Ladies and Gentlemen of the Jury...
Who am I?
I am 5'6" tall ... and getting shorter every day - it is my secret desire to shrink away from sight. I am 49% bitch and 51% sweetheart – so don’t push me. I am a young, beautiful and vibrant woman trapped in an old, tired and out of shape body that I'm being systematically smothered out of every minute. I am shaken, then stirred. I am a daughter, sister, mother, wife, co-worker, friend ... and I am woman - hear me roar. I am a bacon bringing, office managing, dinner preparing, household running, child rearing multi-tasker with the will of a two year old and the attention span of 36 year old. I wear stress like a second skin and would trade my eye teeth for a snake's ability to shed it. I am a wannabe writer, singer and independently wealthy recluse. I grab life by the ass and either kiss it, spank it, change it, kick it or wear it as a hat. I am contents under pressure & handle with care. I put the ‘fun’ in dysfunctional. I am an emotional escape artist. I have a crunchy outer shell, a marshmallowy centre and I melt in your mouth, not in your hands. I am scarcely two dimensional one minute and overflowing the fifth the next. I am politically incorrect, inept and incapable of caring. I am the ‘other white meat’. I am a "pill". I am "poet laureate" to my own amphitheatre of idiots and "idiot laureate" to my amphitheatre of poets. I am smarter than a speeding bullet, furrier than a locomotive and able to leap tall sandwiches in a single bound. I live in certainty that I am the product of an immaculate conception. I keep a clean house, run a tight ship, have a balanced cheque book and lie like a cheap rug - several of which I own, incidentally. I am high octane, high maintenance, high and mighty and sitting on my high horse. I am squandering my existence all the while railing against the injustice that resides between the expectation of greatness and the life sentence of mediocrity. I am heaven and hell wrapped up in one glorious package of rose petals and razor blades. I am an impish spark and I shine through the fog of my sometimes dreary existence - until I don't ... and then in that chilly absence, I am a bathtub full of bubbles with a cold drizzle closing in. I am the fire, the ashes and the pheonix - the light and the dark and I make frequent apology for it all. I am equal to no one, living in constant shadow or glaring sunlight - neither of importance nor inconsequential.
All that is certain is that I 'am'.
I am 5'6" tall ... and getting shorter every day - it is my secret desire to shrink away from sight. I am 49% bitch and 51% sweetheart – so don’t push me. I am a young, beautiful and vibrant woman trapped in an old, tired and out of shape body that I'm being systematically smothered out of every minute. I am shaken, then stirred. I am a daughter, sister, mother, wife, co-worker, friend ... and I am woman - hear me roar. I am a bacon bringing, office managing, dinner preparing, household running, child rearing multi-tasker with the will of a two year old and the attention span of 36 year old. I wear stress like a second skin and would trade my eye teeth for a snake's ability to shed it. I am a wannabe writer, singer and independently wealthy recluse. I grab life by the ass and either kiss it, spank it, change it, kick it or wear it as a hat. I am contents under pressure & handle with care. I put the ‘fun’ in dysfunctional. I am an emotional escape artist. I have a crunchy outer shell, a marshmallowy centre and I melt in your mouth, not in your hands. I am scarcely two dimensional one minute and overflowing the fifth the next. I am politically incorrect, inept and incapable of caring. I am the ‘other white meat’. I am a "pill". I am "poet laureate" to my own amphitheatre of idiots and "idiot laureate" to my amphitheatre of poets. I am smarter than a speeding bullet, furrier than a locomotive and able to leap tall sandwiches in a single bound. I live in certainty that I am the product of an immaculate conception. I keep a clean house, run a tight ship, have a balanced cheque book and lie like a cheap rug - several of which I own, incidentally. I am high octane, high maintenance, high and mighty and sitting on my high horse. I am squandering my existence all the while railing against the injustice that resides between the expectation of greatness and the life sentence of mediocrity. I am heaven and hell wrapped up in one glorious package of rose petals and razor blades. I am an impish spark and I shine through the fog of my sometimes dreary existence - until I don't ... and then in that chilly absence, I am a bathtub full of bubbles with a cold drizzle closing in. I am the fire, the ashes and the pheonix - the light and the dark and I make frequent apology for it all. I am equal to no one, living in constant shadow or glaring sunlight - neither of importance nor inconsequential.
All that is certain is that I 'am'.
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