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Pish, Posh, I hate myself

I recently had a birthday. This is the first birthday that actually depressed me. 30 years old. Don’t be insulted if you are older. Age is completely relative to the speaker, and I am the speaker. I have this passion in my belly to be something, someone. I don’t really think I’ve ever just sat and reflected on what I want to be. It’s not too late, but as always there is a beached whale sitting on my chest. Her name is Bernice, and she smells. And she should, she’s been with me forever. Excuses, excuses, excuses.

So, what do I do? How do I positively contribute to society? First, I suppose I have to kill Bernice and use her blubber for candles. I’ve never been a candle fan, so I’ll send them to you. Just pick a scent.

This is the 1st image to appear under “Beached whale on human”. Pretty sexy, right?

Maybe that’s what I’ll do! I’ll make candles and sell them through this blog site.

That makes me think of how wrong I am right now. In high school I wanted to be a potter. Then I went to a major university and saw the list of required math courses and I thought there was no way that I could succeed. That’s been my problem all along. Doubt, but really just thinking. Doubt wouldn’t exist without thinking. Oh, I’m rambling.

Then for a brief period of time I wanted to be a librarian. The idea of being around books all day was so romantic to me. What happened there? Oh yeah, it required work. Pish, posh, I’m good . . .were my thoughts. What a loser.

My forgiveness I implore! I am beating myself up tonight. I guess in some weird way it feels good to be incomplete. ..  there’s nothing like a fresh, homemade loaf of self-hatred!

Earnestly Scared Stupid

When I was a little girl (about 8 years old) I saw Ernest Scared Stupid for the first time. I think it is without a doubt, the best Halloween movie in the entire galaxy (now that’s a hyperbole!). My favorite scene stars Ernest trying to figure out what it is that destroys the troll. He comes to the conclusion that meack (me-ack) is the answer to end the terror of the booger-faced monster. Of course, it’s not meack but milk. The ugly thing was just allergic to dairy products. It’s just such a silly and fun movie.

Ernest TrollI was so afraid of this movie that I had a real difficult time going outside and when I did, I carried my brother’s baseball bat. I was terrified to walk down the driveway to get the mail because I was sure that huge troll had crammed himself into our standard-sized mailbox, and he was going to turn me into a wooden statue when I opened the door. This was a time when we lived in the private community in east Texas, so the driveway was not that long.

What a dork!

Beetlejuice was pretty awesome too, but way more scary to me back then. I hear it now, “Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beeltejuice!” I used to imagine him in the curtains of our bedroom while everyone else was sleeping. It was awful (and wonderful) to have such a strong imagination.

Dad and a New Bass Boat

So, my dad thinks it’s time for a new bass boat. It’s rather exciting to see him giddy like a little boy, which only happens once in a blue moon. He’s a stoic man of 65 years of age. All of us refer to him as Clint Eastwood (he really looks like him too), especially after seeing Grand Torino. He gives great advice, but sometimes doesn’t apply such wisdom to his own life.

When I was 15 or so, he bought a motorcycle, then he got sick of it after 6 months, and I don’t think he’s cranked it since then.  Shortly after the motorcycle purchase, he bought a sports car. It’s a BMW M-series (not sure if those are made anymore) that he had custom designed. It’s a beauty, but he only drives it about 3 times a year. I guess the only thing that really matters is if it makes him smile. That’s pretty important.

So, now we move on to a new or used bass boat. I’m hoping he’s practical this time. I have directed him towards several online sites with the type of bass boat he wants, with  hopes that he will go with a used one, which will still be like ‘new’ to him.  I think we’re both quite fond of this boat. He loves red and this baby is a Stratos. From the reviews I’ve read online, it sounds like a great deal.

Watching the men in my life brings me to the conclusion that they are all very silly when it comes to man toys- Whether it be my dad and his shiny, fast vehicles or my brothers and their sleek, black rifles and handguns, or my friends and their iPads and iPhones.  Nonetheless,  they all make me smile and create the urge to roll my eyes.  I guess my cars and guns are jewelry and books.

Twins, Twins

I just thought I would post a silly memory I have from college. We were 19 or so and it was our first year in a four year college. We had nearly the same schedule, as both of us had no clue what we wanted to do with our lives. So, we have this Spanish presentation and our professor is an Chilean nut. Seriously, the funniest professor I will ever know or have- He spent an entire class lecturing about Spanish curse words. I really loved this man.

Anyways, back to the subject. I quickly rushed through my presentation in Spanish about Freida Kahlo, and made it very interesting, as her life was. Then it was Miss Ellie’s turn, but what our professor didn’t realize is that we had switched seats and cardigans. I walked up there with a large grin on my face and gave her presentation. It was a very humorous class.  Oh, yes, all our classmates noticed, and they told him after class. It was just a touch of jealously. Ever since we had received the highest grade in the class for our kickass video project, they had it out for us (or at least three did).  Dr. Salvo loved us so much that he didn’t care. He thought it was awesome.  I think he’s living in one of East Texas’ private communities.

It was awesome having a twin in college. I had a geology class that nearly put me to sleep, so Ellie and I switched (nearly everyday). I took her Art History course, and I made a  pretty good grade.  I know, that’s wrong, but please don’t be bitter. Not everyone is as lucky as we are. We were just dealt a pair of queens. I guess we weren’t really dealt that hand, my parents were. . . so sorry Mom and Dad.

Have a good one.

Got a Twin? Me too (Part II)

I do have an identical twin. Ellie is considered to be one minute older, though that is altogether debatable since we were born in the early 80’s and my mom had a c-section. She was slightly over 5 pounds, while I was under 5pds.  My mom likes to reminisce about our tiny, but long fingers. I think we were deemed a miracle because Mom and Dad had 3 sons.

My mom told me a few years ago that my sister, Ellie and I took care of one another.  I think us taking care of one another somewhat hurt my mom’s feelings.  It, of course, was never intentional. Hell, I didn’t even know we were doing it.  So, if you are having twins or are a young twin beware of some sort of maternal neglect. I never had to worry about that with my Clint Eastwood father. He really is like the old gunslinger. That’s another place and time though.

Ellie and I are best friends, but a lot of resentment is born when we don’t see one another. I haven’t spoken to her in a week, and it basically sucks. I do notice that when I go to her house, she really takes care of me. “Would you like something to drink or eat?” We both love it when she cooks me dinner. I know, I know, I’m silly.

When I moved out of our parents’ house the final time (total of 2xs), it took 2 years for us to have a civil relationship. She recently told me that she was having separation anxiety, and that it was common in twins.  She got kind of scary depressed there for some time, but then again, I guess we both did.

I should refleTwin Girlsct on good/funny memories. Once when we were about 4, my mom took us to get our ears pierced. We knew something was wrong about 2 minutes into the drive because she was not driving in the direction of our preschool. She took us to the doctor’s office to have our ears stabbed. No wonder we were scared to death!  The doctor came in and we began to embarrass the hell out of my mom by saying to each other, “You go first. NO! You go first!”  We both walked out of that office earring-less.  Ha, sorry Mom, Game Over, You Lose!

It’s awesome being a twin. Though we’re definitely not as close, I can still read her thoughts, and feel what she feels.  I do believe we share a soul and clothes. I’m waiting on her to get sick of her new clothes. She wears them once or twice and their mine. I never had to buy clothes in high school.

Naturally, we have our competitive elements to us. She thinks I’m smarter and that I’m always right about everything. I told her the last time she said that that she was right.  Have to let her be right at some point, right?  I think she’s beautiful (she knows it) and flirts with significant others on purpose.  The funny thing is that neither one us work on fixing these insecurities. I’m not fashionable or socially presentable (most days), and she doesn’t read (of course she can-she has a psychology degree)

A large influence in my life with regards to Ellie is my thoughts. Or maybe the diction of my thoughts.  I say or think, “we,” “let’s,” and “us” A LOT!  I guess some things will stay with you forever. Thank God.

Jeepers, You’re Giving me the Creepers

I must say sometimesNosy Nellie my friend Jane has some unfortunate luck, well as far as home renting/living. I  vividly remember laughing with her in her kitchen as we waited for the police to arrive. Her mailbox had been assaulted  . . . once again. This was in her rental home, and the assaults happened twice within the last two months. I’d definitely say she was targeted, since none of the 20+ neighbors ended up with a demolished mailbox.

Jane’s an odd character, kind of like the youthful, elderly neighborhood spy, peeking out the window and making very wild assumptions and accusations. I like her.

She believes her neighbor is having an affair or has a drug addiction, as he owns the commercial property next door, and is in and out of the office at all hours of the early night (9ish-lol).

Now that she has her own home, she’s been peeking and creeping to see who’s littering in her front yard.  She owns some Asheville NC real estate on a main street.  I told her she’s wasting her time, but she’s so paranoid. She goes as far as leaving her large jewelry box, full of sterling silver jewelry, and a beautiful Hope chest at her parents’ house because she thinks someone will see her bringing it into the house and then . . .

Yeah, it’s tiring. Poor Jane. I actually suspect she likes all this early morning, late night watching. My only concern is that she’s wasting her time worrying. Wasted time just means wasted life.  Maybe I’ll win the lottery and install a large fence and security system in her house.  I suppose some people just have to live life like that .  . .

Bald Mermaids?

Bald MermaidLet’s say mermaids are real.  How do they grow hair under water? Wouldn’t the scalp become super wrinkled?  Just makes me wonder how hair could grow out of a pruny scalp and maintain that hair. Wouldn’t it be brittle because of water erosion?

Okay, I just found some evidence that mammals can grow water while living in water. Apparently, dolphins have a ‘do’ of their own, a tiny ‘do’.

Why do I care? If mermaids don’t have hair, then The Little Mermaid is forever changed in my mind.

I don’t get it

Recently, I was on the hunt for a new silver jewelry necklace. I looked online and at stores, and I noticed a common, stupid trend. Yeah, these places advertised their jewelry with images of celebrities sporting similar products. Come on!  I am 100% sure that my fashion is not any in way influenced by celebrities. You know how I know this? I’m still wearing the same clothes and shoes that I’ve been wearing since five years ago.

Okay, that statement was truthful. Today, I am wearing older clothes.  I don’t watch enough tv or ever read magazines, so is my style mended by the fake personality of a celebrity? I suppose it’s the fashion designers and then the sticks that wear their lines. Am I having an identity crisis? No, I was just thinking about individuality, and I didn’t see any when I was shopping. It was annoying that these shops were marketing to  . . .hmm. I’ll save that thought for later.

I mean, who the hell cares what those camera junkies are wearing?

Mountain Life

North Carolina MountainsI’m visiting my aunt Sarah, this weekend. I’m excited because she lives in the hills of western North Carolina. She has a beautiful log cabin with the nearest neighbor miles away. How nice that would be?!  That’s what I want when I’m old. I can’t imagine living in the city for the rest of my life. That would be one of my biggest regrets.

Sarah has a pond behind her cabin with a nice little dock. She also has a garden with vegetables and fruits.  The last time I spoke to her, she was excitedly anticipating blueberries. I’m sure they’re plumb by now. Blueberry picking is fun. Her dalmatian, Dally, even helps.

Ah, the fresh smell of pine. It gets kind of cool in her house. I like visiting in the dead of winter.  She has a nice fireplace, but ironically her home is heated by propane gas. I guess as she has gotten older, she’s too tired to split her own wood. Gas is convenient because it’s delivered the same day she orders it, but it doesn’t give off that wonderful smell.  What’s more ironic is Sarah used to be a naturalist. She interviewed at Balsam Mountain Preserve when they first opened some ten years ago, but she didn’t want to move.

So, we’re going to the Saturday Umbrella Market located in Pritchard Park in Asheville. I love markets, and yard sales. I’m looking for vintage chairs. I sand them down, stain them and add new upholstery.  I have renovated two since last year. I’m working on  a  dining room table set of mix-matched chairs. Cool, right?  If I don’t have luck there, I’ll just shop for sterling silver jewelry! Either way, Sarah and I are going to have a blast.

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