soapboxdiner

Will the Real SBD Please Stand Up?

I think I'm ready to be back "on". I think a week of "off" is more than sufficient, don't you? I'm fairly sick of being a short tempered, evil, emotional, sobbing, alcoholic wreck.

That, and Dr. J walked in on my in the bathroom and saw me half nekid. Why? Because I have been such a space case that I was daydreaming and didn't lock the door before sitting on my thrown to contemplate the state of dryness in my split ends. And the best thing I could come up with was WHOAWHOAWHOAWHOA WHOA BUDDY! GET OUT OF HERE!

However, my final Columbia House shipment (save my Blu Cantrell CD) has finally arrived, so I can add Rapper's Delight and De La Soul's Me Myself & I to the growing Gathering De SBD musical playlist. It's become quite ecclectic in style actually - with everything from The Commodores to the Eurythmics; Stevie Ray Vaughn to Tracy Chapman. I've tentatively added Madonna's XXX Justify My Love onto the list, sparking some energy to the slow smoulder of the R&B/blues intros - but it may be just a little to XXX for everyone's comfort. Personally, I like a good shock to my moral system every now and again, just to keep me paying attention - but eh. I certainly don't want anyone offended by Madonna telling them what she wants done with her kitty.

My house is still a wreck and I haven't even planned the menu yet. I'm so very much a wreck right now, we may only be eating Fritos with dip. If I get on it soon, maybe I'll throw together a batch of my patented yummy yummy good good chicken wings.

You know what I really really really would like more than anything? I would like someone to pull me into their lap and stroke my hair, making a safe little purring sound in the back of their throat and telling me, "Just breathe there, lady. It will be okay." That's what I want.

And no, I don't want it to be from my mother.

6:42 pm - 04.22.03
previous | next

Home | Archives | Profile | Notes | DiaryLand | Random Entry