Maps ... and Circulate!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wR9GiA7Hg_A
And it's 3 AM .... I'm awake ... I have a cup full of honey nut cheerios  and when I just went to the bathroom real quick before I sit down to write I realize that my sweat pants are inside out. In the mirror my pupils are dancing a Jack Nicholson Irish jig  like,"Heeeeeerrrrrreeee'sss Jooooohhhnnnyyyyy!"  Sweet Look. Thanks Steroids. My mom, son and brother are fast asleep, not to be weird but I hope they are enjoying their slumber, with my schizophrenic personality we all know know they need their rest! They are so good with me, unconditional patience, Saints. Really I get overwhelmed by the amount of sheer and absolute volume of phenomenal variety of support. Mind Blowing. (Speaking of blowing ...should I refill the Cheerios's? No... last  blog... sharting.... fiber overload not necessary.. TMI? well I'm writing it sorry) Any way Lets talk about the video clip.... I am now going to take any youngsters back to a place in time where us kids from the 90's lived. Not the stone age.. the 90's. I recently posted this on my face book as a shared tag and thought it was great, " I was born in the 80's... grew up in the 90's... We are the last generation that learned to play in the street, we were the first to play video games, the last to record songs off the radio on cassettes or music videos on VHS. We are the pioneers of Walkmans and chat rooms. We learned how to program the VCR before anyone else. We played with Atari, Genesis, and Super Nintendo.We believed the Internet would be a free world. We are the generation of the Thunder Cats, Transformers, Ninja Turtles, Family Matters, T.G.I.F., The Fresh Prince Of Bel-Air, and Martin. We traveled in cars without seat belts and air bags. We lived without cell phones. We didn't have 99+ television stations, flat screens, surround sound, MP3's, Ipods, Face book, or Twitter. But never the less we had a great time!"  I thought that was so on point! Does any one out there remember before MTV or VH1 had mad music videos, there was a channel... I want to say #57... THE BOX? I wish I could see the light bulbs of people that remember this right now. It was the first TV jukebox I guess. You could literally call in after going through a list of songs, charging a small fortune of $1.99 on your parents credit card to some 3rd world country's automated computer. Then you wait... but with no you tube or Internet I mean what else did we have to do? You would hate the generic teenie boppers that would put on Baby One More Time like 8000 times, and I would secretly love it at the same time. Personally I would love the random weird stuff... the videos where others might have been like what country bumkin from Idaho put this on, yet inside it spoke to my soul. This song at the beginning of my blog, that's the first time I ever saw this video, on the box, thanks Idaho! To this day the song moves me with it's simplistic talent. its raw. During this whole adventure of Cancer, I cant stop resurfacing this song in my brain. It reminds me of so many things in my recent experiences, but mostly the sheer and absolute volume of phenomenal variety of support. I couldn't relate more to this song, or the lyrics. Hold that thought ..Let me grab the mint choco chip cream ice from Rita's... my throat is raging. And I'm back beginning to feel like a big girl because I def just left a spoon in the quart for later, good looks on my part for convenience, bad looks for my round pudgy face. I'm over it though.. the dog has retreated to sleep with my brother because I smell. She's looking at me like it's ok though. In the beginning I blamed her.. the dog.. but then she was outside for a while and I just had to fess up, she forgave me. Sad yes but whatever more room for me! My brother just rolled over and saw me for the 6th night cracked out on steroids he opens his eyes then shuts them... it must be awful to wake up to my stench of stale. ( Secretly, and so unlady like I'm laughing because from a big sister to a little brother a fart is always funny) "Do you want a fan?" I ask. Because now I feel bad, its not nice to torture your little brother with Poots while he's sleeping. "That would be nice," he simply says, rolling over as if he could care less either way. He truly doesn't care. He loves me. So let me wrap this up somehow by saying this. Sharts stink... so get a fan right?  A quote from a friend says this..." Even though this is hard, even though I don't understand it, even though its not fair, I'll keep a good attitude and stay full of joy, knowing that this is not setting me back. It is setting me up for something better, to bring me through to the other side of this in an even better position." I'm simply Circulating.