Especially For The Elderly

I have a lot of gray hair.  I have since my early 20's.  It's one of those weird things that people are always shocked about when they notice (if I'm slacking on the dying thing).  They always exclaim, "Holy Crap! You have gray hair!".  I know.  It's a genetic thing. Both my Mom and my Grandma were gray before 25.  It is in complete contradiction to my "baby" face.  No one ever believes how old I am.  I got carded to buy Nyquil at the grocery store last week.  Really?  I don't even pass for 18?  That seems a little harsh.  Last spring I got carded to buy clear spray paint.  That's right, CLEAR.  So not only do I look like a young hoodlum, but I am going to leave my invisible gang signs all over the city, causing panic and confusion.   Sigh.  How am I supposed to become the crazy old lady down the street if I'm stuck at 15???  Guess I'll have to live to 403...

But Pleasantly Cold

I am going to let you in on a little secret.  I am a total and complete sucker.  There I said it.  I don't know why I have such a hard time with such a small word. No. N-O.  It only has two letters for crying out loud! I for some reason unknown have the hardest time telling people no.  Even if I do manage to tell someone no,  a little pressure and I crack.  And don't get me started on cute little kids selling things in front of grocery stores.  Even if I only have $5 to my name, I will give it to them.  Someday (hopefully soon)  I will master the art of gracefully declining.  Until then, yes you can have five dollars,  yes I will pick up your dry cleaning, and YES I will wash your car (it is really dirty).

You Can Use Two to Knit a Sweater or a Story

I woke up to my mom vacuuming the other morning.  Long gone are the days when the ol' parental units tip toe around to prolong the peaceful quite parents with little ones only have the luxury of experiencing while their children are sleeping.  I lay still, begging the band marching in my head to give it a rest.  My liver, Billy, is not impressed.  That's right.  A hangover.  Knowing the only thing that's going to help is four ibuprofen and an entire bottle of Ruby Mountain Spring Water, I drag my sorry ass out of bed and head upstairs.  Slowly crawling to the top, I hear (be mindful the vacuum is still running) "Oh, yeah!?!  Take that, bitch!" I see my mom flailing her Dyson around in the air like a sword.  "Get over here, motherfuckas!"  Not sure exactly what is happening, I blurt, "Mom. What the hell are you doing?"  She jumps back startled, then shuts of her vacuum.  "Oh, sis. I didn't see you there."  I smile, "What's goin' on Mom?"  She says, "Not much, just vacuuming up flies."

Haha.  I bet those flies never even saw it coming.  I sure didn't.

Fear of Them Keeps Me Up at Night

Finally, I was able to fall asleep last night.  It had been days.  After two, I am worthless.  People talk to me and I barely hear them.  The days roll by like fog.  I've had insomnia for a few years now.  It's one of those weird things that comes and goes as it pleases.  I think it might be the Universe's way of teaching me empathy for zombies.  That way when the Zombie Apocalypse happens, I will know how zombies think and be able to take my place as the most bad ass zombie hunter in the New World!

There are quite a few things that I am looking forward to when the Zombie Apocalypse happens.  For one, if someone pisses me off while I'm driving, I can just ram them.  And I won't have to wait around to file a police report or worry about if it is going to make my insurance go up.  Sure, I'll miss things like air conditioning and "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia" but I'm sure it will be worth it.

When that big SARS breakout happened a few years back, I was concerned that it was happening before I was mentally prepared.  But then I thought about it for a minute and came to the realization that I didn't have to worry.  The Zombie Apocalypse isn't going to start in China.  Their food is too yummy.  It's going to start someplace that has contributed nothing to the world so far.  So, I'm thinking Canada will be responsible. 

Obviously not sleeping gives me a lot of time to think about these things.  Let's hope, for your sake, that I am able to sleep for the rest of the week...

Polar Bears Use Them as Weapons

Okay.  So I used to have a blog.  I enjoyed it.  It was like a journal, but one that anyone could read.  It was a bit cathartic.  And I wrote more stories and scripts when I was blogging, so I'm starting up again in hopes of finding my motivation to get it in gear.  Writing wise.  This is the beginning.

I guess I should put down a few things to get us started off on the left foot here (which I think could possibly be the "right" foot in a manner of speaking, but is often overlooked).  I am a bit unhinged.  Bat shit crazy it seems.  Well, maybe not that crazy.  It sounds like that could get a little wild.  Especially if it's a fruit bat.  I curse like a sailor and I drink (I was going to say too much here, but I think it's better described for me as just enough.  For you, however, it would be far too much.  Mostly because you don't have a champion's liver (unless you're my brother reading this- This is NOT as challenge!!)). On that note, now that I'm blogging again I should probably have a breathalyzer attached to my computer so that I can avoid drunken mishaps.  They happen.  I do become bloody brilliant when I drink and I often times want to share that brilliance with the world.  I can't have you all running off with my bad ass ideas. 

I think that's a pretty good start.  So I will just say, "Hello, everyone.  And welcome back to my public ramblings."