Okay, maybe not so fine but wild and sassy, definitely.

When I woke up this morning I felt ... let's say ... mischievious.  Before I knew it, I was at the hair dresser, getting my hair colored -- my original color but with red highlights.  Does it look good?  I dunno ... but I LOVE IT!  It's not like fire engine red ... just redheaded red and not all that noticeable.  Well, in the sun it is more noticeable.  Maybe I should, but I don't care what anyone thinks!  I LOVE IT! 

I've always wanted to be a get the hell out of my way, don't even start with me, you will NOT win, yeah, I'm fine redhead -- now I'm at least streaked that way.  =^D

I couldn't get a real good picture of it but here it is.

I'm not really late but as busy as I am, I feel like the White Rabbit from Alice in Wonderland -- running here, running there.  There's just so much to do.  I swear I have more white hairs (no pun intended but it words) today than when the plan for this trip started.

Please excuse my absence ... I know y'all understand.  My coginitive skills when it comes to this kind of thing really are lacking since my last MS relapse.  It's frustrating.  Even lists don't help because I lose the list or leave it home.  So, it's probably easy to see why I'm driving myself insane.

Have a great day, y'all. <3

Sunday fun with free association ... "I say ..., you think ..."

"Rules are, there are no rules." There are no right or wrong answers. Don't limit yourself to one word responses; just say any and every crazy thing that pops into your head.

1. Silence :: is golden -- so shut the hell up
2. Wall :: Humpty Dumpty sat on a ....
3. Killed :: He left the cap off the toothpaste, left his drawers on the floor, he left this here and that there but I couldn't get him to just leave ... and that's when I killed him, Your Honor.
4. Wishful :: thinking ... as in, "Balls said the Queen, if I had them I'd be king."
5. Poodle :: clowns make them out of ballons
6. Sullen :: me, every time I have to put the cap back on the toothpaste or pick up his dirty drawers off the floor.
7. Do not disturb :: Enter at your own risk, You don't have to go home, you just can't stay here, Silence! (see #1), Trespassers will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law, I'm PMS'ing and I have a gun -- any questions?
8. Philadephia :: Freedom, Liberty Bell, where my jerk ex-boyfriend who left me for my jerk ex-best friend lives.
9. Anticipation :: great song used for a stupid commercial - Heinz Ketchup
10. Sidewalk :: where his carcass is going to end up if he doesn't start putting the cap on the toothpaste and picking up his dirty drawers.

As always, you can mutter there or you can mutter right here in my comments.  Muttering can set you free ... on in my case this week, get you jailed.  *snicker*  Have fun, y'all!

Every time I log in to my admin page I see it screaming at me.  "DRAFT"  I promised myself I wasn't going to hide any longer.  I saved this as a draft because I was embarrassed.  Not by the sentiment but by my hokey writing style.  Regardless, it's from the heart, inspired by and written for a friend.  Why I'm so reluctant to display my affection in this form, I'll never know.  It's a certain level of shyness which I'm sure most people don't believe I have a speck of.  I'm trying to get over it ... so here goes.

Deeds, this one's for you, babe --

When you dance, you inspire me to dance.

When life is harsh and the cacophony of the world is so loud that I can't hear the dulcet tones of my own music, I often dance to the rhythm of yours, for your song is sweet and infectious.

I watch and mirror the flow of your dance, until I can dance on my own.  When I misstep, you pretend not to see.  You take my hands, help me up and help me to find my rhythm again.

I'm always telling you how profound and lovely your words are.  But have I told you how lovely you are and how profound your heart is?  I only know one way to say it ...

I love you, friend.

For teaching me to dance on days when I can't even find the desire to crawl, I thank you.

One of the first lessons my mother taught me ... "Never invite trouble into your life." 

Day before yesterday, I heard from a friend I haven't heard from in quite a while ... it's been at least six months or so.  I talked with said friend on the phone for a while in a "Let's do coffee" sort of way.  Today I received a text from my long lost friend ...

TXT:  coffee

MY TXT:  where?

TXT:  starbucks manhattan

MY TXT:  i'm there

I thought that I had missed my friend very much and even fretted a little about not hearing from them.  We "did" coffee.  No big deal.  They shared with me what was going on in their life.  Drama, drama, drama.  It made me realize that there was plenty stress that came with the friendship.  We parted ... no future plans.  "It was nice.  See ya."

I sometimes forget that people often have a hidden agenda ... or a not so hidden agenda.  I received another text this evening from said friend.

TXT:  pain pills

I didn't respond.  Responding would have been inviting trouble into my life.  I've had enough trouble to last me a lifetime.  I guess I'll find out if my friend will punish me for not giving up my pain killers.  People have a tendency to kick you to the curb when you've out-lived your usefulness.  God knows it wouldn't be the first time.  How very sad.

It's close enough now to my departure date to go home (to California) that I can start planning, packing, etc. 

I'm not great at preparing for trips. This is evidenced by the fact that when I evacuated for Hurricane Katrina I took a couple pair of panties and perfume.  Great packing right?  Yeah, for a hooker!  Well ... never mind.  Anyway, truly, I thought we were only going to be gone for three days.  I didn't know I was packing for months.  This time I don't have the pressure of a category 5 hurricane on my heels and I know I"m going to be gone for a month.

I don't know if it's the MS or nervousness, but I can't seem to pull myself together and think straight so I'm going to start a little list here and see how this goes.

First on the itinerary:

4/11 
Storage to get suitcase
dry cleaners

4/12
Haircut (just a trim) 11:15AM

I think I might be a slow starter on this ... my mind just went blank.  I'm going to keep updating this post as I go.  Gotta run.

If I don't get by your place to say Happy Friday, I'm saying it now, have a great Friday, y'all!

XOXOXO

p.s. -- those butterflies in my stomach just morphed into eagles.

*EDIT*

Okay, it's 5:07.  Did I go to storage to get my suitcase?  No.  Did I go to the dry cleaners?  No.  Did I get anything done?  Actually yes, I sent off my tax forms to for my "STIMULUS PAYMENT".  It was much easier than I thought it was going to be.  I also bought three pairs of shoes.  Since Katrina, I largely have flip-flops and tennis shoes.  Today I bought two beautiful pair of casual shoes - one pair black, one pair brown, and a pair of slip-on tennis shoes, my favorites!

Then I stopped at B&N and bought two DVDs that were on sale -- "The Lake House" and a Jane Austen set with Sense and Sensibility and Persuasion.

I was going to go to storage after B&N but I was just too wiped out.  Maybe tomorrow after my hair cut.  Wait, let me rephrase that ... my hair TRIM.  I think anything I need to buy can wait until Sunday.  There'll be less traffic and less people out and about.

Gotta nap now.  I'm so tired.  Shopping wiped me out!

Zzzz Zzzzzz

My family suffered many years behind my active addiction.  For the last seventeen years, since I've been clean, I've really tried to walk the walk of a responsible adult.  I've been good.  No drugs, no alcohol, no whoring, no stealing, no lying and recently, with those I trust, no more hiding.

I spoke with my oldest brother today and told him something about myself that I thought would disappoint him.  Something that I've only told two other people -- one is my sister and the other a very loving and devoted friend.  I thought they would be disappointed in me as well.  I was stunned that not one of them expressed any disappointment or disapproval.

My oldest brother truly surprised me.  When I told him I needed to talk to him about something important I heard him gasp.  I quickly told him, almost without taking a breath.  Don't worry. It's not bad.  I'm not using, drinking, going to jail or anything like that. 

It wasn't a short story.  He listened quietly even though he knew almost from the start where my story was leading.  When I was done, he said -- "I love you and nothing you could do would disappoint me.  I might be hurt if you were in a bad way, because I love you, but I wouldn't be disappointed.  This is fine."

It's  been a hard three and a half years.  I've kept so much from my family.  I couldn't go home, face them and know I was hiding something from them.  The funny thing is that basically all they cared about was whether or not I was okay, when I would be getting there and how long I'd be staying.

Though I had to walk through hell to find out, I've never been more sure of anything in my entire life than this ...

I am loved unconditionally.

I wish I could share this feeling with everyone.  It's powerful.

It's hump day ... and you know what that means!  That's right, kiddies!  The Humpty Dance is your chance to do the hump!  DO it, ba-by!

the Humpty Pup!

In my house, the battle of the twisty tie vs plastic clip method of closure is fought daily.

Who ever invented these is on the top of my "Grrrr List" today! 

They're supposed to make it handy and easy to close a bread bag, right?  Do they work?  Ummm .... NO!  At least my inept little fingers can never, ever put one of these back on the bread bag without breaking it.  Either that or it goes flying somewhere that only a contortionist could retrieve it.  Then I have to hunt down a twisty to close the bag because Mr. Man would give me that "You're too stupid to attach a bread bag clip" look.  And, by the way, by the time the bag of bread is empty, the twisty is so worn, it's poking me in the finger or hand everytime I reach in the bread box for something else.  If I closed the bag according to my preference, I would either (a) twirl the bag real good until the bag is securely closed, tuck the excess under the bread bag and put it in the bread box OR (b) tie the excess loosely so that it's closed but not impossible to open again.  Is that so bad?  Apparently, yes. 

So I bought these cool little "chip clips" that are oh so very handy to take off and put on.  Now, whoever thought of that was brilliant.  Why?  Because it's an old idea given a new twist.  It's a clothes pin!  What a genius with, I bet, a comfortable little chunk in his/her bank.  I remember hanging clothes on the clothes line and when those babies broke, you didn't throw them away.  Noooooo!  You put them back together.  Most chip clips are made just that way.

And while I'm ranting about stupid manufacturing ideas, who the hell designed a stick of deordorant so that when you get down to the end, a good useable size chunk falls on the floor and there's no way to cram it back into the holder and it wouldn't matter anyway because it now has dust bunnies or hair on it.  Ewwww!  And who the heck thought of the sharp edges on the holder, or that little pokey thing in the middle that feels like a cat scratch on your eyeball?  Who, huh? Huh?  HUH?

I must say a hundred times a week ... that's how they get ya .. that's how they get your money.  It's little stuff like that ... that's the stuff that make me go "grrrrr".

Okay, I'm over it now.

I haven't seen my family since before Katrina.  The last time I was home was to bring my mother's ashes home with me.  That was three and a half years ago.  Today I started the ball rolling.  I'm going home and will be staying a full month. 

When I called my sister to consult her about viable dates, we both cried.  Tomorrow I'll be calling my oldest brother -- I'm sure there will be more tears -- certainly on my end.  No, my jackass brother won't be informed -- it's best for everyone.  Together, he and I are toxic.  No matter how forgiving and open I try to be, in his perpetual drunken state, he's hateful towards me.  It is what it is and I can accept that.

I'm sitting here staring at the cursor blinking and wondering what more I can say.  What I feel inside I have no words for.  All I can think of is ...

I'm going home.