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I Eat Pickles

I Eat Pickles

Sometimes I eat the wrong pickles
But you know, I really like them sweet
The looks of disdain from my friends
Shows how poorly I have chosen
But the pickles I eat are mine and mine alone
Go eat your own pickles if you feel so strongly

Furthermore, I like a lot of things sweet
There is no crime in sugar coating this world
I am not a bum for eating dessert first
Sweetness makes this thing called reality easier to swallow
And why wouldn’t anyone want to sweeten life
It’s filled with the bitterness of anger, denial, greed
The foul taste of jealousy permeates the air
So much so that people judge you for eating pickles
The news reads like a horror movie gone wrong
With images of murder, abduction, and rape
Served up by plastic smiles on barbie dolls
The sound of music becoming trite
As memorable as bubblegum on the bottom of my shoe
With themes so trivial that the size of my ass
Is the only real issue for the world to contemplate
By the way, the size of my ass is perfect
But you didn’t notice because you were watching me eat the wrong pickle

Did you notice that the government has removed your right to speak
While you were giving me shit for eating pickles
Somewhere there is a billionaire dictating the rest of your life
There is a prison cell being padded for your breakdown
An army of our brothers are coming to capture your freedom
Taking citizenship away from you
But you didn’t see the uprising of corporations
Distracted by a my jar of pickles

I may eat the wrong pickles
But I do not judge others for the pickles they eat
You may not find zesty and sweet to your preference
But do you know who won the Nobel Prize for peace
Not that any award is more than a popularity contest
Congratulations, you’re the prom queen of peace
And thanks for not blowing shit up this year
Is there a place safe from pedophiles and cyber-stalkers
And if there were such a safe place would anyone be there
But the pedophiles and cyber-stalkers looking for new prey
Will the media report about the cure for cancer
would such a cure be allowed to survive
Because there is no profit in a cure, only in suppressing the disease
Or do the designer shoes of a cracked out actor make the front page
Where does priority start and where does vanity stop?
But don’t mind me, I’m eating pickles

Are you fucking serious?
They are only pickles for fuck’s sake
So here we are, a world at war for things
As non-tangible as the name of God
And who’s getting to heaven first
Here I am eating the wrong fucking pickle


My Bucket O Awesome List

I've been reading a bunch of bucket lists. Now, I'm not here to say other people's life goals are not worthy. Everyone's goals are suited to each individual. Some though are very unimaginative. But in my world I want to make a list of creative and awesome things to accomplish before my death in my late 80's. Since I don't plan on dying a boring death then I will die when my walker slips while climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro dressed as a Hobbit of the Shire. I may continue to add to this list as I think of more awesomeness.

The list of Amy's awesome...

1) Dance my way out of tense fight situation. 

2) Take over a geek convention with my army of minions that all look like Joan Jett circa 1986 (I call them my Joan Jett Army) as my alter-ego Dr. Amazinglyfuckingawesome. Yes, we are super evil. When I say take over, I mean an army of Joan Jett's will invade an army of geeks. It will be epic.


3) Write my life story as a series of Mel Brooks style musical numbers and ahve it performed onstage in an major city. I'll call it, My Ovaries: The Musical.

4) Rollerskate in space. If that isn't possible in my lifetime I will comprimise by rollerskating on a Hollywood soundstage while wearing an authentic costume from Barbarella. Yes, I will scream, "Pygar save me." Often.


5) Organize a mythical roller derby bout. An exhibition bout between ancient mythological beings and ancient civilizations. First bout between ancient Egypt and Valhalla. Now jamming Hepskatesut vs. Valkyrie Thunder ...

 6) Have my mutant superpower come to fruition. I am hoping for some sort of shape shifting ability. (This is a direct result of growing up near a nuclear power plant)

7) Appear on The Graham Norton Show just for being some weird but surprisingly awesome American woman. I would be ecstatic if we could do a push button fart gag with a James Bond villain theme. I would be The Girl With The Golden Tits. If Graham won't have me then I will tour around the world with a Graham Norton on a stick taking pictures of him in compromising positions. 


What are you going to put on your bucket o' awesome list?


So in a few short months I turn 37. Seems like an innocuous number to most. But for some reason this number is hurtling at me like a meteor from space. It has been suffocating me in my sleep and haunting me in my waking hours. I haven't been able to wrap my mind around why until recently. 

37 is the age that my mother was when she gave birth to me. After years of trying.
37 is the age that my brother was when he died. After years of fighting.

Am I nearer to giving life or my own mortality? These are subconscious questions pounding themselves into my brain. This is why I am so freaked out about turning 37. What have I done in the past 36 years? Am I even worthy of all this worry? 

So to counter my fears, I am going to make 37 my glory year. It will be the year I become the perfect embodiment of the AMY of my mind's eye, the AMY of legend. So starting in February The Year Of Amy begins. I will make my mark on this age and make it an epic event. 

I will write something amazing. I will save lives. I will fall in love. I will have the greatest orgasm of my existence. I will dance ecstatically to my own music. I will travel to a place I've always wanted to go. I will face one of my fears, grab them by the balls, and throw them into a pit of poisonous snakes. I will conquer the year 37. 

This is my EPIC comeback to LJ.

<lj user=oneloveonelight> sucks.


Ramblings about love and shit

It's been a while since I've been on the LJ. I have had a lot going on and haven't really known how to write about it. So I've just avoided this whole blogging thing all together.

Recently I have been actually getting out there and making my presence known to the world. Or at least the small little world of Cincinnati and Covington. And the world has been pretty good to me. I am learning a bunch about myself and the dynamics of how I relate to others.

As most of the people in my life would attest to, I am not shy. But I am an extremely introverted person when it comes to relating to members of the opposite sex. Yet again, I am faced with my love issues. I am grown up enough to accept accountability for my own brokenness. I brought myself to this place. But the walls around my heart are beginning to tumble down. This is a good thing. I am letting men in a little bit at a time. It seems silly that I should be so closed off to the possibility of allowing someone to want me. So in that respect I have made a conscious decision to open myself up to that possibility. The rub is, when I am finding myself attracted to a certain guy, he invariably seems either emotionally unavailable or interested in everyone but me. That hurts a little, but I don't expect everyone to appreciate the complexity of me. I am more woman than the majority of men are willing to accept into their lives. Then when someone does show interest in me, I am not attracted to him. So I am spinning in circles on this new journey to let people in. I know all the cliches about love being a numbers game and there are plenty of fish in the sea... blah, blah, blah and all that bullshit. I want love, but it is almost too frightening to actually let my guard down long enough to allow it in.

In the whole accepting accountability for my lack of involvement in the world of relationships, lovers, flirtatious interludes, one night stands, and rendezvous I still feel a bit cheated by the fates. I have been very patient with the world around me. I know I withdrew from these activities voluntarily. But still, couldn't the universe throw me a bone? Or at least a boner? Is it my karma, my fate to be alone? Am I just meant to dangle out here in the cosmos a solo act? Or is what I want staring me right in the face and I'm too out of practice to see it? When those emotionally unavailable men I feel attracted to are around, are they actually seeing me the way I want them to? Or am I just a face in the crowd? I am so unaccustomed to the social cues of this mating ritual everyone around me seems expert at. Would I recognize it if he did hit on me?
Can I just say.... I HATE DRAMA!!

That is all.

My thought of the day.

I love who I am. I am exactly where I need to be at the moment.

Tweets for Today

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I ordered new glasses

They should be in on Friday. I can't wait. What do you think?
I'll upload a pic of me wearing them when I get them.

RIP Harvey

This news makes me sad. One of my all time favorite comedians passed away yesterday. 

I have such fond memories of watching the Carol Burnett Show with my dad. We would place bets on how long it would take for Tim Conway to make Harvey Korman laugh.