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Showing posts from May, 2016

NTGOAP: It's not me; It's you.

• Sometimes, I have a tiny breakdown that results in a tiny tantrum of a Tuesday afternoon while shopping for a new swimsuit on account of the Self-Loathing.

• I just hate that about myself.

• I don't know why I am this way but I don't take it to the God of heaven and earth who created me because I fear what He'll need to do to sort me out properly.

• Because I remember that time I prayed for patience.

• I know I'm not the only one with this tragic flaw that basically amounts to vanity and that's the only reason why I mention it.

• If you are the sort who is awesomely confident and cool with all the Thises and the Thats when confronted with a fitting room mirror, then I'm not really talking to you.

• This is for the rest of us Crazies who can't stop lying to ourselves about the reality of the situation at hand.

• If you are one of those kinda Crazies and admitted your problem to me, I'd give you excellent advice.

• That I would most certainly not apply …

The sweetness and the sorrow.

I don't even know why I keep doing it but I do.

I water and prune these unfortunate roses planted here in the most unfortunate of small spaces between my front porch and my front walk. 
Don't get me wrong. I love a rose and, time was, gently nurtured many in my beds, temperamental as they were. Rosebuds are innocent and lovely but these grew into a wily species with ugly thorns that grip as you try and go your way. They seem to want to spread directly over the walkway so as to impede any progress at all. I can't help but wonder what was the purpose of planting them here because, truly, these are the stuff of a medieval fairy tale.
Giving me further reason to question the prudence of my predecessor are the azalea bushes that come after my roses. Don't hear what I'm not saying, an azalea bush is a welcome sight to behold, blossoming brilliant and colorful. They give me hope again after a long, dreary winter. 
For about two weeks.
Meanwhile, the trouble with these is…

NTGOAP: Mother's Mothers' Mothers

• Let's just go ahead and admit it: Mother's Day, Mothers' Day, Mothers Day, or whatever, is just a dumb holiday.

• I mean, if you have a great mom and you know it, does one day a year truly suffice to tell her so?

• If you are a great mom or even just have the delusion of being one, is one day all you need to have it said?

• Because I'm not too proud to say that I need it said every day.

•  l lied.

• I'm way too proud.

• Not because I think I'm that fantastic of a mother but because there's a smack of insincerity when it's dictated that "today is the day so I'm obligated to say that I appreciate my mom and all the ways she pours into me from then until now".

• And forever more.

• If you're the kind of moms that deserves a day of appreciation, it likely goes against every fiber in your being to accept it.

• Because that's not exactly what you're in it for.

• Let's say you've been a great mom to someone else's kid.


NTGOAP: Fireproof

• We made our yearly trip to the accountant today with a shoebox full of receipts.• Disparate and desperate peices of paper. • Gracious Accountant assured us that he didn't mind people like us but I think he was just being grown up. • I don't know why anyone ever trusts us with grown up stuff. • At some point, we decided curtains were the way to be grown up. • So, now we have curtains.• On most windows.• But, they do drag the floors on account of not being hung properly. • And, don't tell my carpenter but I accidentally burned my beautiful, new wooden counter tops within weeks of him so lovingly constructing and meticulously sanding them. • That happened when I put some coconut oil in my iron skillet but forgot about it.• And, then I moved it to the counter so as not to start a fire. • And, that's probably on account of me cutting myself while playing chef elsewhere in the kitchen but I can't remember.• Because, there was lots of smoke.  • My 12 year old daughter r…