Coffee, Shoes, and Ramblings

This is Monkey before Coronation

Monkey is happy he is going to get to play bocce ball.

This is Monkey after Coronation.

Monkey is Sad

You see, Monkey was so happy to play bocce ball, he cooked for days making Jell-O shots.

Making Jell-O shots made Monkey happy.

Monkey packed up all his Jell-O shots, his bocce balls and went to play bocce ball.

He waited

He waited some more.

His friends were busy, they were working and couldn’t play with Monkey.

Maybe just one Jell-O shot Monkey thought? Ok, maybe just two?

Maybe just a few more?

Before Monkey knew it, he had walked all over site, sharing his Jell-O shots and still no bocce.

He was squeaked by this man:

Who also helped him carry his Jell-O shots.

And by another man who shall remain nameless but his initials are JL.

All in All Monkey had a good night, despite no longer being able to stay in trees. But still?

He wants to play bocce.

To find out why this Monkey is sad visit Trixie’s My Space Page.

On my door when I got home tonight:

IF YOU HAVE A

WEINER DOG, HE

GOT OUT.

HE IS AT (HOUSE NUMBER)

(PHONE)

Why don’t we have a cake store here where you can just go buy one piece and not the whole dang cake? They have a cake store like that in Little Rock, why not here? What gives?

Sometimes you just want a little cake. You don’t want a whole cake cause you know what it will do to your thighs, behind, and the rest of your life. You want sample cake, like you get before making your mind about a big decison. That way you can figure out the best combination of flavors and frostings and get the cake that is right for you.

It usually takes me a while to find my voice, to think it through, to weigh both sides of an issue. The thing is, I will no longer try to read between the lines. If you come to me with so and so said, you better be prepared to name names and be specific, and oh hey, lets call so and so and verify.

And if you have something to say to me, call me, e-mail me or do what you must to talk to me in person, don’t tell so and so, be vague, or make a passing reference. I think its healthier to be honest. Otherwise we just fester assuming things.

I keep thinking of old songs like “We didn’t start the fire.” I believe most people want the same thing, to be loved to be worthy and to be respected. I think people can change, do change and we shouldn’t keep going back to that one time they did such and such. And also? oh horrors, I think most people act out of pure motives, as in they care about people and want what’s best for them.

We also shouldn’t assume everyone is out to be mean and get us. Maybe, just maybe they are as lost and confused as you and trying to just live their lives. Maybe? what they are doing has nothing to do with you. Why assume the worst? What does that say about you?

You know that game at Chuck e Cheese? the one where the moles pop up and you smack them back down? Sometimes when people try to get out of the label we have assigned them that’s how they get treated, smacked back down where they belong. But in subtler nastier ways. By gossip, by innuendo, by anger cause they have something we don’t. Or they think we have something they don’t.

A true friend who has a problem with you will tell you, in an appropriate manner. Because maybe things aren’t as they are percieved. A true friend doesn’t believe the worst, and doesn’t blame you for what someone else did.

I turn on the tube and what do I see
A whole lotta people cryin’ ’don’t blame me’
They point their crooked little fingers ar everybody else
Spend all their time feelin’ sorry for themselves
Victim of this, victim of that
Your momma’s too thin; your daddy’s too fat

Get over it
Get over it
All this whinin’ and cryin’ and pitchin’ a fit
Get over it, get over it

You say you haven’t been the same since you had your little crash
But you might feel better if I gave you some cash
The more I think about it, old billy was right
Let’s kill all the lawyers, kill ’em tonight
You don’t want to work, you want to live like a king
But the big, bad world doesn’t owe you a thing

Get over it
Get over it
If you don’t want to play, then you might as well split
Get over it, get over it

It’s like going to confession every time I hear you speak
You’re makin’ the most of your losin’ streak
Some call it sick, but I call it weak

You drag it around like a ball and chain
You wallow in the guilt; you wallow in the pain
You wave it like a flag, you wear it like a crown
Got your mind in the gutter, bringin’ everybody down
Complain about the present and blame it on the past
I’d like to find your inner child and kick it’s little ass

Get over it
Get over it
All this bitchin’ and moanin’ and pitchin’ a fit
Get over it, get over it

Get over it
Get over it
It’s gotta stop sometime, so why don’t you quit
Get over it, get over it

Eagles

Well, she was precious like a flower
She grew wild, wild but innocent
A perfect prayer in a desperate hour
She was everything beautiful and different

Stupid boy, you can’t fence that in
Stupid boy, it’s like holding back the wind
She let her heart and soul right in your hands
And you stole her every dream and you crushed her plans
She never even knew she had a choice and that’s what happens
When the only voice she hears is telling her she can’t
Stupid boy, stupid boy
Oh

So what made you think you could take a life
And just push it push it around
I guess you build yourself up so high
You had to take her and break her down

She let her heart and soul right in your hands
And you stole her every dream and you crushed her plans
She never even knew she had a choice and that’s what happens
When the only voice she hears is telling her she can’t
You stupid boy

Oh, you always had to be right but now you’ve lost
The only thing that ever made you feel alive
Yeah, yeah

Well, she let her heart and soul right in your hands
And you stole her every dream and you crushed her plans
Yes, ya did
She never even knew she had a choice and that’s what happens
When the only voice she hears is telling her she can’t
You stupid boy, oh, I’m the same old
Same old stupid boy

It took awhile for her to figure out she could run
But when she did, she was long gone
Long gone, long gone
Ah, she’s gone

Keith Urban

To the tiny person hammering in my head: please stop.

Yesterday what was supposed to take one hour get my mom checked in to the hospital for surgery took five.

Sinus has struck again. I did get my heat turned on over the weeeknd, but didn’t sleep for three nights, so last night I was asleep by five, and finaly in bed asleep by 9:30 REM sleep Kat, cause I had some crazy, technicolor dreams, can’t reember dreaming in a long time. Woke up with sinus headache which has probably been building all week. (feels like a tumor)

Lost my ATM card cause when your head is being pounded on, you don’t think too much about little things, like ATM cards.

Despite the headache, I had a great weekend. Really great.

Mass shooting at the Virginia Tech Campus.

I got nothin.

The most embarrassing thing I’m going to admit about this week is I bought a hairbrush today. No big deal you say? Well I haven’t been able to find my hairbrush since Gulf Wars. Every thing is put away and no hairbrush. It seems my hairbrush ran a way with a nice squire’s hairbrush while my basket was left unattended at the field battle. They are living it up in costal Mississippi accompanied by a runaway dish and spoon.

It’s not like I haven’t brushed my hair since March, its just that I have a boar bristle brush which is good for brushing, but not styling. It brushes the curls out. So when I blow dry or style I don’t have a brush for that. Oh justification, how we love it. Last week I asked A how I looked and she said ok, but your hair needs to be brushed so I guess it was a bit more messy and less bed head than I wanted.

My niece and I think this song is funny. If you are female in Arkansas I’m sure at one point in your life you will hear this:

Every time you take a sip
In this smoky atmosphere
You press that bottle to your lips
And I wish I was your beer
In the small there of your back
Your jeans are playing peekaboo
I’d like to see the other half of your butterfly tattoo.

Hey that gives me an idea
Let’s get out of this bar
Drive out into the country
And find a place to park.

‘Cause I’d like to see you out in the moonlight
I’d like to kiss you way back in the sticks
I’d like to walk you through a field of wildflowers
And I’d like to check you for ticks.

I know the perfect little path
Out in these woods I used to hunt
Don’t worry babe I’ve got your back
And I’ve also got your front
Now, I’d hate to waste a night like this

I’ll keep you safe you wait and see
The only thing allowed to crawl all over you when we get there is me.

You know every guy in here tonight
Would like to take you home
But I’ve got way more class than them
Babe that ain’t what I want.

‘Cause I’d like to see you out in the moonlight
I’d like to kiss you way back in the sticks
I’d like to walk you through a field of wildflowers
And I’d like to check you for ticks.

You never know where one might be
There’s lots of place that are hard to reach
I gotcha.

I’d like to see you out in the moonlight
I’d like to kiss you baby way back in the sticks
I’d like to walk you through a field of wildflowers
And I’d like to check you for ticks.

I’d sure like to check you for ticks…

Brad Paisley, surely one of the hottest men alive.

It’s part of the whole “too much time on my hands” thing. I took a zillion pictures and still left out road maps. (for ramblings)

The items if you look closely have meaning. Ahh to be young and bored in the Spring. Yes I know I could be planting my garden, but what would I do tomorrow?