  this new blogger thing is nice,  fonts and all.  & nbsp;  talked to daddio yesterday and it looks like I'll be going(
with my sister) fuck)  to stay with him until the 30th,  whereupon we will go to Tulsa,  Oklahoma,  to attend a 50th wedding anniversary/ family reunion gala for roseanne's posse.
 & nbsp;
 family reunions.  Never been to one,  and have never wanted to attend one.  I suppose it's the stigma of the thing:  the heavily stoked uncles( uncle guffman) jk)
 the veil of false sincerity,  the sprinkling&
nbsp;
of unidentifiable casseroles which&
nbsp;
were all&
nbsp;
undoubtedly created in the microwave which is powered by the cigarette lighter in the station wagon,  the shaking of sweaty hands,  the diet- sprite- and- apple- juice- concentrate punch,  the&
nbsp;
loud and annoying children all squeezed into last years Easter outfit,  along with their flustered " faux fancy"  parents in similar raiment,  the fine patina of lip gloss and make- up covering everyone's cheeks by the end of the endlessly long evening.
 I suppose I watch too much TV.
 & nbsp;
 hopefully it won't be so bad,  although arguments have already commenced on the&
nbsp;
subject of my outfit,  which is horribly ugly&
nbsp;
and unsuitable for someone&
nbsp;
like me.  it's a black long dress that's&
nbsp;
plaid on top.
 & nbsp;  & nbsp;  & nbsp; nbsp;
 I suppose I dress sort of like.  A hobo hippie weirdo.  Like right this minute,
 I've got on a tye dyed shirt,  black pants with a hole in them,  and a whole bunch of sex bracelets and hemp necklaces.  my hair is jerked back " beautiful blonde pineapple"  style ( hope everyone caught that " grease"  reference)
nbsp;
This black dress with the plaid and such is about as far from me as it possibly gets.
