Monday, December 28, 2009

Meet the Queen...

I can write about anything and it just flows. Until now. Talking about myself is not my forte. But its a necessary evil. Kind of like child birth. Painful, but the kind of pain you remember forever and still need drugs to numb forget. I think I hate it so much because it reminds me of just how old and boring mature I've gotten over the years. Everyone misses the fun of their youth. Occasionally with the help of Captain Morgans I relive it.

I'm a 30 something woman who resides in a typical small town in the midwest. I'm the mom to an amazing, yet volatile, preteen girl. I have a part chihuahua part bitch yorkie. Needless to say, I have more gray hair than I'd like. Which WILL be eliminated soon. My hair is generally in a ponytail. And my clothing hasn't been updated in years. We just recently became homeowners of a quaint little fixer upper mobile home. I'm just now rediscovering friendships that don't revolve around children, hobbies that don't revolve around children, and looking like something other than what the dog left in the yard before she dashed back inside.

I cuss more than I should. I enjoy a drink not nearly often enough on occasion. I have my own multiple personalities that occasionally visit several times a day. I'm bluntly honest with my daughter but have to remind her that some things we don't share at school. And I absolutely hate stupid people. Yet they seem to find me at every corner.

To wrap up an accurate description of me, I'm going to show my roots. And no not the gray ones. I mean the southern ones. These two sayings accurately describe me at this point in my life:

1. If mama ain't happy, nobody's happy

2. I'm much too young to feel this damn old

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