy PURELY to access my Microsoft Office files.
Yes, yes, yes…THANK YOU BILL‼️
Because we all know YOU are THE MAN‼️
Who’s richer than every last one of us…
…can either hope or imagine being;
Than we can even wrap our little penniless brains around.
So WHY are you all fighting?? You have SO MUCH MORE than the buyers of your products, yet you are relentless in your pursuit of our meager funds! And relative to what you GUYS have, our millionaires have “meager funds.”
Plus, it also irritates me that ALL of my electronic devices are CONFUSED and REFUSE to talk to each other! Not even my Bluetooth earbuds will communicate with anyone other than my IPhone. So I’m blaming Y’ALL for the current discord in my family!
Whoever thought the World’s Biggest Billionaires had the time to orchestrate something like that?
P.S. I paid the extortion fee for “premium services” from all of you. Like all good peasants, I realized if I wanted to stay in business, I had to relent.
I don’t have time to write much today. I just wanted to ‘fess up that, after my lofty musings of last Friday, I’m now back in the thick of all-too-human emotions. I found out last night that a friend of mine, who totaled his new and fully loaded SUV while driving drunk, has just bought himself a brand new one. Meanwhile, my car is sicker than I am. And she looks more beat up than I do. I haven’t exactly provided her with regular facials (I don’t wash her very often, and she sits under a sap tree), her sides have some wrinkles from a few years ago (when I opted to keep the insurance money rather than get her the Botox she rightly deserved), and lastly, her face is broken due to a little fender bender I got us into last week. To add to her and my worries, she’s VERY old (1999; practically a “classic” in today’s world). But she’s “Old Money” – an Infiniti gal – and her parts are extremely expensive relative to her Blue Blood (Blue Book value).
But enough about HER. My question is this: Am I wallowing in self-pity or have I been bitten by the green-eyed monster? Am I actually jealous of someone’s new car just 36 hours before I have a scheduled double mastectomy? If so, I need the surgeons to perform an “Attitude Adjustment” while they cut, prod, and do what it is surgeons do. At a minimum, I need to write up a gratitude list of all I’m thankful for…a list which most definitely includes my trusty, dusty, and rusty car. Even if she IS thirsty all the time, and refuses to drink water!
Monday, September 10, 2012 at 12:21pm CST from my original blog
P.S. I have green eyes, so I’m pretty sure both Self-Pity AND the Green-Eyed Monster have regular rooms in my hotel (2021).
After 10 years of active avoidance of and determined disengagement from All Things Kardashian, this Family’s incessant ubiquity and unrelenting pursuit of my attention have me simultaneously crying “Uncle!” and “Enough!”
I was hoping by 2021 we could collectively agree that all women are beautiful just as they are: tall, short, curvy, hippy, short-legged, big-busted, waifish, dark, light, red, white… it’s all good because there’s Someone for Everyone.
In a culture where we proclaim to value the individual, we will still select Archetypes to emulate. I had [mistakenly] assumed these people represent the best of what we humans are capable; ordinary people who’ve found themselves in extraordinary circumstances and, to their surprise as well as our own, find themselves accomplishing extraordinary things. These heroes inspire us to forsake the comfort of Now for the anxiety of What’s Next; the status quo for a moving but more suitable target; what we know for what we’re willing to learn. Because that’s what our Role Models have done!
However, when the people we’ve elected as our Exemplars, our Paragons of Femininity, venerate vapidity, praise pretentiousness, celebrate superficiality, extoll egotism, and magnify manipulation, we need to replace them.
Or am I the only one suffering from Kardashian Fatigue?
I’ll just let the Great Howard Jones speak for me today…
I love you whether or not you love me I love you even if you think that I don't Sometimes I find you doubt my love for you But I don't mind Why should I mind? Why should I mind?
What is love anyway? Does anybody love anybody anyway? What is love anyway? Does anybody love anybody anyway? Can anybody love anyone so much that they will never fear? Never worry never be sad? The answer is they cannot love this much nobody can This is why I don't mind you doubting
What is love anyway? Does anybody love anybody anyway? What is love anyway? Does anybody love anybody anyway?
And maybe love is letting people be just what they want to be The door always must be left unlocked To love when circumstance may lead someone away from you And not to spend the time just doubting
What is love anyway? Does anybody love anybody anyway? What is love anyway? Does anybody love anybody anyway? What is love anyway? Does anybody love anybody anyway? What is love anyway? Does anybody love anybody anyway? What is love anyway? Does anybody love anybody anyway? What is love anyway? Does anybody love anybody anyway?
In fact, I want to start my own planet and fill it with ENFPs (certain other types can always visit). On this planet, we measure time in cycles, stages, and “phases,” rather than in boring old linear order.
We also get to run this planet according to “ENFP Rules:”
No need for dusty legal books filled with obscure laws. Our Rules can be summed up as follows:
Be nice, follow your heart, love deeply, assume the best but prepare for the worst, sing Karaoke, and don’t EVER consider yourself better than anyone else.
Also, you MUST call if you EVER need my help. Of course I can’t promise to be available that far in advance, but I can and do promise I’ll get back to you just as soon as possible.
Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall Humpty Dumpty had a great fall And all the kings horses and all the kings men Couldn’t put Humpty Dumpty together again.
We whisper these horrible words into the ears of small children. How hopeless Humpty Dumpty must have felt!
Next project: a brand new set of fairy tales about ordinary people doing extraordinary things. Let’s get poor victimized Cinderella some therapy and a new place to live. Let’s give Rapunzel a key to that wretched tower, a good haircut, and a new job where she’s appreciated. I guarantee one day she’ll know her own strength.
While we’re at it, Prince Charming needs a vacation and some hobbies. He’d probably cry tears of relief just to learn he doesn’t have to be charming all the time (I know I certainly would). And talk about a high-stress job?!?! Not only does he slay dragons all day, he’s on call all night should any of his damsels find themselves in distress. Or need rescuing. Or have a flat tire.
I know that I don’t want to lose our one and only Prince Charming to Adrenal Failure.