TUESDAY LEDGE DAY. Yet another one. *SIGH*.
I really thought that a weekend of fun and MAYHEM would help me find my passion for the craft. Nope- but I did find a guy who called himself MAYHEM. A 6'9'' skinny kid who rapped like no white boy should ever rap on stage. Truly embarrassing. Young girls threw themselves at the oaf, thinking he was a part of the band. A local Philly band that is really good. I know them so the OMG factor isn't there.
Even when I was young hottie I didn't throw myself at bar bands or anyone for that matter. Nor did my friends. Not our style. We were just too damn cool for that. (In our heads anyway.)
We were too cool for Jersey this weekend too. We are TWEENERS. Too old for the clubs we used to go to and too young for the ELKS club. WTF!
What in tarnation was I thinking that I would find my inner scribe at the Jersey friggin' shore. I love the place but we partied. Partied hard.
Pool bar all day, bar in our place in the evening, actual bars at night. Me poor achin' liver. We danced, shook our tails, laughed, I mean really laughed so hard our stomachs hurt. We got chased off the beach by WILDWOOD 5-O. It was 3AM and we had a bag full of beer. Bonding and watching the stars. Barney Fife pulls up on his supped up golf cart. My punk friends scurry. No this chick. I mosey.
"Ma'am, is that beer in your cup?" Did this little shit call me Ma'am? He was maybe 21.
"Nope. Ginger Ale." I lie. What's he gonna do? Arrest me? Well yeah but that would have been funny.
We eye each other. He sees I've drawn the proverbial line in the sand.
"Well, either way you have to dump it." Kid has yet to get out of his little putt-putt.
"Right here?" I ask, real serious. Who am I to dump beer, oops, ginger ale, on the pristine sands of the Jersey Shore.
Does he know he's pissing me off? I raise my plastic cup and dump it out slow. Smiling. I am holding a bag full of unopened brews.
"Now, you have to throw out the cup too...Ma'am."
SOB, did he just read my mind? I was gonna wait till he left and fill my cup back up.
"Right here throw it out? I don't want to litter." A smile forms on my face.
"Yes, in a trash can." His little engines purrs as he speeds off.
I meet my friends who are waiting for me on the steps. They are bent over laughing.
One says, "She's baaack!"
But was I? I had fun, yes. My moxy was there. But when I thought about my MS, my query woes, I didn't have the energy.
Chatting with JAWS last night I was goofing around with my opening. Thinking long and hard about things. I may need to re-write stuff, tweak and move. I jotted a few things and sent them over to AJ.
Psst. Did you really read that above?
I was a little happier. Getting there. Slowly but surely I am getting my Charli back.
Thanks for sticking it out with me. I am not 100% but I am here.
Charli Mac, signing out.