Jenny: Ugh, why? I blogged yesterday.
Me: Because you'll feel better. You always feel better after you get your thoughts out instead of bottling them up in your tummy and then eating your feelings.
Jenny: But I eat my feelings anyway.
Me: Good point. How about eating your feelings while you blog?
Jenny: Sounds like a plan, chica.
Me: No. Don't be that person.
I'm a little tender today. There's been a death in my family. I had a bad argument with my husband last night. I'm hopped up on NyQuil and DayQuil. I feel like a really bad friend, a bad person, a bad everything. I feel like a lizard killed and smeared on the bottom of a sneaker, my colors squashed and my guts spilled everywhere. And that lizard wants everyone to know how much everyone meant to her. And that lizard was just trying to do her job, just trying to get through the day, just wanted love and friendship and not to feel so tired all the time. And pie.
I had the best pie the other day that wasn't a pie. It was a Pop Tart. Actually, it was a cookies and cream Pop Tart. But it was so good that it was as good as pie. I could use some real pie though. I like lemon pie. Also french toast.
I tried to make french toast in a mug using the microwave last night because I saw it on Buzz Feed. It was extremely disgusting and a total waste of time. French toast should always be made in the oven or the griddle and nowhere else. Or maybe over an open fire with a stick. Actually I might try that sometime.
Something I won't try again any time soon? Crowdsourcing people for hair ideas. Proof that nobody loves me: I posted a poll on my Facebook? And I was the only one who voted on it. Except for a Twitter person:
@iamnotquirky Fire. Sustained flames on top of your head.
— Honey Laura Clark (@HoneyM0nster) August 27, 2014
One time I burned my eyebrows. I was trying to light my father's kitchen stove. He has a gas stove that's tricky and you have to turn it a certain way or it won't light. I let the gas accumulate too long and a flame roared past my face and burned my eyebrows.
As I get older I wish I could burn other people. I used to be this person who loved everyone and now I wish everyone would shut up. I keep wondering if perhaps I have always been this way but that I used to hide these feelings behind a human layer of shame and guilt. I no longer feel that shame and guilt. Instead I just wish people would not talk with their mouth full. Is that too much to ask, pigface?
I suppose I feel a little bit better. I am reminded that I really like food a whole lot. I am glad that I have access to food. I would probably eat a bug if it was marshmallow wrapped, caramel coated, and chocolate covered. Serve that shit on a graham cracker and it's a roach smore, bitches.
Happy Little Friday. Go link up if you must.