Saturday, February 26, 2005
Someone, please, bitch-slap me!
I just broke a major blogger rule. I went back & read my own archives. And I don't know about you; but it made me want to just start hitting the "Delete" key until only the post I wrote yesterday is still available. That's what it made ME feel like, anyway. Shhh! I think I may have self-confidence issues. I blame Blogshares because my stock dropped a little. Anyway, I'm reading my stuff & thinking, "Oh my God!! Did I really say that? Could anyone be more cliche than ME??". Actually, I don't really care. I started this blog as a diversion because my heart felt like it had been taken out with a rusty scapel. I wasn't out to impress anyone.
My mom is the writer; my sister is the artistic one; and my father is an Engineer & can (& has) build a car & a house with his bare hands. I can't draw a straight line; my kitchen sink faucet is all weird because replacing the washer is just TOO COMPLICATED; so I thought maybe I got a little something from my mom. And that's not apparent yet. Can't seem to write my way out of a paper bag. I wish I could write as well as my mom does. She's just too good. I can only aspire to write the way she does.
___________________
I don't know why I feel so anxious today. You know the feeling? Like you've forgotten something important? Someone's birthday; someone's sober day; someone's wedding rehearsal? I feel like the only thing that's going to make me feel better is to make a LIST. I don't know what kind of list. I just feel like I need to do something "organizational".
___________________
I'm going roller-skating tomorrow. Haven't done that in about 10 years. I'm hoping it's like the bike-riding thing. As in: you never forget how. I don't want to be on my ass all day. I'm still about 10 pounds under & my ass is pretty bony still. It could be painful. And I have a low threshold for pain. I cut my finger & need a percocet. I only ever take Tylenol; but I would accept a percocet if offered one.
____________________
Ya know what? There's a mini bottle of Grand Marnier (blood of the Gods) in my freezer. And there may be an answer at the bottom of it. Yeah, I know. There's never an answer at the bottom of a bottle; but it's a tiny bottle. And I don't indulge that much. Give me a break.
peace
My mom is the writer; my sister is the artistic one; and my father is an Engineer & can (& has) build a car & a house with his bare hands. I can't draw a straight line; my kitchen sink faucet is all weird because replacing the washer is just TOO COMPLICATED; so I thought maybe I got a little something from my mom. And that's not apparent yet. Can't seem to write my way out of a paper bag. I wish I could write as well as my mom does. She's just too good. I can only aspire to write the way she does.
___________________
I don't know why I feel so anxious today. You know the feeling? Like you've forgotten something important? Someone's birthday; someone's sober day; someone's wedding rehearsal? I feel like the only thing that's going to make me feel better is to make a LIST. I don't know what kind of list. I just feel like I need to do something "organizational".
___________________
I'm going roller-skating tomorrow. Haven't done that in about 10 years. I'm hoping it's like the bike-riding thing. As in: you never forget how. I don't want to be on my ass all day. I'm still about 10 pounds under & my ass is pretty bony still. It could be painful. And I have a low threshold for pain. I cut my finger & need a percocet. I only ever take Tylenol; but I would accept a percocet if offered one.
____________________
Ya know what? There's a mini bottle of Grand Marnier (blood of the Gods) in my freezer. And there may be an answer at the bottom of it. Yeah, I know. There's never an answer at the bottom of a bottle; but it's a tiny bottle. And I don't indulge that much. Give me a break.
peace
