RUSTLING JIMMIES

My brain is busily organizing reality into a more palatable form.  Until it's finished, I'll just leave this here:

All you need to know about life, the universe, and everything.

<3 Tae

RUBY SOHO

"Pic de Rosu" by Anita Inverarity

When my mother was a little girl, her mother threw plates down the hall at her children and dumped out all their drawers when their socks weren’t matched up right.

When I was a little girl, my mother threw candles at me and had the quickest back-hand mouth-crack east of the Mississippi.

Now I’m old enough…hell, past old enough, to have had my first child.  I haven’t, due to my propensity for choosing boys over men, but there are still plenty of opportunities to discover that the maternal apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

Yesterday, I stared coldly at a ten-year old girl while tears tracked down her face and dripped off her nose.  I mocked her and laughed as she screamed.  Her pain and anguish were my vindication and I reveled in them.  Hearing her shriek “Mommy” over and over was just the beginning.