20180120-0035-Stuff

Dear diary,

We’ve been busy driving around almost every other day – doctor’s appointments, event planning related appointments, exercising for Mom while Dad and I walked around the park, dining out at fastfood places (yummy), and other errands, such as dropping off check payments, mailing prayer requests with donations of course, and buying two more yards of materials for Mom dressy jacket.

Yesterday, we visited the designer lady, who is also a spiritual deliverer. I can sense that she is constantly reading us. I noticed that she stuck her right index finger inside her right earhole. That’s what Mom does with her left index finger into her left earhole. I guess God is talking TOO loudly to these two chumps.

Anyway, Mom wanted her one-piece dress straight. Both of us saw that she looked like balloon stuffed in a sack. The extra material looks nice from the front but her buldging belly doesn’t do her justice from the sides! So we opted for a jacket with a sleeveless long dress. After purchasing the extra supplies for her, we brought back an old designer dress of hers as a template.

I took a couple of photos of the fitting. It’s terrible. And I have a photo of an orchid plant and a painting done by whoever.

Yeah, so in the morning, there seemed to be rain clouds forming. We ate breakfast late and attended noontime mass. Then we ate at the nearby McD. Dad wanted Carl’s Jr but I had to make a pitstop to check if I ran over a nail. But Mom said it was a piece of wood.

After lunch it rained en route to the gym but it stopped just as Dad and I walked around the park. I wore a light jacket and that was barely enough to break the cold winds with the opened umbrella too, while I listened to the .mp3 sounds of my Alto I part. I don’t know the difference with Alto II, but I’ll find out later.

I had to hurry because I was feeling poopy. But my right injured ankle started hurting HALFWAY, which is fifteen minutes into the cold walk. After fetching Mom maroon, aluminum walking cane, I pooped and Dad called once, and then twice. But I was done in ten minutes to fetch Mom and bag in exchange for the cane.

Then we hurried over to the designer lady and finished that part of the day with two orders of Kim Tar food – noodles and rice. Welp, so much for my Nutrisystem diet. I managed to loose six pounds. But I simply do NOT eat much, I’ll just slim down. But the statin drugs help to reduce muscle mass, albeit the weight.

Back to the designer lady. She prayed over me after the fitting of our dress, looking out of her windows showing the backyards and orchids inside their plastic potters AND tied against a wooden post. She views her little garden as relaxtion during the babysitting of her grandson until four in the afternoon that day due to her daughter-in-law studying, working, whatever.

She prayed that God finds me a husband! Brouhaha! I was already sending her mental images of the old guy who is probably TEN years older than me. And of course, my teacher (Mom) rebuked me for not dressing up pretty after the designer lady suggested that I put my hair up, wear makeup, act lady-like and dress up like one. But I’m stuck wearing Mom’s homemade campshirt deal.

Oh, Lord! With my forever injured right ankle and other falling parts (boobs in particular), I do NOT do high heels! I’ll fall over. My balance is horrible. And I need to run away in case of emergency. Plus my ass and hip area are thick like logs. Hilarious.

And the point they made is that, though they didn’t wear makeup in their generation and managed to nag their old men, it’s different nowadays and that guys don’t want a thug gal. In my mind, if she picked it up, it’s up to the guyes to sense beyond the freakish glory of campshirts.

Okay, so before midnight I purchased an .mp3 product for my alto part. A professional singer performs in tempo. She has more vibrato and legato. My voice is NOT that deep in breath. I didn’t know altos should sound like her. I wasn’t getting used to the slow tempo rehearsal version. But the pending order is locking up my immediate download! The link is a 404 expired crap. So I sent the pussheads an email. But they’re eastcoast and it’s weekend.

Yeah so yesterday, we received ONE return RSVP. It’s the parents of our former choir conductor. Sheet! Now how’s that for symbolism. Musicians. Brouhaha! The designer lady told me to ask God what I want. She cited an example of a lady without arms, now living in Germany with a whitish husband. She can paint, drive, and cook with her freaking feet!

Okay, so how specific must I be? I thought that I’ll leave everything up to God because Dad knows best. You remember that old black and white show? OMG! The theme song won’t leave my brain now and the tapping shoe beat, too! You know what? I don’t wanna ask because such will manifest. Too scary. Had enough. So I’d better keep my musings unto myself and hope her prayers will reach the high heavens for God to find me the right one.

Sincerely,

Loser (aka FLYNN B.)

P.S. I really need a spiritual tin foil hat to block out my thoughts from being transmitted every which way. It’s too embarrassing! Seriously, there’s nothing to hide, except the ‘release the memo’. WTF is going on with that? I don’t know what they’re talking about because I have no time to go online and read news articles. Quit doing one-liners and give me the three-bulleted items highlighting WTF is going on. Amen.

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