My lack of blogs lately is bound to be disappointing to you avid and loyal readers, but rest assured that I have not gone lame. Promise. It's just that recently I've been having trouble thinking of subjects to write about. I mean, a few things have happened that are note-worthy, I just don't think I could make a full story out of them. I've really been trying for a few days to come up with something I care to elaborate on enough for a blog; I've decided that my brain is stuck. Maybe it's that dag-blasted writer's block?
So, let's see....what can I tell you?
The other day Chris, Damion and I planted a crap load of stuff. I've got a wildflower bed, and sunflower bed, a small veggie garden, and a bunch of pots with pretty things planted in them. It's very nice. I love flowers...I'm not real good at keeping them alive though, I'm not even gonna lie. But I'm gonna give it the old college try again this year! Oh...gotta throw something funny in here ---> while we were digging one of thirty-something holes to drop sunflower seeds in, Damion grabbed a vine and pulled it off the tree, held it up and goes..."Hey Dad, is this poison oak?!" Something about that string of events seemed a little off to me....the boy is something else, he's normally good for a laugh or two per day.
Earlier today one of my fellow coworkers walked by my desk and mentioned something about "stuck-up old ladies." I immediately drifted back a year or so to last spring when me and Casey Chadwell were chillin' at the Dam Site Inn in Hell, Michigan...eating some food that was hot as...well, hell. There were like, 10 little old ladies in purple hats in there eating and gossiping and drinking beers, being just as awesome as 10 little old ladies wearing purple hats in Hell could possibly be. I got tickled, remembering that Casey had said to me..."Who knew there'd be so many old people in Hell?" It was just too much. Shortly after that one of the old men that was driving one of three car-loads of purple hatted old ladies said to us in the parking lot..."I'm not sure why I drove so fast to get here...gonna end up here eventually anyhow." Clever, was he. Then I snapped out of it and realized that what my coworker had actually said was.. "stock up on groceries"...ha, maybe I am going lame. But that reminds me...
I'm broke as hell. It's never-ending. But I keep hoping that maybe, just maybe, one of these checks will include some money that I can blow on stuff that's cool instead of bills and gas. Y'all cross your fingers now, mama needs a new pair of shoes! Ha.
Two Fridays ago, Jdale and I went to Firefresh BBQ for dinner with my parental units. Afterwards we ran over to Lowe's to get some pipe to fix their water leak. Riding through the parking lot, Jdale says to me..."God, I've got to poop. I'm going to have to poop in Lowe's." We all walk in the door at Lowe's laughing at the power walk stride that she's commenced, then go our separate ways: mom and randy to the plumbing isle, me to the flowers, Jdale, of course to the shitter. About 10 minutes later she comes walking back to me, with a look of shame on her face that I'd never before seen...she's not one to embarrass easily, mind you. I can't help but laugh obnoxiously as she tells me the horror story of the "big quiet bathroom that echoed badly" and how she'd had to lift her feet up so that the other women in there would not "recognize her boots" after she left the bathroom. I'm not sure now why I felt the need to include that in this blog...but whatever, there's nothing quite as comical as a good poop story. Especially one that completely embarrassed my "coarse" soul sister.
So, whilst crazy does still always radiate toward me, I've had no big cool stories as of late. I decided a couple of days ago to Google "creative writing ideas"...interesting to say the least. I think I had a direct reply to each idea, but not sparks of inspiration at all.
#242: Come up with 10 reasons why it would be okay to skip bathing for a week. (For real, uh...there's no reason at all? Can people really come up with 10 reasons?)
#276: Come up with a poem inspired by "Death was last seen in a auction room looking worried". (I don't even know what the hell that means, but it totally creeps me out.)
#305: List 20 rules you've broken. (As if I'd tell on myself...insanity.)
They all kind of started to run together after a while. I swear though, one of them that I can't find now to get the number, said to write a short story form the point of view of a table corner. (which table corner, exactly? the one that nearly impaled my thigh, almost took my life, caused me to scream and jump and flail like an idiot last week? The one that caused me a big stupid gnarly ass bruise? I can think of a lot of things I'd like to do with that table corner, but write about it's POV isn't one of them!)
Anyhow, I just thought that I should stop in and let you people know that I haven't given up, I'm still trying. With any luck, something super crazy cool will happen this weekend and I'll fill you in next week. Stay tuned, people...and by all means, someone remind me of a cool story, or give me an idea of some sort? Put me out of my misery!
But really, did I just a write a blog about writer's block? Ha, I'm an oxymoron. :)
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