If Bloody Mary can Survive than so can this Blog...
The best way to describe it, I guess similar to a recovering addict, because o' blog you are always on my mind. You are there when I wake up in the morning to a sugar and rice krispy covered floor, child perched on the kitchen table eating her breakfast while watching DC Cupcakes and I want to share that "crunchfooted" moment with the cyber world. And again later in the day when I am in the car driving, reach to open up a "box" of chewing gum, it explodes and I am covered in powder and 1 inch cubed shrapnel. I curse, lean down between my feet to grab a piece and nearly miss an relatively big man walking his little tiny Yorkie. And while I am at it, hey Wrigley's (just because we carry suitcases instead of purses these days, it does not give you the right to increase the size of a pack of gym to an obnoxious 3 inch box). I'll tell you what, just bring back Fruit Stripe, make the flavor last longer and I will forget the rest.
It may not seem like it, but I do drop in now and again write a few notes here, a few ideas there then like the recovering Uncle Joe I disappear for weeks, heck months at a time...I know I need to write more, and I will. Big changes are ahead for the Cheese Factory. We are closing down our doors in the good ole U.S. of A and heading to the Pacific where labor is cheap but manicures are NOT. But that my friend, is another post altogether.
So what really prompted me to write today was a visit from a long lost friend. A gal who showed up at my 10 year olds slumber party last night..."Bloody Mary." Where in the hell have you been you scary, menacing B**ch all these years? I would have thought that you were way retired; hanging out with your Ouija board in a nice little mirrored hut in the South Pacific. But I guess things are tough even for old wives tales. Let me say your unwelcome attendance in my downstairs power room caused one little girl to go home, props to you Mary, you haven't lost your touch old gal.
I do have to admit it was MUCH better seeing you again as an adult. But next time you wander into my bathroom, would it kill you to bring something with you to the party. Maybe a little "Light as a Feather, Stiff as a Board, Hard as a Rock."