Sorry, no can do (and other random thoughts)

The rest of the world may be eating vanilla pudding, but I don't want to. Tapioca suits me just fine and the lumps are part of the charm. Poke and stir you might, they refuse to be squashed into submission.

The concept of Political Correctness gives me heartburn. Bravo to those who can walk the straight and narrow path of properness and diplomacy. I prefer to wade and slip alongside in the muddy gutter of reality. It sounds a mess, but not so much, really. Once the stuff dries you just brush it off and move along.

My imperfect familial background has left me with a twisted soul and a warped mind. Even so, I am happy in my skewed self and have as little interest in altering the natural course of my aging body as I do in homogenizing my thoughts and memories to make them more palatable for public consumption.

Life's a crapshoot. People are flawed. Families all have their own individual recipes of screwed-upedness. There are gender differences. Biases exist. Prejudice is alive and well. We can't bury all of the imperfections of our youth. Just because something isn't acceptable now doesn't mean it never happened. We are not all good. Get over it.

Writing for Dollars has been an eye opener. I have discovered that I abhor selling myself. Nagging, unless it involves my kid and cleaning, is not my strength. The time I have available to tap out prose is limited, so I cherish the fruits of my labor. I expect the rest of the world to follow suit.

In the self-imposed madness of my life, hanging with the Yayas keeps the mortar in my bricks. All four of us brash, loud, opinionated and mildly crazed, we eat, drink, bicker and chortle our way through life's common travails. Spending time laughing like a hyena is proper medicine; don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

So, for 2008 and in line with the chest beating mantra of my children's generation, I'm gonna do what I WANT. Write what I feel in my own way. Stop editing my actual thoughts to fit a mythical audience. Keep expectations on the down low. Say what I think and know why I feel that way. Go with the flow.

I may end up crying me a river, but I will be floating down it in a boat of my own design.