I find it funny when people call me spunky. I once had a person tell me I'm a free spirit. This made me laugh, because I do not - in any way shape or form - see myself in that light. Spunky I can deal with, but I'm too uptight to hold the title of "free spirited."
Mostly, I feel like I'm just one of those people who didn't show up the day they were handing out that inner voice so many have, love and cherish. This really becomes evident when I've had a few...
Take Saturday for example.
Before my demise and ending placement in bed all safe and warm by 11:30 pm on a Saturday night, I was smoking outside and this older man asked me where my coat was.
"I left it in the limo" I told him - yes. It was in the 30's and I was wearing a tank top - bite me
"You know if you stay out here much longer we'll get to watch your headlight turn on!" He started laughing and my response was to walk up to him and and tell the young women with him (he had to be in his 50's if not 60') how lucky they were to be with him and I'm sure I said a few more choice things before I smiled and went "Oh! Gotta go back inside!"
One of my guy friends asked if randoms try to take me home - the answer is no. Most guys don't know what to do with me. For I am a lippy bitch and am more than willing to give them a hard time and the last thing some guy wants is some lippy chick getting in their face and making others laugh at them.
Evidently it's embarrassing.
See, not a free spirit - I'm just freaking loud and don't much care for old men mocking my coatless ass in 30 degree temps.
When I think back to moments like that I realize I should probably keep my mouth shut, but whatever. I say don't dish it out if you can't take it.
That lippy, bitchness is what keeps me going most days. Days when I start to fall back into the routine of my life that I don't like. Now, don't get me wrong, I don't mean my son or anything like that I mean what I'm doing and very much NOT doing with my life.
I look around and watch people try to sell me the freaking Brooklyn Bridge for a buck fifty and just smile and stand up and walk away. But for some reason, if the voice it mine, I write myself the damn check every time. (sadly making money off yourself never really works)
So here I am.
Loud little old me.
Keeping the spunk alive as much as I can!
I have to say, I'm happy with having my gut back. It took a while, but it's there and pretty much on point. My 90% accuracy rating is back in check so now I just get even madder at myself for NOT doing things!
So this is me doing this.
This is me telling myself I have no other choice. You don't need to be a freaking clairvoyant to see what my life will become if I don't get off my butt soon. I don't need to be psychic to know that I'm going to be miserable if I just settle for nothing when I could bust my ass to get the somethings I desire.
Thank you for being part of my nightly pep talk to myself! HA!
I think I'm going to go write the kids story really quick and then finish Coraline - its only like 161 pages and personally I think sleep is for pussies...
Plus if I stay on here I'm just going to go on a rant about sex... cuz I've got sex on the brain tonight...
Here's a funny story about how my sick mind gets overly obsessed with sex - just a quick little one - I was in an obsessive mood one night and I was driving and - well the porn in my head was running very, very freely... so freely I turned into oncoming traffic. It took me a few second to realize it too before I swore and turn then hell around.
Lucky for me it was really late and there were no cars on the one way street that I was driving the wrong way on - but yes... that is why I won't get into it now, because then that's the only thing I'll think about all night.
And people think driving with cell phones is not safe! One time I jumped a curb... nearly hit a telephone pole.
Lippy, bitchy and with sex on the brain means an unproductive night
Well, in a literary sense at least.