You don't have to.

Before I lose you, watch this.
This has the potential to inspire me out of bed in the morning
for fiftybillionyears.

So I'm home from work. I would tell you how many hours that lasted-- but I keep doing that to people these days and it's really not the point.
My countrygirl feet are shinin clean.
I scrubbed and scrubbed.
Then came the cocoa butter for my heels.
Some people think this mess smells great.
It doesn't.
Though somehow... I am now slathered head to toe.
Cocoa butter: not appealing. still compelling. how?
Some humans are also this way.

Are you listening to me?
I never shut up.
Never
shut
ever
never shut
up.

I am always debating-- should my blog be for only my-favorite-ultra-revised-words?
Or is there value in daily rambling?

This post is an experiment, a favor to the ramblers.

(Before reading on, please but on your hillbilly voice and repeat the above sentence.)

This pose isin exspearahmint, a fayvor to thuh rAMMblurs.

Thankyou.

"There is always one boy.
I see him and get stuck.
YOU ARE MY PLAN OF ACTION.
I will pursue this course ...until I am blown off."
--Brooklyn

Friday, June 26th, 2009
Today I watched this movie trailer on Siovhan’s blog and cried.
I am so emotional.

...That was the Understatement of the century.

I SO know what its like to wait.
And wait
On a boy.
If you are reading this thinking “OMG she’s talking about me!”
Guess what—you’re wrong!
I’m talking about all of you.
Yes, multiple.
Maybe ya’ll could exchange addresses and start a little weekly dinner group.

Ahh. Do you see that up there? Sometimes these feisty and maybe, also… bitter… paragraphs just shoot out my mouth. They stand there big and winded, taking deep breaths with defiant looks on their blonde/brunette/red-headed faces.
“WE'RE HERE,” they say.
“Tell our story.”

Sometimes I say
“No thanks.”
“I’d really rather write about sunflowers and my feet.”
Then, they go away.
Relief.