Now that I’ve managed to poetically rap my way through the daily prompt- I’m going to try something new with the platform.

Normally I would just bitch and complain on some rambling nonsense attached to the daily prompt and call it good. Honestly, that is because I am fucking lazy.

Today, I thought about splitting it up and actually letting the virtual world get to know Trailer Trash Annie.

Those who have been following us for a minute, thank you for putting up with our identity crisis. We’ve bounced from Chef V to You’re Heavily Father and landed right here in the beautiful land yacht community of Sendona Sunsets with my true rockabilly form, Trailer Trash Annie.

To me, she’s perfect. The online presence of that tiny voice in my head that society has programmed to stay in me. Although, with my superpowers of autism I have always lacked the speed bump and filter between my brain and my teeth. A hearty Thanks to the United States Air Force for career that taught me the importance of sarcasm and preservation-al discipline at the ripe age of 18… and the birth of my openly noticeable anxiety.

See that face. That’s what I look like when I’m completely overwhelmed and riddled with anxiety.

I had a lot of fun once I was able to control myself and focus, but at this point I was just trying not to cry. Luckily, I was with a group of friends and I had my Biggie there to support me.

Trailer Trash Annie is everything inside me. She is a composite of every version of me through all of the points that make one’s life’s memories.

What makes this secondary post so much fun is that I get to share a piece of my history. Something that just casual daily prompt readers may not fully get, but is nearly a kernal for readers truly interested in getting to know me.

I’m going to take an opportunity to open myself up on this first post by explaining the graphical meaning behind Trailer Trash Annie.

There she is, the Trailer Trash Barbie in her desert Barbie dream home. Post Script, she’s lives up holler behind Weird Barbie’s place. IMO best part of the movie, but no spoilers if you haven’t already. Also, shame on you. It’s now streaming. Go watch it, you ain’t gotta tell nobody nothin.

Clearly, as a 40-something female I was raised with Barbie. Back in the 80’s, Barbie to me was something I could never achieve. Here was this plastic doll, perfectly moulded to Sir Mix Alots dream 36x24x36 with long blond hair and big round eyes and I was a curly haired German child with a homemade bowl cut and someone else’s homogeneously genetic parents. Yes, I have always known that I was adopted. They had no choice to tell me because I look NOTHING like the family I was raised with. Try to imagine looking in the mirror and seeing a round face, blond curls and blue eyes but all you see around you is the beauty of middle eastern toned skin and lush silky black hair.

I could move like them, talk like them but when I matured I did not naturally thin out like them. I was three dress sizes larger than the other girls at my own Bat Mitzvah and I was the only girl with more interest in soccer than boys at that age.

In the Tacoma Jewish Community, I was made fun of pretty harshly by children my age. I had been held back a year because my birthday lands right after the cut off for the class above me. Yet, I was kept with the children my own age during my religious education that were maturing through public school a year ahead of me.

Undiagnosed, my parents couldn’t understand why I was maturing to the level of the children I was most exposed to at public school and it was causing me to be bullied by the children I had been exposed to since my adoption.

The Trailer Trash Annie Barbie signifies all of the phases that I have been through during this life, and all those to come. The plastic child printed on the faded leather jacket and clearly pregnant belly signifies my place in life as a 3 time mother. The collabration of colors between her rollers and her makeup signify the heretary Autism that has always played a significant role in my center of strength, self preservation and allows me the openness to share my experiences without shame or guilt. It’s a pretty awesome super power to find out you have in your 40s, when you’ve just been written off as the child that has always been “impossible to deal with”.

The cherry printed bikini top, high collared leather jacket and lit cigarette pay homage to my unshakeable rockabilly roots and the 17 years I dedicated to the great wilderness in West Virginia and worldwide. This girl started traveling internationally when she was 16 and celebrated her 18th during Field Training in Basic Training. She’s snuck on flights to South Korea, and even managed to nearly fuck up her whole life by getting married at the US and South Korean Embassies. She’s been physically and mentally abused by men, but even more so by herself. Her family long ago distanced themselves, and her biological family doubts her blood claim, very seriously.

Yet, after a pretty damaging and catastrophic military career, the disappointment of a 3 year and 17 year marriage, the impossibilities of finding pure passion, completing a lifelong mission to unseal a closed privatized adoption, fighting to properly diagnose myself and all three of my children and driving my way across the country to escape an abusive relationship… she has landed in the uniquely beautiful landscape of Phoenix. Our Barbie is relaxing at the Arizona Botanical Garden where she landed in order to start her journey to find her personal peace.

That about sums up today’s edition of Trailer Trash Annie. What adventure would you like me to take you on tomorrow, or maybe Wednesday?

I always love to hear from you! Don’t be shy and leave me an 💡