Caffeine and Nicotine

Still the same day, only a few minutes later, even. I've decided that the word "procrastination" is no longer a part of my vocabulary. Everything I do, I do for a reason. As a practicing Buddhist, (and I do mean practicing) I've changed my frame of mind. At the moment, I am just thoroughly enjoying the moment. I am living in the NOW. This chair feels very nice beneath my ass. This cigarette hanging out from between my lips tastes wonderful. I am pleased with the feeling of my thoughts flowing from my mind out of my fingertips onto this keyboard. Although I just realized that I am drastically low on Mt. Dew, I'm not going to let that bother me. I'll enjoy what I have until it's gone. Ommmm. Which should be approximately 30 seconds. For those of you who don't know me well, ah who am I kidding---I don't know me very well--, but this is pretty common knowledge, I live on caffeine and nicotine.
Caffeine and nicotine, caffeine and nicotine, caffeine and nicotine. It's quite difficult to get out of bed without the benefit of at least one, if not both. My favorite forms of delivery? Mountain Dew and Kentucky's Best. Many of you may not know this, but other than having the most caffeine of regular sodas (that means not including "energy drinks"), the 3rd, let me repeat that, THIRD ingredient listed on the Mt. Dew label, is ORANGE JUICE!!!!! Do you realize how incredibly healthy that makes it? For real! Think of the vitamin C I get every day. Let alone the other healthy stuff in oranges. (don't press me on this right now, I don't feel like getting up and looking it up, but I will if I have to)
And my beloved cigarettes. For years I was a fool. I had been brainwashed, secretly addicted, and totally under the influence of the evil monster known as Phillip Morris. Do you have any idea the shit they put in their cigarettes? It's pretty crazy. First of all, Camel acts like it's some great thing that their cigarettes are made out of Turkish tobacco. The fact of the matter is, that Phillip Morris, R.J. Reynolds, et.al, sells all the good American tobacco overseas. Then they import the cheap shit that they won't smoke over there. It's all made out of stems and dust and "puffed tobacco" and "reconstituted tobacco". They also contain any of more than 500 chemicals, including arsenic, ammonia, pesticides, the same chemicals used to make car batteries, paint stripper, lighter fluid, and mothballs. Granted, smoking is not healthy at all. I know that even my beloved Kentucky's Best contain nicotine, create carbon monoxide, nitrogen oxides, hydrogen cyanide, and ammonia, but comparatively speaking... If you are a smoker, or if you are just interested, please visit the website for Kentucky's Best .
They are a way cool company. Their cigarettes are made from tobacco grown by a co-op of small family farmers in Cynthiana, KY. Anyway, I feel better about it all. And believe it or not, my lungs feel better. And they are cheap, and they taste good!
Do you sense my fabulous talent for denying and justifying? Me? Surely not.
I need to do something about this Mt. Dew situation right now.

Procrastination

Procrastination, procrastina-a-a-tion it's makin' me late....keepin' me wai-ai-ai-ai-aiting... No, that was Anticipation, wasn't it? Procrastination is something that I supposedly have control over, right? So what exactly is it that I'm putting off? How about everything? It's just kinda one of those days I guess. It's 2:02 p.m., and I just realize that I haven't even taken my morning meds yet. Hold on.....Woo-hoo, score one for Missa! I just accomplished something!!!! And, to my credit, I am dressed. And not in the same thing I slept in. So what all should I be doing, in this totally non-interesting life that I admitted to in my first post?
Well, there's always housework--right now quite a bit of it, as I had the stomach flu last week, for like 7 days, and did absolutely nothing. So the house is pretty gross. I need to type up the minutes to the Peaceworks Steering Committee meeting that I attended on Monday. I didn't volunteer to take notes, because I'm really crappy at things like that. But the gal who did, left before the meeting ended, handing me her pathetic excuse for notes, for me to finish.
I also need to write a new article for the Peaceworks Monitor--the newspaper that the peace organization I'm involved with puts out. The issue is dedicated to nuclear power---an issue very close to me, like 12 miles away. This is where the only nuclear power plant in the state of MO is, 12 miles away from my home. And, the power company is "seriously considering" building another plant at the same location. I am responsible for writing a piece called Nuclear Power 101: How it Works. Well, I wrote that article, or so I thought. But actually what is wanted is a piece about how a nuclear power plant works. The article space was way too short to have actually gotten to that. Apparently not many people want to read about nuclear physics--fission, etc. Oh well. What else should I be doing today?
Oh, yes, practicing. Yet another obligation that I volunteered for. The same organization is having a Hiroshima Day memorial get-together, and I volunteered myself and husband Lee to play music there. (but only after it was obvious that they were getting really, really desperate) Not that we aren't good, it's just that I feel the need to learn some new material for this event. We mostly play bluegrass. It's fun, but I want to do some political, anti-war type music too. Until now, the only anti-war music in our repertoire is from the Civil War.
Anyway, I can always use practice, especially my singing......or whatever you want to call it. I think we can come up with a really kickin' version of Black Sabbath's War Pigs. I can totally hear Lee's banjo just whalin' on that bitch. Of course, that means I would have to sing it. Sigh. Not that I don't like to sing, I love to sing....it's just that not a lot of people can deal with hearing me do so. Practice, practice, practice.....
Generals gathered in their masses.......just like witches at black masses.......

Right Back Atcha!

So....I planned to start this blog about a month ago, then had some issues with not being able to see the photo I posted. (I still can't see it, but Scuzzy can, so what the hell?)
Why am I writing a blog? Do I have such a fascinating life that I think the world would love to read about it? No, probably not. I can't imagine the person that might have a less interesting life than I. But my mind is pretty interesting at times.
Anyway, the real point is that me best friend, Susan, Scuz, Sez-body, Scuzzy, Squeezle-Scuzcawich, has started a blog, as she is getting ready to move away to start graduate school. Her blog is supposed to be a way to keep her hubby, et. al, updated on her life. In her first post, she talked about not knowing if she would have anything to say. Yeah, right. The day that one of us has nothing to say will be the end of the world.
So, I'm not running off to Wisconsin to get a Ph.D or anything. I'm just maintaining my pathetic little life here in small-town Missouri. If I can blog, so can she!
So, RIGHT BACK ATCHA, BABE!!!