Oh Perspective, Up Yours!!

I do need some X-Ray Spex.  (See what I did there?  Eh?)

This weekend is going to be bizarretown for sure.  First year with no Karaoke Kritsmits in like, 6 years except for the year we got snowed out.  That's just the way it goes, I suppose.  *lesigh*

I wish my life would come back from the Twilight Zone. 

I joined Weight Watchers.  According to the "How Fat Are You" test I took, I need to lose 74 lbs to be at the very tippy top of my healthy weight range.  I feel like this would make me look like a stick with ass attached.  Although it would actually put me where I weighed when Z and I got married, and that wouldn't be too bad.

I want to make cookies like this one I stole from the internets. 

MERRY CHRISTMAS, NOM NOM NOM!!

Blargish

I think I'm going to diagnose myself with Seasonal Affective Disorder.  I have depression year round (of course, duh) but this time of year I just can't shake myself of the gloomies.  Last winter was kind of epic as far as me being a crazy person and this year is not the same, but still...I have a hard time smiling.  Or getting up the gumption to do social things.  Or feeling bad for bailing on said social things.  And recognizing it does little to change it. 

It might also be that out of this entire shit year, December does NOT want to be left out and is doing its best to outdo the rest of the months.  Le sigh. 

On a happy note, my meth head neighbor came to bum a cigarette from me this morning and his index and middle fingers were BLACK.  I assume from smoking meth, but I've really only "hung out" with people who would shoot meth, and that wasn't exactly on a regular basis.  :)  He also asked if they were doing okay with the parking situation, because they don't want to piss me off.

That's RIGHT they don't. 

Watch out, meth heads.  I will bring down the hammer of parking JUSTICE on yo' asses! 

Sometimes you just need a reminder

Why WOULDN'T You Talk to a Complete Stranger Like This?

Conversation with a customer yesterday.  Paraphrased, because my memory is not that great. 

Judgy McJudgerson: If you knew then what you know now, would you still defile your body?

Me:  Uh...I don't think I've ever defiled my own body in my whole life.

Judgy:  You most certainly have.
            You don't know what the body is for, do you?

Me:  I guess I don't!

Judgy:  You're not a Christian...are you...

Me:  Um.  You have a good day, sir.

I wish I'd had something more clever as a response, but I'm just not comfortable discussing my religious beliefs or lack thereof with total strangers who are handing me money for services rendered.  (Trash service, perverts.)  But it was an EXCELLENT start to my Thursday evening. 

Picture time!  We'll just keep on with the inappropriacy (it's a word) trend. 

I think the woman holding this baby is missing a leg!!

Embracing My King Sized Bed

Every once in a while, I get the urge to put myself out there and let people tell me how awesome I am.  For some reason, each time I do this, online dating seems like the way to go.  Since I am poor, I go to (the free) OkCupid.  It has games and quizzes and such.  It's low pressure and full of men desperate for any sort of female contact.

The problem comes in that sometimes, you get what you pay for. 

In the 4 or 5 times I have had a profile, I have met some excellent people.  The Jew, the Yeti, the original Simon, weird narrow shoulder guy.  I have also met some super creepers.  Fairy Fort Iowa Boy for example.  He drove down to see me for one evening and then got angry because

1. I wouldn't let him move into my basement and
2. I didn't understand that the heart he drew on a piece of construction paper and left folded up on my pillow meant that we were a couple even though he had never heard of Miller Lite and thought living in my basement was a good idea. 

There was also the person who said I gave him herpes.  (For the record, I don't have herpes.)

And then there was very short small dick date rape guy.  He was a treat. 

For the most part though, it's not even THAT interesting.  It's generally just an exercise in disappointment.  Lots of looking at cute boys who have no conversation in them or boys that would make great friends, but if you reply to the email they will absolutely get the wrong idea.

And eventually comes the realization that Kansas City is just WAY too small of a town for online dating.  The odds of running into a random online email in real life is pretty high.  And then sometimes you run into them at a friend's party.  That's just awkward.

As usual, I lost interest pretty quickly with the whole process.  About a month ago I "disabled" my profile.  Which is what you do when you think you MIGHT want to start it up again sometime in the future, and don't want to go through the process of rewriting all of your awesome attributes.  Seriously.  I can only be clever so many times.  But for now, I feel satisfied with myself.  Things are good.  Actually better than they have been in a long time.

And that's it.  I had to reactivate my profile to ask someone a question and it won't let me shut it down again for a week.  Got me thinking about how disinterested I am in the whole thing.

Let's end on a picture, shall we?  Nom.

Skipping Straight to the Moral

You can love someone unconditionally.
You can be their biggest fan.
You can stick up for them in every situation.
You can trust them.
You can be drop everything to be there for them.
You can believe in their greatness.

In the end,
They will always be selfish beyond understanding.
They will always break your heart.

In the end, you will always end up looking like a fool.

There's More to Life than Butterflies

Sometimes a girl finds a boy she likes, despite all sense and reason.
She will often tell herself that their similarities are enough to counteract their differences.
She will convince herself that what he says make sense, and that trying new things is part of growing as a person.

And then she will realize that some differences cannot be overcome.
And that being someone's one and only is not too much to ask, especially when she was willing to compromise, and he was not.

So, this girl can say she tried.
And knows what is and is not good for her.

And leaves you with a mantis friend.

So busy, I can't even be self-indulgent!

It's been a month and a half since my last entry into this here narcissistic journal.  Vacations have been taken, friends have been made, lives have been forever altered.  I went on a date.  He compared my ass to the Empire Strikes Back.  I'm taking it as a compliment.

Summer is over.  I feel my brain starting to drift, like it did last year.  Hopefully recognition of the problem will help stave off the problem.  :)  Until something awful happens, I've just gotta keep on keepin' on.

Y'know, like ya do. 

Oh, something fun.  I was cleaning out my car yesterday and drug dealer neighbor came over and asked to use my phone to call his dad.  I didn't have it with me, and told him as much.  He said his "lady" friend had a toothache and they'd been waiting three hours for his father to come take her to the ER, but someone had stolen her phone so they couldn't get a hold of him.

Being a sucker for tooth pain, I went and got my phone for him.  (*sigh*)  While he was talking to his father, she started talking. 

As methheads are wont to do. 

She said that she had broken her tooth off and needed more pain pills, because she had sold all of hers, and boyfriend's dad refused to pay her back for them. 

So, kids, the moral of the story is...

Oh fuck, I don't even know any more.  Hugs not drugs?  Methheads will tell you their life story whether you give a shit or not?  You too can enable your druggie neighbors?  Whatever the moral is, I'm not going to miss them when they eventually go to jail. 

The Saga of Stupid Continues

My neighbors have come back with their full meth fueled force.  That of course means they are thoughtless and half-assedly try to piss me off but get distracted partway through by...meth.  It's a horrible drug, but may work in my favor in this instance.

I've been having minor problems with them lately.  Fat no-neck never leaves her steps because it takes too much effort lady has been letting her dog shit in my yard.  When I asked her to stop, "someone" cut my garden hose and turned the spigot all the way on.  There has been a LOT of parking in my lot.  I talked to a couple of them the other day and they assured me it was the first time, and it would never happen again.

Right.  Because apparently I am as dumb as they are.

Roommate has been sick all week and every time he has left the house, he has come back to cars parked in our spots.  They see him, look scared, and move their cars.  Yesterday, he and girl that stays with us sometimes parked with their cars spread out as faaaaaar as they could, reducing our available parking from 4 spots to 3.  Which one of the neighbors promptly filled.  So, when I got home from work, I had NO choice but to park behind car that does not belong on my property!  I mean really, where did they expect me to go?  A few minutes later, I saw two very confused looking people walk out of fat no-neck lady's apartment.  Roommate and girl ran to the bathroom window to see, and then roommate informed they were at the back door.

I will admit...I went into that conversation with an attitude.  These people could have kicked my ass.  For about 2 minutes until they got distracted by meth.  I told them that the next time they parked in my lot I would have them towed.  And then lost my keys so they had to wait to leave.

Later in the evening, fat no-neck lady once again let her dog shit in my yard.  With me standing at the window staring at her, and BFF standing outside staring at her.  SOOOOOOOO FRUSTRATING!!!!!  I temporarily relieved this stress by taking the dog shit and throwing it back on her sidewalk.  I would like to say that next time, I will put it right outside her door, but I'm just not (really) that type of person.  I don't LIKE being the asshole.  I don't like being the bitch neighbor.

But as I have previously stated, I sure as shit will if I have to.

Talked to a tow truck driver who I will shortly be signing a contract with so that any time someone who I don't know parks there, I can call and have them legally towed.  I will contact their landlord and let him know that if anything happens to my property I will find a way to hold him responsible.  And I will plant bushes on the property line.  Preferably really tall ones that attract bees.

Six Month Checkup

I spent all week working on a post about the thing that happened on January 13.  And today, I decided that it's not worth it to woe is me about anymore.  I'm feeling motivated about my house.  I'm getting shit done.  I'm still...me, which means my mind and heart are nowhere near where I wish them to be, but it's okay.  How many people can actually say they do and get everything that they want? 

Life is good.  That's all that matters.  And whether it's six more months, or six years or sixty, I know who I am and that I am worthy.  Whether he realizes it or not is inconsequential. 

Heart Box

The Choices We Face

My favorite author, Terry Pratchett, found out he has Alzheimer's in 2008.  Without even asking my opinion, he has decided to consider the option of assisted suicide.  He made a documentary on it.  This is a clip from it which shows the first broadcast assisted suicide in the UK.  I have no idea if we've had them in the US.

The idea of being content and resolved enough to take your own life is fascinating to me.  Not angsty teenaged depression suicide, but this life holds no more good things suicide.  For me it seems like it would HAVE to be a "I have accomplished every possible thing I ever considered accomplishing including boning Henry Rollins" sort of situation.  It's just beyond real comprehension. 

I really hope they show the full documentary in the US at some point.  I ALSO hope they find a cure/management for Alzheimer's sometime very soon.  1.  Because my chances of getting it are preeeetty good and 2.  Because I want more Discworld books. 


 CNN article on documentary
Terry Pratchett interview

Creber

Bleeding happiness from his zombie bellybutton

Untitled

 I really only like the last 2 lines of this, but the whole thing is true.   For so many of us. 


Rambling thoughts consume me
I can’t keep anything straight
No longer stuck,
But willfully standing still

My strength stands in so many places
My weakness lies with you

Happy Day!

I just scored a sweet HP Mini for which to write things.  This makes me a happy zombie mama.  Since this is the first time I've had at work to type anything not trash related.  Aaaaaaand, time's up.

Customer Service

Customer:  Next week will Tuesday's pick up be on Tuesday?

Me:  We're a day delayed because of the holiday.

Customer:  Well, I knew that.  I just didn't know...will it be Wednesday?

Me:  ...Yes.

Pirate Zombies in Love

Braaaaaaaains, matey!

Pretty Lady

Luna

Kick and Scratch (Figuratively, of course)

Anyone who has been to my house knows that I do not have a driveway, per se.  It's a parking lot, large enough to hold 4 or 5 cars, depending on how badly we park, in the alley behind my house.  One one side of me is a house and on the other side is a converted house made into apartments.  The people in the house are awesome.  They blast their bad music, have 7 teeth among them, offer to share their bbq, and trim my trees. 

The apartment dwellers are another story.  The place seems to be a revolving door of....well, trash.  I don't think these people even stay long enough to get evicted.  Great for people watching.  Not so great for living near.

A new crop came in a few months ago.  Generally quiet but with an edge of annoying.  For some reason they have decided that my parking area, because we don't use all spots all the time, are open for them to park their cars.  Roommate and I have both come home from work several times to find our spots taken.  Wednesday night I got home to find a large truck parked damn near on top of roomie's car.  It was still there Thursday morning, complete with my (very nice) note on its windshield.

Now, you might say, what's the big deal?  You don't use all the spots. 

Nope sure don't.  But I sure as shit OWN all the spots.  And if my parking area were driveway shaped, I highly doubt they would be parking in it.

Last night, Roommate got home and sent me a text saying "Boy, they sure like parking in our spots."

*sigh*

I put on my flip flops, walked out in the rain and saw a green car parked VERY close to my car with two occupants inside.  I walked up to the driver's window and waved.  Made the "roll down your fucking window" motion and waited as the kid inside looked very confused. 

Me:  "Can I help you with something?"
Kid:  "No."
Me:  "Then would you mind getting out of my parking lot?"
Kid:  "Sure."

I walked to my fence, turned around and waited a solid 3 minutes for him to start his car as he stared at me, I assume waiting for me to go inside.  Poor thing could barely back his piece of shit car out of the spot.  His girlfriend was laughing at me as they pulled away, and I'm sure I did look like the crazy bitch neighbor.  Someday, they'll have shitty neighbors they have to defend their space against.  Or more likely they'll be in jail and they'll have to shank someone to keep them out of their anus.  Either way, they'll understand.

Roommate and I posted my newly purchased "No Parking" signs.  Put the police station # in my phone just in case. 

Woke up to someone's Mountain Dew can in my driveway.

Little bastards.

Drifting

This has been a strange, unpleasant sort of week so far. 

We lost a good man last Friday.  I have never met a couple who had so much love for each other.  She changed her life and lovingly gave everything she had (and more) to make his short life better.  And it wasn't because she felt she had to.  It was love in its best, rarest form. 

In my own selfish little world...it's not even worth mentioning.  I hope someday, someone loves me as much as Jules loves Jerome.  For now, I will stand in awe of her and her strength. 

Working up an idea. Need red paint. 

Bobby

*shrug*

Last night was the bff's birthday party part 1.  AB was there, and we successfully pretended that the other did not exist. 

I do not like this.  Having someone you love not even make eye contact is disheartening at best.  I will never understand how it got to this point. 

But, I give.  I am done making first contact.  I am done trying to salvage something when he so very obviously has no interest in even a friendship.  I can only do what I can do, and right now, that is stop caring.  Goes against my nature, but...moving on.

Last night was fantastico.  Even if they didn't have my song.  This week has been alternately boring and crappy so last night was much needed.  Today...back to real life and cleaning up my messes.

Haaaarumph

Absolutely no spare moments this week.  While I have even more on my mind than usual, I have fewer opportunities to spew.  Formulating a plan.  Wishing I had more time to read children's books.  I miss Ezra Jack Keats, Mrs. Piggle Wiggle, Clotilda, Bunnicula, Amelia Bedelia, Shel Silverstein, and the other million kids books I shared with kids every day for 9 years.  Basically all I miss about teaching preschool.

Life feels so uncertain right now. 

The Island of Misfit Toys

My office consists of 8 people, 2 in my department, 2 in roll-off, 3 in commercial and one driver who broke his arm on the job and is filling in as a dispatcher until he's all healed.  He is definitely a different breed of person.  He's the typical trashman.  Older, half his teeth, large, kinda stinky.  Sense of humor and conversational skills leave something to be desired.

The kid that works in the office with him is probably the nicest, most patient person alive.  He always laughs at the stupid jokes, starts conversations and makes him feel included in our silly office jokes.  But then he walks to my office and talks about how he can't stand him.

It makes me wonder.  I am not like the other people in my office.  I'm older, I'm not nearly hip enough, I make stupid jokes.  So, is this really how they feel about me when in another office? 

I may work on this more.  I only get to write whilst at work and that doesn't leave me much time.

Manic! Panic!

Everything is going so well.  Swimmingly, one might say. 

Other than the sitting here, trying to keep myself from freaking out at my desk.

Why, you ask?  Good question.  I most likely need sleep.  I definitely need to run laps or get a hamster wheel.  I need to get these thoughts out of my head.  I need to get through tomorrow without losing my cool.  Because no matter how bad ass I portray myself to be, I am freaking the fuck out.  My heart is screaming.


S'okay.


Blargh.

A Skirt and Heels Do Not a Lady Make

Day One of "Operation: Dress Like a Girl"

This Guy's Gonna Make Me a Mint

Sprinkles the Zombie Gnome

True Life Fairy Tale

So Zeke will STFU.  :)  (copied from my FB)



Once upon a time there was a beeeeeuutiful girl.  She was also a messy girl.  Growing up, she cleaned her bedroom by stuffing all of her things in her closet until her mother had inspected the room.  As an adult, she didn't even bother because there was no one to check.

One Friday night, she decided to have friends over.  They laughed and sang and drank and were very merry.

Three weeks later, she decided to clean up the mess.

The End

Working

My new goal for meself is to say exactly what I want to say when I want to say it, regardless of the consequences.  I think too much, and I definitely worry that the people I love will go away if I say something they don't like.  Crazy, right?  Right. 

So far, it has not gone as well as I had hoped.  I tried it with the first person to tell me, months ago, that I NEED to say what's on my mind.  And of course, this person did not really mean it and went away when I tried before.  So, I really had nothing to lose in this relationship.  It...kinda felt good.  I may have been a wee tad beyotchy but I didn't say anything mean or untrue.  Just stated something in a way that I would not normally. 

We'll see how it goes.  It's a process.  Hopefully people mean it when they say they want me to be honest and say how I feel.  If not, I guess I'll end up a lonely gal. 

Tomooooorrow, tomoooooroooow

I am sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo ready to get out of town this weekend.  Oklahoma promises sunshine, Suzy Q, karaoke, and freedom from thought.  BFF and I are going to sing together!  As long as I don't puss out.  And we get some practice time in the car.

This day makes me ridiculously excited for spring and summer.  February is more than half over.  Soon, I can plant bushes and flowers and hostas.  I can take the wonky cabinet outside to paint.  I can take Luna out for walks and perhaps shed some of this fabulous ass.  And of course ladder golf, porch time, sprinklers, sweat, sing-a-longs, YURT, craft nights outside, campfires, concerts, and all of the amazing things we do when the weather is amenable.   

I'm ready to think about something other than this thing I think about all the time.  I wish it was as easy as making up my mind.  I know for some people that's how it goes.  I sincerely wish I was one of those people.  Until that happens, I will look forward to the rest of this gorgeous year, whatever it may hold.                                                         

Meh

I've never really cared one way or the other about Valentine's Day.  But, I've never had to spend one alone, either.  Even without "taken" relationship status, I've been lucky enough to get to share it with friends.  Maybe I'd be more cynical if it had ever been an issue. 

Completely unrelated: More bad poetry.  This one recent.  God save my vomit reflex.

Prints

I need these concrete things
To make you real to me
Your smile can only last so long
In my memory

I'm training myself to forget
Letting go day by day
But I just want to look at you
And wish it was some other way

Sunday Self-Reflection

Although I have been filling my time quite nicely, I have found myself with about a million hours to just sit and think.  I was told for roughly six months that "it's not all about me" and now, it gets to be.  I have discovered a LOT about myself, for better and worse.

In the 12th grade, the boy I was dating hated one of my very close friends.  He said terrible, catty things and I did not stand up for her.  And when she inevitably found out, I did not stand up for him.  I just sat there and let the friendship die.

Over and over this pattern has repeated itself.  As I become closer to people, I become terrified that they will leave.  If I express an opinion they will realize that I am awful and they can do better.  Casual acquaintances?  No biggie.  Them leaving would have little impact on my life.  As soon as I begin to depend on someone, I shut down.  Become almost paralyzed.  I sit back and let them shine; let them be the important one.  I start to assume that if I get upset, or angry or even give a dissenting opinion, they will leave.  It's not a conscious decision.  I work against it all the time, but it seems to get worse over time.  The more people that leave, the more it reinforces this strange little cycle happening in my subconscious.  But all I'm doing by not speaking up is preventing a deeper bond from forming.  Making ties that would make it worth their staying.

Now we are where we are.  I am almost 32 years old and no closer to being the person I want to be than when I was 17.  I recognize these things about myself that I would like to change, but I have NO idea how to do it.  Take a public speaking class?  Become the next Emily Dickinson and never leave my bedroom?  Keep upping my meds until I just don't care?  Turn to black tar heroin so it's all irrelevant?

I've had all of these revelations over the last month.  I understand all of these things that have been lurking for years, sabotaging every relationship in my life, romantic or otherwise.  I've always looked very hard at what went wrong, and I seemed to convince myself there was a tragic flaw in the other person.  When all along, it was me.  The tragic flaw is...me.

So this is all well and good.  Good for me for realizing I am imperfect.  I now know what I need to change, but really, I've known it all along.  Admitting and owning it does nothing to alter it.  I've been thinking about therapy to try and come up with a plan.  Unfortunately, that's just not in the budget right now.  I'm exploring my "creative" side, which is super fun, but it does not help me become a better communicator.  Meh.  I think I'll stick with my self-indulgent writing and perhaps putting it out into the atmosphere will eventually bring clarity.  Until that happens, I bring you...bad poetry.

I just went through my high school poetry notebook.  I go through phases with how I feel about what I wrote (and currently write.)  Right now, this is the only one that seems worth sharing.

Try Harder
11-11-94

What to do
What to do
What the hell
To fucking do
Sit and wait
Sit and wait
Left by love
Engulfed by hate
Keeping down the
Rage and fear
Trying hard to
Sheath the spear
To look and see
The pain you feel
To know that my pain,
Too, is real,
Does not make it any less
It makes me hide
From your caress
Little does the
Young boy know
When we die
Where we shall go
Away from here
Away from here
Trying hard to
Disappear

Marvin

28 Days Later

Things I know about me: 

I can be VERY hard to talk to when I'm upset.  My natural reaction is to shut down.  This is not because I don't want to talk, or I want to be a dickbag.  I don't really know why I do it.  It's not a choice I make, just a gut reaction to past experiences.  I struggle with it every day, and I work on overcoming it every day.  And I consider myself lucky that the people who have to deal with it have stuck by me as long as they have.  

I am an optimistic pessimist.  Want the best, but count on the worst.  There is always a light at the end of the tunnel, but it's a long way off, and very, very dim.

I find it very hard to smile right now.

This doesn't make much sense, and as my first "blog" it's pretty craptastic.  Today is 28 days.  And I'm waiting for the "fake it til you make it" to actually start working.  So far, I just feel like a big fat fake.  

My dream last night was rough.  AB came to help my mother move and couldn't understand why I didn't want him there.  Even though he wouldn't talk to me.  So I tried to avoid him as he ate cake with my mom, but he started following me.  Still not talking.  His hair was really short and he didn't smile.  I miss the smile.