Pick me.

Inside of every one of us there is an insecure little child, standing on a kickball field, terrified that they are going to be the last one chosen. Or not chosen at all.

I was the one that wasn't chosen.

They would make excuses like they needed someone to be the cheerleader, or the "assistant" referee. Or having one extra on the team wouldn't be fair to the other team. If I had a dollar for all the excuses, I would have had enough money to hire a hit man to give all my enemies the wedgies and noogies and cooties they all deserved.

What does this little anecdotal story have to do with anything, let alone the fact that I haven't blogged in a damn coon's age? Not a damn thing.

Or everything.

Cause my life, as of late, has just been downright complicated, yo!

Lately? I have been battling friends, friends issues, friends relationships, family issues, car shopping for my mom, tonsillitis for the Punx, trying to get my business off the ground, health issues, heart issues, matter of the heart issues, friend's matter of the heart issues, friend's heart issues, friend's health issues, whole muthafucking subscriptions, and a vacation to the Florida Keys.

Plus I have been trying to teach myself how to play a harmonica. And when I get that down pat I am going to complicate it by trying to play a ukulele at the same time...as soon as I also teach myself to play the ukulele.

I'm suffering from Disney withdrawals. BAD. To the point that I may even be typing this all while wearing a princess costume. Maybe. Possibly. Probably. OK...I am.

I've had many new friends come into my life, and with them all of their drama and stuff. I have had old friends grow so distant that it took me 45 minutes this morning to remember one of their names.

Life changes. And it gets busy and complicated and sticky and yucky and sad and lonely and if I don't get a visit to tropical island with my very own sex slave soon, I am going to erupt. Or explode. Just call me Mt. Lakanuki.

And of course, it never fails. Whenever I actually sit down to write a blog, even if no one has bothered me for 4 hours, I end up with 16 interruptions, 4 phone calls a couple of text messages and spilled coffee on my keyboard. I guess it serves me right for drinking coffee at 5 in the afternoon.

So that is what has been going on. If I break it down it would be about 100 blog posts. But most of them would make you cry. Or need medication. Or alcohol.

I'm trying to find the humor and the snark in my everyday and it just seems to be a little lacking, lately. Sorry about that. No one can be happy or perky all of the time. I know people that would punch me if I tried.

Punx is going through medical stuff. FCB is miserable and hating his job, but glad he at least still has one. I am up to my ears in chainmaille trying to get ready for a festival in October. I am debating homeschooling because my daughter is not normal enough to be Stepford-Stamped-Approved and not special enough to wear a bedazzled helmet and lick windows. (That wasn't meant to offend anyone, and if you are offended, then I suggest you turn off your Internet, TV, radio and lights and hide in a dark closet for the rest of your life because I'm going to let you in on a secret: The World is a mean and nasty place that will eat you alive and shit you out before it crushes you under its heal.) (And no, I am not bitter. Much.)

Where was I?

Homeschool. We seem to be doing well at it. I send Punx to the little red building for socialization. She cries before she has to go and is excited when she comes home and has had a lot of fun. Then she will do school work at home all on her own without prompting, and then cry herself to sleep because she doesn't want to go to school the next day. I hope and pray every day that she will find a friend. So far that hasn't happened.

I also hope that kickball has been abolished.

So far that hasn't happened.