Lolliblogging

Sometimes when my mind is stretched all over the place my blog suffers. Posts about fashion usually get me through since everybody likes to take pause and lose themselves in aesthetic fantasy. But I desire more, which is why my mind wanders. Lately I've been feeling an inner tugging to pick back up poetry. I miss it. I've been reading Eliot and Bukowski, Poe and Plath here and there when I can catch some free time that doesn't involve the picking up of toddler debris. The trouble I find in starting it back up is the fact that I have people in my life now. People with opinions and feelings that may or may not be offended, hurt, puzzled or worried by what I write. The worst response I can get from something is an impromptu armchair therapy session. So I'm at a crossroads. Go for it and deal with the opinions or worse- unearth feelings I may have subconsciously quarantined. Or don't and feel like you're letting something die. Or do and feel like a secretive person.

I don't like my coffee with a side of dilemmas this early. But that is what's been on my mind lately along with job hunting, Jack rearing, spousing, maintaining social plans and friends and feeling guilty for not having a job, what I am or am not doing in the rearing of Jack, whether I'm screwing my husband enough and not answering my phone or returning texts.

So! If you get fluffy posts and picture laden inane musings it is because I'm desperately trying to figure out the internal conflict. It's because I want to do it all- be funny, be sexy, be a great mom, be a poet, become a writer, have a career, be fit, eat right, be fashionable...

Find your niche.
Find your niche.
Find your niche.


Or implode.


"Thoughts of a dry brain in a dry season..."

What Dreams May Come- Episode II

The last time I posted one of these, I found myself pretty amused by the way my dreams tend to play out.

Here's a real life, early morning conversation-

Me: I had a dream I had a pet baby dinosaur and he could kind of talk.
Greg: Really? What kind of dinosaur?
Me: Like a T.Rex hybrid or something.
Greg: What did he say?
Me: Well, he was sleeping in my bed, like a dog*, and then he was all "go potty!" So I let him outside. It was kind of cool. A dinosaur pet that is potty trained...
Greg: Maybe he represented Jack?
Me: Nah, because after he did his dino business in the yard, he climbed the neighbors fence and chased their cat.......maybe it DID represent Jack...


* I like how I specified that the dinosaur was sleeping in my bed, like a dog, in the event that one might assume I was having relations with a dinosaur. I can't go about my business knowing people may be thinking I fornicate with prehistoric creatures. I can't rest on that.