I dont really get too excited about the famous type of folk, I have met a few of them and for the most part they are just as twitchy as everyone else, but with a bit more money.I tend to get a bit gobsmacked around good looking men because well, I am a lonely, lonely woman and I think that is a pretty normal response for someone who has not had a quality trouncing in many years. When I met Aaron Tippin I thought he was pleasant and it was nice guarding him, and he was very kind to give me the signed set list for the evening, but his fiddle player was who I though was a little doll baby. Meeting Matt Hensley from Flogging Molly after the concert left me shaky and stuttering because that was like meeting a religious leader, if I had gotten to meet and shake Dave Kings hand I probably would have had a heart attack and died right there on the floor of the concert hall because he is a hero of mine who has brought me years of happiness. The oddest occurrence though, that has ever struck me was meeting daughters rangy young rock star and his compatriots. I literally was almost struck speechless. I know I stuttered worse than I have ever stuttered in my life, and I felt like I was standing down range of a firing squad of machine guns. He was cuuute! But, then they all were and though I was in full alert mode due to the crowd and the situation and being stressed out of my mind, I still managed to not pass the hell out or do anything too off the wall so that my baby girl could get her picture. I like to chalk up my reaction to the PTSD and the fact he was a guy and I was just over the top stressed and my blood sugar was in the pits at about that point, but who the hell knows, that boy is awful shiny and pretty and daughter is taken with him awful hard.
Giving advice is because I give a damn. Most of the time it is ignored or it offends the one I offer it to, but on rare occasions someone listens and it does some good. I never expect to get credit for my ideas or suggestions, after all, I am a parent and I have been a teacher and a cop and I have been in public safety for a long damn time. I am used to doing things for the good of others without anyone ever recognizing or noticing or even admitting I existed. I do them because I get the satisfaction of knowing that I paid it forward and that in some little way I made a difference for someone.
Sitting at the Starbucks with my friend the other day we were talking about the general dissatisfaction we were hearing and seeing with our favorite band. Fans were complaining about the loss of connection and other things that fans just tend to bitch about and that the pr folks were ignoring. I commented that someone ought to write the band and suggest that they use social media like twitter for maybe 15 minutes a day to actually talk TO some fans instead of AT them and that they would see an explosion in support and love. Well, the gauntlet was tossed down and next thing you know, I am writing of all things, a damn fan letter to this funky little band and making this exact suggestion to them, explaining how major celebrities and other favorite bands of mine like Cage The Elephant actually talk to fans, and they have a HUGE following. I figured the letter made it to some drones desk and then,"delete" was hit after jokes were made about the arrogance of some middle-aged skag in the middle of nowhere having the audacity to think they might know a thing or two about a thing or two was made. But then the other day, I was out wandering around with my friend and low and behold...evidence somebody, somewhere, took my advice. I smiled as the twitter feed exploded in over-excited fans and the happy feeling in my heart lasted for days. My own son may not take my advice very often, but its good to know other boys listen occasionally.
Daughter made it home from camp safe and happy and full of stories of monkey fighting with a girl named London who was offended that she was corrected by daughter that her monkey was in fact and ape because it had no tail, so she in return referred to Jackson as,"Gay", thus inciting a lecture on how,"Thats not a problem but its rude to say it that way." which then prompted a round of,"you're weird's" that escalated into a full on fight. London was moved into another cabin and daughter was told that biting and then blaming her monkey was not acceptable. I dont know if the other brat got the lecture about name calling, but somehow I kinda doubt it. Anyway, she got to go swimming and she told me they found out she couldn't swim when she went right to the bottom of the pool after coming off the slide. Nice...my kid nearly drowned.Just what I wanted to hear. But she is home safe and happy. Son leaves for his camp this Sunday. Its really terrible timing for us because we are moving! I have been having mild asthma attacks for quite a while now, and I am convinced its due to the weed smoke we get from the neighbors next door. Some nights its soo thick that you can see the haze in my apartment and I get a contact high if I sit in the dining room,and we cant even open the main front window without it pouring in.
I always have to warn visitors who are new to our place that the weed smoke isn't from us, its from our neighbors and that was our out. The management came down one day and were shocked at the amount of smoke around our front doors,(Cheech and Chong amounts), and realized that it was a health and welfare issue, so they granted us my request for a transfer.
The manager came and inspected my apartment and said I was getting back all of my deposit,(pays to be clean and careful), and they would allow that to be applied to the new place, so the fancy place is ours and we even get to move in early, but I will be doing the moving by myself because son will be gone for an entire week.
I will get it done somehow, some way because that is just how I roll, and it will be nice to finally be in a bright, shiny, brand new, all fancy apartment with new appliances and neighbors that dont smoke weed in amounts that make Cheech and Chong shocked. I dont have a problem with weed smokers, in the grand scheme of thing they are the lesser of many evils, but I am trying to find a damn job, trying to raise my kids and trying to just breathe and walking around half-stoned and smelling like a doob is not helping the situation at all, so a new location is the best solution.
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