I’d invite you to my place
But it’s only mine because it holds my suitcase…

So last night we packed and cleaned and packed.

Then I read some of “May you be the mother of 100 sons” and fell asleep.

This was interrupted by my daughter and her cousin getting out of bed repeatedly to tell us they were:

a) hot (no shit)
b) thirsty
c) had a nightmare
d) couldn’t sleep (still no shit)
e) thought that they heard flying monkeys.

I’ll let you guess if I made the last one up.

It’s been mostly painless so far…mostly. My grandfather broke an entire bag of wood chips into my trunk. Some one cracked my windshield while I was at work. My mother is convinced she could sand the door way down by hand. I think she’s just afraid of the electric version.

My sister is NOT moving. I’m happy she’s staying. It reinforces my belief the most people from the East need a lesson in compassion and kindness. Those of you who read this blog who are from the east…I’m sorry…but the majority of people I’ve met from there are two-faced baboons. Those that aren’t are very apparent right away while those that are hide in the bushes waiting for the attack. I treat everyone I meet with the same criteria…I’ll believe the actions before the words. It’s a fine line and my experience does not speak for all Easterners, but there it is.

Having said that I believe that most people are good. I also believe evil is a broken expression engine. You want your son to come home…fine say so…but if he doesn’t then don’t try to trick him into going home. That’s where my bias lies. And there are plenty of easterner folks who are true to there word and are good, strong, hard working people. You know who you are, and I count them as friends. I’ve come to expect corruption from easterners I don’t know…that’s not a good thing. But that’s not as bad as being from Missouri. Every bad thing that has happened to me has stemmed from Missouri. I’m not joking…I’m only 30 years old but every person who hurt me, things that broke or weird state law that has directly hurt my life was either born, made or passed…in Missouri. It’s a weird coincidence. Mississippi isn’t my hell. Missouri is. I hear M. giggling in the back ground now. I’m not at license to say why on a blog but if you know her…you’re laughing too.

So now that I’ve pissed everyone off…Pepper has migrated into the ceiling again. Stupid cat…I wonder if I can include her into the house?

sigh.