I have always been a pain in the ass.
Just ask my Mom. Song 150.
My Mom loves to tell a story about the time she picked me up from a ballet class that for whatever reason I threw a tantrum about. She put me in my car seat and drove me home all the while gently giving me a lecture about how lucky I was to be able to go dance class and how you have to sometimes do things you don’t want to do and how it’s my job to be nice.
But then she pulled into the driveway and realized I had been asleep the entire time.
She also loves to talk about how when I was little and we would get into a fight I would stomp off to my room and slam the door before she even got the chance to send me there. In fact, I was almost never grounded, because well, it just didn’t work. Don’t worry though. They came up with a host of other ways. Sneaky goddamned parents.
More than one person asked me if I accidentally erased my post from yesterday. Which made me laugh out loud.
Nope. I just didn’t have any words. So, I went to my room. And I slammed the fucking door.
If you mediate on the people who effect your life for a bit you’ll dig all kinds of stuff up. The least of which is how accustomed you grow to their influence. So much so, that when earlier today I realized how much I miss a certain Gemini, I couldn’t resist the urge to say Hi. Thank God for the Robots!
“Recently I was getting creeped out by coincidences. But then I remembered that this has been happening for awhile now and that it didn’t used to seem scary. And then I remembered why it used to be so easy. Miss you and that Mystical Swagger babe. ♥ I think about you and the ocean every single day.”
When, on a road trip recently, to the West, which lead to the South, I’m proud to say that two Two Northern girls never forgot the other direction. And I have the video to prove it.
“Nature meets industry.”
Unfortunately, no matter what kind of olive branch I extended, I just couldn’t figure out how to edit it, let alone turn it right side up. Fucking robots!
On said road trip, whilst in Houston, dead on a couch, I awoke to a manic banging on the door. So I sprung into action, hiding everything. But it turned out to just be a strange friend of a strange friend with a bag of tacos. Of course. The first words out of his mouth, to my shaken surprise, were not only said in a Southern accent but came with another inflection all of it’s own.
“Do you eat meat?”
How on earth did I forget about the Taco Fairy?
My punishment for said offense? Well, we’ve already learned that grounding me is pointless. So instead, I shall just go ahead and thank you. On a day I can’t escape if I tried. At Big Star of course, with Tacos de Panza, et al.