Everybody Has One

So I went to visit my Mom this past weekend. (BadBoy & I left on Friday and came back yesterday.) She's doing well. She's looking good too. =-)

Her husband, Millionaire Man (MM) is still the same. Can't remember if I've posted about him before, but let me just sum him up like this:

He's a great guy... as long as you sit and listen to his stories (no matter how many times you've heard them), don't interrupt him, laugh at all of his jokes, and don't disagree with him.

Anyway, MM is writing his life stories. He can't even tell a story out loud without messing it up, like when he's. But then he just goes into the next. And then, well, never mind.

That's sort of how he talks, so I can only imagine how fucked up that book of life stories will be. But it keeps him busy. And he does it every day, so I did at least get to have a few minutes each morning with my Mom without having him having to be the center of attention.

But it got me thinking... Everybody has their own stories, and everybody wants to be heard, you know? I guess that's why this Blogging shit is so popular! People just want to have their side listened to.

Or maybe there are those who want to be listened to, and those who want to listen. There are plenty of people who blog EVERY day. Now *they* want to be heard. Me? I don't really think there's that much that I have to say that's *that* important...

So that's probably why I don't blog that much.

It's not that there's nothing in my head! 'Cause I have conversations with myself in my head all the time! Don't get me wrong.

I just don't think there's anybody who'd be all that interested in what's in my head.

So I follow all these blogs, and I have another blog that's my "polite" blog, and I follow lots of blogs on there (way more than I follow on this one!).

So why don't I share whatever's going on in my head and life like everybody else?

I don't know.

Even BadBoy asks me why I don't talk to him!

I mean, I talk to him, just not about every little thing that's going on up in my head.

And for SOME idiotic reason, I cannot talk to him much about sex.

WHAT'S THAT ALL ABOUT?!?!?

I don't even pretend to know.

And the sad thing is, I don't know how to change. I try.

...

Wow! I changed the subject without even realizing it, and spewed a bunch of shit before I could stop myself! Sorry 'bout that!

I started this post to talk with you about how everybody has their own story, and how they just want someone to listen to it...

I think I need to go do the laundry.

And cut, bread & freeze some okra.

And clean my bathroom! I've been avoiding that...

By the way, that's my beautiful Mother up there, in a photo from 1956 when she was just twenty years old. And that means she's 73 now. And she's still beautiful!

p.s. Vodka Mom? I hugged her once for you.