The last lunch...

TGIF! I had lunch with Boobie2 today. It's the last meal with my bud for a while. Looks like I'll be making a trip to Syracuse in the future. I love Johnny Corino's. Good italian food, excellent company. I had a lovely day away from work. It's kinda crazy, I didn't even miss the place. I usually fret about taking time off, I hate putting my responsibilities onto someone else. But today was a little different.

Lil' llama was out of school for Fall Break today. We had a great time, hanging out, chatting about random teenage bullshit. It's amazing how the youth can keep you young.

Okay, now the serious stuff...

Am I a narcissist? I have read this word over and over the past few days. I have pondered this question all evening. Yeah, sure, vanity is one of my strongest personality traits. But narcissism? I think that may be a little drastic. If the most common trait of this disorder is caring only for yourself, without regard to consequences or the feelings of others, than count me out. I think I constantly put the feelings of others, especially my children, way ahead of my own. Realistically, I could give a shit less about the folks in line with me at Wal-Mart, but I often help the old folks in the parking lot put away their buggies.

My parents are the most selfless people I know. They would do anything for anyone. I guess that's reverse narcissism. (I don't feel like looking up the exact term for that disorder.) I spent four years in a relationship, giving the other person everything, and getting nothing in return. Fuck that. I never want to be that person again, ever. It's that old saying, "looking out for number one." If I have learned on thing in the past 34 years (gasp) it's this: No one, but no one will evere take care of me, but me. I teach my daughter the same thing. If that makes me a narcissist, than go ahead, give me that label, and I will wear it proudly. It beats the hell out of wearing your heart on your sleeve and getting screwed by everyone around you.

Quote for the day: "The old dreams were good dreams. They didn't work out, but I'm glad I had them." - Clint Eastwood, Bridges of Madison County

WTF?

I love Sunday hangovers. Today's blog is brought to you by Southern Comfort and my random thoughts and questions.

1) Why did I take that last shot?

2) There are no guarantees in relationships.

3) Is malice necessarily bad?

4) In microwave popcorn, why don't all of the kernels pop? Even if you burn the bag until your whole house stinks, there's still unpopped kernels in the bottom of the bag.

5) I want to be a Fairy God Mother.

6) When something smells bad, why do we hand it someone else to smell?

7) Sunday, June 5, 2005 is Gay Day at the Magic Kingdom. Heck, yes.

Ok, enough babbling. My weekend was way, way, way, too odd to blog. Dali, I need guidance. Please take me with you on Thursday. Strange things are afoot.

An old friend is getting married. Once again, I am proving the theory, "Those that do not wed, plan." Yes, I am planning yet another wedding. Making ridiculus plans for a bride that thinks she is the only person to ever have a wedding (even though this will be her second big day.) We spent the bigger part of Friday evening looking at wedding dresses. YUCK! I would rather spend the same amount of money on those yummy Jimmy Choo's in my new Elle mag.

Quote for the day: "Rub my belly and tell me I'm pretty." - Kitty in the picture.

People Watching 101

Check out this dude! Does Santa ride a Harley? I spent most of the day Saturday, listening to live music at Smoky Mountain Harley Davidson, in Maryville. The music was superb, as usual when Jenna and the Joneses take the stage. Jenna sang her rendition of "Angel from Montgomery," an old John Prine song, and one of my favorites. I love that girl. I am a groupie, I must admit. The Coronas were lovely and the perfect beverage for the beautiful, almost fall, day.

I love any opportunity to watch folks gather, especially if alcohol is involved. Mariemon, I thought of you, as most of the peeps were wearing chaps. Go 'head girl, go 'head, get down.

I used to sling beers in a biker bar. Do not judge these people. I have never met anyone as warm hearted and generous. I guess there's a little mad dog biker chick inside me. The hard-core riders represent, to me, a sense of freedom that goes along with riding a motorcycle. they refuse to conform to society rules and regulations. Little llama still gets quite a kick out out of watching them in action.

Quote for the day: "A buzzard's got to eat, same as the worm." Clint Eastwood, Outlaw Josey Wales

Meet the Radioactive Llamas!

Today, I must talk about the llamas. I belong to a group called "Radioactive Llamas." I am one of two senior branch members. The rest of the members are high school students. My daughter and her friends started this group in tribute to a friend that moved to Los Angelos.

As a group, we don't really do much, we occasionally boycott stupid things, like mulch. We don't like the way it smells, and as some of you might know, we love to smell things.

My official title is Llama Mama. Only members can refer to me by my title. The rest of you may call me Kitten.

I will try to keep everyone updated on the latest boycotts.

Quote for the day: "Why don't the presidents fight the war?" - System of a Down

Popcorn chicken disturbs me. I believe they are chicken butts.


Quote for the day: "The sea monkeys stole my money." - Dory, Finding Nemo

Eddie

Eddie
Originally uploaded by tink927.

My brother has been dead for 1 year, today. This blog is a tribute to him. Eddie taught me most of what I know about music. We shared a love for a lot of the same musicians. He loved Jimi Hendrix, they even shared the same birthday (November 27.)

I keep writing this blog, then deleting what I've typed. What can you say to someone who can't even hear you. I can't type my emotions today.

I'll post these lyrics and send them out to wherever his spirit's lingering tonight...

After all the jacks are in their boxes,
and the clowns have all gone to bed,
you can hear happiness staggering on down the street,
footprints dressed in red.

And the wind whispers Mary.

A broom is drearily sweeping
up the broken pieces of yesterday's life.
Somewhere a Queen is weeping,
somewhere a King has no wife.

And the wind cries Mary.

The traffic lights they turn blue tomorrow
and shine their emptiness down on my bed,
The tiny island sags downstream
Cause the life that they lived is dead.

And the wind screams Mary.

Will the wind ever remember
The names it has blown in the past,
And with this crutch, its old age and its wisdom
It whispers, "No, this will be the last."

And the wind cries Mary.

Pumpkin Fest 001

Pumpkin Fest 001
Originally uploaded by tink927.

I met Barney Fife this weekend. He was really just an impersonator, but it got me thinkin' (oh, shit)...

Do people that make a living and hence spend their life imitating other people have their own personality, or do they become almost obsessed with becoming someone they are not. I also wonder, do these people imitate because they look like someone, or because they admire someone?

I have one of those faces. I get asked at least once a week, "You look just like so and so." I have even been approached by people in other cities, theme parks, etc. "Oh, my god, you look just like my cousin." I like to think, no, they look like me. Is there really such a thing as a dopple ganger (evil/nice twin?)

Quote for the day: "Nip it, Nip it in the bud." - Barney Fife