chaka chan

I'll tell you what, not drinking during the week can make me cranky fo sho. Not to sound that bad but it's 1:15pm CST and I need a glass of wine. And there's leftover Beltane party wine in the fridge and after I run my errands, and exercise, and shower, I'm a gonna have me a nice big ole glass of it. Pinot Grigio, my favorite.


So apparently I can't talk without hurting feelings. I can be manipulated but I can't talk about it. I need to go to California. I need to quit bitching and get that shit arranged. Go see my lovely lady lumps.

Anyway Gawd. Dramz. I think it would be a really interesting experiment for all the put-upon people in the world to volunteer a month in a nursing home. Go where families dump their "loved ones" time and time again to never come back. Where my grandmother lives, we see it all the time. Go visit with them. You want to know what lonely is. After a certain point, my grandmother could no longer communicate proper but she cries when she is sad and lonely. She laughs when we are there. It's a lovely thing that I can be so close to this grandmother that I was never close to in the first half of my life so far. In ways, I need to grow balls and express this to a certain someone who's woe is me life makes me want to lose it. But I can't. Because she's sensitive. And I'm stuck. Pissy.

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In waaay better news. Beltane was amazing. It deserves its own post it was that much fun. And tiring. Whew.