Lunch with Three Puerto Ricans . . . and Ray

I reread some of my older blogs this morning, which is very entertaining to do. A person can learn a lot about themselves when he or she reads what they have written. I learned two things. The first: I can tell a person anything; any truth, any desire, any fear; but only in writing. I have the opportunity weekly to say what ever I need to Amanda. I have every opportunity in the world to call Eva and say anything. I could look over to my left and tell Crystal what ever I needed. I could talk to Badger at any given moment. I could even talk to the dogs (although Bella likes to sometimes talk back)! I guess I have been disregarded enough, or stopped dead in my tracks, or hurt myself too much by letting some truth out. The more people know, the more they can and will hurt you. But that's not it though, even if I wanted to say something, I open my mouth to speak and the words stay inside, hidden like a small child trying to hide from an angry parent. Instead I just keep it all to myself and randomly let little bits of truth out in my writing. Thinking back, I have always written letters or kept a journal, something of the sort, in writing, that I sometimes mail, or sometimes let others read (like this blog).

The second thing: I have a very hard time being serious about my situations. I make jokes to ease situations, etc. Maybe all these things make me who I am, and I like that. I want to keep my stuff to me, I want to make jokes. I don't want people responding to this saying that I can tell them anything, I already know I can, I won't though. Thanks for wanting to listen.

Anyway, so as I was reading I was thinking of a lot of stories I should tell you, like Bella and the glycerin; helping Eva move and her cat attacking me; the time Dusty saved Drew's life in the swimming pool; the time Uncle Chris jumped over the fence; picnics on the porch; my pet lizards now buried in the flower pots; many camping trips; blackmail photos that I hope I own but can't remember; the Flogging Molly show where Dave King noticed me out of a crowd; smashing my finger; spraining my ankle; riding my bike into a parked car; punching Nolan at a show; John Linnell doing a double take for me and Eva; skankin' with the Specials; vacations in Texas.

Ah, well, if you have a story you want me to tell, I will, otherwise I'll save those for when I have no topics, along with other topics mentioned and not yet divulged!

I do need to be focusing on work and my experimental REVIT drafting project. The stress of work is starting to weigh in on my chest making breathing a difficult task.

Word of the day:
bajangled: To be, or have been intoxicated. Originally comes from "Mr. Bojangles".
In use: Last night I was so bajangled, I passed out in the middle of the street.

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