Update, Finally

Ah so.....

I can breathe for two seconds. Christmas is over, we got New Year's this weekend, then it's time to pack up and get the hell out. That's right, we're moving, again. This time, we're movin up, all the way to Plano. Snotty soccer moms and heroin addicted teenagers. Joygasm. I'm excited tho. Cos it's a new place, it's a n-i-c-e place, and it's close to where I work. Now I can ride all the freakin time.

So, Christmas went well, I was stupidly sick the whole time, but now I feel okay. I'll be off my meds just in time to get retarded for New Years. I have decided that Christmas sucks when you're grown up. You get less, and the stuff you do get, sucks more. Maybe I'm just a spoiled brat; that's a huge possibility. But we had a great time watching the kiddo's open their stuff, and a mostly wonderful time was had by all. I got to see my cousin's baby and some people I hadn't seen in a couple years, so that was good. I saw Kali and baby yesterday as well. She finally got rid of the conehead thing and is too cute, I think she's starting to look more like her dad. But anyway, I finally held her and it wasn't tragic, so thumbs up on that one.

So yeah, that's about it. Stay safe this weekend and leave the drunk driving to the retards and professionals.

Happy Thanksgiving

Indeed, it's been awhile since I've posted a blog. I'm a busy girl, and I guess I have a tendency to let stuff pile up so I can get it all out in one shot. So deal.

First of all....

Happy Thanksgiving guys. I had my domestic goddess-ness yesterday and will finish up today. Same thing every year: lunch at my mom's house and then the skipping around from house to house game. Today should not be too different. However, this year there will be the decorating mom's house with Christmas lights, traveling to Daniel's sister's house (on my Harley, oh yeah), then to his brother's house, then back home to decorate our crib. It's the first set of holidays we've got together and I can only hope all goes well with as little drama as possible. It's kind of like a test I think, but what do I know... All I know for sure is that if I don't choke my mother it will be a miracle.

The boy: all is well, still. This is scary, but good. I spoke to my hot British might-as-well-be-brother and all is well in his world as well. Write this down folks, for the first time in recorded history, life is going great for me and all my friends. Keep your fingers crossed for continued happiness.

Work: getting better. I got a promotion, yay. All I know for sure is that I will no longer be bored at work. The stress may kill me, but I'd rather be busier than I can handle than sitting at my desk doing nothing, waiting for the phone to ring. Congrats as well to Jackson.

So yeah, that's about it. OH! My best friend is still waiting to pop out that kid of hers. Her official due date is today, but we'll see when The Event happens. Also, if anyone in the area knows of a great place to live, let me know. We're getting the hell outta these apartments when my lease is up in July and we're researching already. We want awesome staff, quiet environment, and spacious if possible. Closer to my job would be cool (Plano) and my bike insurance would be cheaper (i.e. cut in half).

SO! Happy Native American Oppression Day. Enjoy the food, family, and all that. Don't forget to keep our troops in your hearts during the holidays, and let's hope they come home soon.

Much Love.

Hooray, Beer!

Word.

So I'm back from an oh-so-lovely weekend in Shiner, Texas. It was the second annual pilgrimage south of Austin for the ara's and I. We had a fucking blast guys, no bullshit.

It was also the first long trip/overnight out of town/concert event for myself and the boy. And I am happy to report he did so much better than I could have dreamed. We had fun, he wasn't all possessive and weird, and he put up with my friends, cracking jokes and fitting in like a dream. I do believe he can stay. He even stayed sober so none of us poor lil girls had to drive the mean streets back home. Seriously, how did I get so damn lucky?

Sorry you guys had to miss the fun. But there's always next year.

Sadness

OK, so here's the update. I've been meaning to post something for awhile now, but I'm lazy.

Life, in general, remains unchanged. The boy is fine, work still blows. The family is doing well, and overall, things are good. I suppose my title here was a bit misleading. Oops.

So, last week was probably the most traumatic week I've been through in awhile. Actually, the past two weeks. So, I get deathly sick. I'm off work for a couple days, at home in bed. I love the home in bed part. I do not love the part where time not spent in bed is spent doing the technicolor yawn. For days. Days. But I eventually got better, never figured out what happened, but ah well.

Then, last week, my baby boy almost dies. First you need to understand the phenomenon that is Scooter. He's a little ball of crazy energy. Always running around like an idoit, will eat anything you put in front of him. Crazy. But sweet. So one day, he stops eating, starts shaking, stops moving, and becomes a lump on the couch. We do blood work, we do lots of special drugs, and not a lot helps. We even had to talk about having to put the little guy down. So we did some "last ditch" drug cocktail, and it seems to be working a bit. We still don't know what's wrong with him, since I don't have a half billion dollars to run a million tests and stuff. But he's doing somewhat better, has started eating again, and will hopefully start gaining weight.

So yeah, I'm exhausted. And at work, which makes me so much more tired. I just want to sleep for a couple days, and I don't think that's too much to ask.

Happiness Is

Hockey pre-season game one today. Just hours away.

And now I have cable, and can watch all Stars games this season. It's orgasmic almost.

Have now moved the boy into the apartment. Apparently the place is smaller than I had previously realized. At least it is when you get two people's crap in it. But that's ok. If we can make this work for a half year or something then we should have no problem in a bigger place with two bedrooms.

So, yeah....that's about all I've got.

Work still sucks.

OK - Amended

So, let me start with a disclaimer. I don't have TV right now so all my news is coming from the internet radio station I listen to at work. I also check CNN and MSN and all that. Now to my point.

So I'm pretty sure we've established that I never really liked the president. But this week has sent me into a dimension of pissed off that I can't remember experiencing at another point in my life. I'm disgusted.

There is no reason this many people should have died. NO REASON. This wasn't a surprise attack. We knew this was coming. We knew days before that a hurricane was going to hit the Gulf Coast. So what do you do if you're the Governor of Louisiana? You send a letter to the president four days before it hits, requesting $5million to evacuate. Why? Because you know that 25% of your population lives below the poverty line and can't afford to get out on their own. So, if you're the president, how do you respond? You say no. Then go play golf.

So, let's issue a mandatory evacuation of the city, after everyone who can afford to do so on their own has already done so. But first, let's shut down Greyhound, the airport, and the trains. It's not like they can afford a ticket anyway.

So the storm hits, devastates, etc, just like a good hurricane would do. "Oh no, this is horrible. But don't worry, we'll pull through." But wait, you've slashed the budget for levee repair, maintenance, and upgrade by 80o pay for your daddy's war. Whoops. So they break, flood the city. Shocking.

So now 80 f NOLA is under water. People are sitting on their rooftops and crammed into a football stadium and convention center. No water, no food, no electricity. Then what? If you're the president, you wait a day, then fly over, and go back to your ranch. Then you go to Arizona to plug your new Rx drug plan, and play more golf. Then go to California and schmooze more buddies. Then back to DC after a well-deserved vacation.

In the meantime, what about FEMA? They deny anyone is at the Superdome until Thursday. THURSDAY. I knew the place was crammed on Tuesday evening, because the news media was all over it. So you have independent contractors and laborers volunteering to go down and help rescue. But wait, put them in a staging area and say, "We're gonna wait awhile on this."

So to recap. People are dying, bodies in the streets, rats eating the bodies, those still alive crammed worse than cattle in conditions I wouldn't wish on Osama Bin Laden. Then, four days later, you head down there for your goddamned photo-op. THEN you send in the relief. OH thank God, it's a miracle! Salvation is here.

Fuck. You.

He sat there, waiting for the perfect moment, to get his photo opportunity and let people die. "Oh well we didn't have the resources...." Bullshit. We evacuated lower Manhattan in a matter of HOURS on 9-11. Oh, wait. Those people weren't poor. Or black. Those people matter. This didn't happen in Florida last year. If there were 20,000 blonde white girls in the SuperDome, then this would be a non-issue.

This isn't Somalia. This is the fucking United States. These people aren't refugees, they're Americans. This is unacceptable. And, to be honest, it doesn't matter who the president is at this point. I would hope that citizens wouldn't tolerate this from any leader. This goes way beyond Republican/Democrat. This is a violation of fucking human rights.

Help was asked for a week ago. The governor tried to prepare. The mayor tried to prepare. But the poor city needed help, and the president and his red-tape cronies said no. They are directly responsible for the death of thousands.

Here's where I get childish and petty. But I can't express the amount of my frustration. I will bet money that he doesn't even know how to spell the name of the Pontchartrain. He came in to try and play hero, but this time no one believed his bullshit. The National Guard isn't around? Oh, that's cos we sent them to Iraq instead of more active military. Does no one else see how this entire administration has snowballed into something so out of control? We had better be damn grateful he can't do this for another four years. Am I the only one who sees this? Think back over his presidency. Think of the tragedies, injustice, etc. Now look at it in perspective, through the lens of what we now know. Thousands are dead, Americans and Middle Easterners alike, and it could have all been prevented. September 11th? We trained Al-Qaeda and gave them guns....and by we, I mean Bush, Sr. Look at the big picture. It's sad that we open our eyes only when our own citizens are affected on American soil. Wake the fuck up.

On the Subject of Love

Yeah, I fuckin said it. Shut up. It should probably have said "love."

Now, on to my point.....if that's what you want to call it. I actually have more of a question. Especially for you long-term relationship/married folks out there.

So, I used to be a hopeless romantic. Until a certain someone ruined all that. But whatever. These things happen, to everyone. So I can't exactly complain and groan on about how my life is empty and devoid of meaning cos I go my heart broken. It happens.

Here's the problem. For some reason, and I can't pinpoint what that reason is, since that time I haven't ever really used the bad "L" word seriously. Let me clarify, I haven't used it seriously with someone I was involved with. Family, best friends, etc, that's different. I have no problem saying it to them and meaning it.

So, I'm beginning to wonder what's happened, and I have a couple of theories. 1. I've become so jaded that I've disassociated myself with those types of feelings, and am thus not capable of them. 2. I haven't met anyone who makes me feel like that. 3. Maybe my definition of what love should look like has changed. I'm leaning towards number three. Let me explain.

I'm starting to think that in the naivete that is a 17-year old's mind, love is supposed to be one thing. This thing is defined by cheesy love songs and montages in romantic comedies and R&B music. Read: it's commercial. Maybe now I'm thinking that it's way more complicated than that. Maybe it's little moments that give you that rush, not having that light-headed dopey feeling all the time. Maybe I just appreciate different things now, or something. Maybe love isn't some all-encompassing romantic thing, but something much more real, tangible, if you will.

Now I've lost my train of thought. I have a really hard time putting what I'm thinking into words, and sometimes it comes out totally wrong and wierd. But if you get what I'm saying and you have input, let me know. Like I've said before, sometimes it's easier to see the truth from the outside, rather than when you're in the middle of the situation.

Things I Hate

Excessive amounts of anything on a sandwich or burger. Especially if it's mayo. Dear god. Thick, gooey, sometimes chunky goodness. I almost yarked.

I also hate whiny boys. "Oh poor me, life is awful, God hates me - even tho I don't believe in God - the bastard still hates me, I lose everything I love, why do you have to leave, why can't we just be happy together, let me share the darkness that is my tortured soul, please help me become normal, but fuck normal because it's overrated, but I love you because you're normal....." Jesus. Just shut the hell up. Please. Life sucks, get a helmet.

What else do I hate? Britney Spears. That retard is going to be someone's mother. For fuck's sake. I still maintain that in order to breed, you should have, oh I dunno, like 60 college credit hours. Why? Let me explain. This means you at least have the fortitude to commit to something, and see it thru. It also gurantees that you're not a total and complete retard. Also, it means that you're not sixteen and having babies. See? What's the problem? To be in charge of daily working activities of your peers you would need just as much, why then do you need nothing to be responsible for the entire life of another human?

Blah.

Having said all that.....

I love napkins, with which you can remove large globs of funky mayo. I also like boys who aren't completely damaged and don't whine about every little thing that ever went wrong in their lives. This is a good thing. This means you're healthy and know how to handle life, like the rest of the world. I also like people like me :-) People who realize that, at this current point in their lives, they are not ready to breed, nor do they want to. Why? I could list a few reasons, but that doesn't really matter. The point is making a conscious decision not to bring another (and I know I'm gonna catch hell for this) unnecessary life into this fucked up world.

Blah. Enough of that.

I'm happy right now. No, really, I am. Crazy, huh? The boy is wonderful (so far, I'll admit, I'm still waiting for the bottom to fall out). Work doesn't suck half as much as it could. And, that's about it, really.

I, Zombie

I don't remember the last time I've been this tired.

But whatever, I can hang. I'm hardcore like that.

Crazy week. Very crazy indeed. Those first few days back to work are always bad, but I think I got my ass handed to me this time.

But you know, I don't care. Cos life is...strangely good for the moment.

"What's the best thing to come out of Oklahoma?"

"I-35 South."

HA

RIP and stuff

Crap, not again...

Let me just say that I'm very tired of people dying. OK I know people die every day and stuff, that's not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about people my age whom I've known since we were small children. I'm also tired of this happening repeatedly in a short span of time.

Flashback to the Summer of '01. This is what I lovingly refer to as "The Summer of Death." A few friends, all dead within a month of each other, all tragic. Overdose, car accident, murder.

Back to the present. Three more friends, not so close together, but a little closer to home. Heart attack, unexplained medical problem, car accident.

It's really exhausting. And this doesn't include family members and people who, in all honesty, had lived full, productive lives. That's different. That is, as bad as it may sound, more acceptable; easier to deal with.

I was talking to a good friend of mine, and we agreed: People our age shouldn't be talking about who died that we grew up with. We should be talking about weddings and babies and stupid stuff like that. But, you know, shit happens and that's how things work out sometimes.

Wisdom for the Day

In the best stories, hope wins out against better judgment and the skeptics are proved wrong.

Take Disney movies, the 1980 U.S. Olympic hockey team or the Disney movie about the 1980 U.S. Olympic hockey team.

I Hate Yankees

A lot.

Especially self-righteous New England types who think Texan = Moron. Fuck you. Fuck you and your bad accent. Fuck your laws and your "well, where I live it's like this..." and fuck your stupid baseball team.

Check it out. I smoke, a lot. I drink, a lot. And guess what? I've been doing it this way for years, and absolutely no one is going to try and tell me that I can't. Especially in my own goddamn house. Again I say, fuck you.

I have never, ever had anyone question my judgment. You know why? Cos it's good. I'm not a fucktard who thinks it's neat to get wasted and just go for a drive. Jesus.

Insult my home, insult my intelligence, insult my family, insult my boy, insult my kids, insult my fucking truck....F-U-C-K-Y-O-U. I'm sure you're just upset because my dog has a bigger dick than you, but seriously, there are better ways of coping.

You hate Texas? Good. We hate you, too. Now go home.

Application to be my Boyfriend

Now, here is a simple questionnaire. Please fill out your answers and submit your application with a photograph of yourself and any pertinent information you feel I should know while processing your application. Keep in mind, there are no wrong answers, this just makes it easy for me to do a quick-analysis.

1. Do you have a high school education? If so, have you pursued any higher education?
2. Do you still live at home with your parents? If so, please explain why.
3. Is pot the most you ever experimented with as far as drugs go? Also, please give me your definition of what qualifies as a “drug.” Give examples if necessary.
4. Do you still realistically think that you’ll be a rock star someday?
5. Do you like dogs? Do you like cats?
6. Have you/would you watch either the entire Star Wars or Lord of the Rings trilogy in one sitting?
7. Could you name 5 Ozzy Osbourne songs before the Osbournes had a show on MTV? If so, did you stop wanting to after the show debuted?
8. Do you go to church? Is it on Swiss and Good Latimer?
9. Do you like hockey? If so, what’s your favorite team?
10. It’s Super Bowl Sunday. You are:
a. Throwing the best party ever! Beer, grilled meat, lots of people!
b. Attending a friend’s best party ever, because that’s where everyone is.
c. At home, watching the game with a few friends and some chips.
d. Doing anything but watching football.
11. How many girls have you slept with?
12. How many guys have you slept with?
13. Do you have an obsessive love for any one band? If so, please elaborate.
14. Do you hate country music?
15. Do you oppose racism but accept it as a viable source of humor?
16. Do you say “fuck” in front of your mom?
17. Can you cook? This means in a kitchen with real ingredients, not just on a grill.
18. You’re in love. She lives well over 500 miles away. The solution:
a. Pack up and move your ass. You care about her, not location.
b. Negotiate about who is moving.
c. She’s moving to you. If she cares enough, she will.
d. I don’t do long distance.
19. If you're going to the movies, do you get there in enough time to see the trailers?
20. Do you like Chinese food?
21. Do you have tattoo’s and/or piercings?
22. Your wife makes more money than you do:
a. This is a huge problem
b. Thank god, that means I don’t have to
c. Good for her, she deserves it.
d. She's probably sleeping with her boss.
23. Have you ever been arrested? If so, have you been convicted? Was it a felony? Did you go to jail?
24. Is beer an acceptable beverage for every occasion?
25. Essay: Explain, in 500 words or less, why Aerosmith and the Rolling Stones are or are not the exact same band.

Damn

And it was turning out to be such a good day...

So, you may have to reference previous blogs to understand this. But a select few will get it. I've had quite a few toys in my young life. Many were crappy and broken. One was perfect. Yet, this one was somehow unavailable. It was never really mine, but I got to play with it for awhile. Well, now said toy has been claimed by another little girl who wants to keep it forever. It's a sad day. But you know, life goes on. It was foreign made anyways...

On the Subject of Rain

So, it looks like the sky is going to fall out of itself any second. This makes me happy. Why? Because I love rain, and I love storms and all that fun crap.

Now this makes me reminsce on my days as a stupid teenager when I thought I was the proverbial shit.

So, and feel free to laugh ( I know I do ), there was a time when I thought I believed in magic a lot more than I really do. There was a time when I thought it was totally possible for a silly teenager in Texas to control the weather where she lived. And it didn't help that there were people around me who encouraged such silly behavior.

So, it occurs to me that there are still people, older than myself - meaning they should know better, who believe that this is still possible. Here's my theory. Yeah, storms may coincide with some people's emotions, but I think it's probably the opposite of what these yahoos think. I have a much easier time believing that the energy of the earth and magnetism created by extreme weather has an effect on human emotion, rather than vice versa. Nature is bigger than you, moron.

But I digress.

I'm still in the middle of packing all my stuff, getting ready for the big move of '05 in about a week. Such excitement. I've decided that I have entirely too much stuff, most of which is total crap. I'm doing my best to get rid of stuff, also known as the "moving purge." Lots of clothes have been given away, some furniture as well. Lots of kitchen crap is being disposed of, since I have way too much. So, it's going to look like this: Much bigger apartment, much less stuff to put in it. I like this. Someday I will overcome my family's packrat syndrome. Someday.

Being a week closer to moving means that I am a week closer to seeing my friend. This is a good thing. I think this is definitely a time for change, for me at least. My job is changing (slowly, but it should be a good thing), I'm moving, re-connecting with old friends, and I'm getting the itch for a new tat. This is always a good sign for me.

But anyways, it's lunch time, and I need a cigarette. Enjoy your Fourth of July weekend. I know I will.

I Love

Thunderstorms. A lot.

I also love playing in the rain at midnight.

I do not love what it does to my hair. But whatever, you only live once.

I also love people who force me to do what I really wanted to do in the first place, but wouldn't do on my own cos my stupid adult head gets in the way.

There are many other things I love about thunderstorms and rain and stuff, but, sadly those were lacking in my evening. But that's ok. Summer just started, right?

A Restraining Order is Just Another Way of Saying I Love You

I think I may have figured out something that I probably knew all along. But it feels good to get it back into my head again, a place it hasn't been since I was about 15.

Ready? Are you paying attention? Cos this is important.

I may have unlocked the secret to happiness within a relationship. Or at least what it should ideally look like. I never said I knew how to make it happen, that is for another day.

I listen to certain music from Back When and realize how much I related to a lot of what was being said. I remember thinking "That is how I want to feel." But here's the twist. It never occurred to me that that is how I wanted the other person to feel as well. Then one day my feeling was gone and other people were all but gushing with what I wasn't. There wasn't that balance. So I kinda closed off, intentionally or not, and haven't felt like that since. And that sucks.

So, timeline...I wanna do everything and be everything for him. He wants the same. Life is good. Fall out of love. I want him to be everything and do everything for me. Present. Neat how I can put eight years into three lines, huh?

This might not make sense to everyone, cos it's hard to put it into words when something like this clicks in your head. So, yeah. I'm not saying this was inspired by anyone in my life, quite the opposite, but that's ok. What matters is that it's now part of my waking consious again. And this is a Good Thing.

I now go back and look at past relationships and wonder if they would have been Forever had I pulled my head out of my ass for two seconds. But, such is life I suppose.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to conquer the world. Take my messages, I'll pick them up when I return.

The Wisdom of DFonten

I think I miss my old Team Leader. Life under the the DF style of management, or lack thereof, was a daily adventure. I miss our little chats about life, work, and the universe. They were especially entertaining on a busy Saturday, when I had more than enough work to keep me busy for more than my eight hours.

"So, Jen, you work a lot now that you're out of school."

"Yeah..."

"Ever get bored?"

"Yeah, now that I don't have a million things to do when I get home, it's kinda wierd..."

"You need a hobby."

"And what, in your infinite wisdom, should that hobby be?"

"Triathalons."

"No."

"How about a drug habit?"

Silence....

Amazing, isn't it? Welcome to my world. But you know, he may have been on to something. I can't possibly tell you how many times I've just sat down, totally exhausted with life in general, and wondered why I quit doing drugs. Ask my best friend. She, too, wonders why we quit. So now I'm thinking, what the hell...let's develop a drug habit again! Only this time, let's make it super-interesting! How about heroin! You know, cos the goal is to tread new ground here. Go for the gusto, take it to the limit, do it right, etc etc etc.

Or maybe I'll just read a book.

The Wisdom of Scott

Let me preface this by saying that only a handful of you, if that many will understand this. And I think I kinda like it that way.

Toys. Ah, remember childhood? For my generation it was GI Joes, My Little Pony, Pound Puppies, Stretch Armstrong, and Micro Machines. Yes, Micro Machines. I had them, I loved them. Shut up.

Now, there were toys that were awesome, and toys that sucked, and apparently we haven't outgrown the urge to want new ones, metaphorically. But you remember the deal, get a new toy, play with it till your eyes bled, which was about a week, maybe two, then toss it into the pile with all the others. But that's not my point. My point is, there are good toys and there are crap toys. For example, the Etch-A-Sketch is a good toy. You can be creative, express yourself, hone your hand-eye skills, and there have been great works of art that have come from this toy. Bonus? If you don't like what you see, you can just shake things up and make it all go away. Lite Brite, also a good toy. The Easy Bake Oven, not a good toy, unless you want (quoting Scott) "quarter-sized cookies and pancacke sized brownie loafs or something. You can't make spaghetti in an Easy Bake Oven." Same for the Snoopy Sno Cone machine. Oh yeah, we all had one, but was it really all that great of a plan? Things get messy and you end up with sticky syrupy crap all over you and the paper cup gets mushy and tears open and then you're just sticky and messy sad. Because your sno cone melted. The Slinky is a toss-up.

Anyway, I guess my point is that we really haven't changed all that much. I think I have, at present, a sno cone machine and a slinky. And you know, that's all well and good, but what if I really want an Etch-A-Sketch? Then we have a problem, cos my mommy didn't buy me one of those, and all the other kids have one and now I'm sitting here all pissed off cos I'm stuck with a stupid metal coil instead of what I really want. And everyone looks at my toy, and they feel pity. And dammit I don't want pity, I want a new toy! While it may not be an Etch-A-Sketch, I want that one toy that makes you forget about all your other toys.

Ultimately I think it kinda comes down to this. I'm playing with Barbies and Pound Puppies. I want GI Joe.

Icky

I have decided that I'm such a guy it's not even freakin funny. Wonderful. Maybe it's cos I've had to be the dominant force in every damn relationship I've had, maybe it's just how I'm wired. I don't know, it doesn't really matter why, it just matters that it is.

How do I know this. Check it. I think I'm a total commitmentphobe. Maybe it's cos anyone about whom I've even entertained the idea of marriage about has been totally unqualified (See: who I don't want to meet). Or maybe I really just can't commit to one person, or can't get close to one person. Who knows if it'll be like that forever, but that's how it is right now. Which leads me to this very guy-ish lifestyle. The second I think I might start actually falling for someone, or feeling something other than "I wanna jump your bones" then I bolt. It's kinda like that Meat Loaf song...."I want you, I need you, but there ain't no way I'm ever gonna love you." But hey, don't be sad boys, cos y'know, two out of three ain't bad.....

I guess somewhere in my subconscious I know that when the perfect person does indeed materialize then all that other crap will just melt away. In theory. Who knows. Maybe there was a time when I was just so completely sure that I knew exactly what it would like like, and nothing has since then. And that's damn annoying.

Seriously, this lesbian thing isn't looking too bad. If only I didn't like boys so freakin much. Maybe that's the problem. Too many boys. All boys, all still about 17 in thier heads, both of them. I know half of it is my fault, cos I like the boys that will never be good for me. Someday I'll learn they're called Bad Boys for a fucking reason. But god they're fun. Besides, and anyone who thinks I'm too much like a sister right now might wanna cover their ears, good boys aren't good lovers. Never found one. I'm hard to deal with, I need someone pretty hard core, or I'll walk all over you. So yeah...

And I've also become quite the snob. See again, who I don't want to meet. I've dated too many of the wrong people, and I'm tired to shit of it. Potheads, pillheads, cokeheads, losers, lazy boys, freeloaders, puppies. Oh dear god am I a puppy magnet. I'd like to find someone who doesn't swear undying love after two weeks, and oh god I can't live without you if you leave I'll just goddamned die. Fine, just don't get blood on my carpet.

The Wisdom of Children

You know, I think we were all on to something before we grew up and became members of the establishment.

Think about this with me, if you will. As a child, you trusted everyone, you never in a million years thought anyone would intentionally hurt someone else, you trusted your instincts, and boys had cooties. What was so wrong about any of that?

A lot of people seem to think that some women are, and have always been man-hating nightmares. Not so. Here's the thing. No one came out of the womb hating men. It's not like you were born and just decided on the playground someday at the age of two that all men were cheating assholes, did you? No, you didn't. You thought they were gross cos they ate bugs. Big deal. You still liked them just the same. Cos they were kinda cute and icky all at the very same time.

When we were born, we were so trusting, especially of ourselves. We had good instincts and gut reactions. It was somewhere in the process of growing up that we were taught to be rational, and that sucks. We were taught to effectively ignore everything we instinctively felt. We believed in magic, fairies, unicorns, and God. Yeah, all at the same time, and there was nothing wrong with it. I just want to know when in the course of a lifetime that distinctive moment comes when you quit believing in what you don't see.

And I think the unfortunate answer to all of this is: adults. Someone, at some point told us we were silly, or that we needed to grow up, and everything changed. Our tiny little hearts got broken, we cried about it, and then we got assimilated. And I think that sucks. A lot.

Deep down, I really am that shallow

For some reason tonite has turned into one of those nights that I hate. I sit here, start thinking, and then just totally lose it. I start reflecting on life, love, and the universe. By that I mean, me. I bust out the microscope and try to get totally honest with myself. Which scares the fuck out of me because half the time I hate what I see. So, here goes

I'm pretty sure I hate me. I have this great image in my head of who I am, but it turns out that it's really just who I think I want to be. And it probably couldn't be further from the truth. The truth is, I'm a total fucking mess. I'm spoiled, I know it. Totally self-centered and mean, really. I want to be this crazy independent hardcore woman, and I'm really just this little child who is so scared shitless of everything that it's almost cripplng.
I'm totally over-dramatic about the stupidest little things. I blow shit way the hell out of proportion, I'm a jealous freak. I'm totally unrealistic. I imagine this great, all-encompassing epic love story that will one day be my life but I know deep down it'll all end up like "Riding in Cars with Boys." Why? Because I make shit decisions out of some stupidly twisted need to belong to something, or someone, who knows.
I have the worst self-esteem in the world, but I over-compensate by being totally obnoxious. Really. In my head I'm wicked smart and will be successful beyond belief and have more money than god, but I'm sure I'll end up living paycheck to paycheck for the rest of my life. I'm sure I've got potential to be a total bombshell but I have no self-control so diets and shit don't work. Let me re-phrase, I can't stick with them. I can't really stick with anything that's good for me. I'll never quit smoking because I'm really weak and I need something outside of myself to provide some kind of happiness or release or something. I have an addictive personality and obsess over stupid things like a fourteen year old. I'm probably a compulsive liar. Allow me to explain. I'll be painfully honest with everyone but myself. I'll never take my own advice. Why? Cos I know exactly what to say to get the perfect response from someone or to motivate them or whatever. I should have never taken psychology. That, or I'm totally open with others so I don't have to focus on myself. I wallow in self-pity a lot when I know I should just suck it up and fix what's fucked up. (See: this entire entry).
Maybe someday I'll figure out the secret to happiness. Maybe I already know exactly what I need to do and need to stop doing, but right now I'm too immature to take the steps to fix shit. I'm totally selfish and do a lot of stuff just because I want to, or because I think I want to. It's probably because it feels good at the time and makes me laugh. I'm petty like that. I treat guys like shit, and then I'm surprised when they do so in return.
My closest friends probably don't know shit about me, really. Maybe one does, and that's cos she's probably the only person who's totally honest with herself and everyone else and I love her for that. I wouldn't be alive without her. She's my hero. I love her and hate her at the same time, probably because I'm jealous.
And I'm sure this is all a phase and it will pass and I'll be back to my normal delusional self in the morning. But it feels pretty cool to rip down all the fake crap and get down to the true dirt of who I am. I do it a lot. So why, I wonder am I still like this? Cos that's just who I am. Neat.
But I digress...

Good Weekend

Indeed. It was a good weekend, sort of. Many parts totally indescribable for my purposes here. But trust me, good stuff. Got ride around quite a bit on Sunday with The Boys and then by myself. I think I fell in love with riding again - AWESOME - because I was starting to kinda not care, and that is never cool. However, I did have some minor frustration with the stupid HD dealership, but it will all be worked out soon. Or they will be sorry, very sorry *sounds of doom music* Anyway, I also forgot how sexy goth could be. But I remember now, despite Scott and his rantings. I'll give you that one tho, it can be a little creepy, the style has its benefits, so you hush. So yeah, great weekend. All I have to do is make sure the following week doesn't blow ass and make me hate the world again. Wish me luck.

Today....and everything that goes with it.

Ick. I feel like total ass right now. Headache from hell and it hurts to open my eyes. Neat. But what am I doing? I'm at work. Cos I'm hardcore. And I have no sick days left. Bastards. I don't love this. On a better note, saw last night that Rescue Me is coming back for a second season starting in June. This makes me happy. If you've never seen it, give it a shot. Denis Leary, FDNY, comedy, drama, etc. Some people hate it, but I loved it. It comes on FX and I don't know what day/time cos that crap is always changing. But this made me happy for a moment. And then I sneezed and it was all over. So tonight I go hang with all the kids from high school. Yay. Feel the excitement, really. Some I don't mind, we're still pretty tight. But most are morons who think it's totally cool to bring their kids to these kinds of events, and it's totally not. I don't want to have a nice buzz going and be interrupted by screaming urchins. But that will happen. And I don't want to sit all night and hear stories about their marriages and kids and blah blah blah. Neat. Good for you. Congrats, you know how to fuck and get pregnant. Your momma must be so proud. Then I get to listen to the "So, are you dating anyone right now" questions and everything that follows with all that. And I get to explain, yet again....No, not really, don't have time don't really want to, I didn't marry the first guy I slept with like half you idiots, yeah I really do enjoy being single, way more fun, yada yada. They smile, nod like they agree, but are still thinking "loser." Whatever. I am so sick to shit of getting these "oh you poor thing" looks and comments cos I'm not freakin married yet. Fuck off. I chose to get my education instead, and I refuse to feel bad about that. Jesus fucking Christ. Anyway, enough of that. I think I feel better. I would definitely feel better if I was at home in bed. Drunk. :-) So yeah, good times, good times.

Frustration

Neat. So I've been talking to my mom about the possiblities and limitations of moving back home. Logistically, it's a nightmare. Upon my moving out three years ago, my room was instantly converted into her craft/storage room. It would take a week or two just to clean it out, clean out our storage shed, move everything, find a place for most of my furniture, and then move the minutest amounts of my stuff back in. The rest goes to storage as well. Then there's the issue of actually telling my grandmother I have a motorcycle, cos I'd have to store it there. She would have to put up with my pups as well. So, I get the "Honey you know you're always welcome" speech along with the unspoken "Please don't come back and uproot our lives." So yeah. I have also come to realize that I hate my job. A lot. I wasn't totally happy with it before, but now it's becoming a beat down just to get up and drag my ass in every day. That is probably compounded with the fact that I may have the best opportunity that I may ever have coming just around the corner. But a lot is up in the air right now, so I think I might just be restless. And I'm not patient. At all. Ever. I think I just want change, and lots of it. I want a different apartment, a different job, and a different boy. Is that too much to ask?

Dance

Let's all dance our little dance and run and jump and skip and prance and look to the sun to melt our hearts and do nothing as it burns our eyes and our skin and our souls. Let's all dance our little dance and sprint to find caves to hide our face and duck into shadows to hide our wounds and grovel in our hate and misery and harden our hearts. Let's all wash our little hands and dance in the mud made from sands and pray that the rain will clean us and spread our arms and mis our tears and lose ourselves. Let's all dance our little dance and live our little lives and never question why things are and why it hurts so bad and why we do it to ourselves, running in circles and never changing while we slowly die and kill ourselves and kill each other and...

Lie to Yourself

Alone in the dark with only fading memories 
An elaborate scheme to further entangle the trappings of an already unkempt mind 
Wrap yourself in those lies 
Those eyes 
Like a warm blanket 
How long since you've seen this side of pain 
Not long enough, because it's still so surprising 
Just be quiet, tell yourself no harm has been done 
And go to sleep.

Argh

So, I've been thinking about a lot lately. You know: life, love, the universe. And I am getting so frustrated with where I am right now. I always thought that at this point in my life I would have done more, or seen more, or something. I dunno, maybe I'm just in a mood tonight. But this stupid feeling always comes back when I hear new gossip from "the kids" from high school. So and so got married, so and so is pregnant, so and so got this new job. It seems like I have to weekly remind myself that I'm not a freak for not being married or having kids at the age of freakin 22. A lot of that pressure comes from living in the stupid Bible Belt and everyone marrying their high school sweethearts and blah blah blah. Whatever, high school was a joke and so were most of the guys. They still are.