Monday Bear

So I just got back from my grandparents’ house in Mississippi. Whenever we went out in public, to everyone we came across, my grandmother would say, “This is my granddaughter. She come to visit us from Tennessee.”
“Great. We have more trees,” said the guy from the grocery store, who according to Gramma, couldn’t take his eyes off of me.
That made their… year, probably. Nobody ever comes to see them, which is precisely why I drove the 180 miles to go there. I got a big ego boost while I was there. Grandparents are always proud of their grandchildren. Especially when they live in Saltillo, MS. I’m going to college, haven’t been knocked up, I’m not on drugs, and I’m not fat.
That’s why Gramma kept saying that guys were looking at me. I doubt they were. I’m not attractive when I’m in Mississippi. Nobody is. The grocery store dude could have been looking at me for several reasons:

• I’m a stranger.
• I kind of look like my grandmother (red hair, gap in teeth, and huge ass).
• I was wearing Matt’s Mom’s shirt, which shows about 5/8 of my abdomen.

On my way there, around Corinth Mississippi, there was this guy who kept driving up to be level with my car, and he was looking at me and smiling. He had a praying hands tattoo on his right arm. I could see that because he was wearing a black sleeveless shirt. It was mildly flattering, because like I said, I’m not attractive in Mississippi. But I was wearing Matthew’s sunglasses. They hide alot. My eyes look very different when I wear makeup. When I’m not wearing makeup, it looks like I don’t have eyelashes, because they’re peach coloured.
I don’t find myself unnattractive without makeup. If I did, I would wear it more often. I just don’t find myself sexy or seductive without it (unless I’m with Matthew; he always makes me feel beautiful), but car- flirting is most often a result of the dude finding the chick “sexy,” not “mildly wholesome”.

Many guys (mostly frat boy type) wear sunglasses in photos. And no shirt. They’re ashamed of their face, but pleased to show off their bodies. I think that shows a lack in character. Or maybe I just overanalize things.

I had a rough time the first day I was there. Things felt really awkward between my grandparents and me. I guess I’m just used to seeing how Matt and Colleen are with Favee and Nana, and it was just kind of a shock to see that I’m not like that with my grandparents. It was really disheartening, but it was like I couldn’t escape, because I had no phone service out in the middle of nowhere.

By the way, this place is called Saltillo, but Grandpa Melvin calls it “sih-TILL-er”. But he also calls Grandma Linda “Linder”.

Anywho, I decided to write a plog… not a pooping blog, but a paper log. It’s a bit angsty, but here I go a-typin’ away:

I’m in my grandparents’ trailer in a place called Saltillo, Mississippi. Everyone here is dirt poor and Christian. I’m not sure how to act. Not to say that I’m better than them; I’m just very different. My step- grandfather asked me what an “internet” was. I can’t really understand anything that he says anyway. I’m laying in a feather bed. And crying, because this place is so lonely and different and depressing and I don’t know what to do with myself. I don’t know how to act.

Grandma and I used to make pies together. That was alot of fun. I want to do that again. Just because I’m old enough to drive myself up down heredoesn’t mean I’m too old to do the stuff we used to do. All they do is sit and watch TV now. Not even good TV.

Even though I’m laying in a feather bed, I’m so uncomfortable. There’s insulation hanging out of the cracks in the walls. The paisley- striped wallpaper (that, by the way, also decorates the closet door) is hung slightly crooked. The bed smells like dust. There’s a razor sitting on the heater. Fans are blowing, making things move about on their own, which is creepy when one is trying to go to sleep. Like dolls. Three of which are in this very room. They scared me when I was a child, and they scare me now. There are also two arrangements of fake flowers in this room alone. And lots of mirrors, so that when I move, my periphreal visioncatches it across the room.

I wish grandma would make me a dress.

I read five chapters of Steve’s book. Amazing story. It’s well- written, as well. He’s the best at imagery. The acknowledgement and dedication made me cry. He really loves Holly. Matt makes me things, but he never gives tehm to me. He throws them away, because they aren’t good enough. He should know that I cherish every Matt artifact I can get my hands on. Everything he does is perfect. I need him.
____________________________________________
Then I wrote him a letter. And I despise the word “cherish”.
“What did you say? I wasn’t listening. I was too busy looking at this other girl.”
- Matthew
Holly acted like she got her hair cut and dyed blonde, but she didn’t. It’s a wig. She’s just trying to get me back for the time I left a voice mail on her phone saying that I was pregnant because it was the only way to get her to call me back.

It worked, anyway.

Today at Gramma and Grampa’s, the guy came to work on the air conditioner, but he had to walk through my room, where my panties were laying in the middle of the floor.

Liz: The air conditioner guy saw my panties in the middle of the floor today.
Matt: Were you in them?
Liz: Yeah, and I was waiting for him.

I really should have said, “No, I was out of them, waiting for him.” It would have been more believable.

So in case you haven’t picked this up, my dear friend Stephen M. Outten has written a book called The Shadows Whisper. I’ve been reading it, and it’s excellent. You should definitely pick it up.

And trust me, I’d tell you if it sucked.

The lady at the pharmacy gave Matthew a blowjorb today. That’s how he gets free drugs. He lets the pharmacists give him blowjobs.

My poop hasn’t been the same since I got into Mississippi.  I only pooped twice a day there (it may have been due to my not being so comfortable, or it may have been due to the single- ply toilet paper), but it smells different now.  I guess it’s just because everything stinks in Mississippi.

I may be ovulating, but I’m not going to get into a big discussion about cervical mucous.

No, Alley Jo, I’m not. Seriously.

That said, my cervical mucous has been really…

…

…just kidding… boundries, you know…

Holly is fantastic. I’m so glad we talked today. She’s such a pretty, nice, funny girl. And she appreciates everything I blog about her, whether it be positive or negative. I don’t even have to ask her permission.

“I’m saving up to buy a ring. And by that, I mean I’m saving up all my food stamps to buy a cock ring.”
- Anon.

It wasn’t really said like that, but it should have been.

So in conclusion, the next blog may very well be a photo- only blog, as about 400 photos were taken tonight with my digital camera. I’ll give you an appetizer: Zoo Pals, cucumbers, and Puerto Ricans. Enjoy.

This entry was posted on Thursday, August 3rd, 2006 at 2:37 AM and is filed under Awkward Scenarios, Family, Nasty, Pooping, Secks. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.