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Ten days without a post. My God my brain's about to pop!
It's the day after Christmas, well into the Kwanzaa season by now I guess and I've got a bunch of catching up to do. I'm actually having a pretty tough time writing tonight. I made a pot of coffee earlier this evening and I've since downed 10 (yep 10) cups in the past couple of hours. Now I'm caught in this disasterous loop of write, backspace, delete, ponder, write, backspace, delete, ponder, write, backspace, delete, ponderwritebackspacedelete. To give you an idea of what I'm going through, the last sentence took 15 minutes. I'm not trying for perfection or anything I'm just trying to get in gear. I just hope (with all of the caffeine) I don't write one long sentence.
The past ten days have been somewhat eventful, Of course there has been the holidays, getting together with the fam, and all of the trauma associated with that(*note to family members, it was good trauma, FUN FUN FUN trauma). For some reason I've been extremely appreciative of everthing. Normally I'm like "oh, a white shirt. oh thanks. just what i needed. no really. i love it." But this year I was doing little happy dances over every gift. HOT DAMN!!! AXE DEODERANT! THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! It could have something to do with my "deadline". My deadline (in a nutshell) is a premonition thing I have. Basically, I meet my mortal end sometimes next year. Not that I'm worried about it, it's just been one of those things in the back of my mind since I was a teenager. My deadline is 39. I'm now 38. I'll turn 39 in February. In reality I'm sure it's bullshit. My dad had a "deadline", his was age 42, he's now 67. I found out a few months ago that my grandmother had a "deadline" too. Her's was age 45. She turned 90 back in November. Besides I went to a psychic five years ago and she said I'd live to see 82. If you can't believe a psychic named Rita, who can you believe? Right? But, if R80o goes several months without a post next year you'll think back to this post and wonder if I'm "cold and blue" or just lazy. No matter how "it" happens, I just hope it's not because of something stupid. When I die I hope it's because I was rescuing a herd of kindergartners from the clutches of a runaway bus and not because a gulp of Listerine went down the wrong pipe or anything like that. I've got this mental picture of a Buddhist monk and Elvis hanging out in front of the Pearly Gates:
Monk: "Self-immolation. I took my life to protest of the wrongs of humanity. You?"
Elvis: "Well, I... I uh.... I... I was on the crapper see, and..."
Monk (starts tearing up from laughter): "hold on.... YOU'VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME! Hey, Saint Thomas come over and get a load of this one! HHHAAAAAHHHAAAHHHHH LOAD!!!! Get it!!! LOAD!!! Now do that lip thing again. Come on, do it again."
What I'm saying here is I'd rather be the monk, definitely not Elvis.
Anyway back to the post, in addition to the holiday joy, my mortality and Elvis on the john. I've grown quite the bubba-esque goatee. First time I've had facial hair in 15 years. Back then I had a hint of a moustache, everybody said I looked like a migrant farm worker. "Got Crud." could've been my slogan. I lost the 'stache at a wedding reception...Imagine if you will, "uh could you pass the scotch, oh and what th' hell, hand me that Schick Triple Blade while you're at it".
I'm lucky my nipples didn't get shaved off.
Now with the goatee, I kinda look like Michael Keaton with an elderly gerbil stapled to his chin.
With the exception of the few gray spots I think I like it, Leslie does.
In other news, the roadwork that has been going on in front of my neighborhood for the past THREE YEARS is finally complete. This may not sound like much to you, but I feel that the Georgia Department of Transportation actually read my letter to Santa. HOT DAMN!!! A TURNING LANE! THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!
12/26/2003 11:32:26 PM
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