I really miss writing here. I lost my mojo for a while and I think I see it poking around the corner of the outhouse door, which is where I have been for quite a while. I do want to at least write about how life has treated me. It is not pretty I assure you. I thought I heard when life gives you eggs, make an omelet but I am afraid I left the shells in it. I am STILL unemployed. I love it, ha ha ha, I mean what is the big fucking deal anyways, who needs money? I have been busy though, I have been freelance writing (boring!) and writing, writing writing. My camera is never still and I have wayyy too many blogs to count. Why count them when I do not use them? You can call me lazy, that is fine. You can tell me I am not worth a shit, but don't waste your breath, I have already called myself that. Going on job interviews, whoa now there is some fun. I spent five hours at one company, FIVE HOURS! They told me a month later they were not going to hire anyone. Duhhhhhh, stupid asses. Went to another place, very close to home and had a great interview, but nooooooo, they did not hire me. One month later they had another ad in the paper for the same damn job. Fuck em, I did not want to work there anyways.
Then I started noticing my fingernails were growing over the edge of my fingers. I mean straight over the edge pointing to the palm. Weird stuff, damn I should take pictures. A couple of months later my youngest grandchild, bless her little heart, informed me I was going bald. Damn I love that child. So here I sit, looking for work, writing for someone else's blogs, worrying about life and just basically being a veritable lump. My thirst starts growing, I mean it is bad. Thirsty as in water, needed badly, and lots of it. Gallons I might say. I also cannot think very well, mind is as clear as mud, and I am starting to sleep during the day. Then (don't read any further if you are a wuss) I developed an itch. Yeah this itch was bigger than Godzilla, more than even Chuck Norris could deal with. Do I have to tell you where it was? I did not think so. Oh my god this itch took me beyond hell, I dug and scratched and peeled and dug some more and peeled like a third degree sunburn. I went to a clam doctor and was told I had no STD, no herpes or any other socially transmitted diseases, just old skin. Yes you heard me, old skin. I took the cream and the plunger home and started on what was a unsuccesful journey to healing. So I went to another doctor, telling him I think I am diabetic and voila, I am. Sugar will not even read on a meter, it was that high. Come to find out, I have been sick for quite a while and was close to a coma. That is why I am losing my hair and growing curled fingernails. I have to say, if I did not laugh I would curl into the fetal position and crying. So I am trying to put the pieces together and start writing here at least as much as I can.
Love you guys
Not your typical old woman
Ettarose
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I miss blogging, I must say. The camaraderie, the bullshit sharing, awareness that I am not the only one to know there are some real fucking winners out there. I also like the fact that there are others out there who appreciate my pain that I mask with humor. There is nothing like calling someone as ass basket because you hurt. Ha ha, I love it. This past year has done nothing for me, or should I say I have done nothing this past year except whine, eat, eat some more and then whine because I ate too much. I have written too many poems that get good reviews but are so dark I think only vampires should read them. I have written a book and I did get it published but as I am a nobody, it has sold only 5 copies and I am the idiot who bought those! I have 4 short stories under my belt and another book in the process. I do my homework which sucks ass because I have not been in school in about 75 years and I write for another blog about things on a more serious level, like "Is God Okay With Gays?" Really serious shit ya know? I miss all my friends in the blogging world and my being a seriously depressed wad of I don't know what is what keeps me a prisoner in my own home. A job? What the hell is that?
This is what it was like for me one year ago. Very dark, but one of my faves. I hope you do not mind that I share this with you.
You live in hell
In your mind
Tortured, burning,
The pain is real
To you and only you
But to others no
Understanding is
There to feel
To know
To live
The hell in your mind
Walking through the quagmire
Of guilt, drowning in tears
Knowing those souls who tear at your mind
Are not real, but in the tattoos of your heart they
Are what you caused the pain in your being, trying to
Cut them away, but after the cleansing they remain.
Pulling at your limbs they want to succeed
In the madness you feel just at bay, waiting and watching
For that slip, that trip that is always just around the corner, the deep recesses of the twisted threads in your mind.
Not your typical old woman,
Ettarose
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Since becoming an unemployed older with no sugar daddy in sight, I have decided to go to school. Yeah, you know the online stuff. I first decided to go to ITT, whoah big mistake. Not long after starting the Feds raided the President's house looking for evidence of scams involving the US Military grants. Shit, I knew something like this would happen. So I decided to go to another more reputable school. Where I would be happy but for one thing; students who not only cannot write coherently, but do not know the difference between to, two and too. Or their, they're or there. Drives me freaking bonkers! How can someone go to an online school without even knowing where the fucking spell check button is. I know there are people who are not good at spelling, but damn it you lazy bastards learn how to spell check. Here is one example;
"You did reel good on yur asinment. i wishj i cuold do as good liiike you. my scoolwork can be bettter if i onlyu tryd."
Now what the hell! I thought I was in the military trying to break the code from the enemy. "Dog barks at midnight. Mother Goose rendezvous at port." Now I really do not care how shitty the writing is, but I have to answer these guys in my discussions. I have tried to tell them they can't spell worth a shit but I don't think they understand the code.
Not your typical old woman,
Ettarose
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My poor poor pussy. I think something happened to it last week. He was very sluggish and really out of sorts. No matter what I tried to do to it, nothing seemed to make him happy, really acting very very sore, like he had been abused. Petting it didn't accomplish anything, offering toys, nothing seemed to make a difference in how it felt. I thought maybe I would have to take it to see a doctor but thank God this morning it was doing really well, very perky and wanting to play. I am so relieved I can't tell you,....... hey wait a minute! I know what you are thinking, get your minds out of the gutter, eyes up here fools. I'm talking about my big old cat, and his name is Smoky and he really has been feeling bad. Jeez you guys!
Ettarose
Not your typical old woman
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Okay, so I have not been posting in like.... two hundred years. I know some of you wondered about me and those some of you have shown what awesome people you be. The rest of you, well I don't blame you for out of sight is out of mind, although in my case it is out of your mind. Ha ha. I still am not working, who da thunk? Yeah no one wants me, well except the work at home jobs where you can make thousands of dollars for three hours work. I know sounds good don't it? I am really surprised at all the unemployment with these kind of jobs floating around. Maybe there will be room for Bullock Baloney when he finishes his one and only term as our very own stool pusher, what do you think?
I have to say staying at home all this time has changed me my friends. I am much fatter and older and wiser if only because I am working toward a BS in business. I now look very much like a Sharpei and I don't stray (stray, hah I said stray) too far away from the family when we are out. Someone will call the dog pound and I for one do not want someone staring at me through the glass of a pet store asking how much is that doggy in the window. In the old days I was afraid of going to the beach, afraid someone would call PETA thinking I was a beached whale. Now with all the new wrinkles I am a Sharpei. I wonder what I will be next?
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The big news right now is the anniversary of the boy scouts. Yes, 100 rip roaring years of fun ways to learn new skills. I am sure a good percentage of the leaders are excited at the prospect of 46,000 young men all crammed together in little tents while they stand watch over the condoms water balloons being filled for the next days “wet t-shirt” contest.
The celebration is to be held in Virginia at Fort AP Hill Army base, as it has been for the last 20 to life. The scouts will be learning the art of “sodomy” and fellatio as well as the fine art of the "reach around." There will be an oyster dinner and for those smaller ones there will be hot dogs and some good Mike's Hard Lemonade. Included in this years festivities is a surprise guest singer and a trip to a real bar. I hear the boys are not allowed to drink though, they are just getting a quick lesson in pushing in stools.
Another favorite is when the guys are taught how to three way conference call, and demonstrate that skill with a long cuddly talk with the Vatican. Gomer Pyle will close the event by singing the theme from the hit movie 'Brokeback Mountain.
There is sure to be fun had by all.
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Twas the night before Christmas and all through the ward,
all the patients were stirring cuz Steve had his sword.
Susie was screaming from her chair were she was strapped,
and Tony was telling where he thinks he had crapped.
The IV’s were hung from all the beds with great care,
in the hopes that St Nick would soon appear.
When out in the hall there arose such a clatter,
Phil just fell down while dancing, his teeth they did shatter,
all the while he had thought he was one of the Platters.
Through the window we saw from the light of the moon,
what appeared to be St nick, was it one of us loons?
A nurse all in red stood in our doorways smiling,
We stopped in our tracks, no more were we bailing
We knew who this was, and we came out of hiding.
When it was over we thought we all heard
These words as she ran down the big empty hall
On Haldol, on Lithium, Xanax, and Neurontin,
On Valium, Lexapro, Paxil and Wellbutrin,
dash away, dash away, dash away all.
Merry Christmas to all and to all a drugged night.
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