What we have here is a failure to communicate.

Pretty typical, no? How many songs, how many singers, how many roads does the man go down...all because of that communication dislocation. Or dislocution to be more accurate and to make up a new word.

So what's the bloody point? Shit, man, I don't know. Just saying stuff. Playing with words. Playing with works. Too much coffee, too little sleep, too much fucking time on my hands. (that wouldn't get FM radio play, now would it?)

And part of the daily whine- just don't leave me alone. But then when I'm not alone, I feel alone. Just part of the daily equipage. Like the wedding ring- that indicates that these boots aren't made for walking- they are made for making my legs look longer. And indicates that loyalties are not to be divided or conquered.

My current MySpace mood- wondering if it's too early to start drinking Hutterite wine. As it's only 9:00 am, probably. But cannot deny the mood. Never was a sucker for Irish coffee- too much family history there. And gets me all stubborn to prove the naysayers wrong- all that sitting duck prophecizing and all- not interested in following anyone down any bloody primrose path. Just want to blaze my own. And hope that it's a happy one. But not guaranteeing anything.

Major events today: 14th Anniversary. Of the blessed event. Me, with the worst haircut of my life. Made my head look like an egg. The Boy, ditto the worst haircut ever. Made him look 12 and mentally challenged. Me, a total wreck, expecting the family to implode, my head to explode, and feeling ugly with the worst haircut ever. But with comfortable footwear, because that is important.

Other event today: going to the bank to deposit second to last Unemployment check. Because lately, any reason to leave the house and actually speak to people face-to-face, not cheek-to-cheek is an event. Gotta get cat food, and drop by the dry cleaners, as well- if you must know.

But in the meantime, there's the whole communication thingy that distracts me. Because no matter how many words I write, it appears that somewhere a few go awry, and don't connect to the proper circuitry of others. And this worries me. Unduly, no doubt. But I always want to be understood. And accepted. And liked. And part of me hates that kind of thing. The vulnerability thing. Makes my teeth go all on edge and grate together- and my jaw ache. Because it's being clenched so hard...

and now enough of this. Time for distraction.