I will NOT call work today and say, "I'm sorry.  I can't make it in on time because my next door neighbor somehow shot a hole in her floor last night and hit plumbing so now I can't make coffee, shower, brush my teeth... PEE!".

I just won't do it. 

The people living next door look about 15.  I'm sure they're older.. I guess..  who knows.   A boy and girl... always seemd quite nice.  I'm sure there's more to the story, but at 6am when your landlord is standing in the doorway looking at your chest instead of your face telling you not to run water at all... someone murdered the plumbing... it's hard to focus on the details. 

(He wasn't having any trouble focusing.)  Hey... yoohooo!  I'm up here!  I guess the morning air sweeping through the doorway was a little cold and my tshirt was a bit thin.  Move along now.

I don't know if I'm more shocked that she owns a gun, or that I  just assumed she wouldn't.  After all... this is the south.  I may very well be the only person here who doesn't own one...

~Can they kick you out for that??~

When God fearin' women get the blues...

If they happen to have their daddy's truck, they grab the keys, head out toward town while hitting every single dusty backroad along the way driving wrecklessly fast, laughing at every head that turns while they're blarring angry girl music until they get there.

Then they buy chocolate cake and mint cookie ice cream, donuts, popcorn, chips, and brownies.

They eat too much, go to bed... blow off work, and sleep in....

Now maybe they'll shop...

Another morning of not enough sleep and too much coffee.  I feel right at home.  You'd think I would have learned by now that too much coffee for breakfast makes me jittery and weird.  Actually I think I have learned it.  I think I like it that way.

For three days now I've had that "oh my god touch me now" feeling that I just cannot seem to shake.  The feeling sneaks upon me, and just takes over.  So now I walk around with this urge.  It's almost like the tingling sensation you feel when you know someone is standing behind you.  Except this one, you want.  This one, it would be wonderful if you could turn around and see someone standing behind you.  Better yet, not turn around at all... just feel the touch.

I am a very outgoing social person.  I took the Bloginality test on Jackal's blog once.  My results were ENFP.  It said my primary focus was extraverted intuition with introverted feeling.  If you can explain that to me, please do.  All I know is I've spent my entire life very much being the social butterfly. But I've come to realize over the past  year that I'm a fake social butterfly... more like the plastic butterfly magnets you buy to hold things on your fridge.

I don't want to be the center of attention anymore.  I want to be the center of someone's attention, and the rest of the world can just leave for lunch.  I remember when I was a little girl I used to think the world was going to fall down around me if someone wasn't happy with me.  If I disappointed anyone, or if someone didn't like me.  I would be whoever... whatever I needed to be in order to have someone accept me.  When I was a young adult, I made sure there was always an accomplishment my Daddy could brag about to whichever unlucky person walked into his path.

I had no clue who I was.  I had no clue what emotions and feelings were really mine or someone else's borrowed happiness.  I'm not sure any of them were mine.

But now I know.  The last five years of my life have been been the rollercoaster ride from hell, and I don't even think it's over.  But I've learned who I am, and to be honest, I'm nothing like the person I thought I'd turn out to be this far in my life. 

At twenty-three my entire world was how far I could go in my career.  My personality was whatever happened to be accepted that month.  My style was whatever everyone else was wearing.  My views... hmm... I don't know, what did you think?  Because whatever everyone else was thinking is what I was thinking.  My love life.... whatever it takes to make you happy, baby.

At thirty-three, you've heard latley, my career can bite my ass... just let me pay my bills.  My personality, well that depends on what day it is whether anyone else likes it or not.  My style... I don't care how popular it is, I'm still not wearing that freaky tangerine orange crap everyone else is wearing.  My views... well, almost no one ever agrees with me!  My love life now.... if you don't want me, someone else does... and if he doesn't, I learned a long time ago where the right buttons are to push all by myself.

I still fall back into the butterfly I used to fake being sometimes.  Everyone wants to be accepted.  But I catch myself before I go too far.  When you wake up one morning and realize who you really are,  you're screwed.  You can never go back to being the someone everyone wants you to be.  Trust me, that's not always good.  Going from pretending you're perfect to being hit in the face with every little flaw daily... it's like spitting in the wind. 

Now why would anyone voluntarily do that to themselves.... because I want to be touched.  And when I'm touched, I want to know how it feels to me.... I'm thinking... I don't really care how it feels to anyone else.

~Besides, the most beautiful butterflies are the rare ones~

I see the moon and the moon sees me.

And the moon sees the one that I want to see.

So God bless the moon and God bless me.

And God bless the one that I want to see.

Have the rest of you ever noticed we have a small circle of bloggers who are quite loyal to each other?  I mean, I read tons of blogs that I never comment upon, that I'm not linked to, and I visit new ones every day.  But there is a small community of them that I visit daily.  They visit me. 

I brought this up because I've noticed that in my little circle of blogs, we all hit the same moods at the same time.  When I'm feeling literary (I never write it here) I will sit down to visit my fellow bloggers, and almost all of you will have posted something containing the most beautiful, thought provoking, creative writings I could ever hope to read.

If I'm feeling quite the introvert I will read and see that you're feeling the same... quiet, contemplative.  Someone will be feeling the same and even times be able to explain it better than I ever could.

Almost always when I'm filling like I've been boxed in, and I'm ready to explode and take the world with me... when I'm feeling frantic or lost.... searching with no idea what I'm looking for... tons of you are feeling the same things.

When I've read the lastest news, and it has me disgusted, angry, saddened... someone else will vocalize that frustration down to the letter.

Do we feed off each other?  

I read Jackal's blog and become so lost in the latest search for myself (she manages to make me look from my inside out way too often) that before I know it, I'm enlisting your help to find me. 

I believe every single time I've ever posted a "coming out of my skin" post, I've gone to IML's blog and read the same exact emotions.  What astounds me is after I read her, I come back here and find she's left words of clarity, support... positive advice... I've often wondered how she did that when I know she's being swept away by the same tide that's carrying me out to sea...(Except I can't swim) 

Time and time again, I've taken walks down the gravel roads of my childhood here in the south, and surfed over to find that Schmuck has taken the same walk.  (I was just never stoned)

I visit my links daily... at least I usually do... (some of them, Moonchickie and Pigboy have to be visited several if you want to keep up)... and I find myself in laughter and tears.  I catch myself jumping on whichever bandwagon one of you might have rolling forward.

Then there are blogs that I visit because I know what I'm going to find... they make think it's a bad thing, but to me it's perfect.  I know if I want to remember that real life is a wonderful place filled with ups and downs that I wouldn't trade for anything, I can go visit Noble.

When I want to be reassured I'm not the only slighty neurotic, overthinking, undersexed human being on the planet, I go see Dave.  (He'd better not object to that description.  I know him in the real world.  I have stories to entertain you with for years.)

Maybe it's really the pull of the moon, the changing of the seasons, the universe at work in all its glory.  Maybe we are drawn by the same forces sometimes.  Maybe the changing of the times, civilization as we know it, maybe it's forcing us all to conform and we don't even realize it.

Hell... maybe I'm just a lemming looking for a really cute ass to follow.

~Nobody jump off a cliff until I figure it out~

So... that's it.  I'm never laughing again, and I'm making sure my doors and windows are locked much tighter at night.

Somehow last night a crow got into my house and walked across my eyes!!  It had to have happened last night.  I would have noticed it earlier otherwise!  I have wrinkles underneath my eyes that I'm positive were not there yesterday.

Please oh please let it be just strain... stress from the killer headache I've had since 3am.  That's what it is, I'm sure.  I would never have noticed if not for waking up looking like I've been hit by a truck.  Night number two with no sleep, and boy can ya tell!  So I spent extra time with the moisturizers, makeup... 

I'm afraid it's too late.  The sands of time are blowing... right across my face.  Won't be long now until my breasts and my ass move south for the winter.  I didn't like the wrinkles... at all.  But I'm just not sure I care so much about everything else.  As long as I don't start looking like I've been rode  hard and put up wet, I'm ok with this.  I am!  Really!  Well, I will be after some intense therapy and drugs... 

I think I'm attractive!  And that's what matters, right??  (yeah, that's why we spend all that money and time on our appearance.. so we think we're hot)

I'd feel better about this whole aging thing if I didn't have such a twisted mind.  Like thinking it doesn't matter if I'm starting to get wrinkles on my face... it's not like they're looking at your face when they're talking to you anyway.  Oh wait... that means they're looking at my breasts!  They're still shapely...  not deflated balloons... yet.  That's ok if they're not as perky as they used to be, I'll just walk by him with the knowledge I'm sexy!!  Oh my god... walk by him?!?!  That means he's gonna see my ass!  Do these heels make my ass look big??

Thank the goddess this paranoia only  hits every once in a while... like when I'm suffering from sleep deprivation.  Most of the time I'm too busy to care whether or not I'm noticed at all.  Otherwise, being one of those women who lived with this daily would kill me.

I'm so glad I have something to take my mind off this today.  I have to go speak with the boys with the ass microscopes. 

~Just what I need... someone getting a closeup view~

Ok... so I had this post all written this morning... all dreamy and mushy.... words flowing freely about love...

Then I realized, "You're going on three hours of sleep, be happy  you're not crying in your coffee... shut up, already!"

Truth is, I fall in love with everything around me every day of my life.  I don't mean the kind of love you feel for the person that makes your heart want to jump out of your chest.  But I do think that maybe we don't allow oursevles to see the little things to love until that person enters our lives.  (That, and the ultimate fear of ending up a frigid old hag with too many cats)

Things like... waking up after 3 hours of sleep, freezing to death, finding the blanket pushed to the bottom of the bed, grabbing it, and wrapping yourself up in its warmth.... how can you NOT love that?!  Or... or ... putting on thick fresh socks in the evening after spending ten hours in heels???  You gotta love that!

It's sooo easy to forget the little things that bring smiles to our faces.  We shouldn't let that happen.  I cherish anything that makes me feel.  When bad things happen, it's too easy to close off and pray to never feel again.  But who really wants to live like that?  You hurt, wallow in it if you need to, then deal with it, and let it fly away.  I know, I know it's not that easy.  It takes time, strength, courage, determination, forgiveness... even love.  But it does happen.

There are bad things that have happened in my life that no matter how hard I try, the equation above will never erase them.  So when they bring themselve to the front of my mind, I embrace them... hold them there against their will, curse them, yell at them, cry over them... let the breakdown happen.  Then I get up, dust off, stick my tongue out with a "Ha!  Bet ya weren't expecting that!"... and it's back to the parts of my life that matter.

Who knows... maybe I'm delusional this morning.  Maybe I'm in love... maybe I've developed an unbelievable fear of cats.

I have another meeting today about the whole job thing... (not DMV or Public Health, btw).  I think I'm going to go in smiling (claws retracted), and try to push the whole thing off on assboy again. 

Ahhh...  some of you don't know assboy!!!  I'll have to bring you up to date soon.  :) 

~But not right now, I've had 3 hours of sleep, and there's either the man of my dreams to think about... or a cat following me around... ya just never know.~

Is "kiss my ass, dude" to be considered as insubordination?  I'm thinking, yes, so I guess I should be happy I still have a job, but right now, I'm also thinking it was TONS better than what I really wanted to say.

Ok... let me set the scene.  The thing I love most about blogging is that you get to share as much or as little of yourself with your fellow bloggers and visitors as you'd like.  This is a good thing.  So while I've shared some extremely intimate details of my life with my blog friends, (divorce, cross-country move, constant state of arousal) you still know basically nothing about me.

My job... I have to find a way to tell you about my job while telling you nothing at all.  I'm a glorified asskisser.  If my lips aren't planted firmly on the eversagging ass of the government, they're locked around the less fortunate asses of the public.  Either way... I spend my days blowing sunshine.

And now... now the powers that be have decided that I'm so good at my job, they want me to kiss even more ass!  This time, however, it's going to be asses belonging to people who, more than likely, can't speak English.  Guess it's good that kissing ass is a universal language, huh.  Let me ask you...  I'm southern, and I'm fairly educated.  So there are exactly two languages I can speak.... English, when I have to... and the good ole regional hillbilly speak that gets me by around here.  I can read French enough to get me around Paris without peeing on myself, and I can shop in most German stores... long as the prices aren't too high.  That's it.  So... the question is... WHAT would make these morons think I want to lock my lips around an arse if I can't  understand whether or not he's saying he'll respect me in the morning?!

This isn't a slight against non-English speaking countries or people!  This is me showing that I'm intimidated by the idea of being pushed into this position.  "Homeland Security... blah blah blah..."  and a security clearance?!  Whatever!  If I wanted someone crawling up my butt with a microscope, I'd be into those weird, kinky sex clubs.  I'm NOT!

ANYWAY... I have roughly sixty days to decide whether or not I'm willing to do all this, or if I'd rather have "do you want fries with that?" to be part of a new career path.  Sometimes I hate being a grownup.  I really do.

~Gotta jet... I need chapstick~

"She remembers when she first got her wings and how she opened up the day she learned to sing.  Then the colors came, erased the black and white.  And her whole world changed when she realized... she's a butterfly. 

Like the purest light in a darkened world.  So much hope inside... such a lovely girl.  You should see her fly.  It's almost magical.  It makes you wanta cry... she's so beautiful.

She's a butterfly.  Pretty as a crimson sky.  Nothing's ever gonna bring her down.  Everywhere she goes, everybody knows she's so glad to be alive... she's a butterfly.

God bless the buttefly... give her the strength to fly.  Never let her wings touch the ground."

I was out earlier this morning.  We've had thuderstorms for two days now.  I love storms, but I don't love being out on days like today.  It isn't raining right now, but the air is hot and wet and heavy.  The kind of air that makes your clothing stick to you, your lungs feel like they weigh 50lbs., and your hair has no chance of ever holding any sort of form.  Everytime you go out, you want to shower when you're back inside.  Or maybe that's just me.

I have no energy, no drive... I feel wilted.  I need something to occupy my mind for a while.  Something that doesn't require real thought... just feel up the empty spaces.  I really do have empty spaces.  I think about nothing.  I can't focus on anything these days.

I need someone to occupy my body for a while, too, but we won't go there.

I think I'm beginning to be ok with the smalltown life again.  It's hard to deal with the isolation at times.  Everyone wants a huge backyard, neighbors in the distance (keyword: distance), and a mall 20 minutes away.  Sometimes you just can't have the best of all worlds.  Those are the times you have to pick and choose.  I made this choice... so now, just because I have to drive 45 minutes to find a place where it's legal to buy a bottle of wine or even a beer....  oh well.  And the mall?  Closest one to me is the internet.  In the real world, I'd have to drive even further than the liquor stores.  I can't get chinese delivered.  I can only get one type of pizza delievered... and that's only till 11pm.  I can't walk out my door without running in to someone I know and probably don't want to talk with.  I don't have the chaotic pace that makes me feel alive.

But I'm near my grandmother.  She's so fraile now.  She's sick so often.  She fell this weekend and cut her head above her eye.  She won't use her walker... it makes her look "old"... so she says.  She's my hero.  I should be here for her now.  I don't have to be lonely unless I want to because I can walk into any place in town, and I'm guaranteed to run in to someone that I know.  (mixed blessing)  I don't have to go to a city park to have enough room to play, have a picnic, ride a horse, swim...  I can go barefoot and squish my toes in the grass without worrying I'm gonna step on a drug needle or dirty glass.  We have things like The Daniel Boone Festival, The Chicken Festival, The Mountain Laurel Festival... family reunions... town 4th of July picnics, the I Believe in Santa Claus Parade, we have Church Homecomings, and deep river baptisms to stirring renditions of "Shall We Gather at the River".  We have sweet tea, homemade lemonade, and porch swings.

I have a family reunion this weekend.  I think I'm going to take pictures to show here.  Just a tiny peek into my pretty blue world.

~The Simple Life... part one~

"Leading with my heart again.  Yeah, I'm leading with my heart again.  I don't know if I'll lose or win, but I'm leading with my heart again.

Putting my mind on hold.  Yeah, I'm putting my mind on hold.  I could be risking my very soul, but I'm putting my mind on hold.

I'm leaping before before I look.  Yeah, I'm leaping before I look.  It may not be the same chance you took, but I'm leaping before I look.

Walking before I crawl.  Yeah, I'm walking before I crawl.  I might tumble.  I might fall, but I'm walking before I crawl.

So I'm leading with my heart again.   Yeah, I'm leading with my heart again.  I don't know if I'll lose or win, but I'm leading with my heart again."

"C'mon, baby... just one little kiss.

I swear, I'm a prince.

Trust me.

Look at this face, would I lie??

No, I don't have a girlfriend.

I love you.

Of course I'll respect you.

I'm not like other guys.

I'll call you.

Really. 

Please baby, please.