I really can do anything. Oh I know all our parents said that. Did YOU believe yours? I picture a pet owner standing over the cage cooing at their birds about their pretty wings. And the pet owner lives in a zoo. Like a monkey in a cage with a bird in a cage. I hadn't even considered the claws and beak of it until this last year. It's only self-defense if you squint your eyes and can conceive a world with me in the center but I don't care. It's mine and I won't give it back or sully it with excuses or guilt or apology. I'm the sun. Mommy said so. Right up until sis came along.
I'm tired of people's feigned disinterest in television. If Tom added "bodily functions" to the general interests section, people would write: "My shit don't stink!". Give me a break. Yes most of television is crap. OF COURSE it is. Most of music is crap. Most movies are crap. Most books are even crap. You don't see people swearing they never like ALL crap under those sections. And it always turns out they have exceptions. "Oh well sure I watch that… and that… hey did you see that commercial where.. What do you mean you don't have cable…"
I think about how you never really quit smoking. I think all kinds of things about you. You likely can't imagine. But, that…That's truly bad. That I acknowledge I might be that bad for you and still hope it means you can't give me up. Not for ever. Not without missing me at least. Not without cravings. Can we all take a moment to cheer for life-lived-cancers? No? .
I like music with clapping. And tambourines. And stomping. And chanting. Okay, "like it" might be a gross understatement. It stirs me. *hysterical laughter* I know. I crack my ass up too. … so down home of me. I can't help it. My cave woman is burning hot just under my skin and she likes to get down. She can also be moved to weeping by lots of voices singing at once. Any song as long as the singers mean it. Makes me miss church. I'm in awe of all that belief.
You should know every day I don't lay at your feet is an illusion. I just rolled over here to get out of your way. I would never dream of blocking you from making the right choice. But if it gets where you'd rather be wrong…and need me to say come after me… this is me saying it.
Growing up the first time is learning to consider everyone else. Growing up the next time is re-remembering to consider yourself. If I'm not careful I'm going to get so deep in my second growing up that I have to start over at the beginning and never get to find out what comes next. It might be better than realizing this is it.
A reader/blogger/space friend of mine (hi Mary!) made a new years resolution to count her orgasms. I suggested we do so under our general interests on our profiles. Apparently we're shooting for at least 200 oh!s in 2009. You know, for longer happier healthier lives. (Not because we're dirty dirty perverts with insatiable need for that crack in the universe that opens up for those mere seconds. It should be noted all the oh!s count. And not all of them open that crack, now do they?) Partnered Oh!s are better for you but we're counting solo ohs too. This is to keep me from sobbing in her comments as her count rises ever higher than mine. You can do it too. We're not JUST ocd though. I feel it getting competitive already… which is why I'm mentioning it to all of you. *looks around at the headless crowd before her* I have a feeling you might do it too. *thinks this might be even better than goodreads was before I forgot my password and lost my care for it* Honor system people. You're only cheating yourself.
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