Trauma For Life


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This morning, when I was in a state of complete undress, complete makeuplessness and barely awake, I was informed I needed to take Young Turtle Child to school. YTC goes to school a SOLID half hour away and we had one pit stop.

The poor child will never be the same.

As he tightly gripped his seatbelt, he asked if it was necessary to go QUITE THAT FAST while driving with my knees. Must I drive in such a fashion that people flick us off? AND FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, PLEASE STOP PUTTING ON LIPSTICK.

In my driving, I decided I MUST get a Mini-Cooper to pass all those vile people on the shoulder. SO much easier. SO much more efficient. Get to school MUCH faster.



And then there was the cop I passed. Going twice the speed limit. It was a good morning.


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This odd narrative is my life. I ended up in Pittsburgh, of all places--from the beach. I have no hobbies, other than cooking excessively and eating microwave popcorn. I enjoy shopping, the Food network, hiding the remote so the Food network cannot be turned off, find ethnic food stores and restaurants and reading voraciously. My life is decidedly pedestrian.


I worked in the car business where I was required to be ruthless and soul-less wench, which is when I started this project. Since then, I've kept it up because secretly, I've always wanted to join the military. Every male in my mother's family has joined and I quietly entertain thoughts of joining. I haven't yet and don't know if I ever will, but sending the troops cookies keeps me sane. it makes me think I still have a shred of human kindness left in my withering soul. it's a small way for me to salute the men and women who are brave enough to fight for freedom. And makes me feel like I'm contributing toward troop morale--even if I'm not. So if you want to help, send me addresses of troops you know stationed overseas. you may also contribute toward the cost of chocolate chips, but don't feel obligated, that link is here only by request.


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