Sometimes I Want a New Head-Frame

I listened to this fantastic freaking song over at MTAE’s blog, entitled “I Hate My Life.”   Well, for a bitching, whining, complaining rant, the funny thing is how much it made me laugh with each re-play.

Yes! Give me some negative M*THERF*CKERS to make me feel at home, like I’ve found my place in the world.  Evidently I sometimes need that negative vibe for balance.   I feel good when others sound as bad or worse.

I’m a natural teeter-totter and will go to the opposite end of the earth to equal things out.  Overblown unhappiness and discontent in others, for whatever unknown reason, gives me the freedom to glow with positivity. However, when surrounded by happy saps I feel an incredible urge to run home and change into an all black ensemble.

I’m not saying this is a great way to be in the world, I’m just claiming it as mine.

As part of a smiling group collecting for the local food bank today, when one of the kids got an aggressive & nasty response from an adult & responded “Go to hell!” I felt absolutely gleeful about the entire exchange.  It was real and expressive and heartfelt, even when they both wanted to kick each other in the face.

It’s a little bizarre how life forces you to change & suddenly you wonder what happened.  I enjoyed being stupid & idiotic & irresponsible before I had children & married a man whose job depends upon never showing his ass in public. 

I thought I was one of the most positive people I knew, until I met the guy I live with, the one who could

step in horse shit

and then claim his foot had previously been cold

and the shit warmed his foot

and how f*cking lucky could a person be?

I really do love my life today and wouldn’t trade  it for the world. 

But sometimes I think I’d like to change things up and breathe different air just for the moment. 

Then I imagine it would be so much fun to:

Go to a country western bar and get drunk and scream karaoke before I fall on the sticky floor (I would so totally hate it when I woke up).

Or . . .

Flirt with a lowlife, or 12 (sloppy drunks with filthy sheets & long toenails).

Or . . .

Throw a bowling ball at the head of the bitch who threw a final strike & beat us last night by one single pin, thus exercising my competitive insanity (voluntary manslaughter, 10 to 12 years).

Or . . .

Get completely blasted on one of several substances I would never want my children to go near (brain damage).

Or . . .

Hit the pedal to the metal and get the Charger up to 120 in less than a minute and hold it there (wahoo!). 

Or . . .

Just say what I really mean whenever I want to, no matter the consequence  (even better yet).

Or . . .

Fly.

Know what I mean?