About Me

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I'm 25 and clueless, trying to find my way through a world that is becoming more and more complicated. I'm a single mommy, learning the ropes of parenthood and adulthood and trying not to mess my child up too bad in the process. I moved to Kansas almost 5 years ago from Ohio, where I currently live with my beautiful 5 year old daughter, and our dachshund Oscar. I'm a shy person on the outside, but on the inside I'm a total weirdo. I always speak before I think, (yeah, read that one again) I dance like an epileptic, and I laugh at myself constantly. I love fart jokes and dirty language...who doesn't? And if you're one of those people that don't...well then, fuck you. *fart*

Monday, August 2, 2010

There Is Something Seriously Wrong With Me.

My mind is not like other people’s. Last night, I had one of the weirdest dreams I can remember ever having. I literally woke up saying “What the fuck?!” and scratching my head. It was that strange.

So, let’s jump right into it. I dreamed that I was me, at my age, and that my mom had written a musical for a production at the Junior High she works at. (Well, she used to. Her position got eliminated and she got moved down to first grade. It’s a bunch of crap because she was an AWESOME teacher for that age group. But that’s a story for another time.) It was entitled: No More Bonnets! An Inspirational Story of Change.  It was about a group of Amish people who were protesting their boring clothes, and wanted to have the freedom to dress as they choose. Some of the songs titles were as follows:

“I Got Manure on my Jimmy Choos”

“We Want Booty Shorts”

"What's Wrong With Thongs?"

“Farming in My Air Force 1s.”

And last but not least…

“Pimped out Buggy”

I was the lead in this musical. (Because a 23 year old starring in a Junior High play totally makes sense, right?)  In the dream I had performed the entire show once before, but when the curtain opened on a full theater…I froze. I forgot every single word. I couldn’t remember how to sing or act, and I totally lost my cool. Which isn’t that surprising in my case, since I don’t have much to lose in the first place. I pulled a copy of the script out of my pocket, and started to do the show with the book in front of my face – hoping that the rest would come to me after a few minutes. It didn’t.

I was so nervous I couldn’t sing anywhere near loud enough – and some bastard hecklers in the audience were screaming shit like: “We can’t hear you!” and “You suck!” which didn’t make the situation any better. I was off key and didn’t know the notes to the song…but I knew the dance moves! I was doing jazz hands like nobody’s business. I did the chorus line can-can and I “raised the roof”. Because that’s how Amish people dance, of course. But I was so nervous and outright terrified that my face probably read “impending heart attack” instead of “theatrical enthusiasm”.

My mom was whisper\screaming at me from backstage: “You can do this! Relax! DON’T RUIN MY SHOW, YOU LITTLE ASSHOLE!!” And about this time is when I looked down, and noticed that my shoes fell off. Not sure how, when or why…but those bitches were gone. Dancing in socks was difficult.  I was slipping and sliding all over the stage, I couldn’t have kept my footing to save my life. And then I fell off the front of the stage and landed directly in Lebron James’ lap – who happened to be sitting in the front row. I stood up, looked around in humiliation, and ran from the room in tears. Then I woke up.

I usually remember my dreams for a few hours before they’re gone – but I have a feeling this one’s gonna stick with me for awhile. So….lesson learned. I will never eat Cheetos before bed again, if this is what will happen.

1 comment:

  1. Funny, funny, funny....and I would never call you a little a-hole. :>)