That was always one of Mama’s favorite expressions. She used it a lot when referring to crazy people, homosexuals,blacks,christians,me, any of my friends or teachers,neighbors,customers that would come into our store and bounce checks,or Ronald Reagan. Oh, and me.
Once I got past the sort of emotionally abusive tone of the cliche, I found that it is such a humorously befitting metaphor of my rather screwball life. I have decided to use it as the working title for my upcoming memoir- “Nuttier Than A Damn Fruitcake: Real-Life Revelations of America’s Most Beloved (Although Largely Unknown) Loopy Loon” .
I believe that sharing my stories of hardship, lunacy and folly will help other lonesome neurotics realize they are not the only ones who struggle with mood swings, addictions, self-destructive behaviors, family woes and failed relationships. They will also find tasty recipes for more than 500 decadent cupcake creations, and a section on how to make the most insanely great latch hook rugs inspired by Andy Warhol.
This is the first step for me on my pathway to riches by way of mentoring others. I should be finished writing my book around the same time I complete my Life Coach certification from that Sally Struthers Correspondence School, so I should be good to go and ready to spread my good news of hope in the face of inadequacy to the masses. I feel so good about myself. Not so good about all the times I’ve used the word “good” in this paragraph. No bueno.