Oh Crap.

Alrighty then....I have come to a major realization here: I am on my way to fat old and boring. SHIT! What am I going to do? What I have been doing does not seem to be working out for me very well, so I guess it is time for a CHANGE. In a way, my lovely whore sisters over at Moms who Drink and Swear have inspired me. Nikki made a blog (and aparently makes a living) from just being herself, which is actually a lot like me. Now I realize that I am truly not alone, no matter how alone I actually am (see....delusion can be good for you.) Renee can yell at me now, since she has been bugging me and bugging me to write something new, and I realized last night that one of my posts on MWDAS actually made me feel better about life (might have been the beer, but whatevah!) so I am going to try harder to write.
Now here's the other thing that I realized: I am not 25, or 30, or even 35 anymore. The planetary act of rotation closer to the sun, while impressive, will no longer dissolve the warm outer layer of my winter fat. SHIT! I have flirted with this realization since Jack was born, but I have never really approached the problem with any sort of resolve. Well, that needs to change, because my outsides need to reflect how drop dead hot I am on the inside. so there. That boring shit starts today, since no time is better than now.
As to the old thing: I looked inside myself and realized that I will never be old. I am 21 and hot to trot and foul mouthed and punky funky weird inside there. I don't care if someone thinks I'm too old to shop at Hot Topic...I'm going to anyway. Here's the thing about that: The point of dressing like a freak when you were 21 was to make old people (that would be anyone over 35) nervous. I devised a plan that will let me hold on to my skull tee shirts, big black boots and Dropkick Murphys hoodies (not that I have one of those, but hint hint honey...) Now I try to make the YOUNG people nervous. I realize that 3 years ago, I used to relish the fact that Lily's classmates were a little scared of me. Not all of them, just the snotnosed brats in need of the sassback hand. Then I started to think about that time in the not so distant future when she will be dating. I was punk when punk was scary, not Avril Levigne wearing a tie (how the eff do you spell her last name?) Think of all those awkward teens coming to my house and having to ask me to turn the music down. It makes me smile just to think of how uncomfortable I could make impressionable young men when I beat their sorry asses at Rockband.
Speaking of Rockband, on to the boring part. Who am I trying to kid? I ain't never been boring, and I ain't gonna start now. I'm a videogame junkie that refuses to grow up and stop having "parties" (they ARE still parties if it's just you and one other person, right?) and till thinks that the Muppets are HIGH-larious. So there. Recipe to follow.