Wednesday, July 31, 2013

Hence the name....

What's a twisted sister?

I have chosen the name Twisted Sister for many reasons, not the least of which is to honor the greatest decade music has ever known: the 80's. I'm not their biggest fan; I can't think of any songs other than, "We're Not Gonna Take It." But the name is applicable in other ways, so, I am claiming it as my own!

I grew up in a very small, non-denominational church where it was common to refer to one another by the titles Sister and Brother. It was very natural and not at all weird (I am not of the same ilk as Kenneth from 30 Rock, though I love him dearly and quote him often!). I grew up with Sister Roberts and Brother Carroll. Adults would use first names, as in "Sister Valerie" and "Brother Ronnie." This designates others as being our family in the sense that we both belong to God as believers.

Twisted is a word that describes politely and briefly the natural state of my hair, which has been discussed, poked, ironed, curled, pulled, conditioned, oiled, straightened, flattened, braided, ponytailed, and made fun of to the point that it has its own identity. And, on a day with enough humidity, could write its OWN blog! I have naturally curly hair that is spiraled, as though permed on drinking straws.

Good evening, Blogville (pop. 28,000,000)!

Take me to your reader......

I have arrived at this place after frustrations too many to number, too horrific to describe, and too soul-crushing to bear. Twice today my dumb phone has simply gone black after I had composed elaborate texts describing my thoughts in exquisite detail! Once, a comment that I wanted to make on another blog just...evaporated....into cyberspace because the comments were Facebook-based. Facebook hates me. Or my computer does. If I try to enter a comment or status beyond 4 lines in length, the whole thing freezes up, and I lose all of my content. I feel silenced, strangled, ignored, unheard. But, I have a LOT to say, mostly unsolicited advice and esoteric observations. Join me, will you, gentle reader?