"Tami-Turbo-Tangent-Totally" Fasten Your Seatbelts

So an hour ago I started out posting my repost from Facebook with regard to the uproar over legalizing gay marriage (I think. I only read 3 posts in from people ranting about the Supreme Court and gay marriage--hell for all I know now that I think about it they could have been in agreement or made it illegal. I merely know the people posting, will never make a change in our current government and just wish it all could work out so everyone is safe and happy). Somehow I went off as I reposted and made the mistake of proofreading.  No good ever comes of that.  Well no short post ever did anyway!  Hence blog page number 2 was inspired in the spirit of "staying on topic" on having the original idea get it's "day in the sun".  I say yay me for learning to keep on track and not confusing people to the point of idiocy, as sitting in a room full of "me's" would not be something one would advise without a team of psychologists, psychiatrists and someone from a de-escalation task force trained in "talking people down" present anyway.  We exited the other post for a new page on the note 


"Someday I will just link the blog in Facebook but it takes time."

and we are off to the races with the rest of my head and heart emptying on to "paper" sort of speak (being fully annoyed that I am now pausing for use of terminology in a sentence, spelling of words like seatbelt as my annoying spell checker wants me to believe it is two words when clearly Websters says the proper use of seatbelt is one word when referring to the thing that secures you in your seat, and my punctuation for proper effect in a sentence as I rarely use "action words" for describing things it's all about the placing of a comma that gets people pissed at me or I lose the desired effect of a description)

Somehow blogging seems like saying "I have something important to say, read me please, I am worthy" and I am so not there.  What do I know? Too much and not enough it seems, or too smart for my own good, possibly just too emo to put it all in usable form?  Mostly too critical of myself to just let it all go and too emotional to make easy sense of all I say.  Laughing at myself now thinking "what do you expect from someone who can write a proper sentence, use punctuation effectively, spells correctly for the most part and has a good grip on the English language and can type it all out at a 100 words a minute.  Put me in front of an English teacher and ask me to break it all down by verbs, vowels, adjectives and not use run on sentences then I am doomed.  Try to get me to do a whole page in the same person and not refer to myself 100 times in the 3rd person and will fail every time.  So there.  Someday I figure someone will find this here, share it somewhere and I will find a following, surely it will be people who A.)Felt any of the things I do and have always been afraid to tell anyone.  B.) Just never bothered to put it all out there like I do.  C.)Find me to need others to confirm my crazy as endearing and hope I don't ride off on a crazy train as they generally like being around someone who is honest, will jump in front of a bus for anyone at a moments notice and ask questions later.  D.) Have tons of free time and get my sense of humor.  Oooh ooooh (see what happens) I also do not proofread before I post.  When I go back and check my work on anything it only makes things worse.  I realized my best work is done subconsciously.  Somehow instead of adopting dual personalities, I suppose, I have just separated heart and mind.  While my heart was breaking my mind was working double time to pay attention to all the shit I would need to get by in life so I was left a babbling lump of broken heart and stuck at a minimum wage job all of my life.  As I write this (epiphany's are my stepping stones) I am now going to have to sit and ponder all the possibilities that could have made that determination for my life.  Why did I end up "like that" while others succumbed to the abuse and hurt?  Why didn't I just get angry and take on a life of crime and self destruction?  Why do I love and trust everyone so much as opposed to being hateful and alone?  Is there a God?  Are we all actually part alien from all the abductions?  Is the universe really like a bad Twilight Zone episode and we are little puppets with giants above our little dome controlling us? Do I end up listening to too much History and Sci-Fi channel shows thanks to my annoying husband who doesn't seem to love comedy and action movies like I do?  Possibly. The only freaky part is when I have ideas,  long before I see them on TV or the Movies, and the shows seem to confirm something I have thought or felt.  Then I wonder, if I will ever be the one, that says something prophetic and will I get to live to see it through?  It doesn't really matter to me.  Who am I kidding it does.  When your whole life is, in hindsight, lived hoping that fairy-tales do come true and Prince Charming does exist, and that never came true--and you have always been told to "make a difference" "don't be a waste of breath and space" and care for others so much, it would be amazing to be someone that a higher power could use to spare others pain and suffering.  To make it all "worth it" for all the suffering and loss.  To have it have been for a reason, to have mattered.  I am never going to cure cancer, or solve world hunger. Hell I rarely leave the house, much less the state, or country.  I have never been able to keep a savings account.  My life has been full of dreams. Until recently it had been full of aspirations of greater things.  Which slowly turned to a little hope.  Which was all backed up by working hard and being honest.  Willing to reach out and help anyone.  Always hoping for a miracle.  A winning lottery ticket.  That amazing job that paid so well (thank you Wendi==sister--for dashing that hope) or fluke that would allow me to travel. buy the finer things, and now more than ever to have a plastic surgeon on speed dial so I could stand to look at myself in the mirror.

and that rant will have to come to a close.  lost the momentum when I realized I had to move this to a new page due to content being completely off the subject of gay marriage and not wanting to lose sight of the importance over there.  The dog is snoring so loudly (Meathead, aka Schmootsypoo, Dashmutenpoop, Meatycakes our 150lb rescue)

I keep thinking it is something else, like the kids coming back from swimming--probably left an hour ago now---and I was supposed to be faxing documents so we could finally have medical and dental insurance that we so desperately need before the kids need dentures and my feet, calves have to be amputated.  So off to real life with a head full of something and heart full of the same.  Til I find quiet alone time again and a worthy cause gets me going, some moron breaks my heart or the evil in the universe prevails over me again at some unfortunate time--be well, hell live long and prosper and guess what---I can do the "Mork from Ork" hand shake due to an incident of being unsupervised while visiting my dad and the loss of tendon use in between my ring and middle fingers.  Who know Robin Williams and I could have probably had amazing conversations and that laughter isn't always the best medicine, however it is a good cover and acts like a band-aid until something rips it off.