Originally posted on MySpace on December 26, 2006

Dear Friends;

I thought that I would write about freedom. You see it has been something of which I personally have had very little of for quite some time. For me it was a bad choice that I made years ago and I am still reaping the consequences. Now don’t go feeling bad here, that is not the point behind why I am writing about freedom. I am writing about the curiosity of a small seven-letter word and the profound effect that it can have in a person’s life, even in its fleeting passing, it is still freedom. I will be using my life merely as an amusing example of how this can be so. And like I said, it will be amusing, at least I hope so to you (Me, I am not so sure) You see for me, I guess there is really no other way to look at it, but I digress. So freedom, in a light overview

A couple of weeks ago I found myself home alone. (Now for those of MyFriends who are reading this without much knowledge of my past, let us just say that I am seldom alone. I have not been alone for a very long time, and only in stolen moments, a few minutes here, a few minutes there. Yes I drive alone in my car, but someone always knows when I am leaving, where I am going, how long it will take, who I am meeting, and then I am met by someone as soon as I get there So you see, I am not alone. To be so constricted is a regular part of my life now. Like breathing, only less natural. There are times that I forget to let someone know that I am in need to visit the restroom, and then I hear about it for days... About my stupidity and the risk. So you see, I do know what it is like to live how we keep our very treasured show-ponies and pets. I am pampered and spoiled and loved and cared for. But I am never alone. Which is exactly how I found myself a few weeks ago. Alone. It happened quite by accident. With all the crazy preparations that my family was doing to get ready for my Brother and his family's immanent arrival, and the changes in class lengths at school because of all the exams, I found myself home hours before expected.) So Dear Friends, I promised you lightness... Enjoy...

A few weeks ago, I found myself home alone. It was just for a couple of hours. Nothing all too shocking. I walked into a quiet house and set down my school paraphernalia. Nothing out of the ordinary. I called out Hello to whoever might be home at the time. Just like always. And no one answered. I thought perhaps they were napping. So I walked quietly down the hall. And I do mean quietly. (It is funny, no matter how many years it has been since you left home, you always remember where the creaky spots are and your feet somehow miraculously instinctively avoid them.) But it was for nothing. No one was napping. As a matter of fact, no one was there.

At first I thought that they must be in the garage doing laundry No Or outside sneaking a smoke… No… Or around the side yard struggling with the trashcan lids… No… Or well… um… Wow!

GONE

As in not here. As in ran to the store for a dozen eggs and the latest trashy Enquirer, or to the neighbor’s house for a proverbial cup of sugar, or to the bank for some fast cash, or to Starbucks for a coffee

(Side note: I am one of the few coffee snobs in my family, I swear I am not related to those whose blood runs darker and more bitter than mine due to the large consumption of over processed, over roasted coffee beans… Sorry, I just had to.)

So I waited for a few minutes. Nothing. No one.

QUIET.

Ahhh. Total quiet… I tried to read a book. But No Too quiet and too brain-fried from finals And still I found I was alone. So I slowly wandered around the house and looked at things. Sort of a duller, more grown up, slow motion version of Home Alone. Which is exactly how I felt.

HOME ALONE

After several more minutes of wandering around and pulling lint off of the back of the sofa in the front room and moving the magnets around on the refrigerator I realized that there must be a mix up in the communication network of my life And the time alone that I had was a glitch! WooHooo!!

(You know, I used to have a pair of longhaired miniature doxxies. I kept them in a kennel when I was gone at work. When I returned home at the end of the day and let them out, they would run up and down the hallway like it was a racecourse. Dashing as fast as their tiny legs would generate back and forth. Lap after lap until they collapsed into the pile of dirty clothes that I had on the floor of my closet. I never did understand that strange daily ritual)

So I decided to put on some soft music Hey Belly Dance Rhythms of the Nile can be considered soft music Which is what it was, with the volume turned way down Then I decided to spend a little extra time getting ready for a date I had later I took a wonderful shower and decided to use every type of conditioner I had for that extra glossy shine. I even left it in for the full five minutes recommended I wrapped my hair in a towel to pull out the water and keep in the heat. (No sense in undoing all that conditioning shine by over-using my blow dryer, right?) I tried on what seemed like every outfit in my closet, and still had nothing that I wanted to wear. So I decided to remove the raccoon eyes left on my face from the result of mixing blacker than black mascara and hot water together. Now when I say raccoon eyes. I am being polite. And flattering What I really mean is night of the living dead as played by Rob Zombie or Marilyn Manson But raccoon eyes sounds so much more girly. But just as I was pulling out the cotton balls and makeup remover, it came across my mind to pull a certain pair of jeans out of the dryer to wear on my date. They did that cute butt thing and went perfectly with my new shoes… so I went to the garage to get the jeans. Which were still wet and needed to dry just a bit more for optimal butt thing enhancing

Now, Dear Friends, is where it finally sinks in that I am truly alone. As in the I can do whatever I want ant no one cares, because I don’t care kind of alone And there is music with a rockin beat on (And I do have this small problem of uncontrollable movement when there is good music playing and I loved the song that was on and the one after that one too) So I danced A hip drop here.. a shimmy there Add some pretty hand gestures, a stomach flutter and a few spins and you get the picture.

Well almost What I have not mentioned is that I was partially dressed. Or that I had decided to wear a skirt before I utilized my female prerogative and changed my mind to the cute butt thing jeans And for those of you who know me well, you know that part of what I consider being a lady is wearing the right undergarments for the occasion. A skirt worn with the possibility of dancing requires one of two things Kick pants, or granny panties. Kick pants being something I reserve for the more important dancing venues, such as competitions or performances due to the uncomfortable nature of excess fabric, I opted for the granny panties.

I also failed to mention that I was dancing throughout the house from room to room as I got ready. And that part of the passing through included the kitchen and dining rooms Did I also forget to say that upon my arrival home, and in my search for the other occupants, I peered out the windows? Or that when I thought that I had closed the curtains completely, I just assumed that they had swung totally back in place and not leaving a huge gaping hole open? No? Well

Then it wont surprise you to discover that our mail is delivered late in the afternoon Or that our mailbox is placed just below the kitchen window, (conveniently) so the lady of the house, doing her daily dishes knows precisely when the mail has been delivered? Or, that in the middle of my girly-heaven rendition of the famous dancing scene from Risky Business, I turned around to see the carrier of said mail staring at me through the fore mentioned kitchen window? Yeah… I think you are starting to see the picture my Dear Friends

But just to insure that you have total absorption without any mystification Let me clarify just a bit further before I come to a long awaited end to my sad-yet-true tale.

When I went to school a few days later and told my teammates of this event that transpired in my life, the guys were immediately jumping to the conclusion of what a lucky mailman I have, and that I would certainly get my mail hand delivered from now on But being the (loveable) guys that they were, they had jumped to this slightly inaccurate vision as I was recounting what took place:

Sexy, curvy big chested Aislinn, with her hair gloriously swinging around in slow motion across her face. Her body gyrating with her hands on her thighs like in one of those heavy metal videos from the late 80s. Her tiny, lacy thong the only thing covering her body, and her perfectly made up face expressing pure rapture from the stolen moment

Did you hear that screeching of brakes? That was me reminding you all that it was really more like this:

Sexy, curvy big chested Aislinn, (Hey it IS still me, and it IS still my story) practicing new belly dancing movements to unheard music while narrowly missing the table and chairs as she spins off balance from the additional weight of the bath towel wrapped around her head. Her blouse and granny panties are twisting around her stumbling body while her gruesome, mascara strewn face is scrunching up in momentary concentration and then contorting to a look of total shock to match that of the poor hapless mailman who had the unfortunate timing to witness all of the above.

Only in my world do things like this happen. Oh well And this Dear Friends is what happens when I get a small taste of freedom. Perhaps I am better off with the pampering and spoiling of a well guarded show-pony (If you have ever met my Dad, then you would not wonder at this statement You would SOOO understand)

So for those of you Dear Friends I am visiting in January Please consider yourself forewarned. These things happen to me all the time. I only blog about a few of them Really Just ask some of my teammates (Only they better not tell because I have equal dirt on them)

So anyway, when we go out together and I am feeling my momentary freedom of being far away from home Please understand that strange and entertaining things are bound to happen.

For now Just know that I don’t think that the mailman has quite recovered.

We had a new mailman the next day, the old one has not returned... And when I passed the new mailman as I was going out to my car, he would not look at me when I said hello. He merely mumbled something and kept to his mail And my holiday packages that I received conformation of shipment have still not arrived

So life goes on the mail may never be the same but life goes on one small piece of freedom at a time