Today I am thankful for family history.
My aunties told me that my mother wanted me to be this....
blonde.....blue eyed.....sweet....like the song.
Well, the song pegged my nosiness.
I am nosey.
That's about it.
Um.........
I wonder what she thought when she got a redheaded child that looked just like her!
What was she thinking??
I wouldn't have thought that.
They got it right with the next girl. They named her Ginger.
She was blond as a child.
She wanted to be a movie star....just like Ginger on Gilligan's Isle.
She's got red hair now.
Ginger fits her.
She's a sweet person, like a ginger snap.
I wear my red hair as a warning label.
********
When I was growing up, my parents sang me this song....
They were alcoholics. My mother was murdered four years after this song was released.
I'd rather have a glass of worms than a glass of tequila. I hate alcohol.
I only drink it in honor of Dionysus.
I'm selfish. I horde clothes and this song may be the reason I'll never share my red satin dresses with any man.
I feel naked without a gun.
No dealers scare me.
It's not squealin' if its the truth. The world could use a tad bit more truth. Things would make more sense that way.
If you can't face your own demons in your own skin, you're a coward.
Cowards don't get to raid my closet: They would be too chicken-sh!t to walk in my high heel shoes.
I don't like it when I'm forced to let cowards live in my house.
*******************
Since high school, I hear this song too much......I'm still serenaded with it once in a while.
Sigh....
Jersey boys with fake British accents make me giggle.
The song would have been perfect if they'd just have kept it real.
The bass line hops a bit and makes me long for my mid-eighties five string Steinberger.....
It was donated to a public school. I got rid of it when I began a stint of homelessness. I didn't want it to warp in the cold.
Maybe I'll tell you about it sometime.
I guess I did something nice for the government...once....
Sigh.....
If there was a song that resonated with me, it would be something like
"Give 'em hell, Sheila."
Maybe I should write that.....and keep it too myself.
I could hum it as I go for the throat of bloated organizations.
Nah, I'm too busy.
I can make that a personal affirmation.
Today and everyday I shall give 'em hell.
My ability to give them hell grows stronger by the day, stronger by the hour and stronger by the minute.
Hmmmmm.....that doesn't suit me.
I tried.
*******
Seriously, the only good thing about my name is that I usually introduce myself as "girl."
No one forgets my name.
"Hi. I'm girl in Australian."
It's funny.
I'm not sweet. I'm not sexy. I don't have booze.
I have several red satin dresses. You're not allowed to wear them.
I sleep with weapons.
I'm mean.
It's cute my aunties think I'm sweet.
At least they'll never hear me say 'sit and spin.' I just have a mind trick that makes suggestible people spin in their chairs.
I didn't know this until recently - but smirking makes you wrinkle.
I now have a smirk wrinkle that I'm trying to smooth out.
I'm eating more jello and smearing allergens on my face and following them up with various acids.
I'll let you know if it helps my vanity.
I even give my wrinkles hell.
******
It's okay to be a hellion heathen.
I think all sheilas should give society hell.
Life is not fair for the ladies.
We women have to stick together.
You know....it's not fair for most men either.....
so....
if the blokes want to join in, that's okay, too.
Cheerio,
S.
Edit:
My real last name is the name of a Scottish Saint.
Maybe I should invoke him and ask him to help me help the poor and put bad judges in their place.
If it works, I'll join his cult....
well, maybe not.
I don't think Maenads are welcome in Catholic circles.
Okay, okay.....I'll stop being a self-absorbed cunt.
I have to remember the brat that I've always been so I can channel her rage to take on a few asshats.
I have to remember that I chose this incarnation for a reason.
Maybe this is why I'm living in hell.
I'm supposed to make it more tolerable.
Love ya,
S.