Frozen Metaphor Still Alive

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I’ve been gun-shy after offending hordes of friends in my “I hate MLM parties and fancy things” piece. I’m not normal, folks. I hate lipstick and large groups of people trying to make conversation when they clearly have nothing in common. I surmise that I will eventually live on top of a mountain. Alone. And kids will think I’m a witch and my son’s wives will turn them against me.  Joe will have died from some kind of stress-related disease that I somehow caused, which is a downer because I truly love the heck out of him.

The important thing is that I’m famous now. A neighbor of mine who works for Channel 7 News needed to interview people for a fluff piece on “not having air conditioning.” When he came to the door, I hadn’t showered in two days and Smith and I were inside eating ice cream sandwiches so I’m sure I had chocolate “bread” in my teeth from the viscous treat. I should have prepped. I had nappy hair, sweaty skin, and a zit.  I could have enhanced my looks. I could have done a lot of things but I felt I needed to let my Chotch flag fly. Smith was shirtless because he was hot from Soccer Camp (which he was kicked out of today for bad behavior) and I was hapless from getting kicked out of life. Aaaaand… action.
The news at 5 displayed a precocious boy standing on a pristine lawn with a terrific response to the reporter’s question.  His name is Landon and he visits his Grandmother a few doors down. Pan to the shirtless madcap named Smith standing on a pile of dirt exclaiming, “It feels like the pit of the earth.” Then he laughed uncontrollably. As if I had been waiting on my stoop for my chance at fame, I gracefully succeeded him with, “I don’t remember feeling this sweaty all the time.” We were brilliant… like the upside down smiley faced fireworks during the finale. Shine on crazy diamonds.
You, Crazy Diamond, are born to be. Someone. You may not be what your parents expected. You may not be fully dressed all the time. You may do as I did the other day and berate a grumpy old lady dressed like Paddington Bear who walks her vicious mangy German Shepherd by your house and tells you to “keep your dog on his leash” when you are in your yard. You may yell at her and say, “I’m in my yard, lady. Get off my lawn.”
Paddington called me a “piece of work.” Whammy. I wasn’t offended. Why? I am a piece of work. If not that, then I would be a  blank canvas.. a checked off list of things someone needed to buy. Whether or not a camera is in your face or all the windows are closed, you should be aware that your ugly will show no matter what.  You might as well show up “as is” and get it over with. I’m not saying it’s okay to yell at people or to allow your children to act like assholes. Do what you can to fix that. I am saying it’s not the worst thing to be an exceptionally out-of-order vending machine.  You might just want to keep all of the Fritos to yourself until someone comes with the correct change.  The rest can read the post-it that says, “Use at Your Own Risk.”
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