I think they call it a freeway because people driving gas-powered cell phones should feel free to GET OUT OF MY WAY.
I think because I say something with confidence my husband/children/strangers should understand that I know what I’m talking about, even if I really don’t.
I think people can hear my Southern accent when I write swear words and they might think I sound ignorant.
I think people who are ignorant shouldn’t be the ones they put in front of a news camera to give an eye-witness account or be a spokesperson pretending to understand basic human anatomy and physiology.
I think just because someone is smart or pretty or rich or a good dancer or able to beat everybody at Scrabble or not burn the dinner rolls, that they DON’T have the right to be a jerk to the rest of us.
I think it would be great to be able to laser assholes right off the planet.
Thinking can make your head hurt. Not thinking can make your entire body hurt. I’ve said before that I’m an over thinker and have expected people to understand what that means. It occurs to me now that maybe a brief explanation is in order.
Even computers with Pentium processors need to power down from time to time to keep their mother boards from warping or whatever. My brain is no Pentium processor, but it could stand a little down time. It hardly ever stops in there, and while it isn’t cause for alarm, I do need to be more focused. Sure, I can make a split second decision to have a bag of Doritos and a sleeve of Girl Scout cookies for lunch. I can extrapolate subtle wit from mountains of bullshit. Unlike most brains however, mine isn’t a blob of grey matter. It’s more like a bowl of rainbow sherbet. Actually more like a trough than a bowl really. A trough filled with rainbow sherbet, nuts and sprinkles. Also swirling organ music, drunken carnies offering free rides on a rusted out Tilt-A-Whirl and wild panthers chasing feral hogs through a field of poppies.
Anyway, that is just an example of what I mean by over thinking. I think writing has been great for me and I’m happy with blogging as a means of connecting with other creative types, sharing photos from my travels and stories about people and places I love. I have to tell you though; I was wrong to think my BiG Fat Italian Anniversary trip was my reward for hanging in there for twenty years with my loyal follower. Nope. The trip was just a decoy. He had something else in mind.
Yep, now everyday is gonna be laundry day at Honie’s house! I could be wrong about that.