Wednesday, December 30, 2009
My name is Paula and I am an emotional hoarder. Shocking huh? Well go ahead, bring on the judgement. I hoard bad feelings, bad mojo, hurt, clothes from a period of my life that is no more, I hoard things with no purpose, I hoard letters, emails, so on and so forth. I hoard it. I hang on to this emotional baggage that poses real threat in order for me not to move on. Shitty Paula. Real shitty. Stop it. I did get rid of some things over the weekend that serve me no longer. Get real. You know what I'm talking about. Mr. Holding on to this thing from high school cause it made me feel manly and shit. Er, or whatever your little dirty secret is. I got rid of phone numbers that could get in the way of my future. Stumbling blocks. I just don't need them.
A.K.A. : I might need this crew neck white long sleeved t-shirt. I might, cause they may not make another one. Thank you Sue for listening to that trite realization. Improvement is on the way. Not like a knight in shining armour kind of way but a hold fast, help is on the way kind of thing. Here I am in my hope like state of mind and constantly reminding myself not to let that part of myself go.
These journeys we all seem to be on are confusing horrible nightmares or maybe it's what we make of it. Always having the power to wake up form the nightmare, that seems to be the tricky, intoxicating part of life. Why holding on to what could have been, or what it is but it could be better. Nope. Nope. Nope.
This is a icy patch. I find myself being only relateable to one person in this world at a time. This is a problem. This is a self created handicap. My bad G. I mean, just because you get out of jail it does continue to influence you. Which it should. Live and learn. Letting go though is quite a bit tougher.
My adult life has been quite a bit different than my life as a child. Things were happening to me then that I could not be accountable for. Ever. When I turned into an adult, that's when everything changed. I have been in circumstances I could have, and did not get out of. Not talking about divorce trauma, I'm talking about earlier in adult life bullshit. Like I didn't have to stay with Ed for 7 years when in fact I could have just let go. Was that empty feeling a good thing that I wanted to hold on to? No. Ed didn't do me any justice, and I didn't do any justice by him by holding on. He wasn't willing, so why was I such an eager beaver? Who really knows?
30 is a treasure for me. Most women I know see 30 as a death sentence and it makes me wanna vomit in their diaper bags. 30 has taught me a great bit. To love myself. To realize that what others paint of their lives, they can believe the facade they live in, or face facts. Like that they have made choices to be in the places that they are presently in now.
Here's post divorce shit.
Do you know how much I LOVE living in the same place I lived with my ex-husband? That I sleep in the room that he told me he was leaving me in?
Am I dead? No.
Would it be easy to go live with B and pack my dogs up and throw the pie save on the accord and set up shop in Knoxville? Yeah, it would be easy. B would like that. But I don't want that. I really don't need to be saved from myself. I need my own dryer to sit on and paint my toenails. This is why it wouldn't be a good solution for me, and this is also where I point out I am making good, conscience decisions about my life. Taking steps of maturity that I see by example via facebook, ex-book, myselfish sites that make me vomity in my mouth.
Psst. Pass it on.
The only being that can save me is my Lord and Sovereign Savior, Jesus Christ.
The next time others want me to have pity on the choices and graves they have been digging for themselves, I pray for self-restraint. To not judge or to be bitter toward them.
Just because the past has been so bad it doesn't ever mean it will determine your future.
The proof is in the pudding, and you should go ahead and take a bite.
It's true I miss someone. It's true I am a bit melancholy today. I am fortunate to have realationships with people who are supportive, no matter how hair brained a scheme I tend to pull. These folks are my searchlight when I am out in the bay, lost at sea. Close to home but utterly too far away.
I am very sleepy today. I honestly don't know how I feel today. This is going to have to be okay. I cant continue to hesitate to white wash things. I miss Terry. Badly. I think about the adventures we would go on. I missed his phone call Monday. I didn't call back. Why so insecure? I feel as if I don't fit in his life any more. It feels rotten. Mine and Terry's friendship was exactly what I needed when we reconnected. It is difficult to see it change. I am sure he feels the same way also, but not so dramatically as I see it. Oh no, not this performer. With that said, I feel like a house with open windows all exposed and shiz. Coming clean ain't so easy.
Motivation? Up and out. I woke up a little earlier to somehow to promote a feeling of optimism. You know the drill. To get a leg up. To feel human. To BE effective. It's all been a big joke though, or so it seems. I would rather be curled up somewhere in a cocoon and fighting it all out in my head. Very vivid dreams last night, but I cant remember a one of them. How 'bout that paradox?
It's confession time around here, so get ready. I want to be doing a lot more. I need to catch that fever I had. That wild unbearable fever that fueled me to a point I was dangerous. I have outlet. I see this. I also am craving validation. Is that so wrong? I expect more out of myself than what I am producing. My band wagon started out ferociously and now it dwindles as if I am using wet matches to light a fire. Life altering? More like lifeless.
Am I still moving as fast as I used to? Is everyone else moving so slow I seem like a blur? It sure feels the other way around. Walk a mile in someone else's moccasin's. Fight a battle of David and Goliath proportions.
My heart is heavy for B today. He understands stagnant waters. Hopefully I support him as much as he needs. I believe he would speak up. We drove up to his family farm yesterday. Even though it was freezing, even though it was windy, we walked a few minutes. Stood on the ridge of possibilities. Figuratively and physically. His family farm connects to my great aunt and great uncle's farm. Which is clever. God knows what to do. B and I stand a chance to inherit a great future. A progressive future. I am sure B and I will be ready when God thinks we need to turn that wheel. Provision is promised and I look forward to it.
Optimism is a good looking girl and I cant help but stare at her.
I am eating my morning cereal while I write this. My cereal is just about as animated as porridge, but it's full of protein and fiber. 2 things a person needs to feel full and encourage the mind to work together with the body beautifully. I always eat breakfast because if I don't I find myself mindless. Ready to eat cardboard. Eating hand fulls of chocolate. When I know better. My favorite part of not eating breakfast is the crashing. The headaches. The irritableness (not really a word) of it all. The foul mood which it promotes. I will continue to try harder and not eat all the leftover cookies and junk from the holidays. I should not ever feel that compelled. Nor that hungry and desperate for satisfaction out of eating things I truly have no desire to consume. Take off them judgement pants. It's unattractive.
So while everyday boredom eats away at my soul, I ask, how does Heidi Klum pull this shiz off? Oh yeah, she has a monumental support system at her demand. But wait P, so do you. My sickness is that I make a choice not to believe how reliable my support system is. I allow total destruction from within. The offender is inside. This is me trying to attempt to be reasonable and ask it to leave. In a polite voice also. I can try, right?
Instead of feeling numb and motionless. It's all too "Lawnmower Man" for me. Do you remember that movie? It had a bit of impact on me. All Sci-fi does that shiz to me anyway. Why is it so troubling to have eye watering smiles? It's worth it to be un-orthodox, full of life, vigor. I bet downright infused. Tasty even.
Instead of putting an ill fitted band-aid on this real wound, I pray for passion and commitment. I pray to be awakened in a way that will help these burdens feel somewhat manageable. Am I not ready? Who knows? I'm ready to be a functioning person of society. I willing party. Not the unwaning child who just doesn't wanna.
If you read this today, please comment. If only just a hello. I really don't need anything heartfelt, but please let me know you are there. Somewhere.
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Monday, December 28, 2009
I had stopped by my parent's yesterday and had eaten 3 peanut butter cups and this oreo candy ball thing in the 5 minutes that I was there. Mama asked me to stay for a while, but I couldn't. Not with those peanut butter cups staring at me. I kept thinking to myself, do I eat this? Turns out the answer was yes every time. I can't continually do this. I just can't. I feel so guilty and so bad, and I become so defeated that I can't allow it. Pleasure is fleeting....... even in the world of food.
We all need fuel. I need constant fuel. I eat around 6 small meals a day. Mostly things quick and convenient. I drink my allotment of a million gallons of water a day. I do. This equals consistent bathroom trips, but it also battles that water weight that plagues me.
Blah. New year. New you. This could be true and not only in fairy tales. I am looking forward to a little bit of rejuvenation. Not sleep. Because apparently sleep is for the weak. I have many examples and many women to look up to for this comparison. Looking for mind renewal and better balance. Trying to find my new glitch and leaving all this unnecessary bullshit behind.
So Jme is home and of course there has been plans of world domination and things of that nature. Is this positive? Yes. As far as I'm concerned. We had a great conversation that I would like to share. We discussed jealousy. Which everyone experiences. Which is common. It all started with talking about breast feeding. Really? Between two women who are not pregnant, nor becoming pregnant in the near future. Jme told me about being persecuted about not wanting to breast feed. She was also in the middle of several married/newlywed/new parents/ladies who have older children/women who like to pick fights for no reason/ladies who lost their fucking minds because their worlds have become so small. Call me judgemental, but this is my best friend who has experienced many struggles and like everyone else every now and then feels persecuted and outed because she's not in the world procreating and bitching about it. I took her by the hand and said Jme, I understand. One individual (Oh, to be a fly on the wall for this) had the gall to call her a bad mother. Jme looked at her and told her she wasn't a mother yet. ( my example of some one's SMALL world and narrow minded perspective.) I said, puh-leese, Woo. The next time you are with this firing squad, maybe you could brag about being able to leave your house without asking your husband to "baby-sit" y'all's child or children that you all had together.
Put that on your tit and suck it. BEEEATCHES.
Back to the subject at hand. She asked me if I thought we were jealous because we didn't have that going on in our lives just yet. I said maybe. I don't think that's all of it, I just feel like everyone else may have a great life in which they constantly bitch about. I told her that these folks have made their choices, and bringing their own judgements, (or lack of) about what you want out of your life doesn't mean it has to remotely stand up to what they have made the choice to do. Further more, I'm sure most of your married/pregnant Nazi's you know have made horrible choices for themselves and want to pass judgement on you for no reason, is their issue, not yours.
Jealous? Not jealous of them, but the idea of what could happen for us in the future. (So don't ruin it for us friends! We have the power to make different decisions!!!)
So holla @ me if this makes you mad, but breast feeding isn't on the top of mine and Jme's to do list. She's an inspiring, teaching mad house of a Pastor. Jme's goals are to keep on truckin', and focus on Christ. Which is what I should be doing.
Jme made a great point, in the bible it teaches us to solely rely on God. Focus on His path. The bible actually teaches us to put everyone else, including our children and spouse's last and to put Him first. In all actuality the bible teaches us to want to be single, and that having spouse's and children are choices.
Check that word again. Choice.
Radical? No. Just Southern Baptist and opinionated.
Of course I told B about this conversation and he asked if I had a pen and paper. I grabbed my journal out of my purse and said "Have at it." He said, "Talk slow, I want to get this down." I laughed and hugged that boy and told him I loved him for wanting to know. Things change. People change. B is pretty solid though. Solid in his thinking. I see him constantly trying to be good to me, my pets, (even the step brothers) to my family, B is consistent. This is one of the traits in him that I admire. B always follows through. Even when it's tough. Not to toot his horn so loudly, but TOOT!!!!! B is a right choice for me, and my life. When feeling hard to please and out of control, he describes me as being particular and knowing what I want. BUT totally understanding that what I want MAY change at any given second. He seems to eat it up like a fat kid eating cake....... (Toot again)
This is me thankful and not jealous. (Take a picture, it'll last longer.)
Saturday, December 26, 2009
The beginning of this blog post is such a cheat. I mean, I should update you, I take stock in what other's opinions are. This is human, and you're human, right? If you aren't, I do not hold this against you. (RObot.) I think that I live in an imaginary world I have created. Most of the time I see the words I type but it's usually edited down so much because I'm afraid of the judgement. Too watered down to a point the effort feels futile. Or posting a blog that's truly half-assed. Even when most of the time if someone comments on the fact I write in a dark way, it hurts me. I suppose I just don't see myself as dark. I see myself as a realist. I see myself craving more support rather than what I might be doing wrong, and especially when it's someone else's opinion. I want to cut it out. (It could also stem from living with an verbally abusive ex-spouse, and suffering consequences from an ex-spouse who didn't want me to outshine them. ) (This kind of living, is conducive to a divorce.)
SO SUPPORT EACH OTHER FOR GOODNESS SAKE.
I already can hear criticism. When this is my creative outlet. My output. Creatively, this is difficult. Difficult? Yes, difficult because it's me. Because it's mine. This is my footprint. I wander. Er, I wonder. There's too much stuck in my head, but not enough time to let it out.
I suppose this is why I don't have writer's block. Ever.
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Except for the trust issues I have. Except for passing by my ex-husband last night in the mall.
He wasn't far away.
The mall was packed full.
He walked RIGHT BY ME.
We made eye contact.
It wasn't like he was on the other side.
He walked RIGHT by me.
I didn't look back.
This has followed with terrible nightmares last night, raging insecurities, I'm afraid I'm just pushing B away. I don't want to be left again.
Did I mention he walked right by me?
The last time I saw him was in '07. At a bank. With Angie and Abs.
It was horror.
B. Gah. B. He was perfect. He looked more hurt than me.
So here we are. B and I. Dealing with life as it comes AFTER us. Good thing is, is that he's supportive, and vice versa. So it STILL turns out my life is different than yours. Again, you should probably be jealous. My old self would be.
I'm also in love with Andy Griffith. So every time I speak to anyone I am just going to imagine I am speaking to him. That may work. This is my fix. My coping mechanism.
Wish me luck!!!! : )
Monday, December 21, 2009
Welcome to my epiphany.
How organized can a tornado be? Turns out, when I make lists and stick to them, I turn into a productive person. Who knew? Truth be told this has been my secret for eons now. I'm perfectly capable of doing things the right way. It's just that my gumption had ran off in the sunset with a handsome stranger. Ya know what? Gumption just came back with it's tail between it's legs. Told you so. These are my struggles, and why not be honest about them? Half the time I feel like I need to be secretive. As if I'm the only person on the planet who feels lacking, intimidated, misunderstood from time to time. We all feel this way. What else has been missing? Confidence. which is something I usually lack. I mean, the wind will blow if it wants to, right? This time of year brings out the best and the worst in people. I just need a little control. I can have this. Control. Yes, I will have it. I will control my eating, my self-deprecating thoughts, I will stop comparing myself to unattainable ideas. Maybe you believe I am not positive, but I am. I am positive that I will do better. To air out exactly what I need to air out. Believe it or not.
No longer frustrated with your point of view, I will have to ignore your opinion. Now, now. I may not be great at this, but there are people in my life who want to control me. Even my thoughts. That's unfair. Stop pointing at me, or her, or him. Sometimes, we have to look at ourselves to find the problem. Or maybe even the solution.
I thought for the longest time life is unfair. It is and all, but it can get better. I have no money, but I pay every thing on time. I made a commitment to my bills. No matter what. I believe God is going to continue to provide for me. I may pray. I may get real specific, but I will receive every thing I need. And, just in time.
You know the struggle. What to pay. What not to pay. Then I heard my favorite money go to guy, Dave Ramsey tell me exactly what most of America needs to hear right now. Pay the electric. Pay the gas bill. EAT. Mortgage. Your "debt" is less important. Dave didn't say this, but trust God. As much as you can.
Take this from a person who has lost everything. Given away things she needed. Kept only the necessary things to get by on, then rebuilt. I'm not exactly where I want to be. BUT WHO IS???
It's coming. I just need enough to get by. God puts the grace in my heart to be humble enough to understand this.
I want more.
It's not my time to have more.
That's my story. Now go celebrate Festivus!!!!! (With the rest of us.)
Sunday, December 20, 2009
He likes my bewildered states. I like that he always tries his best. At every thing.
Conversations with Sue have helped me conclude that I (everyone alive) becomes seasonally depressed. Needing sunlight. Needing to be out of the house, cage, work, prison..... so on and so forth. To break this spell of feeling like hell is, um, disappointing. I love all things outdoors. BUT I hate the cold. To be outside, I must endure the cold. I ask myself, which will win? I hope to start dressing a little smarter and not fearing what someone else may think of me. Get all devil may care on their ass. Sounds fun!!!
I am not eating sweets. I know we hear this all the time from me, but I have to out my foot down. You see, I have a form of body delusion. This is my diagnosis. It's dangerous to me. I beat myself up over eating. I have gained a little weight. Which shouldn't make me hate myself as much as I do.
But I do.
I can eat. But I need to eat well.
And work out. I shouldn't be lazy. I promise to try harder.
So the next time you have doubt, read this. I am holding my body captive as we speak.
Saturday, December 19, 2009
I hate snow. I "like" it only on seldom occasions. Oh, did I mention how much I am uncomfortable with Christmas? I love Jesus. I love that he was born. I love the story of Christ's birth. That's the extent of my love for Christmas. I have such distaste for Christmas decorations. That's kinda one of my issues with Christmas. I think they are pointless. The hustle and bustle? BULLSHIT!!!!!!!!!! More money to piss down the pot. I like understated bullshit. Hell, you're reading the blog of the girl that only has a poinsettia out, and will be the only whisper of Christmas decorations.
Reason number 2 for not really DIGGING Christmas? No one REALLY cares. All year round we know it's coming, but somehow my family ends up acting confused and can't remember the date. HUH? My mother gets so stressed out FOR NO REASON. She may say dinner is at 5:30. Well, it's going to be later than that. Maybe an hour later. Then she gets mad that dinner isn't ready at 5:30. Well guess what? You should have started earlier! Then she wants to ask WHY ISN'T ANYONE HELPING??!!!??? Well lady, you threatened our lives with a wooden spoon. That's why. You crazy ass. Then, she gets all cry-ey. Then, I get cry-ey. Then, one of us EXPLODES. Yes. Yes. Yes. I mean, I can eat P,B, & J for Christmas dinner. Cause its' NOT ABOUT THE FOOD!!!!!! RIGHT MAMA???
I mean, don't fuck with me. Let's get this shit right.
Take Thanksgiving for example. Mama, Rachel, and I had 3 things each to prepare. FOR DINNER. The 2 of them had ALL DAY to GET SHIT READY. Of course it turned into a monumental meltdown. Remember how I worked like a streetwalker all Thanksgiving week? I had every bit of my shit ready. PLUS IT WAS HOMEMADE!!!!! Fuck!!!!
I don't expect miracles. BUT YOU CANT GET MAD ABOUT THE SHIT YOU HAVE CONTROL OVER!!!!!!!!! Them's the rules!!!! Right??? Right????
Geez. I'm ready for a shot.
It's only 8:27 AM.
B on the other hand is in love with all this snow bullshit. He got up at 3:45 this morning to go ski. I'm tickled he was able to go since he loves this shit and all, but he is sympathetic with my snow predicament. which lands me even more bat shit crazy in love with him. He might be my Jay-z and I might be his Beyonce. Jealous much?
All right. Cut. Story time now.
Courage of conviction to come. One day, someone might write about me. Like the careful way I want to write about you. To compliment. To emulate. I'm a crow.
The awful truth is, I'm terrified of my emotions. Terrified of the future and absolutely horrified at the possible outcome. What if I I'm a failure? What if no one loves it? What if no one finds it? The awful truth is, I don't have it. I have to use other people's stuff to kind of fit in. I realize I'm being kind of secretive here, but I think it might make you go away. And I don't want that. The truth is, I am uncomfortable with you not seeing it. See, the sock turned away. I'm still unsure why. The sock was so cryptic though. I started to think about the witch in the river. How angry the river rat was. Still unforgiven to this day. When the sock found out I had made the magic from the sacred area, the sock scrammed. Which made me ashamed of not having. Shame on you sock. Let's not turn this into Good Will Hunting.
I pulled my knee socks high. At that point I sat on a iceberg. Hoping to see the barn owl. Then, out of nowhere, there the wise being landed. The barn owl granted security. In an unforeseen storm. It doesn't matter. The iceberg DID melt. I had to hit land at some point.
So if I don't create, it can't be seen. Obtained honestly or not.
I REALLY sympathize with Rudolph. The red nosed reindeer? Sing the song. It might make some sense. I just hope my ending is the same.
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Well Dave, this is a pickle. I shouldn't. I know. But I have a sick need to. You know the love I have for switching roles. One day, I might be a sadist, the next, a masochist. It's beautiful harmony. Yes Dave, I will try.
B said something similar last night. Uh, I feel it's similar. Hell, it's probably a different vocabulary word all together. Shoot.
He said that We have the advantage. After I woke up from my heady trip in Wonderland, I asked him to explain. This is a person who has been laid off and probably felt purposeless from time to time. Which is a bummer. Which is tough. Which is alright. (his words) Again, after he nursed my head wound from passing out and hitting the edge of the table I was brought to I asked for more clarity. He told me that We have an advantage because we have had the chance to learn from our mistakes.
B and I went to Sevierville yesterday to The Christmas Place. The Christmas Place looks like Santa Claus vomited everywhere. All 365 days of the year. Not a great place for me. B lured me in with a cup of coffee and promises of not staying long. Which we didn't. I was relieved. I almost had a panic attack. It's a BIG place. It's also just not my cup of tea.
Learning from mistakes? We have had the pleasure to screw up by our own hands and by others. We see clearly now that the rain is gone. B is full of insight, and knows quite a bit about this little girl.
At first, (ok, still....) a wild filly and not listening to anything but my own way.....YES. I am that flawed. He's flyin' like a bat out of hell down 66 and laughs. I looked over and said "What's so funny?" He said, "You've come so far." I wear my most bewildered face and say "What!!!!????"
B continues to say that I don't overreact the way I used to. Then said, that he was proud of me. Of course, I could've said thank you and moved on, but did I ? No. No. I went a 30 minute spill about this and that trying to sell myself to someone who is dying to buy into any of the silly shit I say anyway.
B also reminds me: Not to fuck it up. (In a nice way.) (Remember, lessons learned?)
Wasted energy to say the least. What do you do? I mean, I'm just a silly farm girl LIVIN' to be the in the color portion of The Wizard of Oz. Or at least SEE myself on the other side.
Have I told you lately? No. I don't believe I have. I love you. Also, I could've stayed in bed this morning. I could've stayed all pressed against the ghost dog and cuddled with the lone wolf, A.K.A. The Notorious all day long. Not happening. Gotta make the doughnuts.
I really want to be a forest ranger. Yeah, a forest ranger. I blame Sue. Sorry. All day long I have had these fantasies of trekking through woodlands. Holding maimed wildlife. Setting hawks free in the middle of day. Bull shit of that nature. I love bullshit like that. There are probably qualifications that I would need to meet like: setting a broken limb with snake skin and mayonnaise, using fire signals, allowing myself to be in the cold for extended periods of time, learning what the spiders are writing in their webs to warn others about the bad weather. It all sounds like fun. Let's look into this............in knee socks.
That is what I wore yesterday, so dear Angie your birthday knee socks have been out to play and without a sensible guardian. Tragic.
I tore some bread and put them in a basket. I took piece after piece and dropped them. I was grinning when I realized you ate them. : )
Monday, December 14, 2009
So here I am. trying to be a little more gracious with my thoughts. Er, and actions. Many things whirling. I need an adventure. This is how it is for me. I need excitement to be hurled at me like crazy knifes at the carnival. THAT would be fun. All decked out in something fabulous with fish net stockings on and not feeling like a sausage. I cannot be left alone with my thoughts. I need an entourage. I need to be needed. I need to be the smoke in the tress. I need the thing that creates the smoke in the trees. I need quite a bit.
My biggest compliment? That someone else finds me interesting. You heard it. Someone else besides me thinks I'm interesting!!!! Score one for the barren, unmarried lady!!!! Yeah, I'm also a martyr. Suck it.
At times I feel like we forget about being human. Having faults. Having these cracks in our shells. Forgetting that this may be the unparalleled beauty we all have and should continue to capture. Flesh and blood. Bones. Capillaries. Veins. Organs.
Not robots or computers. A math problem. The only thing we leave out in day to day is forgetting that not everyone thinks the way they do. Or have what they have. Some are poor, but rich in heart. Some are smooth, but rough around the edges. Sometime I forget to tell people I love them. That's so my damage. The formula to figure it out? Is there. I broach the subject to remind myself NOT to forget. Not to forget how I feel. although fleeting, I still feel lonely.
I have a picture in my mind's eye. On a mountaintop. Waiting.
If I had Pandora's box and had an element of control..... What would happen?
Let's be honest. No matter how ugly it is. I never thought my imagination would run so wild. It turns out, I'm very bright.
I had that notion of running out of ground.
Gradual. Deliberate. Thorough. Subtle opportunities. Available. Leisurely foreplay. A purpose metaphor. Embrace the spirit. The tortoise, not the hare. A 1,000 page novel, not a magazine.
Flooded with Briny emotion on a meandering binge.
Embedded in a labyrinth. Of my own creation. Who are on the verge on being too clever for their own good. As cagey a listener. Searching for hidden vulnerability. In other words.... not yourself.
The opposite of what you think you are.
We all want to be filled with truth. Some of the elastic in my knee socks are shot. That's okay. I bought new ones. BUT it's so tough to let go of the old ones. I have taken care of them and they have tried their best to take care of me. We did share precious moments. I hung them on the clothes line and just like that Ladybird had taken them to the Land of Make believe she has somewhere in the hills of Piedmont.
This is dangerous genius. I want to be careful but live with total freedom and leave doubt in the dust. Be completely enveloped in DYNAMIC PARTNERSHIP.
I love you B. I have no clue if you read this. If you do, great. Take care in understanding my words though. Nothing I say should plant anything negative. You love me with a pure heart and I do the same. Who else grins when I act so fragile! My life falls apart and you think it's the cutest thing when I don't get my way! You are a wonderful triathlete when it comes to the art of making me feel perfect. My ocelot in a roomful of muskrats.
The sun came out today and not a moment too soon.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Delight yourself in the LORD and he will give you the desires of your heart. Commit your way to the LORD; trust in him and he will do this: He will make your righteousness shine like the dawn, the justice of your cause like the noonday sun. Psalm 37: 4-6 NIV
In the devotion Dr. Stanley discusses how we compare ourselves to others. This is a trap I have been sitting in. This is a trap that steals my joy. This is an affliction that hardens my heart. I felt so convicted reading this I had to share my emotion. I wholeheartedly agree that the consequences are devastating. These fears fill me with doubt. Fill me with fear. Cause me to shut down. I turn into a person who doesn't want to share. As if my cup will not be filled again.
Dr. Stanley continues with stating that confusion, anxiety, and bitterness can flood an envious heart. Just like mine!!! These emotions change me and it is impossible for me to see God's plan for me in view. I cant see the forest for the trees if you will.
What really got my heart was that Dr. Stanley explained it as it dishonors the Lord. I don't want that. At all. Dr. Stanley explained that it was like telling God that "I deserve more than you've provided, and therefore, I don't trust that You truly give me Your best."
I'm keeping this with me. As a reference guide. As a reminder.
Hopefully I can keep my focus.
Had an interesting conversation with Mama yesterday. She may have mentioned that I am too hard on people. Maybe ease off. Maybe try to understand how people are not perfect. These people she speaks of are men. I get it. Is it too much to ask for the man in my life to the things other bf's I have been involved with rejected to do? Instead have me figure it out on my own? To have these mentioned afore bf's let all responsibility fall on me? Is it too much to ask a man to help me do shit like change a tire? Or, help me set booby traps for meese? B is the only bf to have ever passed this test. Somehow, I opened my mouth about going to counseling and possibly bringing B along too. THIS is when she offered her motherly advice.
No! I say! I mean that in the nicest way to her. She tells me I have to accept flaws in other people. Well, no thank you lady. Flaws, maybe. Out and out ignoring me and my needs? No. Relying on my 69 year old Daddy to do things? No. Calling church family? Yes. Having your concerned bf WANTING to change said tire and TELLING you not to worry about it? Wonderful. She reminds me to be self reliant. I identify. I know how to be self reliant. I also am not a damsel in distress. But, I'm also human. I need constant help. I usually end up doing things on my own, which is fine.
BUT. I will not be doing things on my own in a realationship. I understand where Mama is coming from. She sees flaws in Daddy that she wishes were not there. Well. I get a second chance in selecting an appropriate partner for MY future. Not one who expects me to do things on my own. Offers to help. Constantly. Not out of guilt or "having to." B wants to. I have yet heard him say, I can't do that. I'm busy. I know our realationship is new. BUT. I also know he busted his ass on our farm all summer long. EVERY TUESDAY. ALWAYS SMILING. B says things like "Let me do that for you." "What do you need?"
A person I doubted. Heavily. I doubted my heart also. Heavily. B has proven his worth and continues to encourage me to embrace mine. Our journey has been short of sorts. In his mind though he has tried to court me for 11 months. Yeah. 11.
My lesson? Is that I will listen to Mama when she tells me things like that. I may not want to, but I will. B won't always tell me yes, but until then he tries like hell. I like that about him. Not giving up. So it puts a hunger in me not to give up also.
Most of you are shaking your head. Some of you are thinking I'm naive. One of you might be making fun of me behind my back. Saying things like wait until you have kids. The honeymoon doesn't last. It doesn't.......and don't I know it.
Please don't forget. I'm a divorced gal. I am a different animal. I am not busy settling either.
Shake your dick at that one.
I love you Angela Puckett White. Hope you read this with a smile.....and let me sit on that heating pad for a while!
Monday, December 7, 2009
B is skiing today. Congratulations. As long as I do not have to look and roll around in ANY snow, I am perfectly happy. Champ and I woke up in matching knee socks and um, matching attitudes. Tiger FREAKED OUT about the doughnut wheel on my car then decidedly peed on it. He said, LOOK BITCHES. THIS IS MY TIRE. FUCK YOU. Okay. Okay. Geez. Just let me make you a martini. Sit down. NO. No. NO. THESE ARE MY SLIPPERS. You can have the tire. Hell, take all four of them. BUT don't bitch when I can't get to work and you have nothing to eat.
I'm lead dog. I have proven this today.
Lady bird. Who resembles a Popsicle...... would like to stay out of the trash cans, BUT with all the temptation, she CAN'T help herself. I say, "Go ahead Punk." "Make my day." Yeah, horse shit just like that. She's busy though. Smiling.
Somehow I am going to get things done at my house today. With B gone and unable to tempt me from dropping everything I need to focus on. I have no excuse. I have to work here. Just call me Cinderella. Moving said Poinsettia......from down low to up high. I am NOT a person who decorates for Christmas. Mama gave me a pretty flower and I CAN'T turn it down. Champ will want to eat it. Not that it tastes good, just for shizzies and giggles......
Er, many things. Panic attacks in Target yesterday to discussing my lady time. Did I mention I cried 3 times? This is why B deserves some kind of medal. BUT LISTEN. He brings it all on himself. He wants to know. He asks extensive questions that I have no answer for. I made up 89% of my answers yesterday. He believed it. Whew. If in doubt, make it sound creative.
I rrrrrrrrreally want to hike Allum Cave. Er, it's gonna be cold and rainy tomorrow so this isn't possible. Plus........................zzzzzzz. B, again, went skiing. So the last thing he would want to do is go hiking. I mean, I really, really, want to hike Allum Cave. It's on my to-do list.
Wellllllllllllllllll, I'm leaving. On a jet plane. Not really. Just gonna simmer in the bath tub and fight the urge to prank call everybody.
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Any hooter. Tiger and his buyout bride. What a whore she is turning out to be. I would rather go out in a ball in fucking flames than to be BOUGHT OUT. He wins. The end.
How worthless you have to be to accept your partner cheating. Just so he can continue to "save face." Whore. Both of 'em.
Anyway. Think twice about picking other obsessions over your family and spouse. Save face. Pick them over a game. Pick them over your buddy. This is life. Learn to deal with it.
It's always worth starting from scratch than cheapening your soul. Please keep your 5 million and wipe your ass with it.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
I thank God for his precious word.
The Lord your God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing. Zephaniah 3:17
GOD IS WITH ME!!!! Yay!
HE is mighty to save!!! Double yay!
HE takes DELIGHT IN ME!!!! That part made me cry....
HE WILL quiet you WITH HIS LOVE. He did this. For me. Today.
HE WILL REJOICE OVER YOU WITH SINGING. My God, Almighty, rejoices over even me. Little ole me. So thankful.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Ya know, get IT together.
Here's my whiny shit. I need to be adventuring. In forests, in the middle of the day, unaware of night time or panthers about to attack my pitiful flesh. I'm ransacked here people. I miss you. And you too. Thank God for changes. Makes me break into David Bowie. Ch, Ch, Ch, CHANGES!!!! Great song. Great Bowie. I effing love Bowie. He is the sugar in my tea. Gracious.
Great balls of fire. B and I need some changes. I think he could survive on the fact he doesn't know what I might do next. He digs that about me. I dig that about him in return. We as people need change. We crave change. We demand change. We habitually change things ALL the time. On our own. Then we may bitch about said changes. Or the change we wanted just didn't come about. I get it. I take notes about that shit. I adore you even more for these bites.
I toot alot about B.....I think this is a great thing. When you hear over and over about good things, we begin to believe them. These statements turn into our truths. I love them truths. I love to love him baby.
Dreams. Are everywhere. Champ and I have been sleeping toe to nose as usual and I think he had second thoughts about me over the weekend. He slept some on the couch. I climbed on the couch to cuddle like an infant and her favorite doll. It almost made him smile.
Enough bitching. Going SOMEWHERE today. Creating SOMETHING today. With knee socks on.
Sunday, November 29, 2009
it was a mouse.
Yes. A mouse.
I had a mouse in my hand.
Surprisingly, I set it down.
IT scurried under the fridge.
B and I will be setting up traps with peanut butter on them.
P.S. We will set them out while the boys are in their kennels. I mean, can you imagine one of them all hokey pokey, mouse traps on noses? Er, or on cowboy boots? rar.
Saturday, November 28, 2009
If I can survive a train wreck so can you. It's the crawling out from the wreckage and seeing that YOU may be the only survivor. Oh, and NEEDING coffee. There's got to be someplace you and I could go. The basement? No. It's smelly down there and you know how I FREAK out when I think something smells. I love my issues. The best part about those mother fuckers is that they're ALL MINE. So hands off. Get your own. So please. Don't. Embrace the tiny erratic flaws that make you.... YOU! I love 'em!
I realize it hasn't been that long, lovelies. I mean, I just need to be hangin' with my peeps. The Nason clan? Them folks.
I believe in you, so believe in me. Throw me a line. Make a comment. This is a welcoming place honey. A warm fire. You know the feeling you get when a Pink Floyd song comes on? The feeling I get is hanging out on the back porch on Branner Street, smokin' cigs, and drinkin' beer. Relaxed. You know all "Wish you were here" and shit? That's my love. FUCK!!! HOW AWESOME IS THAT SONG???????
Okay. Back to reality. Oh, or "Learning to Fly?"
Home again. Here it is. I looked over and found all my reservations about living. Being 30. CLAIMING responsibility. Emotion usually makes us all so weak. I think this is good though. When I feel weak, I cry. Or I get pissy. Then I take action. If writing it all out is action, then I action I take!!!!!
I love the man folk. I mean, I love ALL man folk. They get me all giggly and I find most of them attractive. Most of the time I like a man folk for a dorky thing only I would have the vision to hold on to. SO if you may have been one of these man folk I speak of, consider yourself WORTHY. You're welcome. This includes, possibly, maybe making out with you, um, well, anywhere at any given time in my life. Uh, if you have ever made me laugh and eat cheeseburgers like a rabid raccoon....... High five. Maybe you have had the pleasure of just looking at me. Okay. That last statement WAS a little assish.
Again. You're welcome.
I end up saying shit like, "I love me some of him!"
Uh, thank you.
That's right. I have manners. I TRY to mind them.
You know I really wanna party and all that bullshit. Just tie one one. Get slap happy nanners. Wake up with my shoes on my hands. All that jazzzzzzzzzz. That's right. Judge me.
Time out. I may need to rant for a moment. Y'all know I LOVE reading. I LOVE BLOGGING. (I also love children), BUT. ! !!!! Reading other's blogs, but how am I always finding blogs about CHILDREN? Huh? Forgive me, my life isn't about them. My life is about coffee, dogs, reading and writing. Oh, and also complaining. Sometimes, I just want to read about life other than children. I dont understand. Is it because I have no biological gaggle myself? Sometimes I'm just bored to tears. I cant help it. I WANT to help it. But I cant. All I want to do is read a great tutorial about pedicures. IS that SO wrong? Nah. I don't like other people touching my feet and shit. Just don't mix it in with discussing children. Please. I'm not like that character that smells children and it makes her sick..... What movie is that? It has witches in it. WITCHES OF EASTWICK! No, it's not that wonder of a movie, it's, it's, well, the one with Sarah Jessica Parker in it. I forget. So.... on that note..... Wanna talk about dogs?
So I told B we would grill today, ya know, cause it's purty outside and all.... he agreed. Once he was finished hanging Christmas lights for his folks. I need to start laundry, stare Champ in the eye for a while, and we will all walk the farm before dark. B told me he had seen a baby deer with the pair of deer I constantly see. I really want to find their nest. I REEEEEEally think it's in the mess of cedar trees. Gotta knack for that kind of bullshit. I told him we should take some pics today too..... I did find this neat hole in the field surrounded by neat patches of grass. I want to take some blankets up and hang out.
Oh. And wear my boots. Gotta wear my boots.
Friday, November 27, 2009
The creative juices are slow. Last night though I was in this Alice in Wonderland trippy mood. I felt woozy from not being able to hold my head up. I couldn't fall asleep. I couldn't sit up either. Of course I blamed it on my laziness of NOT shaving my legs. Listen, this is a very small effort and I should be able to sit my rear down in the shower and do so. AAAAARgh. I failed. Miserably. I wrote down a variety of ideas. Mostly on the ceiling. (Remember the affliction of being worn out?) Please forgive me, I'm zombish.
I couldn't bear to look at the computer screen. Look at me, so human and dignified. Blah. I'm flap jacky. CAPTAIN FLAP JACKY. So I may change my name. It's all happening right NOW. I read a sentence that I find myself in awe of. OVERUSE I LOVE YOU. If it annoys others, they need to talk on a hot line or speak with their therapist. I encourage this. Here I be. Half way home, half way to Dixie, and half way around the world. I'm a touch googleybird. I suspect you forgive me.
I essentially feel like throwing up from over eating, over exerting, over coffeeeeeeying. THAT's MY WORD. Don't make fun of it. I may marry that word. I might. Don't push me. I'm on the edge of unreasonable. I'm comfortable with this fact. Like I could do anything, conquer world hunger, or at least just get through my day. Look at me. I'm terrified. I'm imitating your favorite blanket right now too. All snuggly and shit. We could take a 15 minute nap on the couch with the sun busting through. You know, arm draped over eyes, socks on. TV low. Drool imminent.
We all know that has DISASTER written all over it.
I need to sell more lemonade and cookies. I need a little more funds. That's selfish, isn't it? I mean, I have enough money to pay my bills and even a jackpot of money to blow too. So what's there to moan about? Here's the deal Holifield. I want to buy a Pirate's ship. Yep. I need to sail away. Can't you hear it now? I'm also mad at skinny jeans. P.S. This is not an item you would catch me dead in. Dig? Dead. I hate you skinny jeans for false advertising. Forcing the undeserving and unsuspecting to make souls believe if you wear skinny jeans, it does NOT AUTOMATICALLY MAKE YOU SKINNY. DIG? It's kinda like the Easter Bunny. Even though you believe, he's still not real. Shabooey. I'm WORE out. I cant spell. I am suffering. Like a smelly cat.
Here's my shout out to Pete today. I will be meeting you on December 3rd. We will be having haircut time then. My hair looks like a bad wig. You can even see the bobby pins holding it in place! Horrible. Pete, this is not a time to plan your vacation, to be on the phone, look at kitty cats, or focus on your "happy place." I need you to look at me, and of course.... cut MY HAIR DRY. I will only have 30 minutes to do this in, so make me proud. Take it like a man. I can't wait....... Can you?
Here's the plan Stan. Here I am writing away, it may be around 8ish? I think after reading above words I should be splashing around in the tub, you know how I turn into an alligator, poking eyes only out and can see myself in the mirror on the bathroom door. I sigh. Here. I have a new discovery. Bud Light Lime. Yeah. I know. Not really my digs either, but apparently, I love it. Try it. It's kind of like replacing your peanut butter with Nutella.... it's not the same, but it's sooo good too. (try it on toast.) You know me. trying new foods, especially new foods that may/may not be a wise choice. Somehow, I'm still loved through fire and rain. Mismatched socks and all.
Here I go to lay in said tub and look at my toes. Cheers!
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Something I do out of sheer boredom and wishful thinking? I go to sites I adore and shop. I pick and throw in a "shopping bag" or "cart" however they say and today I was in over my head in clothing at Modcloth. Er, about $3,000.00 worth in Monoploy money or my Sugardaddy's money. Whichever. Both are charade worthy. Forgive me for being up in the air. I am having fits. Good fits I believe. I'm working on some things, mostly in my journal. Kind of, paste and copy if you will. Most interesting. Just like a house dream. Comforting. Surreal. Appropriate.
My fury has been overwhelming as of late. I air it out here because of the "no judgement" policy strictly enforced by the "Cathartic Nazi" in me. (Credit given fully to S.N. here) I can understand how reading my blog confuses you all so. I am happy. Very much so. I still need therapy. I still need to cry. This is my shelter from the storm. My dock. My cave. It's the safeplace to get these things out so I don't direct them at the people I love and not hold back unnecesarily. I blog because it helps me to breakthrough. It's my birthing place. It's also a graveyard. We all know my obsession with those............
I saw a falcon the other morning. It was a sure sign. I drove by it, and the falcon acted as if it were there to tell me something. I welcome it. I'm in a funny place right now. I'm in a place where I want to spend a lot of time alone but also want to be checked on compulsively. I wish I had the bones to bring forth my inspiration. I just don't want to miss the boat. I feel as if I am staring at my heart in my hands. It beats. The good news is it's still in my chest. Beating wildly. I can see it clearly though dear. I need to rest somehow. I told B we should make martini's tonight, a la fifties cat and mouse/mom and dear old dad extrodinaire. He agreed. We both agreed they needed to be extra dirty. I reminded him to buy the big jar of olives. I'm much like a kitten running along the piano keys. Unfortunantely I look much like Garfield, less like Arlene. (Pink kitty with big red lips.) (She's a knockout.)
I talked to Terry for a few minutes a while ago. It made me smile. Cheezy.
Hang on. I'm going to experiment for moment. Use some word association. I'm putting myself out there. Trying to live in the great light. Aint no way. For me. To love you. But you let me. It's warm here. The place I am in where people hold me in high regard. What a great feeling. I don't feel like pushing you away. I feel good. She said: I couldnt believe that someone would think that little of me. This made me want to write Thank You notes as if I had come from a surprise party. How thankful I am. She also suggested Tarot Cards. I am so open to that idea. I enjoy the feeling that comes from free thinking. I also am wearing alot of headbands. Lots of feathers. B thinks they look cute. He never complains about what I think is cool. It's automatic with him. How satisfying. I feel no shame. Criss cross applesauce.
Fairy Tale Teaparty.
Birdcages (& veils) Pillbox HATZ.
Delicate vintage postcards.
Teacups. (Your inspiration, S.N.)
Gloves. Elbow length. (Just to try on)
The last temptation.
Maybe I am needy. Dark. I feel no disgrace. But what's wrong with that? I am bursting at the seams. I am fortunate to have very many to care for me. There are souls out there who do not receive any kind of touch. Any kind of human contact. So I pray for those souls. For the sad. For the forgotten. For ministry to touch me. I feel as if String Theory is very much alive in me. There are all kinds of blurred lines. I swear I have dreams of things coming, happening. It's lively. It's tough to focus on the "now". I see very many outlines of it all. I see beginnings of a timeline. It's comforting. Like a soft sweater. I dig it.
I work through the secret. Bombshell in the making. I need to be creative. Pull the trigger. Listen to music. Read the newspaper, piles of books, maybe not the whole thing. I feel inspiration gravitating toward me. The feeling is as familiar as a warm bath. I have to stop foolin' around. Take a leap of faith. Pursue the next step. 65 different things.
You can tell I'm distracted.
Monday, November 23, 2009
Have I mentioned my well is on the fritz at the house? Daddy is all to hell about it. In turn, this makes me all to hell also. There is a ton on my mind, so forgive me. It's gonna be dicey. I need a shower. I mean, I NEED a shower. I also NEED clean water for the dogs. I'm gonna be in and out all week, and this makes me edgy. Anxious. I can already feel the cutting words come out of me. Jeez. I am going to work out today because while in said ridiculous line at Wal-Mart I was able to read about Jennifer Anniston's beach body and how to get it. That's one problem solved.
Here's my BIG problem. I have doggies who rely on me to take care of them. Kenneled doggies. My work schedule? M, T, W, THURSDAY, F, and Saturday. Plus, I am house sitting/dog sitting until Sunday also. I have incredible guilt. I can't do everything. BUT I have no choice to. I have limited help. I have limited time. I am going to be a ball of frustration. Did I mention I'm on edge?
Which brings me to an iceberg of unhappiness. Also, realizing my past choices continues to influence my life today. Making bad choices will continue to reflect. I have B to help. Which is awesome. He can help with Champ, and I trust him to help with Champ. That's the biggie. If you do not have understanding, then you have no business to be around my dog. B follows my EXACT instruction with Champ. Thank goodness. What's my point talking about bad choices and the past and bringing up the dogs? Well, I had a lapse in judgement. I allowed someone else to make bad choices for me when I KNEW I would be the only one responsible enough to take care of things. I also had been told HOW MUCH I DIDN'T WORK. Ha. When I talk about this I want to
A. Drive a camaro.
B. Smoke LOTS OF CIGARETTES.
C. Drink a ton of whiskey.
D. Shoot guns. And lot's of 'em.
At one point we had 5 dogs. Count 'em. 5 DOGS. omg. One went with T, one I gave away after T had brought a BABY BOXER PUPPY to my house. He could always say no to me, but NOT TO ANYONE ELSE. Intense? You have no idea. Down to 3, T was supposed to take Ladybird. Of course, he didn't. And of course, I'm glad. She is at home. Free to run and play, and be watched over since she has epilepsy. She's just MY dog. Even though she was a BIRTHDAY present to T. I know, I know, REMEMBER? Lapse of judgement? Bad choices? My point? No longer manipulated by it and getting a handle on it all, this is my load to bear. I can't stand the upcoming week, the step brothers will eat my face. I'm worried it all can't be done. As usual though, I will do it. I will get it done. Fenced in backyard or not.
Which brings me to an article I had read. It was about making the choice NOT to have children. This is near and dear to me. My dear friends, you know I do not have any of my own offspring. Which can be a burr. People with children are more important. They get to leave early form work, when I have to stay. When did my rights become more negotiable? I have just as much, if not more responsibility. I love children. I think they are wonderful. But if I just procreated just for the sake of procreating this would make me as much of a sham as an ABUSIVE parent. See my logic? I also read a sentence that helped me immensely as of late.
Repeat after me. DO NOT TAKE IT PERSONALLY. Repeat this day in, day out, especially when you feel stressed, or having a finger pointed at you-but-not-really-because-this-is-your-personality and you feel guilty for no reason? Yeah, and this is why I wear the TRUST IN THE LORD bracelet Angie gave me for my bday. These two items have held me through. During doubt, frustration, and given me the courage not to break down. You can't have my bracelet, but I encourage to you to have a focus item when freaked. I have a PHD in this junk.
I also read an article about men our age having mid-life crisis at 35. This is the new 40 apparently. Men our age do not want responsibility or anything. Hell, they want to live on a island by themselves. But fuck women over while doing so. Sorry asshole. I encourage ladies to shut the p*&^%y factories down, and decide, are these 30 something cold fish men a means to invest in? The answer is no.
You will invent things up about yourself, stuck with bills and dogs/children only YOU will be responsible for. These are my issues. This is why I go to counseling. This is the reason I can forge on. And not buy into liars. I will not be married or have another realationship where only I am pulling weight in every aspect. If you are living with me, thinking of living with me, YOU better figure out YOUR shit and know I will COUNT on you, and not coddle you like a child. Have 2 legs to stand on, and pursue me like you REALLY want a life with me. Imitators will not be accepted.
In hind sight of being a person who has been rejected...... At times, not knowing why, I know the reason now why said individuals could not be in my life. THEY DID NOT FIT IN. We were not a match, and I need an individual who will listen and learn in order to be a part of ME. Some of you are married. Some of you still haven't learned this lesson. Some of you are living with an individual who doesn't understand you. AND I HATE IT. Keep this in mind, things can always change. They will too. By your hand, or something unforseen. It would/will take time.
I get all "What about Bob" here. Baby steps. Have the nuts to take those baby steps. Enlighten yourself. It's gonna be scary. Hell, I'm still on the ledge here smokin' camels and darin' B to take one step closer. Thank God he WANTS to. And this is what I want for you too.
Forgive me for the rant. Better out than in, that goes for farts, burps, and emotions.
Friday, November 20, 2009
Do you ever feel as if you may be missing out? Life may be lovely for you, but still, we all need fulfillment. It's just the basic rule for living. If this means, rocking out to metal in your car before you go to work, you should do so. Without penalty. Do you need to buy unbelievably expensive lingerie to feel amazing? Go ahead, order both. One in black, and yes, the hot pink leopard print also. Just put the electric bill first before all that bullshit, okay? Do you need one on one time with your coffee cup and to sit on the dryer for a few minutes in the morning so you can feel (kind of) human, instead of that odd I'm-an-alien-no-one-gets-me kind of ghost we carry with us? I think that's cool. I like that about you, my apologies for never mentioning this.
I don't know where you're going, and I don't know why. Sometimes, I'm caught writing a letter to someone I knew a long time ago while writing my blog. There are different windows left open in my heart and soul. I welcome any emotion to drift through. To seep through. It keeps me human. Viable. Open. Understanding. I need this to not disappear. I couldn't bear the thought of losing the raw nature of the beast. I t frightens me to think you are fearful of losing it too.
Chin up. The thing keeping me alive and not down and out is buying a Vintage dress, and drinking a vodka martini. Dirty.
You guessed it. This whole thing still isn't about me. It's mostly about you. I want you to find some kind of identity that is only yours, and cling like hell to, and hang on to. Imagine being in a hurricane and holding on to the palm tree. The wind keeps your body up and off the ground. Sometimes the most invisible thing, is the most valuable thing.
I can't take any more patronizing blurbs from stagnant ponds. This is where my insecurity kicks in. Kicks my ass, kicks me down the stairs, and I beg myself not to smoke drugs, if I can help it. This is my struggle. I am my own worst enemy.
Until enter stage right: The Freinemy. We all have them. They love ya, but love to see you fail even more. Bullocks. How do I deal with the insane crowds who tear my self esteem to bits? After I punch the pillows on my bed and scream into the mattress for a good hour and a half, I regain my composure and usually rant it out to someone. Well, I usually just confess it all to the dogs. Champ gives me the goober face and usually gives me the goober face and telepathically tells me to "chill." Tiger, of course, suggests for me to pick up a new hobby. Ya know, so everyone will STOP bringing me down. Ladybird suggests for us to run like a crazy ass, and yep, you guessed it, play in the leaves.
If you haven't figured it out, my feelings have been hurt, and it's just how it is. I'm gonna suck on my thumb and just get over it. And realize, there's not anything I can change about it. Oh yeah. Follow my own advice and dig into something only I can do. So there.
I'm not over the top obvious, nor over the top the best choice. I'm quite nauseated to be frank with you. I'm very upset and let down. Spending oodles of time alone today. Forgive me for not communicating, It's just I can't deal with any more criticism.
This has taken a turn for the worse, hasn't it? My apologies. My sparkle has been taken from me. There's not any amount of Bacteen, Princess Leia band-aids, or terrifying staples that will assist my bruised ego.
Everyone else can dream, accomplish, and somehow hold on to it. I need you to take me a little seriously, and no, I have not been drinking wine. Can't you just handle it for a minute?
If this is my condition, shouldn't validation be part of it? I guess we all have a little bit of everything we ever wanted, and everything I ever wanted I found in a deaf dog. But I still need to bitch. Air it out. Be a part of the group. I wrote on the bathroom mirror last night after plucking my eyebrows. I wrote: Fitness is a journey. Not only physically, but emotional fitness ranks pretty high also. There are surprising elements of my personality that I picked up on. I get crazy about eating. Weight. You may even call it obsession. At least I talk about it. At least I'm not hoarding all my urine in the closet like good 'ol Hugh. I just stick to things I want like Velcro. I thought and thought and tried to settle down, and after my hour and a half workout, I did chill. So see? I validated my compulsion, and this is so what I am doing right now too.
If that's not insight to this little pony, there won't ever be. I'm not healed. I'm not fixed. I'm just becoming more sensitive to what works, and what doesn't. This is my adult life. I'm glad you have made a choice to be a part of it.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Wow. My mood! Still very eclectic, rich woman miser. Yeah. Oh yeah, add Glamour puss to the end of that statement. I feel bold today. What a great emotion!!! Except, it could be a product of the Bendryl/Coffee cocktail action I have had. Who knows?
My Top Jams
1. Hurt So Good - John Cougar Mellancamp
2. Dirty Girl - Bobby Light
3. Pirates - Norah Jones
4. My Heart - Rod Stewart
I need to start this out with discussing ice cream. Vanilla Ice Cream. Look, I like anything teeming with sugar and especially anything that makes me crazy and insane, and guilty. Like alcohol. Wait, I'm going to get back on track here. Vanilla ice cream is not the flavor I would pick. Imagine me at the grocery store stalking the ice cream isle. Wearing: Beater, knee socks, cardigan sweater, little skirt, (blue jean, more than likely.) and Chucks. I really like chocolate. I love chocolate ice cream with brownie, marshmallow, nuts, swirls of caramel, I love chocolate ice cream. Any way I can get it.
Until one day, I spotted Vanilla. Waiting. Looking. Kind disposition. I started out with small containers of vanilla. Like, once a week. then, I started to notice the sprinkles on Vanilla. Tasty. This isn't so bad....... So I started talking about Vanilla, encouraged to try what I thought I didn't like. I'm just that childish apparently. Then, I tasted the chocolate syrup on the vanilla ice cream, along with the sprinkles. Yummy. Vanilla makes me smile. It's crazy to think......
I started thinking about Vanilla more than I thought about Chocolate. How cool! I still didn't get it though............ I saw the whipped cream next to the Vanilla, so I added and discovered, Vanilla "could" meet some of my needs!!!! Yay!!!! Who needs Chocolate anyway?
This is the best part! I discovered Vanilla Ice Cream had everything I wanted! Including a cherry on top!!! (I'm so Cowardly Lion, still)
My point? It turns out something you didn't believe you liked, COULD turn into something you love! That brings a grin to my face! Finally!
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
I keep reliving the time in the antique shop jamming to funk trying on hat's with Sue. It was like a time warp. For just a second, I felt as if this is all that mattered. And it did. Until we whisked ourselves back into reality. Moments of that nature make me miss Terry so much. We had quite a few precious moments. I hope he feels the same way. One of my best friends. Did you know his baby can read?
I really need new tights. This is my mood.
New favorite quote?
That's what's wrong with you.
You should be kissed and often.
And by someone who knows how.
Well God Bless America kiddos. That makes me feel downright Patriotic. It also sends a shiver down me spine! Things are falling into place in such an unexpected way I cannot keep up. I am dually blessed. The next 2 weeks will be so full, but I am certain I can make it. I just have to keep my chin up, and middle fingers wavin'. If haters want to hate, then I'm just gonna churn out more.
Have I mentioned how NANNERS the dogs are? Ladybird finally got her treat taken away from her. She was digging in the trash!!! I know, right? I was shocked. She usually has this pleased look on her face like "Lookee Mama! This is what I made for you! She downright grins. Her new favorite thing? Hiding in the piles of leaves I have raked in the yard. She burros deep in 'em, and when you holler for her, she only pokes up her little head. Very Snoopy-ish. It makes me laugh.
Champ. Well, Champ is Champ. His ears are better. I rocked him to sleep in the rocking chair last night. I'm so spoiled........... Rememeber, the cobra.....
Tiger is doing incredibly well. Stealing socks. Hiding in the bathtub. Writing letters to inmates. Whatever will keep his nose clean.
I do have a midnight confession. Somehow, Daddy's pick/ax thing got broken, SOMEHOW. He asked me where it is, and I played like a wide eyed doe. Shocking huh? I don't know which is worse. Not telling and knowing, or spilling my guts to him. He's just so doggone sensitive about shit. Do I just run to the Co-op and buy one, all shiny for Christmas? I guess we'll see.
OOps. Oops. OOOOOOOOOOOps. I mentioned the C-word. It isn't Thanksgiving yet. Here I am, dishing it out when I have been complaining about it. IT WAS JUST A THOUGHT.
Please keep me in your thoughts somewhere, I'm struggling until tomorrow. I'm going to read a little Bukowski today. I really think that will help my creative juices. I have some time to myself, so I'm gonna journal. Like a mad woman.
If you need me, I'm somewhere between the piles of leaves and a Ladybird.
When did we get to the point where we just "give up?" I get a kick out of feeling just fine when other's bark at me. For me just being me. We all need honesty. We all pretty much cling to it. Whe did it get to be so tough to see the truth? What ever happened to pure generosity? Those who are religious will especially identify with this. As a Christian, I have been taught to give and not receive anything back. Can I get a holler back?
OMG. I am in the middle of a raw dog panic attack. I just realized how close Thanksgiving is.
I, am a raging crazy crow. Picking eyes, picking pockets, and taking prisoners.
Starting today, I have to accomplish these measly things in order to be some kind of somebody.
Making it through for one. Meet my folks I am dog sitting for next week. Go to the grocery store and maybe buy a little more than just what will get me through tomorrow. I just don't really do well when it comes to planning. I pretend. I try. I generally am falling on my face. Good thing I do well by flying by the seat of my pants. Right? This lands me to get home maybe around 7:30-8:00 PM. Have I mentioned I really need to be home earlier? The dogs need to be fed, the stepbrothers will threaten to eat my face, and tomorrow is my long day. Tomorrow is supposed to be my long day? What??!!! Not today? Oh shucks. Gonna survive.
Meeting Pastor Bob and Sister Amy Thursday night. If our schedules can mesh. Oh, and workout. Yep. Gonna workout. Very sore from hiking yesterday. 2 little blisters on my heels. I still think I wore the wrong socks. My boo boo. Witnessed bear crap yesterday. Man, I love bears, but I don't ever want to meet up with them. If the weather still cooperates and it stays mild I think B and I are going to try to go camping. I dig that he likes to do things like that with me. He's a sponge. I dig that too. I'm just happy. In light of Tuesday's post, some of you doubt this. The fact of the matter is, I am still angry. I hate it. I hate that this defines me sometimes, because it shouldn't. Tuesday's post did show that I allow this to reflect. I will continue to try harder and be confident in this regard.
I have confirmation. I am to make the turkey this year. Mom is to make gravy and dressing. Rachel is to make whatever I cannot find the time to make. Rachel and I try like hell to take pressure off Mama every year, and somehow it always falls on to her. Because she DEATH ROLLS Rachel and I into submission. It's bullshit. I call her on it. Mama will agree and smile like a Cheshire cat, and of course, she wants to be taken care of. BUT!!!!!!!!!!!!! She also wants to be in charge, and if you don't know this rule, the one cooking is the one in charge. She is BRUTAL in her care taking abilities. Just thinking about this causes me to shudder. Hug your caretaker today. They probably NEEEEEEEEEEEED it. Seriously.
I love charming Mama. It's a craft. And, she's already on to me. The game is tough with her. Mama's are the 8th World Wonder if you ask me. At least mine is.
Charming Mama is like charming Cobra's in India. Have you ever seen that? They play the music, the snakes kind of fall into a trance and these men kiss them on their head. I have my own version of this with Champ....... at least his "kisses" aren't deadly. Back to Mama, she's sick. Some kind of virus. This is where I come in. My night will be MUCH later cause I must go see my caretaker and make over her, cause she's super important. Plus, taking some heat off Daddy won't hurt me either. She shoots, she SCORES!!!!
I have Johnny Ryall in my head. One of the best Beastie Boys songs!
He's better off drinkin' than smokin' the rocks......
Ain't we all honey.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Just get up.
Just don't be so barky.
Just put a little effort in.
Just stop bitching.
Just get off your ass.
Just do it.
It couldn't hurt, right?
This is what you have done to me. I wish you could take some kind of accountability. I wish you hadnt made me feel so insecure. I wish you hadnt treated me like a child. I wish that you had wanted to take care of me, and that it wasnt some kind of chore you had to endure. I wish you could have used some other word other than "burden" to describe me in your life. When it came to my needs, I wish you hadnt acted as if I were the least important thing going on. I wish I had slapped the fuck out of you when you had stolen all that cash out of my purse. IT was always what's mine is mine, and what's yours is mine too. I had never experienced the emotions you had giftted to me. I remember clearly one night after giving you what you wanted, and crying in the bathroom. You had even checked on me. I turned on the washer to drown it all out. After I had gotten back in bed, you so artfully grabbed my waist and told me you love me in that patronizing voice of "just kidding." My stomach hurts right now as I allow myself to recount exact emotions I had to endure. What a nightmare. Turns out, I have to continue to be accountable as you raise your bastard child and rock your whore into false security. I hate you so much that I get overwhelmed and STILL want, and I do forgive you for the damage YOU caused. (Anyone judging me or wanting to discuss this with anyone, please don't.)
The great thing about myself is that I KNOW I have fucked up. I still do. I still feel bad. I still feel unworthy. Again, this is why I am taking care of myself and going back to counseling. My heart is still very tender. I will not allow any more damage. That's why I had to let go of bad friendships also.
I thought I was dead.
I was a ghost.
I floated through work. I was a zombie until I had to go back to work. Then I vomited every day before going home. Alone. Then I vomited more when I discovered I was even more alone at home. Then I cried myself to sleep. Then, I woke up for the day and vomited more. Usually after I got dressed.
That period of my life was when I didnt want to drink coffee in the morning.
I still didnt show my ass. I still didnt careen into the parking lot when I saw the video of you cheating. You had always wanted me to know how much pain I had caused you. Even when it was minimal to the daily damage you wanted me to endure. Your brother was always right. I always needed to make more money. I was always a failure, even though I was told that I worked too hard. I was eager to please you. Until I stopped pleasing you. I sure as hell didnt want to give you blow jobs and pretend to have an orgasms, just so you could feel better about yourself.
P.S. I asked my doctor, and a woman's vagina doesnt have nerve endings inside it. IT's literally impossible for a woman to climax unless appropriately stimulated. Google this if you have a doubt.
And yes, I am still a Miss Know It All.
So fuck you, fly straight, and fly right.
I am on a hike today and greatly satisfied. Yes, I am a fortune teller also.
Monday, November 16, 2009
Of course, Ladybird had destroyed more garbage this morning, so there I was in robe, galoshes, and of course, sunglasses, picking up trash. Before coffee. P.S. Champ had gotten up in the middle of the night and ransacked said purse which had pumpkin muffins in it. My bad. Oh, have I told you the bast part? He had pooped in the kitchen. Thanks. Also, before coffee. I was still in a good mood all things considering. I have become obsessed with oldies. Ya know, on the radio. Barbara Ann came on, and that's one of my Beach Boy's JAMS!!!!!!! I couldn't be upset, but when I opened the kennel door, Champ went runnin' right in. I gave him the stank eye, as he gave me the look-through-my-eyelashes-and-let-you-know-you-destroy-my-spirit-on-a-daily-basis-thing he does. It is that drawn out, and that exhausting. This, is my life. I really wouldn't change it for a million dollars. I mean, I would take the million dollars and like, dance crazy jigs in front of the courthouse in Dandridge. How fun.
Back to business. I received an ugly little letter in the mail Saturday, that has made me purely, well, evil. Hateful. Angry. Chickens, if and when, and I hope you don't experience the ugly little whore divorce can be, wipe your knees off and take this into consideration. Just do what you have to do. Make shit work. Try a little harder. You all have seen what it had/has done to me. Now, good golly, I am changed. I am better. I am a fucking gymnast in "The Rules" everyone else had the pleasure to follow...... and I look amazing.
I roll over and hiss at the daylight known as "reality." Should I call Thomas and raise hell? Should I cry into my mimosa? Should I just stuff it deep and not deal with the fact he continues to hurt me? Well, well, well. No. I am trying to face it. I am toe to toe with all the bullshit.
I have to write him a letter and burn it with Pastor Bob and Sister Amy. I think the whole thing will be cleansing. It's going to be Lent all over again.
Ashes, ashes, we all fall down.
Money is the root of all evil. And it WILL destroy your marriage. Don't be a lazy ass and be scared to discuss it.
I am going back to counseling. I need it. There are some dingle berries that just are still there. I don't need anyone barking at me. I don't need to be told what to do. I need support. Just like you. Just like your wife. Just like your girlfriend. Just like your husband. Just like your boyfriend. Never ignore the folk's closest to you. Your family is just like a flame, ignore it, and it will consume everything. Become out of control.
The only thing I need advice on is based on a Whitney Houston song, "How will I know?"
I'm picking up clues, and setting them down. I like it.
All he has to pay is $60 measly bucks. What a fucker for not wanting to do this. My apologies for my erratic mood change. I just got off the phone with said bank and all they really said to me was: Sit on it and spin. How helpful.
My lady parts are killing me with all the fucking that's going on. Assholes.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Friday, November 13, 2009
I'm jealous. There ya go. Apparently this is a monster I will always battle. I shooed him out from underneath the bed last week and I really thought he was gone for good. I was wrong. He's back.
Let's not butter me up here, okay?
I'm jealous of the perfect photos of Sue and Josh's perfect little baby, the most handsome George. I want one just like him.
Then, to make matters worse, Angie is pregnant, and working it all out by controlling radio stations I listen to, in order for me to hear "Do the dinosaur" and again, her spirit animal (a doe) was right by the barn again this morning. She does these things through mind control all the way from North Carolina. It's such a talent, and I am mad I am not as advanced as she is. It has to be the pregnancy, right? Maybe she's always been this maniacal.
Oh my. Just hold me.
I had talked briefly to Terry this morning and he and Ashley are taking Quincy for his jaundice test. Well, this spawned emotions of "I want to take my baby for a jaundice test!" Unreasonable, right? This is where I swear Terry plunged the knife even further. He had gotten up every 2 hours with the baby to feed and adore. That Terry, he's such a bastard. HE KNOWS I love getting up in the middle of the night every 2 hours with a baby. I'm so on to his twisted game. I love him though.
Then, I remember. MY baby boy Champ is at the hospital. I have my own baby to take to the doctor and get up with every 2 hours with. So ha. Actually, HAHAHAHAHAHAHA.
In your face with y'all and your "children." Human children. What's next? Cars that can drive on their own? Corn that takes itself off the cob itself? Preposterous.
Positive things? I have found a training class for Champ for B and I to take him to. I just gotta work out the specifics. We discussed certain time lines and are writing up "dismissal" drafts to roommates, vagabonds, and to roommate's girlfriends. My dogs deserve a fenced in back yard, and guess what? I think they're all gonna get one. I have even heard, now this is a rumor, that said fence could even be redone the way I want it. Crazy huh? Now that's a mother fucker who knows how I work, and gets a pat on the back for being such an organized thinker. It's the fisherman in him also. Going with his gut and insight to the creature known as "The PLN."
Now he knows said creature cannot ever be caught, contained, tamed, or changed. She'll bite your fingers off. Not without a second thought.
Ran into Mama at the grocery store yesterday. Somehow, we were discussing coyotes, and you know. Guns.
Mama - "Would you like a .38 for Christmas?"
Paula - "Yes."
Mama - "Every lady needs a gun."
The French Tickler of the conversation?
Mama - "You need to be carrying." "I will find out when the class is, you know, to get your permit."
Alrighty then. We have the Griswalds. We have the Flinstones. We have Lucy and Desi. Then there's a clan in the trenches of Piedmont known as The Northerns.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Here's the deal Bill. I'm not pointing fingers, and I ain't mad at anybody, but things are going well for me. As where you may or may not be progressing in your own life, I am fast forwarding mine, and to get a little Judy Garland on your ass, add a martini and I believe I am ready to go. Life for me has been dramatically different. Even though I live in a little country house, I am educated in wine, art, and just all the bull shit you may or may have not been to college to have the opportunity to learn. Also, I am not reliant on the Internet to understand, cultivate or progress my education. I got in the trenches. I LIVE and LEARN. Never forget I am a self made genius. This, again, may or may not be a burr in your saddle. You, my friend, may feel this way toward let's say, an in-law family member. This individual who had said something hateful and distasteful about a dream of yours and made you feel insignificant, they are insecure and unsure of the path they are on.
With that said, as B and I pulled into Louie's yesterday, my completion or lack of completion to continue my education has not made or broken me, so please don't allow this poison in your heart any further. Do not eat the apple, do not pass go, and for goodness sakes, you are loved and highly regarded. Please do not forget this.
Back to my conversation with B, we both know individuals who are highly educated, schooled, if you will. BUT are lacking. Lacking in judgement, funds, and accountability. We also know folks who have not attended college who are successful in said careers, we know folks who are greatly successful in their career endeavors have not ever paid one Government loan, or sat through an agonizing lecture on the price of tea in China. Follow?
See where I am?
I am not looking for any validation here. I am only telling you who I am and who I have become.
Unapologetic, and tired of being made to feel a little less because I have not gotten where you might be. I get to be someone else. I get to recieve a new life.This includes, but not limited to: THE BORDERS OF YOUR IMAGINATION. Then, just a bit farther.
I will stop playing gypsy and trying to tell the future. You have no interest in it, and I will not discuss it anymore. It's apparently extremely boring to you, and hell, you might be jealous.
I just know my life isn't stagnant anymore.
Please don't blame my period. This isn't hormones. This blog post is a result of hurt feelings, and my true emotion. In the words of the beautiful Bonnie Raitt ---- Don't patronize.....