Hurricane Harbor

A writer and a tropical muse. A funky Lubavitcher who enjoys watching the weather, hurricanes, listening to music while enjoying life with a sense of humor and trying to make sense of it all!

Sunday, May 22, 2005

Mary has a message for the little lamb...

Go Away! Go Home! Go All the Way Home! (people probably have been wondering where you've been)

Do Not Pass Go. Do Not Collect $200.

Do Not Follow me to Work tomorrow... do not call me and ask me where the Card Shop is on Atlantic Avenue. It was a mistake, a big mistake, I should never ever have sent the card and if I did I should have sent it from Trixie, Dixie or Roxie. My mistake. My bad. Stupid me... you were already following me everywhere.

Do Not Write a New Script with anyone resembling me in it. Write about a pig or a walrus... try the Artic not the Tropics.

Do Not Go on Frumster or JDATE pretending to be from Texas, Oklahoma or Rhode Island.

Go to some Lamb board... look for one of your own kind.

Mary is tired. She is not ever sending out cards again.. means she'd have to get stamps and its too much to remember.

Mary has too much on her mind. She has too much to remember.

Mary wants to do things you don't understand and does not want you to get an additional bachelors or masters degree in.

I have given at the office. I have tried... even the girl scout code would cut me some slack here.

Linda would tell me to pick up, move on and what was that phrase she used years ago, "somewhere there is a man truly worthy of you, he'll show up some day."

She didn't mention me having to be your playmate for life. Did she now?
She would forgive me. She will forgive me. We will have a rollicking time somewhere in heaven, one day... We'll write, we'll sit under palm trees. There will be no such thing as cancer that rips out of your life the one person you love like a sister more than anyone in the world. Or shoots down a young boy who never did anything wrong to anyone ever in his whole entire life (other than to hide my shoes under the shabbos table or pretend to lock me out in the hallway with the 5 locks people in crown heights used to use... and always made me giggle til I couldn't breathe)... yeah, no where in heaven does some idiot kid from another neighborhood come and knife down your make beleive baby brother in a phone booth... or take your make beieve best friend away with Hodgkins Disease.

So... Avremie can sing niggunim in heaven, beautiful ones.. and Linda can wish for me good things and write great plays and win make believe Tony Awards...

I'm tired. Go Home. Do something productive with your life.
That is what God put you on this earth for... to bring down holiness..

Not to stalk, talk your way around the world following Mary who is too tired to even think because you have exhausted her and she is afraid to trust anyone.. cause they might be hired by the Sr.

Mary no longer wants to write. Mary no longer wants to play.
Mary doesn't want to go to school tomorrow.
Mary wants to start over with someone, fall madly deeply in love and begin again.
Mary wants to do "acts of goodness and kindness"

Let me put it this way Ted, Ron and Lisa... et all... Lamb Incorporated...
in the words of online dating....

Mary is NOT a Pet Person
Go Home..


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