Last week we were in Myrtle Beach with my family, on vacation, and having grown bored of the beach we decided to go skating.
There were only four other people there, and two of them sat at the concession stand most of the time, so at times we had the floor all to ourselves. Lori is still scared and needs someone or something to hold onto. I got this video of us jamming, right after Lori stopped recording I turned around and fell all kinds of ways wrong and skint my knee. But being the trooper I am, it couldn’t stop me from boogie-ing on.
It may appear as though I am a goober, because I am. And because those skates make everyone wearing them look stupid. O, and also, pretty much nobody can pull off shorts and skates and look cool, so I had a lot going against me.
There are many things in life we take for granted, like the AC in the house, or the running water in the toilets, or the ability to eat without being in extremely large amounts of pain. I get to be reminded of how awesome eating is quite regularly.
My mouth is in a constant state of flux, whether it’s acid eating at my gums and tearing my mouth into tiny bits of flesh that crunchy/salty/anything at all really can get into and wiggle around and cause me to tear up and throw things across the room, or just as simple as biting my lip which eventually turns into a soft fleshy cavern that attracts everything like a magnet and makes me wince and grit my teeth and eventually throw things across the room.
A few Saturdays ago I bit my lip while eating dinner, no big deal, happens to me all the time, maybe I’m just a clumsy eater, or have a fat mouth or something. Fast forward to last Friday and I woke up with an eating disorder. It took almost seven days for my lip to turn into an evil creature bent on destroying me and my perception of food. Maybe the good part of my body is getting better at fighting off the bad part that wants to kill me, and that’s why it took so long, but really who knows.
We were watching that Dual Survival show with the woodsman and the hippy and they said something pretty cool, “Pain is weakness leaving the body”. That translates for me to, “HA HA! Pretty soon I’ll be able to destroy the world!”
Friday night was our Friend Jill’s birthday at Sparkles, skating rink. I love skating. I even have my own pair of speed skates, somewhere. Just like most everything else, I had lost them. Notice the use of the word “had” as now I “have” them. Two days after I needed them I found them in the same place everybody finds anything they’ve lost, the last place I looked. But what should have been the first or maybe second place to look, the bottom of the bedroom closet. Underneath a dress I started making for Lori a couple months ago and never finished because I only know how to look at boobs and not make clothes that fit them … I digress.
Skating was amazingly fun, just like I had thought it would be. Lori even had fun, which is awesomely unexpected seeing as she is, or better yet was, afraid of skating. It was supposed to be retro night, which just means they play mostly old music. I dressed normal of course, in my favorite polyester pants which I later went on to rip during an impromptu barrel roll going around one of the curves. Lori looked sad leading up to Friday because she doesn’t have anything retro looking to wear, so I made her these pants. Neither of us know what era we look like we are from, or if anything is cohesive, but at least we had fun and were comfortable in our awesomeness. Plus, there was a guy there in an MTV t-shirt and bell bottoms, which I’m pretty sure it from two different times, so we’re good in whatever.
We are still in pain from skating. It turned out to be a workout. A fun one though. So we will definitely be doing it again, very soon. Hopefully after the pain subsides for a day or so though, so I can remember what it feels like to not hurt.
How sucky is it when you are looking for something for weeks, and then you go out and find a replacement and spend forty five minutes modifying the new thing to fit, and then finally get it all working, and then that night you open a drawer and right on top is what you needed in the first place. It’s totally sucky, that’s how much sucky it is.
My belly button signals were quiet for a little bit there, one of you guys out there must have been trying to block the waves coming at me. My research turned up very little in the way of belly button communication theory, but there was one site that turned out to be a great resource. Apparently evil people will put saran wrap in your mailbox as a dampener for any kind of signal that may try to communicate with a person/people in a house. And not only by way of body holes, but even toes and hair folicles.
No saran wrap has turned up yet, but I’m sure it’s out there. There are in fact forces that wish me to remain a bumbling idiot, and I would not put it past them to so something like keep me from enlightenment or whatever it is that’s happening to me.
Any one know of a way to block the saran wrap from blocking me from hearing the importance that is coming at me? And aluminum foil blocks stuff like cosmic radiation and people from reading your mind and bugs from getting in your hair, and not so much boosting signals unless it’s for an old tv or radio.
After a certain time of the day I swear my belly button becomes a radio antenna signal receiver of great strength. It’s like a message is coming through to me from the middle of my body, and it’s in Spanish. Maybe that’s why Lori doesn’t want to touch it . . .
She is weirded out when I try to adjust the signal with my finger, she hates it, but it is necessary, absolutely necessary. Some things have to be done regardless of what others may think of you. What if the message is important. What if the universe is trying to communicate the old fashioned way, the first thing that ever connected me to somebody else, where i got my food and where the walkie talkie signals went through for telling my mom to stop moving so much while I was trying to sleep.
The updates must continue, you must all be made aware of whatever I uncover in my belly button, when I uncover it that is.
There is never time in the present, only air and water buffalo. It’s like they are watching me. Even out my back door window, they see me. See me, see through me, through the wall behind me, through themselves and back through me. I fear them more than I ever feared the squirrels on North Ave.
If there was a stick capable of landing on an enemy that would knock them over onto their back and convince them they were a spinach plant trying to break through the earth, I would totally throw it at these creepo water buffalo. They are defenders of nothing. They stare with an evil like that of a bad person. They deserve to be spinach.
