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.....
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Monday, November 9, 2009
I'm thankful for the ones who decided to include me in their lives. It's incredibly exciting. So does it matter if someone doesn't like me? Nope. I continue to go on. Love me or hate me, you still think of me. It still makes me belly laugh how folks trip over themselves just to kiss your ass and continue to feed that warped head of yours........... (person this is directed at, won't read this ever. So you're welcome, asshole.)
I am basically obsessed with purchasing a Bunny Yeager photography book, wonderful M.A.C. lipstick, anything 50's and 60's, a fabulous pair of high waisted, wide legged trousers, a FANTASTIC sailor suit I found on the cheap, and ya know, a basic high-end lifestyle.
It feels so crazy. Even at 30, I'm growing. I'm reinventing myself.
I thought about what Sue had said yesterday, sitting in front of the camera. She had said how I look like a little girl...... and I love it. Big thanks for allowing me to be a part of YOUR unique creative process. If I catapult your ego, will simply keep on keepin' on with mine?
With that said, I love you, every last one of you.....
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Priorities change, opinions change, winds change. I still feel left behind in our friendship. Even though, I knew how temporary it was going to be. You know, just so I could make it through the night? I think of you. Where you might be. If you look at the moon and think about how much I adore the lovely planet. I just wonder. I took a big risk. I took advantage of what did happen in the past. I did realize how badly I needed to let go of dead end streets. It is hard to find what you want in life, but one of the toughest things is to come to grips with is finding what is right for you and then discovering that it wasn't the picture of what you had in your mind.
A sobering happening man.
I still ain't fixed. Not by a long shot. On occasion, I feel quite a bit better. Then I become bombarded with full moons, PMS, and raging hormones that encourage me to want to shank anyone I come across. Again, on occasion, I feel better. Usually after chocolate.
It's when I feel undeserving that makes it a hard pill to take.
Then I slap the bitch in my head that utters doubt into my brain and train of thought.
Friday, November 6, 2009
Alright. Full moon. Check. Mood swings. Check. Too much to do, double check. I can't check my Yahoo and it's making me nanners. One of the top searches this morning? Rue McClanahan. She's a beautiful woman. But, really? I have this huge list in my head that I have written down on different pieces of paper but I really need to put it on one. So I'm not forgetting or flipping out, or killing anyone. Er, or self. Tiger has already had a grand adventure of riding in the car, I have talked to 3 people, on the phone, driving a manual, drinking coffee and somehow not careening into any trees.
Tell it to the judge.
I also need to buy those bumpits things. Ya know to make your hair big and all? I'm going through this 60's fetish thing at present while sashaying in the 50's in the shadows.......
I get to frolic in Georgia over the weekend, and I have/am/already lost it all over the place. Have I mentioned that I can't wait? I'm Captain Goober.
I had traumatic dreams last night, none of which I remember but, they shook me all night long. In a bad way.
My apologies for not having a better blog today, but I'm way out (remember) in left Field so I struggle. I love you! Have a great weekend!!!!
P.S. Monday morning. Terry and Ashley's baby boy will be born. Please keep them and the team of doctor's and nurse's that will bring their precious child to the world in your prayers!
Thursday, November 5, 2009
So what if I'm a touch dramatic. Big deal if I'm super dramatic, eh?
More tidbits from String Theory :
"The more beautiful the bird, the poorer the singer."
"Peacocks scream, macaws screech, Birds of Paradise croak."
Among the most interesting singers, on the other hand, are birds that are less spectacular in appearance : The Black-capped Chickadee, The Willow Thrush, and the White Throated Sparrow.
I am going to favor, my own personal inclination -
Inspiring singing over comely appearance, but there maybe a different bias.
Always recognize the nature of options before you.
My optimal survival skills:
Incorporate the themes of plain beauty,
Disguised power, and open secrets.
Hate me or love me, do it with passion.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
No sleep for me last night. I was very anxious and kept the lamp on. Strange currencies. At least I believe so. I kind of feel like an awesome 60's Do-Wop song mixed in with some early R.E.M. - I fully expected to feel this way. It's the feeling I have been waiting on. My movie is starting to pick up again, no longer in the sleepy parts. Not that any of my endeavors have been sleepy since the Summertime mind you, but the wheels are rolling to a more personal destination. I'm glad. It makes me smile. The book I almost laid down, the story line I had told myself wasn't so intriguing, turns out a sentence made me want to read more. One word possibly.
I am in the middle of String Theory, wrapped up in a soft cashmere blanket in my English cottage. You remember this place I had painted, right?
Minus the Robert Pattison hair, and honestly having somewhat of a Tyler Durden attitude, is here. Except, He loves to ski. I despise snow and all cold weather. He is checking the schedules for ski resorts as I type. Pulling up my wool knee socks up to oblivion. Who knew, right?
I am in celebration mode.
Back to other areas of String Theory :
During a family planning conference on the other side of the world, there were two people connecting and basking in revelry of what is coming in the near future.......
I overheard a conversation from a researcher from Ghana that presented testimony about
tribal issues that had in part gleaned through interviews with dead ancestors.
He said that spirit mediums had acted as his "translators."
When he was met with skepticism from colleagues, he was defensive.
"If only I had heard form the living,"
" I wouldn't get a very good balance."
What a smart perspective.
One I hope I embrace and adopt right now.
To make the wisest decisions and take the most righteous action,
draw inspiration from what has passed away as much as from what's
alive and in your face.
What a blessing, and how intimidating at the same time. I have discovered a new word today. Plush. Yowtch! What a luxurious word. It feels great, you know? It feels great to let go. Of old feelings, habits, and clothes. It's funny how I have put such sentiment on "things." How embarrassing, huh? I am looking forward into this era of my lifetime. I am blossoming into this fabulous 30 year old woman. It's hard to say those words. Why? Because! I see myself as a young girl. I would imagine this is something that I will share all my life. I am making things happen, Angels. At least it feels that way. It doesn't hurt as much as it used to. It's a little easier to shine and not feel "freak show." Not that there's anything wrong with it. We all have facets that catch the sun, catch an eye. All of us are adored by someone out there. We just have to allow them to.
It's 10 AM.
Monday, November 2, 2009
I haven't seen Sue in 2 fucking months. This is really putting a burr in my saddle. I just fucking miss you, okay?
I just don't want to lose myself. I need my own identity, my own life, but I also need to have some sense of security too. I am a tense ball of frustration. I feel like nesting, and cleaning. I feel like disappearing. I feel like "The Boss," Bruce Springsteen in "Dancing in the dark." Some of the greatest lyrics EVER.
I always thought I needed a brilliant mimic of how it should be. Or should have been. I was "supposed" to be a Mama, I was "supposed" to be a great man's wife. But I'm not. Yet. Right now it looks like I have been living exactly how it is for me. I can't wait to make it through this week. I'm barely hanging on, just to be blunt about it.
I realize life would be a lot easier if I didn't feel as if I were being screamed at 100% of the time and made to feel "hard to handle." (I am my toughest critic.) Right? But you work with what you have and continue to hope for the best. I don't feel like feeling guilty today or acting unreasonable. I'm not going to lie. I wish I were on a wild adventure and traveling the world, and at the end of the day telling you all about it.
But the phone rings. Off the hook. I cannot turn on a stream of full concentration.
Dear Lord, help me get through the tumultuous feelings and emotions my body procures. This is just a moment in time that catapults me into the future. I play coy and naive, even though I already know how bright the path is, or is going to be. I am thankful for you Grace. Amen.
Guess I'm back on top, and not being held up by false faith. I'm terrified of losing it. Looks like I'm just human after all.
Have I mentioned how I can't wait to see/hang/play with The Nason household? I'm curious about the photo's you found at the antique shop. I can't wait to talk over coffee. I need a little fix.
I might not feel so melancholy. I have a ton of ideas. Hair is on the forefront. Call me obsessively after dinner. Please. That goes for any of you reading this. I'm just that bossy today.
The season is changing. My heart has definitely been changing. I don't recognize the woman in the mirror sometimes. She looks so innocent but knowing at the same time. I love her but I want her to know how much better she can be. I empathize with the helpless feeling on her face even though she lives a productive life. A funny thing I do, is stare at myself and open and close my eyes really fast and it reminds me of film in the 20's. I see different lifetimes. Sometimes I daydream about what the future holds. How I will be changing and evolving even more.
If you need me, I will be sitting in the dirt basement along with the canned jelly my Mamaw made eons ago. I just don't have the heart to throw them away.