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Super Secret Agent Spy

I am a writer. First and foremost, I am a writer. I have my MFA/BFA in Writing the CK School of Authors Program. Right? He he he. After struggling for weeks to come up with something funny and witty, all I can say is that I'm a 34 year old, happliy married, unmedicated bi-polar II, living in Char...

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FREEDOM TUESDAY!

IT'S TUESDAY NIGHT! WHOOOOOOOOOOO! I LOOOOVE Tuesday nights! Virtually every night of the rest of the week my evenings belong to someone else. Rules, responsibility, plans, work, yadda, yadda, yadda. But honestly, that's o.k. I like it that way. . .because that makes Tuesday nights special! And tonight, is Tuesday night. So, I've decided to  present to you a rare glimpse of what my life is like when I have nothing to do and no one to do it with:

[*Warning - if you are the rare cave-dwelling troglodyte who does not appreciate fine sounds of Mr. George Michael, it's best that you leave. Now. Oh yeah!]

I won't let you dowwwwwn!
I will not give you uppppp!
Gotta have some faith in the souuuuund!
It's the one good thing that I've GOT-UH!
I won't let you dowwwwwwn!
So please don't give me up!
Cause I would really, really love to stick around, OH YEAH!

Tuesday nights at my house are not for the sophisticate. There are no glasses of syrah, no reading of books, no discussions of world politics or other cerebral items of interest. No. . .not at my house. Not on Tuesday. . .

Heaven knows I was just a young girl!
Didn't know what I wanted to beeeeeeee!!

(Didn't know what I wanted to beeee!!)
I was every little hungry schoolboy's pride and joy
And I guess it was enough for meeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!

(And I guess it was enough for meeeeee!)
To win the race? A prettier face!
Brand new clothes and a big fat place
On your rock and roll TEEEEEEEEEEVEEEEEEEEEEE!
But today the way I play the game is not the same
No way!
Think I'm gonna get myself happy

 As you peer through the worn (by design) cotton curtain at the back door, don't be surprised to see my little dog, Mu, be-bopping along while his mommy sings (caterwauls) at the top of her lungs into microphone made of Twizzlers. Oh, and you are not hallucinating. The dog really dances. And yes, I just took a bite out of my microphone.

I think there's something you should knoooooow-ah!
I think it's time I told you soooooo-ah!
There's something deep inside of meeeeeeeeee!
There's someone else I've got to beeee-eee!
Take back your picture in a fray-mmmm!
Take back your singing in the ray-nnnn!
I just hope you understand!
Sometimes the clothes shoes do not make the woman!

And I dance. And what a scary sight it is! Limbs akimbo, hips a-swivelling and, in this case, stomping down the "runway" (hallway) just like Cindy Crawford, Tyra, Linda Evangelista. And yes! My hair is full of product, standing a mile off of my head, bobbing as I *WORK IT* down the runway. What? Yeah, I did my hair about 20 minutes ago, using tons of Bed Head products, a back-combing technique, a hair dryer and gravity. I was hanging upside down when I did it. Whoooooooooo!

Aaaaaaaaaall we have to do now!
Is take these lies and make them true somehow!
All we have to see-ee-ee-eee
Is that I don't belong to you!
And you don't belong to me! Yeah! Yeah!

Make-up? No. I did it myself. I ripped an advert out of this month's Vogue. I didn't have that shade of electric blue eye-shadow, so yes, I used Tempera paint. No. . .I don't think it's dangerous. I mean, don't pre-schoolers EAT that stuff or something?

FreedommmmmmFreedommmmmm!
FreedommmmmmFreedommmmmm!
My FreedommmmmmFreedommmmmm!
You've gotta give for what you take!

Of COURSE I have cupcakes. I'd offer you one, but I ate them all before you got here. Well, all except for the one that MuShu got a hold of. But he only licked the icing. He didn't eat the cake. Ya want that one?

FreedommmmmmmmFreedommmmmmmm!
FreedommmmmmmmFreedommmmmmmm!
FreedommmmmmmmFreedommmmmmmm!
You've gotta give for what you take!

Hey. . .did you know that Twizzlers can be used as straws? Seriously. Here. Try it.

Alright, time for a costume change. Yes, these heels are four-inchers. Yup. I can walk in them. And no. . .I would NEVAH wear this dress out in public. EVAH. But within the confines of The House of Style, on a Tuesday night? I can wear whatevah I want. Here, put this on. Now you're in the fashion show, too! YES it's real. No, I didn't pay full price for it. I bought it off of e-bay, second hand. Now STOMP!

Well it looks like the road to heaven,
But it feels like the road to hell.
When I knew which side my bread was buttered
I took the knife as well.
Posing for another picture.
Everybody's got to sell.
But when you shake your ass
They notice fast.
And some mistakes were built to last!

Yeah. I'm sure I'll feel that way too, in about an hour. Eating all that sugar and guzzling Diet Coke can do that to a person. People who aren't refined in the ways of processed snack foods usually can't handle it. I'm sorry. I should've warned you. There are some Saltines in the pantry. Go have one. My house is your house!

That's what you get!
That's what you get!
That's what you get!
I say that's what you get!
That's what you get for getting sugar high!
That's what you get for getting sugar high!

Well, I suppose it's getting late and it's about time for this circus to end. It will take me at least half an hour to scrub off this make up and destroy all evidence of sugar-induced revelry. And I have no idea how I'm going to get this Marie Antoinette hairstyle to come off of my head. Maybe using Twizzlers as a ratting tool wasn't such a good idea. . .

And after all this time. . .
I just hope you understand!
Sometimes the clothes
Do not make the maaaaaaaaan!

 Awwww. No. I'm sorry. Each person is only allowed one admission to Freedom Tuesday per lifetime. Most people couldn't handle it more than once and, frankly, making "plans" on Freedom Tuesday kind of defeats the purpose of having "Freedom Tuesday" in the first place. First come the plans, then comes the stress of the anticipation of the arrival of guests. . .no. No. I'm sorry. Freedom Tuesday can never be allowed to have such constraints forced upon it. No. Spontaneity is the only thing required. Chew on that. Ha ha haaaaaaaa! Look, I’m sorry. I said no. I know it sounds like a good idea, to come back next Tuesday, but really, it isn’t. It’s one of those things like Communism. In theory, it sounds good. In practice? Not so much.

All we have to do now is take these lies!
And make them true somehow!
All we have to see is that i don't belong to you!
And you don't belong to me yea yea!

FreedommmmmFreedommmmm!
FreedommmmmFreedommmmm!
FreedommmmmFreedommmmm!

Yes! Freedom. It's what Tuesday nights are all about.

xoxo

Thank you, George Michael.

Thank you.