My cab driver said the most shallow thing I’ve ever heard. She said, “If I could ask God for anything, I’d ask him for a big butt.” ….. cue the crickets…….. I gave no reply. I mean really, what do you say to that? Screw world peace, forget curing cancer, feeding the hungry, releasing the oppressed, give me a bubble butt! Child please, I’m not on enough medication for crap like this.
I will have my guest here Wednesday. It hit me that I’m a bit shy about my humble home. I told Dr. D today that I struggled with having someone come that might expect more. I’m not poor, I’m destitute. I’ve heard about this poverty line but I think, like Big Foot, it’s an urban legend. Has anyone ever seen it? As a child, the mother’s income saw us way above it. Despite bouts of homelessness she kept her position, strange, but she did. I almost detest money until I need it. I told Dr. D that my needs are primarily emotional and spiritual. I have very little use for …things….
This individual will come here and meet me with no pretenses, no complications, just me and the walls that hold the things that make me tick. Eventually I returned to my center and stopped the whole garbage about my home being too humble. Jordan will handle the artist that’s visiting us.
Dr. D asked if I still feel suicidal. I said yes. He asked if I am going to act on it. I said no but I’m surprised at the length of time these thoughts have lingered.
Car accident number two in one week. Lesson learned: never ride with someone while they’re very, very manic. I actually screamed out, “Oh no, Jehovah, this is going to hurt!” She started laughing. It did hurt and still does. Can I get in a car and not slam into something? When she’s not driving recklessly we have a total blast. I really enjoy her company.
We talk several times a week but it’s been a bit since we had a girl’s night of pizza and giggling. This pizza-giggle started at 10 pm and lasted until 4 am. There is no television here, no radio here, just two girls talking, talking and talking some more. I really had a good time. Every time I see her she cracks a joke about my breasts. I’m like look woman, I know I have excessive mammaries. If ya keep bothering me I’m going to take a sharp left turn and boob slap you, then use them like nunchucks and …knock… you.. out!! ……….I could use some pizza right now. I laughed off the breast joke situation but in all truthfulness, I’m rather sensitive / embarrassed by the size of my chest. I do everything I can to cover them up.
I have a small commission art piece. I’ll be working with feathers collected from her two African Grey Parrots who have their own bedroom. The room is set up as theirs. I think that’s awesome. They sleep in their cage at night but they have a room of their own. I think that’s cool. I do not believe in putting a bird in a cage but if one needs to be rescued it’s this woman who should do it. Her knowledge and work with these beauties is amazing. I’ve never met them. I’m scared to death of animals that talk. I don’t even like dogs that say I love you let alone a bird that flies over and asks me if I want something to drink. Yeah, make it a double. I don’t like animals that talk.
Jane goes to get her teeth managed tomorrow morning and not a minute too soon. She’s been such a brat, clinging, hissing at me, flicking her tail, flattening her ears. It’ll get better very soon.