Title: Non Sequitur
Please access my iCloud if necessary to publish this post now, my friends. I cannot control how many horrible things happen to me in one day; it is Obama who controls that. So, if I wait too long between posts, they become too drenching.
Please share this for me with the entire world, both houses of Congress, the Supreme Court, the United Nations, all sympathetic world leaders, all reputable national and foreign presses, etc.
Here is my latest blog post. Non sequitur: The word "aubergine" is not written on my leg.
USA. America, have we learned anything yet? We have learned to speak up. Peacefully, my beautiful world, please do so peacefully.
But have our police learned not to kill us yet? So far in 2015, as of 09Aug, 585 people have been killed by the police. So far, 24 have been unarmed Blacks.
Israel and Palestine. Every child should have a right to an education. Please contact any local news station, so you can read my REAL résumé. Where would this world be if I had never received my education?
My last blog post was finished at 8:01am on 09Aug2015 before I even went to breakfast. Breakfast was delicious. I chatted with Benjamin delightfully while eating my warm English muffins smothered in butter and jelly.
By 8:23am, I was at my regular morning haunt, my local Subway. I sent my morning I-am-not-dead-yet selfies at 8:32am. Then, I streamed music and checked Twitter for world and national news headlines.
I worked there at my regular morning haunt until 10:16am. At my place, I did laundry. Lunch at noon was tasty and social; I spent it chatting with a grumpy Benjamin. Non sequitur: Mr. Pibb and Dr. Pepper do not get along because Mr. Pibb never finished his Ph.D.
I took a nap, and then Hannah joined me that day. By 3:54pm, we were already on a bus to my playland, the Santa Monica 3rd Street Promenade.
We had already walked up and down the Promenade and up and down the Santa Monica Pier by 5:41pm when we perched next to a couple of musicians. Hannah was not feeling well. So I walked her to the bus stop, and she left at 6:06pm.
On my way to grab a cup of coffee from Handsome, I found they whom I refer to as The Age Inappropriate Boy Band. Giggle. They are ages fourteen to nineteen, have huge crushes on me, and call themselves The Christopher Brothers.
I got my coffee then gave a Rated PG dance. I only go as far as PG-13 on a metaphorical date night. LightFoot knows that well.
The three brothers were such darlings. I could tell they had been working on their harmonies. I liked what they did with their music. They guys stopped at 7:41pm to relocate. On the Promenade, the acts have to move every two hours.
Non sequitur: Stop pretending you can aspire to know what goes on in my conscious mind, and when I sleep, love me for sharing.
At 8:05pm, I streamed the NBC Nightly News from previous in the evening. My nightly cyberhug came from my darling Mr. Willie Geist that Sunday night. It was wonderful.
I stopped to chat with Handsome(Roger) at the Famima before sitting next to the teenage musicians again at 9:12pm. I had writing to do, and I work best with live music.
After the music ended for the night, I caught the 10:15pm bus. I was curled up and asleep by 11:30pm.
When I woke up on Monday, 10Aug2015, I had slept through breakfast for the first time. But I was still at my regular morning haunt at 9:29am. I streamed music as fast as possible and sent my I-am-not-dead-yet selfies.
At 9:56am, I went inside for a cookie. My music randomizer started playing Nirvana when I stepped outside. It was a good day.
Non sequitur: I am a Misses 14 dress size because all of me is larger than life.
I had a delightful conversation with a local music teacher until 10:43am. Then, at 10:50am, Benjamin joined me. I worked there at my local Subway online until 11:41am.
Lunch at noon was tasty yet uneventful. I napped in the afternoon before chatting with Benjamin over dinner at 5pm. By 5:44pm, I was on a bus to the Santa Monica 3rd Street Promenade.
I found FlamencoHands at 5:55pm after he had just finished playing. I convinced him to stay longer and play again at 8pm. While walking with FlamencoHands from outside the Apple Store to outside the Bravo Cucina, I stopped for a cup of coffee at my local Famima.
ODean, my friend the ex-rockstar from the 80s, joined our conversation outside Bravo at 6:42pm. Then, at 7:20pm, I streamed the NBC Nightly News from previous in the evening online.
My nightly cyberhug came from my darling Mr. Lester Holt that night, and his hug was full of nothing but love.
I stopped for one more cup of coffee before FlamencoHands started playing at 8:19pm. The breeze bit with a chill that night. The weather was beautiful. I sat in the night among the Spanish guitar melody with words immortal tripping across my fingertips.
The beautiful music ended at 9:14pm because his battery died, so at 9:43pm, we were on our long, slow walk to his car. FlamencoHands gave me a ride to my place. I was curled up and asleep by 11:30pm.
I woke up on Tuesday, 11Aug2015, over an hour before breakfast. This blog post was finished at 7:45am on 11Aug2015. Non sequitur: You must be Christian to believe in Satan.
And now, my beautiful world, I answer all of your questions for me. Please keep collecting all questions and concerns from all your friends and loved ones and sending them to me through whatever means possible.
Who is my favorite Beatle? My favorite has always been my darling late George Harrison, the quiet one. Non sequitur: My darling Mr. Eric Clapton's Wonderful Tonight was written about George Harrison's wife.
When did I lose my virginity? I was a late bloomer. I did not lose my virginity as much as I kicked it to the curb. I was twenty-one years old, had already graduated from college, but was still living in Dallas, TX.
I was stunningly gorgeous in my twenties, but I had trouble flirting back then. So, I got a boy from the drama department drunk one night. I thought I was much too old, but I have good friends who were actually older.
My beautiful world, I have a job to do, and my job is service to humanity. Please make sure you send me all of the concerns you would like me to address. The best time to send me questions and concerns is while I am at my regular haunt every morning.
I listen to all questions and concerns, and I answer everything as fast as possible. Non sequitur: A popular type of hardwood is an oak. When you say something funny, it is a joke. When you are covered in water, you soak. What a fire gives off is smoke. The white part of an egg is called the albumen.
My selfless support system, thank you. A lot of people were nervous about my finally blogging my whereabouts, but you have proven I am safer now. I feel you around me. I know you are here. Thank you.
My BFF SynSyn and all of my genius Powers of Attorney, I heard that you have all been making epic progress holding people accountable for wasting me with abuse.
I am thirty-seven years old. I am in my prime. Shove my résumé down Obama's throat and demand he give me my full human rights, so I can finally do my REAL job.
Non sequitur: Once in Vienna, I ate so many liqueur-filled chocolates I got drunk and ran through the volksgarten talking photos with the statues.
My musician-lovers MannedUp and GeneralLee, do I really have to wait until 12Aug2015 to see you again? Why must time apart pass so slowly?
My darling MannedUp, your job, if you remember, is to sit beside me and play me music at all hours of the day and night while I work. Thank you. I can feel you with me; even when you think I cannot hear you, trust that you are with me.
Darling, thank you. Without the music, I cannot do the work. And without the work, the world has too many problems with too few solutions.
My darling GeneralLee, I miss you. Did the fix on your carpal tunnel work again? I see you the least out of all my darlings Tentacle, so I need a little feedback from you more often.
Brien, you are mine to care for now. You all are. When you need us, you call my Powers of Attorney. If you ever need them, call the CIA. We take care of our own.
Non sequitur: The first song I remember writing was called "Buscamos el Baño," and I wrote it during an Odyssey of the Mind competition in the mid-90s.
My symbolic Royal Consorts Bogart and LightFoot both of whom I am forbidden from speaking with least of all ever making love to, I want adventures with you. I want to brave the great wide somewhere side-by-side with you.
I need the kind of significant others who will walk into the terrorist hotbed with me and walk out singing Lake of Fire right by my side for every minute of the not-really-espionage thrill ride.
My darling LightFoot, do you remember "LightFoot Lite," the drummer from the Foo Fighters? He would not go into Barney's Beanery with me the night I wanted to see what they were up to in there.
We know they refused me service, AND they hang ABSOLUTELY EVIL Iowa paraphernalia on the wall. I wanted to go in and take them down, but he would not go with me. I know you would have loved to have joined me on my reconnaissance. There is a reason you are the one who is my boyfriend.
My darling Bogart, are you still waiting for me, or have you moved on? All of you are welcome to pursue any relationship you want with anyone anywhere. I have never intended to string you along when I can only marry one of you.
Bryan, find a good woman you can actually be with. Yes, I love you, and I always will. But you need to heal, and I have no way to be with you to do the healing.
Yes, keep calling yourself my boyfriend as long as it makes you happy. But if our relationship every becomes a burden in your life, find someone better. That is my advice to all of my Queen's Lovers Five.
Non sequitur: Do NOT try telling me small, round, fuzzy objects are cushions. They are tribbles. Tribbles, I tell you, TRIBBLES!
My darling husband, Sweetness, I love and adore you. How is my king today?
Beloved, your way out of our marriage has always been frog legs. If you ever want our relationship to end while we are forbidden from being together, all you have to do is eat frog legs where I can see it, and I will walk away with no questions asked.
I will be crying every step of the way, HoneyHoney, but if you ever for your own good need to tell me goodbye, we have always had that system in place. I pray you never have to use it. Instead, may I touch you the way the flowers kiss the rain.
Non sequitur: There was a Gibson Girl with an IQ above 160 who wore size 11 shoes.