Pilgrim in the Trailer Park

 It is Monday March 16, and it is officially one year since I started this blog (Hooray (for me)) with a post called Rainy Days and Sundays, which looking back I’m not sure what that was about, other than at that time I was reading a funny book by Jerry Stahl about the holocaust (yeah. Don’t judge me or him) and trying to be romantic and funny, and it was a rainy Sunday, but I was trying to reference a certain Karen Carpenter song.  Are you already thinking, is this going to be long? (Maybe).  Because “I’ve been thinking too much” (twenty one pilots). About writing, and about my place in this world (and this trailer park. Got the trailer park blues), and why I practice this art that I’m not sure anybody reads (while you’re here you should browse our great selection!). Yeah, I just have that much integrity (maybe just the “grit” part). Sure. At Rehab we had to dissect the song Dog Days Are Over by Florence and the Machine. I’m not sure what that was about (my own dog days...

 We went to the Turn tonight to see the band, something we sometimes do on the weekend, cause we get bored and we like loud music and it’s right across the street. If you know Allendale, then you know that there are several bars in the area, two of which are in walking distance (I wrote a post about the Boat), and this bar used to be called the First Turn, then it changed hands and became the Turn, a name I like; John doesn’t (he says it’s unoriginal. If you’re going to buy a bar at least come up with a new name. I think it’s a nice homage). However, it’s a good music venue and the food is pretty good, and it’s outside…so we can smoke (I had to say it). We usually get cokes (I always wonder if John ever gets the hankering for a hard beverage, but he seems content with soda; but we used to get Long Island iced teas over there). Anyways, I am a coffee freak, and I’ve never ordered one there because I assumed they didn’t have it, and thought it would be a bother, and thought it would ...

 I am passionate about pancakes. It’s true. My dad jokes that I eat with my eyes (like I could read a cookbook and I’d be full), but I truly enjoy food. Especially now that I’m sober; might as well be fat and happy (but not too fat. I’ll settle for a big Spanish butt). I grew up eating pancakes. My old babysitter would make them with food colored smiley faces. Small children enjoy things like that (I wish I could go back to those days when a pancake smiley really made me smile). The flavor of a pancake was heavenly to me. I know it’s all syrup anyways (the more the merrier).  Hence I grew to like any bready breakfast food with syrup, like French toast and waffles, and learned to make them when I got older. At the bed and breakfast I worked at straight out of college, the manager made waffles literally every day. She had her own secret recipe that made them extra crispy and fluffy (I’m going to divulge: bisquik, ice water, and heavy cream. I tried making them at home…didn’t wor...

 It’s just a normal Friday. I woke up and smoked a cigarette, like I always do, made a pot of coffee, ate a big pancake, and…got my new jeans! Yes. I ordered them on the kohls website and picked them up in the store. This is kind of a big deal for me. Because I don’t have many jeans that I am fond of. In fact, I only have two: a pair of skinny legs that fit funny, and a pair of dark stretchy skinny leg, that I just loaned to a friend, which I got at the thrifty store and were my favorite (I don’t know if she’s going to bring them back :/). I used to have a pair of high waisted Vanilla Star skinny jeans with rips, but I got skinny and stupid and threw em in the trash. But I didn’t have any bell bottoms. John confessed that he thinks women’s legs look funny in skinny jeans, and that the bell look is much more flattering, and I agree. I thought that look was out of style, and that wearing bell bottoms made you look like a new age hipster or a tacky byproduct of the seventies (peace, l...

 I know I said I was quitting writing. Well, I lied. I tend to do that, and to also change my mind, cause I’m a woman, and we’re diabolical.  Not to say I’ve lied in my writing: I do tell the truth, and if anything is false it’s because I’ve exaggerated as part of my creative license (yes I have a license for that. How I got my drivers license I don’t know, but I am officially permitted to be creative. Thank god). And change my mind?…I do it all the time, evidenced by my multiple outfits throughout the day and numerous edits in my posts (only you wouldn’t know cause you don’t go back and re read them. But I have integrity). I only want the best (my names rhymes with best after all) and I’m only trying to be better, at the cost of forgetting the need to be better is to cease to be good. Didn’t I say I was diabolical? Anyways this is probably all related to my “addictive personality” (I don’t really understand that phrase, but I’m going to use it cause it works (okay I looked it...

 “Who do you work for?” You might’ve been wondering this, and the answer is: myself. I am my own boss. And she’s a bitch. Anyways, I wanted to give you an update on Bike Week, cause John and I like to frequent Main Street twice a year. It’s like our thing, sans alcohol; John is sober by association, lol (don’t blame me (I told you my boss was a bitch), the guy just doesn’t drink. I am blessed). It’s a weird thing for someone who used alcohol as a social lubricant (and lubricant in general. Life was very slippery), the former high school girl whose face turned red anytime a cute boy spoke to her. So I’m faking it until I make it, taking on some confident sober persona, and I don’t understand it, but I like it. You’ve come a long way baby (you’re in Daytona Beach!).  We parked on Grandview Ave, and walked several blocks to Main Street, because parking is tricky, and we won’t pay for it, so we do a lot of walking. I don’t mind, but it was chilly, and I wore my big winter coat wit...