The Bigger Person

I'm the bigger person,
As you can clearly see....
Although my stomach longs for strawberry pie
It remains void of such pastry.....

But I've gone to Sunday school
And Jesus taught me to share
Clearly you need a few lessons
and I shall lift you up in prayer.

The honeymoon feels over
And that makes me a little sad....
I hope your silly pie was worth it
But don't worry, as you can clearly see, I'm not mad

I hope you enjoy your sweet chocolate
From your modern-day Joan of Arc
I guess this is my cross to bare
I hope it doesn't make you shart.....

**I wrote this to my boyfriend after I found out he didn't share the pie.......my sister helped significantly.........I give her ideas, and she busts out rhymes like Vanilla Ice............she's God's gift to me.

Hotter Than A Homemade Sin

I’m ready to write again. I’m ready to share the things I hear and see throughout my days, like the above title…..a lady said this to me this morning when she spoke of the dessert in Arizona.

I love blogs, they are my new people.com…….and unlike the gossip rag, I actually feel uplifted after I get done zoning out to beautiful pictures and creative ideas of real people. Like Pioneer Woman, or Bleubird Vintage, or Color Me Katie, or Beautiful Mess……….however, similarly to the gossip rags I do get done and think “I wanna be that”, as I look around at my house and my clothes. I wanna be able to take a picture of a simple vintage ceramic bowl and make it look magical……….I wanna have blue and purple nails, and rock a polyester jumpsuit. I wanna get away from this drag that they call my job and wake up and glue hearts all over my house if that’s what I wake up feelin’. I wanna be quirky. I wanna be cute. I wanna not take myself seriously. I wanna be part of Improv Everywhere. I WANT TO BE CREATIVE, DADJUMMIT!

So, in a blaze of inspiration, I jerk my iPhone out of my purse, say to myself “Let’s get this party started”, and snap a self portrait of me at an interesting angle, doing something interesting, and this is all followed by instant disappointment and I think “Do I look like that?” Then that thought follows the agreement that iPhones don’t take flattering pictures, period, and they would even make Jennifer Gardner would look awkward.

So now what? Do I steal some cool photos that inspire me from other blogs…..no, cause then I’ll feel like poser and a fake. Do I up and quit my job so I’ve got all the free time in the world to make origami cranes and hang them from my ceiling? Heck if I know.

But this is a start. And we’ll see what comes of it.

Putting Your Past For Sale On Craigslist

I have a little habit that I do on my spare time for cheap entertainment. It’s not something that I’m particularly proud of, but I never had a reason to be ashamed of it, either…..at least until a few days ago. The secret vice is Craigslist Jewelry.

I like to peruse the engagement rings. I find it amazing how cheap one could get a diamond by avoiding the local jewelry store, I like to reflect on how much time, effort, and heart went into picking out that ring that was intended on forever adorning some delicate finger……and lastly, I like to read what folks write about their baubles. Just to list a few:

“Obviously it didn’t work out for me….but you could make a girl happy with this ring”

“I’m wanting to get rid of this and get a boob job”

“Will consider trading for a boat, truck, or guns”

“This ring is not cursed”

All of this, in addition to extreme adrenaline and nausea came crashing down on me a few nights ago around 3am in a bout of insomnia. I was doing my usual internet rounds and all of the sudden I felt unease, something was uncomfortably familiar…….yellow sapphires, palladium, one of a kind design, a recognizable phone number………SWEET BALLS, THIS IS MY RING!

And there it was…… my name, my ring, and my past on the chopping block. It’s kind of like seeing your own name in the obits.

So how do I feel about this mad stroke of irony? Short-changed.

As a Craigslist enthusiast, I was let down......all the ad talked about was the ring, the diamond, the cut, the clarity, the price. Where’s the spirit, where’s the angst, why would trading the ring in for a scooter not be considered????

I giggled for more than what was prudent.......laid back on my pillow, tried to force my ass cheeks to quit clinching, and summed up that my past, my triumphs, and my follie went full circle. Then I slept like a baby.