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Sound; The sound of snow not falling. The raspy voices of uppity northern transplants mocking me and my entire culture.

Sight; The sight of no snow.

Taste; I'm not eating snowflakes. Yet.

Touch; Even my skin is against me. Exuding oil that apparently only I am aware of. I said to Adam last night that I was breaking out. He had to have it pointed to to see it. Truth or not, the man's a gem.

Smell; Patch oil.

January 28, 2000
Barren Land/Delta's Ready When You Are/My Little Own State of the Union




Don't you dare tell me how natural I look doing this. Barren Land

I'm divided. Each half of my heart is beating to the rhythm of a different drum.

The Eckerd Brand Early Pregnancy Test, that I bought with crinkly ones and change scrounged from the car console, was negative.

I am mystified at the level of devastation I'm experiencing. That doesn't help to elevate the pain at all either. I deal with uncomfortable situations and painful happenings by knowing exactly what is occurring every step of the way. Someone told me recently that's a symptom of being a control freak. I'd disagree, I think that a person is entitled to understand the circumstances of what it is that is effecting them. Though on the other hand, I can see how it could be a decent blend of the two.

I didn't necessarily want a child. So why do I feel like I'm underneath the weight of a four ton boulder? It fades now, though. When I stood over the miniscule window, waiting for the sickly yellow color of my urine to travel through the window and create the pink lines...I wanted. I just wanted so badly.

Part of me feels broken. I feel like my body has viewed my past pregnancies as an affront to the ecological balance of my system. One ill-fated choice when I didn't know my ass from a hole in the ground has caused my body to turn against me.

Though thinking about it now, maybe I don't necessarily want a child...I want proof that all my plumbing is still in working order. Proof positive that when I do decide to procreate, I can.

Or maybe not.

It doesn't matter a lick now, though.


Delta's Ready When You Are.

The weather is supposedly taking a turn for the worst today, but the sky isn't showing any signs of impending doom. Everyone from the Northern part of the US, okay I don't have to put on fronts in my own journal, Yankees are giving the natives such grief because of the state of emergency here. Bread and milk are non-issues, there just aren't any on the shelves. Firewood, space heaters, warming devices of all shapes and colors disappear off of the shelves within moments.

It's making us look like country bumpkins and it's pissing me off.

On our side though, we honestly do not have the equipment and manpower for the ice that will follow the snow. We just don't get that sort of thing here often. So the threat is very real. All of the houses that weren't effected, the tree roots that didn't give out during last week's ice storm may very well give up the ghost this evening or tomorrow. So this is the real threat, as opposed to the Yankee's opinions. They think we're scared of the snow. My favorite thing that Yo Momma says when she's tired of lsitening to me bitch about this, which is inevitable every winter..."Delta's Ready When You Are." Really, if you don't like it, leave.

I have no problem with Northern transplants, or northerners in general. My mother lives in Jersey for christsake. It just seems that those that decide to move here are the ones who hate the south and southerners. It makes me furious. Fighting mad.

On the surface we're the ones that look like raving idiots. Truth be told, the transplants from up north are the ones who are going to suffer for their stupidity. If you laugh off the chance of disaster, will you be prepared when it strikes? What they need to realize is back home, they were ready, their states were ready, local government was on top of things and keeping everything moving smoothly. Here, we just don't have the resources. Perhaps if they thought about that, they wouldn't be calling us Chicken Little.

That really gets me, Chief keeps calling us Chicken Little and saying "the sky is falling, the sky is falling!"

It's not the weather, it's how our little city can handle itself. Why am I trying to explain this here? The truth is the truth is the truth. However, transplants seem to just wave it off and laugh at us. Makes me see scarlet.

Deep Breath.

For the first time this week I crept from beneath the covers well before I was supposed to be at work. That alone is enough of an accomplishment for my entire day, I am not responsible for anything else for the next 18 hours.

Thank you Jesus, Big Daddy, and the Spook...our heat has been fixed and our apartment is finally reached the normal temperature. It took a full day for it to hold even one degree.

I love that phrase, and I struggle not to overuse it. If you catch me doing so, just smack me.

Goddamnit. HOLD ME BACK! Back Fat was just talking to a friend from Chicago and laughing about the school's closing (which I agree is ridiculous) and began saying "You know how these southerners are, can't tell them anything!"

I am very angry, but the only thing I just said to her over the cube wall was "I'm sick of it, watch the southerner shit."

If she had been face to face it would have been a bit more interactive. Why does this woman in particular affect me so strongly? Prior to this, BF had already made two different doctor's appointments by 9:30 am.....This morning I heard her on the phone talking to her daughter, mad at her and grounding her, but acting like she was her daughter's friend instead of her mother, like they are equals.

The State of the Union


I believe that this is the main cause of the problems we have with America's youth at the moment. They are not our equals. They are not our friends. We are not the same. Become equal to me and then we will be the same. Pay your dues.

Treating your children that way leads to an overall sense of entitlement.

That being said, I also believe that a sense of entitlement is the root of America's unrest today.

It's a vicious cycle, isn't it?


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Beauty


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