DON'T TOUCH

Howdy ho neighbors. Who the hell says that, anyhow? Nobody I know. Just...who....Mr. Rogers? I don't know.

Anyhow....I have jury duty tomorrow. That is really an interesting thing. I mean, we all love freedom, right? We all treasure our right to vote, right? However, when we go out to get the mail and we see a jury summons with our name on it, (well I'm assuming everyone is like me...maybe I'm wrong..) we suddenly have Tourette's syndrome and begin cussing like sailors. I was FURIOUS when I got mine. I have had jury duty so many times and never have I been chosen to judge. I would love to judge. Maybe that's why I've never been chosen. Plus, we live in a small town, so when I get local court summons, I get dismissed immediately because I know all the JPs. Bummer. Not.

My 20 year old son got jury duty and we all thought, "Come on, who would pick a 20 year old kid?" Well, those lawyers did, that's who. He had to be on the jury. He was pissed as hell and had nicknames for his fellow jurors. "Cranky old lady", "Bossy old lady', things like that. He wouldn't discuss the trial at all with us. He was very good and followed all the rules. When it was over, and he was allowed to talk though, he almost broke down telling me about it. He couldn't tell me all the details because it upset him so badly. It was a child abuse case, and he was completely unaware scum bags who abuse children exist. He didn't know there were YOUNG women out there with multiple children all with different "baby daddys". Now, he knows. He has more appreciation for what I do everyday, now. He will never be some ho's "baby daddy".

Let's see...what else is going on in my wondrous world? I discovered this AMAZING product. It's vodka, but see...it tastes like A CUPCAKE. Right? Your jaw just hit the floor, right? I know. It's fanTAStic.

Um, what else? Oh, next weekend we are doing this thing where you go paint and DRINK at the same time. Woo! Ought to be a hoot! It's going to be near my 29th birthday. (for the 13th time.)

I am still running like an effing gazelle, y'all. Every day. I keep thinking that if I go outside and run on the weekends, I will get better, but I just end up hacking like an old woman with emphysema. I have that weather related asthma. I never knew it existed. I have it, though, and I almost NEVER have it flare up. I had an inhaler but threw it out because I never needed it. I am a stupid, stupid woman.

I will stick with the treadmill. WAIT! I didn't tell you! This is so stupid. I was on the treadmill a couple of weeks ago, and I was running and my headphones were all jacked up, so I was effing around with them while I was running, which was colossally STUPID. So, I lost my footing, and sort of tumbled off to the side, but only half of my body was on the floor and the other half was still on the RUNNING TREADMILL.

No, I didn't have the safety thing clipped to me. That is for losers. How stupid is that? WHO DOES THAT? (People who don't fall and get hurt, that's who.)

Anyhow, the second my mind registered that I was falling, everything went into SLLLLOOOOOOOOWWWWWW MMMMOOOOTTTTIOOONNNNN.... I thought I could regain my..what...balance? dignity? Whatever...I thought I'd be able to just get up. Wrong. See, the treadmill had another idea, and we all know the treadmill trumps your strength of will every time.

So, there I am, flailing around with headphone cords flying, my legs twisting, my arms grappling to find purchase on anything possible to stop my rapid backward movement towards the large, hard wall. Well, I failed. Badly. The treadmill took me on a very short, very fast ride to Failtown. I slammed into the wall. BUT WAIT! That's not all! I was in a weird position, of course. I was sort of curled up and couldn't get uncurled because the damned treadmill was still chugging along up against my back. I could feel it getting ready to burn through my t-shirt and start devouring my skin, and I could feel my elbow disintegrating, so I began doing what everyone would do. I began screaming "HELP! HELP! HELP!"

It was very degrading, I have to say. However, it succeeded in bringing both of my sons and my husband and all three dogs charging into the room. My youngest burst through the door as if he knew this was going to happen, and in one motion, he yanked the safety clip out and the treadmill stopped. Every other living creature in the room was confused. I felt like a little kid who falls and scrapes their knee and it stings really badly and nobody understands how BADLY it stings! I wanted to cry, but I didn't, because I take far too much medicine to prevent that. I wanted to, though. I got up and started running again after we made sure I wasn't lacking skin on my back. That's right, bitches. I ran 6 miles after that. I had the "Rocky" theme in my head the whole damned time, too. That's a lie. I had a lot of Weezer and a bunch of Airborne running cadences piped into my ear via my Ipod.

I have narrowed down what songs I like to run to. Basically, I must be completely insane because I can run all freakin' day to any military cadence. Doesn't even matter what branch of the military it is. I do get a little insulted at the Marine ones when they smack talk the Army, though. I sang some Airborne ones to my husband and he knew them already which pissed me off. We had different words for the "C130 Rollin' Down the Strip" song, though. His was worse. I guess the real Airborne people are a lot more sure they are going to die than the people on the Ipod. There is no "Blood on the Risers", and I'm glad, he thought it would be good, but ummm..no.

At first, I hated those things, and I waited for a song to come on, but now it's the opposite. There are a couple of songs I can run forever to, but mainly, I prefer the cadences. Oh yeah! Oh yeah! That's me! That's me! I can run to Somalia, like this! I can run to Somalia like this! All the way to Somalia, like this! Seriously, that shit works.

Why I put Elton John on the damned Ipod for running, I will never know. "Tiny Dancer" just depresses the shit out of me. I like "Hot Mess", which isn't surprising. Most Rolling Stones work for me. I'm sick of the Sex Pistols because something happened one night with my phone which I plug into speakers so I can listen to my thunderstorm on repeat all night...and at about 4 am, "I AM THE ANTICHRIST AND I AM AN ANARCHIST!" came on. It SCARED.THE.SHIT.OUT.OF.ME. My husband never noticed. He just snored away. I was jumping up, yelling, "What???" and stumbling around in the dark trying to find my phone and shut damned Johnny Rotten up. So, after all these years, I am mad at the Sex Pistols. For some reason I have a couple of country songs on there. I must have been into the Cake Vodka when I downloaded those. I don't like country music and I sure as hell don't want it in my ears when I'm running.

I got rid of all the stupid "dub step" crap that was on a running mix. Who decided Rave music was good for a run? Some insane person, who has a brain ruined from designer drugs, that's who.

I have no immediate plans for competing in a race. Yet. I will eventually, because I want a shit ton of those racing bibs to hang up. Take that! I will say that every time someone comes over...'LOOK AT THOSE! TAKE THAT!" Sadly, nobody ever comes over. I can say it to my husband, though. Or the dogs.

OH! The title of this post, "DON'T TOUCH!" refers to something I will tell you about later. It doesn't refer to any trial or anything my son was at. No, it's worse. However, even though I teach writing, I didn't stick to my intended subject, and my usual stream of consciousness writing took over. Sorry. Can't help it. I would grade this an "F", but then I wouldn't care.

Toodles, bitches.