what happens when the lights go out

Everything. Race car dreams and perfect makeup application. Good sleep punctuated by the dog kicking me in the stomach as he stretches. Russian snowfalls, walking in the mountains and a George Strait serenade come to mind as frequent scenes.

My thoughts are my own and I'm actually quite glad that my readership on this blog is zero. Any chance of someone else reading my words is quite threatening and a imposition on my personal feelings and not to mention my erractic blogging schedule. Things that I will never tire of but never admit to anyone else will always include:

I talk to myself on the toilet. Every time and usually in the dark.
I don't have a type of man that I fantasize about, but the ones I do think about have dark hair and eyes. Pat Riley comes to mind.
I hate my body and have rarely felt satisfied with it. For the first 25 years of my life I was way too thin and dreamed of gaining a few pounds. Now I can't be happy until I loose those five pounds it took me forever to gain. Be careful what you ask for. Sometimes I even want to shower in the dark so I don't have to look at myself. Not normal, I know.

What other thoughts are my favorite? Mountain climbing on red faced peak, wearing a peach silk gown on a fancy night or even wrenching on that sweet, sweet stock car high on the rack in a South Carolina garage. Who knows. Because of these thoughts and the tendency my life has to change at the drop of a hat, I can't give up on my life. I can't silence what is inside me that says, "Well, maybe the old girl has a little gas left in her tank to finish up this fucking race after all." God has much planned for me and has blessed me with a twisted, insecure, wonderful and optimistic soul that will keep on.

When the lights go out, is when I am free to be the person that I am most.