This is the story of an ordinary woman's life in the slow lane. One of my heroes was Erma Bombeck and I always thought I'd write a book like her. I decided to write this blog instead. It is meant as much as a diary for myself as it is a soundboard to the world for every little thing that is in my head. When you read it make sure you hear my sarcastic Chicago accent. Hope I make you laugh, cry and everything in between.
After so much suffering, if someone asks us "Aren't you getting a bit carried away?" Why don't we just go ahead say "Why yes I am and thank you for noticing." Awaken my friends. Buy a bright pink purse instead of black or brown and stuff it full of all the things you cannot live without. Run away from home, like I did 30 years ago. Just get on a Greyhound use with a white suitcase and good for nothing musician with a penis and mustache.
What I didn't realize was my mama snuck her broken heart amongst my cigarettes and strawberry lip gloss. I can still smell the sulfur when I strike a match. My own body odor after three days with no shower.
What I didn't realize when I look in the mirror, I see the green eyed beauty who has been running away ever since.
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