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Word of the Week #3 – Omission

First I must apologize for this week’s W.O.W. being a day late.  We had an extremely busy Saturday filled with an ice cream social, historical village, grocery shopping, and babysitting.  (I warned you I might be inconsistent from time to time.)

This week’s Word of the Week: Omission.  

Inspiration-
I was inspired by the Daily Prompt on WordPress.  There was a question as to the necessity for political correctness.  The post asked bloggers to write about whether we feel it is more important to be honest or politically correct (PC).  I read several of the responding posts.  One blogger wrote that being politically correct was to practice the art of omission.  He said he felt that people take political correctness too seriously, causing people to omit some of their feelings and thoughts.  He felt honesty was the best policy. (I wish I could credit the author but I read so many blogs I honestly don’t remember which blog it is from. Sorry!!!)  

I have to say I agree with the above blogger in some ways.  There were those commenting on his post that disagreed, but omitting things constantly gets exhausting.  I also agree that sometimes omissions are good.  I suppose I am torn on the subject.  When my mom asks me how she looks now that she has stopped coloring her hair and wearing make-up, I omit some of my opinions.  I tell her the truth, but I omit some truths.  However, there are times when omissions can be bad.  For example, when a wife asks her husband what he did today and he omits that he rendevoused with his ex-girlfriend, that’s a bad omission.  Law dictionaries actually give examples of how witnesses, officers, attorneys, and government officials can face criminal charges for omissions.

Omissions occur more than only in conversation.  Have you ever felt ignored, forgotten, or excluded?  I have, far too many times.  When I went away to college, my best friend went with me.  We shared a dorm room. She is one of those people that could make friends with an entire room of people in five minutes.  She always had friends, places to go, and stuff to do.  I was shy.  I wasn’t “cool” like her.  I didn’t know how to open up to people, and I certainly wasn’t accustomed to just joining in without an invite. My mother and grandmother both taught me I should never invite myself to go over to a friend’s house, to go along on an outing, or into a group of people.  When my roommate and her friends were constantly going out and doing fun things, meeting new people, and enjoying their college experience without me, I felt omitted.  In a way I was.  I spoke to my friend about it. I was extremely upset at the time. I told her I felt she was excluding and ignoring me, and that she was not being a good friend.  She took offense.  She said she wasn’t going to beg me to come along every time something fun came along.  She suggested I just tell her when I wanted to go, or just show up and go along.  An invite was not required and I shouldn’t expect one. She felt I overreacted.  I simply didn’t feel comfortable forcing myself into a group of people.  Unfortunately, it changed our relationship forever.  I was hurt.  I felt neglected as her friend.  She felt I was neglecting myself.  She gave me what she saw as the only viable solution, but I didn’t feel I was capable of or comfortable with that solution.

Omissions are both good and bad in my opinion.  It can feel quite overwhelming sometimes, trying to know when to make an omission and when I shouldn’t.  Relationships seem to hinge on it.  My very close friend is a mixed African American. I can’t pretend I understand how she feels, being mixed or Black. She has struggled tremendously and I will never understand it.  I am not a racist.  I know White people say that all the time when it’s not true, but I really am not.  I don’t claim to be an expert on race. I don’t pretend to understand. I admit I am naive, which is why I avoid the subject in most cases, but my ignorance doesn’t make me racist.  I would rather avoid the subject than risk hurting someone’s feelings by asking questions.  I feel this way because I hurt my friend once by asking questions.  A White male friend of hers sang an R&B song in our open mic group that was recorded by a Black male artist.  It had the “N” word in it.  I asked her what it means when an African American says that word, as opposed to someone of a different ethnicity.  She looked at me like I had suddenly grown a third eye.  Perhaps I should have omitted that question.  We talked it out, but I was so hurt by her reaction.  She seemed to honestly hate my ignorance. It made me feel as if she hated a part of who I am. I know that’s not true, but it pushed me to the point that I avoid any kind of racial discussion whatsoever. I try to avoid discussing the differences between people because I am so afraid of hurting someone.  Whether it’s good or bad that I do this, I don’t know.  Perhaps I should be more proactive. Should I do more research? Should I try to understand? Perhaps, but I am not ready to take the risk.

Intro-
I was surprised at some of the information I found when I was researching this week’s word of the week.  I had not really considered all the meanings of omissioin before.  That is why I like working on these little projects.  I enjoy learning, researching, and exploring words.  I like that I can research a word that seems quite simple and self-explanitory and it turn out to be something far more interesting than it seems.  I was pleasantly surprised by some of the definitions.

Pronunciation-
o·mis·sion  
/ōˈmiSHən/

Definition-

According to Dictionary.com “omissioin” is a noun, defined as follows:  Someone or something that has been left out or excluded; The action of excluding or leaving out someone or something.  The Merriam-Webster dictionary defines it as something neglected or left undone; Apathy toward or neglect of duty.  I was shocked to see that neither definition mentioned omissions in conversation, as in leaving something unsaid.

Words synonymous with omission:  neglect, negligence, oversight (dictionary.com).

Origin-
The root word “omit” comes from 1350-1400 Middle English.  It is also found in the Latin word omissiō, meaning “to let go”.

I Need Two Cents-

I am interested to hear what you have to say about this week’s W.O.W.  If you have any suggestions as to any future words, please feel free to share!  I am always open to suggestions and need help with inspiration at times.  I really enjoyed this week’s word. I couldn’t be more pleased with what I’ve learned. I hope that I am helping my (small) audience to learn some things too and I want to learn from you as well.  Thank you for reading!

Resources-
omission. (n.d.). Dictionary.com Unabridged. Retrieved August 11, 2013, from Dictionary.com website: http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/omission

“Omission.” Merriam-Webster.com. Merriam-Webster, n.d. Web. 11 Aug. 2013. <http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/omission&gt;.

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W. O. W. #2 In Progress – “Epitaph”

This needs serious editing but there was some kind of glitch with the website when I tried to preview my post before I published it and it deleted all my changes.  Here’s the rough copy…

Intro –

Last week’s Word of the Week (W.O.W.) was “brevity”.  The brevity of human life is a topic of discussion in many forums.  This week’s “epitaph” seemed like a natural progression.  Christopher Crisp (2008) defines “epitaph” as such: “Epitaphs provide a short definition of a person’s life” (para.1). Though simple, this explains exactly what an epitaph is.  Some epitaphs are clichés, others more original.  An epitaph is what is written on one’s tombstone when they die, how someone might sum up your life at your funeral, or what people may think or say about you when you’re gone.  What would your epitaph be?  That’s something to think about…  I chose “epitaph” as this week’s W.O.W. because I have seen a lot of death in my life, more than most I think…

 

My mother has worked in a nursing home my entire life.  I spent a huge chunk of my childhood in that nursing home, because for a large portion of my childhood my mother was single and could not afford childcare.  I played Dominos, checkers, and cards and sometimes put puzzles together with some of the residents.  I would visit them in their rooms or hand them their little water cups when my mother (a nurse) would give them their pills.

 

The problem with spending so much time with people in a nursing home is I have out-lived almost all of them.  I can’t tell you how many funerals I have attended for my mother’s residents.  Some of them had families; some didn’t.  I’ve waited in long lines to bid them goodbye, but I have also sat in a room with my mother and a handful of other nursing home employees to honor their lives.  Those funerals are always the saddest ones, and there is usually no eulogy or “service”, just a few well-wishers trying to honor someone who out-lived anyone else who ever cared.  What would you say at the funeral of someone you barely knew?

 

I don’t remember how old I was, but I remember this man died who had a partner (girlfriend) in the nursing home.  We’ll call them Arty and Eva. Both of them had been seriously disabled for as long as I had known them.  I remember how heartbreaking it was to watch two employees lift Eva’s tiny body from her wheelchair and perch her up next to Arty’s casket.  Tears poured from her eyes but she had never been able to speak well.  No discernible words came from her lips, just sounds, and I remember wanting to know what she was saying.  I have no doubt she would have given Arty a beautiful eulogy if she could have. What was his epitaph?  Eva had been the one person he had ever shared his soul with and she couldn’t share it at his passing, but the air was certainly thick with grief and love.  The sound of her heart breaking was Arty’s epitaph.

 

Definition of Epitaph

The Merriam-Webster Dictionary (2013) defines epitaph as “an inscription on or at a tomb or a grave in memory of the one buried there; a brief statement commemorating or epitomizing a deceased person or something past” (para.1-2).  It goes on to describe it as such:

 

Inscription in verse or prose on a tomb, or, by extension, anything written as if to be inscribed on a tomb. Probably the earliest surviving epitaphs are those written on ancient Egyptian sarcophagi and coffins. Ancient Greek examples are often of literary interest. In Elizabethan times epitaphs began to assume a more literary character. Many of the best known are literary memorials (often deliberately witty) not intended for a tomb (para. 6).

Origins of Epitaph

The first known use of the word “epitaph” was during the 14th century.  It comes from the Greek epitaphion or epi + taphos (tomb + funeral).

 

My Two Cents

Over the last 18 years I have lost a lot of people I care about.  It started with my Grandpa Simmons. He helped raise me until I was about 12 years old.  He died right after school started my freshman year of high school. It was the first death to seriously impact my life that I can remember.  About a year and half later my step-dad’s father died.  A few months later my maternal grandfather died on my 16th birthday.  Six years later my husband’s grandmother, great uncle, and great aunt died.  You can think it may not impact me as much as my ex-husband and you would be right, but I was extremely close with most of his family.  My great uncle died about a year or two before my great aunt.  She died five years ago and my ex-husband’s other great uncle followed shortly after.  Just before our divorce, he also lost a cousin who was my age.  Tragedy struck last September when my ex and his mother were in a bad accident. She was crushed inside the car and he was thrown from it.  (He is still paralyzed, tragically.)

 

I was incredibly close to my ex-mother-in-law.  Sometimes I felt closer to her than my own mother.  When she passed, there was not a single soul on Earth who could say a sour word about her.  She was the most giving, loving, selfless person I have ever known.  It left a huge hole in my heart after she was gone.  I miss her every day.  A day or so after she died, I wrote a poem.  For me, it was her epitaph.  I suppose there were others who could have said something different from what I said.  No one person has only one epitaph.  Each person means something different to each person they know.  I suppose it is the most popular opinion that endures.  Of course, everyone had a pretty good opinion of her.  (If you would like to read the poem I have copied it at the bottom of this post.)

 

About seven months ago I lost my grandmother.  I was living with her at the time.  She was not only my father’s mother.  She was a saint.  She raised me when no one else could (or would), and every time I needed help, she was the only person I knew I could always turn to.  I loved her immensely, deeply.  I would have given my life to have given her more time in this world.  She was only 69 years old.  She had pancreatic cancer and we didn’t know it until it was too late.  I have seen a lot of death, lost a lot of people I loved, but this was the greatest loss of my life.  The sting is still fresh, the void is still deep, and the pain still real.  The pain is more than I can bear some days.  Every time I have suffered extreme pain, especially when I have lost a loved one, I have found solace in my writing.  I write poems (like the one below), or short stories like the one I wrote when my friend’s father died.  Something was different when my grandmother died.  I couldn’t write. I was incapable of writing anything about her, to honor her, to grieve for her.  To this day I have yet to write anything for my grandmother.  It disturbs me greatly.  All I can do is pray and hope that someday my broken heart will allow me to write for her the way I have for others…

 

My research for this week has directed me to some unexpected reading.  I can’t tell you how many epitaphs I have read, about people I have never met, written by people I will never meet.  It was both interesting and inspiring to see what people say about others after they are gone.  It made me think, “If I died tomorrow, what would my epitaph be?”  I am not so sure I am ready to know…

 

I call this “B.I.G.”…

 

Way up over yonder,

 Above the sky of blue

 Is a big ol’ cabin & a farm

 Where the owner waits for me & you.

 

 

To get to her farm

 We can’t go by plane or bus

 But she made sure it was just big enough

 For every one of us.

 

 

There’s meatloaf in the oven

 And chicken on the stove.

 She’s cookin’ somethin’ for each of us

 ‘Cause that’s how she shows her love.

 

 

She stirs the homemade noodles,

 Pepsi can in hand.

 And hums along to Lynard Skynard

 And the Charlie Daniels Band.

 

 

There ain’t no invitation.

 Anyone can come.

 Arrive early or late, doesn’t matter.

 She welcomes everyone.

 

 

She’ll bend over backwards

 For anyone in need.

 She’ll pick you up when you fall,

Kiss your boo-boo’s, & bandage skinned knees.

 

 

She’ll be a mother, grandma,or friend

When you feel like you have none.

And she’ll offer forgiveness and a hug,

No matter what you’ve done.

 

 

Even all the critters

Call her “Momma” too –

Be it a cat, dog, goat,

or a pony named “Blue”.

 

 

Every now and then

She may get in your face.

And tell you to “cowgirl up”

Or put you in your place.

 

 

She always plays with the big dogs

And is tougher than most men.

Her motto: “Go big or go home”

And she did both in the end…

 

 

She was the most amazing woman

And so full of life.

It’s so easy to be angry

That she’s gone before her time.

 

 

But Boobie wouldn’t want us

To get depressed and cry

 Because she died doing what she loved

 With her son by her side.

 

 

Whether in a derby car or in life

 She never passed up a fight.

 But even though she was one tough cookie

Her bark was still worse than her bite.

 

 

She was stubborn as a mule

But sweet as she could be.

And now there is one amazing angel

Watching out for you and me.

 

 

In loving memory of Boobie I.Gray. 4/17/1961 – 9/23/2012. I love & miss you so much, Momma Boobie. Love, Crystal

 

Resources:

Crisp, C. (2008, Oct 23). Epitaphs provide a short definition of person’s life. The Dispatch. Retrieved from http://search.proquest.com/docview/435469618?accountid=458

“Epitaph.” Merriam-Webster.com. Merriam-Webster, n.d. Web. 3 Aug. 2013. <http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/epitaph>.

 PREVIOUS POSTS…

8/2/13

I am sitting in the lounge at my car dealer waiting for them to replace a damaged tire. In the meantime I thought I would let everyone know I AM working on this week’s Word of the Week. I haven’t already fallen off the wagon. It’s just been a busy week. I am still getting over the last remaining symptoms of shingles and yesterday I fell out of the dilapidated desk chair my boss refuses to replace and hurt my.. Everything! It hurts from wrist to skull, all the way up my right arm. God forbid he have any concern if I am OK. He is a neurologist and deals with work comp patients every day but I seriously doubt he has work comp insurance. Anyway…

I am going back and forth on this week’s Word of the Week. I liked “queer” at the beginning of the week because I was feeling brave and argumentative but I think I may save it for another week. I also like “hyperbole,” “epiphany,” & “epitaph”. I can’t decide which way to go and I haven’t received any feedback or suggestions so I will work it out and post tomorrow as promised.

I do ask for some forgiveness in advance. My boyfriend and I are celebrating our one-year anniversary tonight and have plans to spend some family time with my mom, sister, and nephew in the morning so my post may be brief. Now that’s practicing brevity! Haha!

8/3/13 Update:

I have decided to use “epitaph” as this wee’s word of the week.  I am just checking in before we make the drive to meet up with my family (while J.T. is in the shower-haha).  I still have to finish getting ready and my hand/wrist are really sore right now (from my fall on Thursday).  I have a feeling this week’s W.O.W. post will be quite brief if my hand keeps hurting.  It’s difficult to type when every muscle from my knuckles to my neck hurts.  I will be back later today to post my content.  I hope everyone is having a wonderful weekend. The weather here is a little overcast but I can’t complain. We’re in the low 80’s in AUGUST!!!  That’s fairly mild for Southern Illinois.   I’ll be back this evening! Enjoy your Saturday!

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Word of the Week #1 – Brevity

The Word of the Week for July 21-27 is Brevity

Blogging on Brevity:
I recently discovered one of my new favorite bloggers, Sophie Lizard.  (She actually gets PAID to blog – lucky girl!)  Her July 7th post was my inspiration for this week’s word of the week.  The entire post was about writing concisely, combining brevity and clarity to develop that perfect pithiness that readers crave – meaningful but brief content.  This is definitely an area where I struggle (obviously) but I am working on it.  The information in Sophie’s post is invaluable to any writer, not just bloggers.  (By the way, Sophie’s blog is sited in my resources. If you don’t already, you should consider following her blog. I highly recommend it.)

I have really enjoyed doing the research for my first Word of the Week.  Brevity, to me, is more than briefness.  Exercising brevity in one’s written work means intentionally keeping it simple and getting the point across without sacrificing content.  I am a work in progress and have yet to master this concept but I am excited at the thought of trying!

BREVITY
Pronunciation: brev·i·ty [brev-i-tee]
Definition of Brevity:
Dictionary.com (2013) defines Brevity as follows:
noun
1.shortness of time or duration; briefness: the brevity of human life.
2.the quality of expressing much in few words; terseness: Brevity is the soul of wit.
This was my favorite of all the definitions I found because it quotes Shakespeare’s Hamlet, “Brevity is the soul of wit”.  I could easily get off on a tangent about why that statement is so true, why brevity is necessary for wit and visa-verse but I think I’ll save that for another day (read Sophie’s blog!)…

Dictionary.com also lists several synonyms. I don’t mean to insult anyone’s intelligence, but I feel I should revisit middle school English here, just in case.  (You never know who your audience may be.) I feel it’s important to consider language barriers, age, etc. A synonym is a word having either the same or close to the same meaning as another word.
Synonyms for brevity:  compactness, succinctness, pithiness

I especially like the word pithy.  Pithy (or pithiness) also implies briefness but includes a special meaningful quality, substance, or forcefulness.

Origins of Brevity:  The Oxford Dictionary (2013) credits the origin of brevityto the 15th Century Old French word brievete, meaning “brief”.  I found blog sites that argued the origins were Greek, but Greek is widely accepted as a sister language to Latin.  The Latin words bravitas or brevis also mean brief.  Since the “other sources” I found couldn’t provide any substantial evidence of Greek or Latin origins, I am inclined to believe The Oxford Dictionary in that the origins of the word are from the Old French.  My guess, as uneducated as it may be, is there was no real word for Brevity in the ancient languages (Latin, Greek, etc.) and perhaps the French invented it, stemming from the word for brief – be it Latin, Greek, French, or otherwise.

If anyone wants to suggest a word for a future Word of the Week, please feel free to leave a comment.  I am open to suggestions and keep a list.

Resources:
Brevity. (n.d.). Dictionary.com Unabridged. Retrieved July 23, 2013, from Dictionary.com website: http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/brevity

Brevity. (2013). Oxford Dictionary. Retrieved from http://oxforddictionaries.com/us/definition/american_english/brevity

Lizard, S. (2013). All Killer, No Filler: 6 Simple Tips for Concise Writing. Retrieved from http://beafreelanceblogger.com/how-to-write-concisely/

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Random Rantings – Taking Chances

Since this is my personal blog there are no rules to follow, meaning I can post whenever I want, about whatever I like. So, for the sake of having nothing else to do and curbing my anxiety I want to make a random post about something that is eating at me, and I need feedback so please KEEP READING.

I tend to be careful, too careful. I went to church every time the doors were open when I was a kid because it was a guaranteed community – a group of people with like beliefs who were (for the most part) very kind to me, kinder than anyone else – even my family. It was safe… I went to the same college all my friends from church went to because a) my friends were there, and b) it was close to home… I married a boy I grew up around. I knew him my entire life and I knew he would never leave our home town because he was a coward just like me. I THOUGHT he was safe. (That’s another story.)

The problem with being careful all the time is that it’s so dreadfully boring! From time to time I’ve been known to take small risks, some of which are good, but I have lived to regret most of them. I have had my share of risky romances. I went on a spring break trip to London with a group of people I barely knew and who mostly hated me by the end of the trip. I had an affair and divorced my husband – lost everything. I finished my bachelors degree online (much harder to do than it may seem). I called a guy I met in a bar and agreed to a date when I was mid-miscarriage with a Summer fling’s twins. Yes. That really happened. For the record, he’s amazing and it was the best risk I have ever taken.

I DO have a point… I feel stuck – stuck in Southern Illinois, stuck in my job, stuck in debt, stuck with depression, and stuck in this life. I feel that my parents are largely to blame. I can’t change how I feel and I know my mom and dad (stepdad) did their best, but my “real” father is completely self-involved and my mom didn’t encourage me to go to school or help pay for it. She certainly didn’t try to help me find any direction or help me find someone who could. Yes. I had a mom and grandmother who did their best to raise me well, and they did. I am a productive member of society, but I am STUCK. The worst part is, my mom raised me to be stuck, just like everyone else around here.

I’ve decided I don’t want to be stuck anymore. I don’t want to be my mom in 25 years, sitting in the same spot on the same couch in the same house watching the same crappy sitcoms. I want to go somewhere. I want to do and be more than what this life has dished out to me. I think I have finally had enough and I am ready to fly!

There is only one problem with all of this. I am BROKE. I have NO savings. My boyfriend and I always seem to get just a little bit ahead just before some great catastrophe. It may not seem like much, but three days off work is half my rent for the month!

Here’s a question for all you folks out there who have gotten the heck out of Dodge… HOW DID YOU DO IT??? I don’t want the typical stories (college, military, marriage, etc). I want to know how Average Joe just picks up and leaves from Smalltown, USA and finds his Heaven on Earth. How can anyone afford to uproot and move out of state? How do you get jobs when you live HOURS away? How do you find a place to live? (And do they accept pets?)

I have a Business degree. I am an excellent typist. I have done clerical work and customer service (mostly in the medical industry) my entire life, not to mention I do have SOME writing talent. That has to be worth something! JT is the hardest working person I know. He’s great with his hands, intelligent, and everyone likes him. The problem is getting two great people from where we are to where we want to be. We’ve decided we do NOT want to be here!

So, please share with me how YOU DID IT. How did you move clear across the country? How did you leave everything  you know, find work, and a place to live? How did you AFFORD it? I just have no idea where to begin.

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Introducing Word of the Week

As part of my new blogging venture I am trying something new.  It is mostly for my own benefit but I hope that it will also benefit my readers. (I am officially up to 3 readers – yay!)  I want to share a new word every week.  I will research its meaning(s) and origin, share other sources on the subject, and hopefully write an entry focused on the use of the word or its meaning.  After all, a blog called What Are Words For? should seek out the purpose of words, how we use them, why we use them, etc.

I will likely post my “Word of the Week” articles on Saturdays, since that’s when I seem to have the most time; However, please don’t hold me to that commitment.  As this is a new blog, it’s easy for me to believe I will keep up on a weekly basis.  I would LIKE to believe it for myself, but sometimes things come up and I am well aware of my humanity. I embrace my inconsistencies.  Right now I am off work, and have been since Friday afternoon (the last 4 1/2 days if you’re counting) because I am battling a case of the Shingles – ON MY FACE (damn chicken pox).  I have a ton of time on my hands, can’t really stand to be out in the sun, and I get bored easily, so right now it’s easy.  To make promises of weekly posts chalked full of worthwhile information may be stretching it a bit. I am not really sure at this point, so please accept my apologies in advance if I post too early, too late, or not at all.  It’s not that I believe ANYONE would agonize in waiting for my next post.  This isn’t exactly nail-biting material, but I try very hard to be a woman of my word. Now that I have the preliminary disclaimers out of the way…

The Word of the Week for July 21-27 is Brevity

I encourage you to look it up, research it for yourself, and come back here this weekend to see what I have found.  I would also love to hear your thoughts and suggestions in the comments!  I may not reply right away, but I will try very hard to keep up with comments/messages.  Happy word hunting!

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Meeting a Challenge

I was a little unsure of where to begin for my first post, not because I have nothing to write.  It would be ridiculous to start a blog if I had nothing to write, but I just have so much I would like to write about that I was not sure where to begin. I decided to enforce the most important practice I learned in Business School – K.I.S.S (Keep It Simple, Stupid)…

“The Daily Post at WordPress” has posted a weekly writing challenge called “A Pinch of You”.  It is a creative writing challenge.  The idea is to create a recipe that is the essence of oneself, what makes you you.  I needed to get some content up soon so I decided to take on this challenge and use it as my first blog entry.  I thought it would give my potential readers (since I am certain I don’t have any yet) a glimpse into the realm that is “The Crystal Palace”. (By the way, that nickname will certainly come up in future posts so I will try to explain it at some point.)

INGREDIENTS:

CRUST…

1 Root of crazy – finely ground

2 tsp. Ground ginger (for a little spice)

1 Copy of the sheet music for the choral version of Billy Joel’s “And So It Goes”

1 Copy of Robert Frost’s “The Road Not Taken”

1/2 C. of Barbie doll hair

2 tsp. Broken heart

FILLING…

2 C. course, crystallized sugar

1 Belly Dance/Zumba hip scarf

3-month supply of Bee Fertile

1 Kevlar vest

1 Jar Royal Jelly

500 doses of Benadryl

1 Bottle Acetometaphine

1 Package AA Batteries

1/3 C. Malibu rum

1 Pair lace, animal print panties (preferably leopard)

1/2 C. regret

TOPPING…

At least 6 tattoos

1 Tube BB Cream

1 Bottle pink shellac

4 Tbsp. Hope

DIRECTIONS:

  1. Mix crust ingredients in a spittoon until thick dough forms
  2. Press firmly into an upside down cowboy hat
  3. Bake at one degree hotter than Hell
  4. Whisk filling ingredients together in a sand bucket
  5. Pour into cooled crust
  6. Freeze for two hours
  7. Ice with BB cream
  8. Sprinkle with hope
  9. Decorate with shellac and tattoos to taste

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