Cinco de My-O Random Thoughts

Five random thoughts in honor of the fifth of May.

Uno) Flat

It’s amazing. It’s wondrous. It made my day. My buddy, my pal, my main man Stan dropped me a line this week. Back home in Tennessee, he wrote to thank me for his visit to San Diego and tell me he missed me. What a guy!

Dos) Dented

“Dented” isn’t quite right, but I can’t find confirmation anywhere that “cavitous” is a word. It should be. Not that cavities, per se, are my problem. Not now. They were. Once. Years ago. When I was a kid. And they were filled. It’s those old silver fillings that are giving me a hassle these days. Or… were. I found a dentist this week and had two of them replaced. Hmm.. now that I think of it, “dented” is exactly the right heading for this thought. Not my teeth. My wallet.

Tres) Bruised

I auditioned for a show this week after months of coaxing. Skip to the end... despite it all, I was not cast. Though I reserve a bit of “peeve” for the tease, I have no regrets at being distanced from the script in question. I am now free to audition, unobliged, for material that better suits my interests.

Quattro) Pitted

A writing challenge has been issued by a good friend whose works I used to edit. A round-robin writing challenge. Issued by Chris, met by my mother, tossed to me, and to be continued by my brother once I’ve done my part. My part. It may take days. I’ve never risen well to wrting within someone else’s confines. And yet…keep your eyes open, I’ll do it yet.

Cinco) Hollow

I’ve been working on my own “What Not to Wear” and have cleaned out my closet, sending 4 bags of didn’t-fit-or-looked-like-a-potato-sack-on-me clothes to the Salvation Army. One could say I was “Californizing” my wardrobe if one were ready to believe that I opted to keep only camisoles, flip flops, and Spandex. I didn’t. However, I’m making the effort. Instead of swimming in my father’s old hand-me-down sweaters, I’m attempting to weed out the things that make me look heavier than I actually am. And maybe, if I can’t hide the curves I don’t like, I’ll be forced to lose them. Then I can buy a bunch of newer, sexier things. At least…that’s the idea this week. Next week, I might be calling you for your old overalls. Keep the phone handy.

There. Five random thoughts. Now go toss back a margarita or twelve and forget I said anything. Viva Cinco de Mayo!