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Bring it, 2011

New Years Resolushuns

  1. Lose all sense of tact and reserve when talking about what’s on my mind
  2. Pick up a cost effective bad habit to replace my expensive ones
  3. Sever all emotional attachments
  4. Write a lot more
  5. Quit drunk driving
  6. Learn how to juggle
  7. Learn how to yodel
  8. Learn how to yodel while juggling
  9. Install the fear of God in my girls and make them watch videos on delivering babies and meth
  10. Go shooting more
  11. Get a bigger place for my girls and I to live
  12. Get back into Sallie Mae’s good graces so I can go back to school
  13. Get roofied in Vegas by a mentally dysfunctional person
  14. Get proposed to so I can say “no”
  15. Learn German
  16. Go on a real vacation aside from the Vegas roofie trip
  17. Resolve not to wait until a marked day on the calendar to resolve things in my life that are less than favorable
  18. Waste not a moment of my time on that which will deter me from what I’ve set to resolve while my fancy new calendar is on my wall
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Empty

Ever love a place so much that you wanted to leave
Ever love someone so much you wanted them gone
Ever love the sound of music so much you crave silence’s song?

Ever summon the nothing
To feel a sense of peace
Ever wish decent into the void to make the blinding light cease?

Well, that sucks. But take comfort in knowing you’re not the only one.

Lesbians, Music and Milk

 

 

I have certain songs/bands that are my “theme of the week”, meaning for whatever reason, I find myself listening to a particular song/band repeatedly for that time span. There’s no reason for this, it’s just one of my “weird things”.
I keep gravitating to Otep this week, especially this song.

 Just seems to fit, for whatever reason.

I like Otep. Despite the fact that she is too cliché activist/lesbian/vegan/political for my taste, she’s pretty neat (on a side note, she’s one of the few women on this planet that my anti-activist, men-loving, meat-eating, politically ignorant self would actually go out of my way to have sex with).

Speaking of fluids and animal products, something awesome:

I was at work, doing my thing yesterday when out of no where, I became immensely dizzy and developed chest pains, followed with a feeling of panic. A “panic attack” as they are referred to. I have had these acute situations happen here and there over the course of my life, and they suck. After a rush of customers, I went into the break room to see if I had any tea, but all I found was a bottle of whole milk that I brought a few days prior and forgotten about. My body reacted in positive favor at the sight of the milk, so I took it as my cue to drink up. After about forty minutes, I felt like a million bucks. Better than before the attack, even.

There’s something to this.

I love animal fat.

I love music.

I love feeling wonderful.

I love ham.

Fin.

Transition

It’s happening. The series of leading to the outcome I’ve been dreading/anticipating is coming to pass.

I’m not happy about this. But that is irrelevant in lieu of necessity.

Thanks, God.

Oh look, a kitten.

But hey, there’s plenty of meaningless sex to be had…

When you spend twelve plus hours cooped up in a building with the same people day after day you tend to get bored. Hence, many “getting to know you” question and answers occur amongst coworkers. I love this. My craving to know what makes peoples’ perceptions on life different from one another can be fulfilled during these times.

One coworker reminds me of a new born trapped in a forty year old man’s body. He is a wonderful human being, but very, very unexperienced in life. What makes him so wonderful is his genuine niceness by ways of his naiveness, but also his inquisitiveness parallels mine. He asks questions that I’m not even close to bold enough to ask.

He is thinking about proposing to his girlfriend, so the topic of marriage has been prevalent lately. Through his many questions, he has forced me to take a good hard look at my views and feelings on the subject. Had we been talking about this six months ago, my feedback would have been very different than what I’ve given him. I would have said that it’s a wonderful concept, something worth pursuing if you feel that connection with someone, something in my own personal life I felt was important that I experienced. Nothing would have pleased me more than to have a man that I loved look at me and feel that, despite his biology, he loved me enough to gift me with his monogamy and to share a life together. The good. The bad. The beautiful. Everything.

In horror, I realize that I don’t feel that way anymore.

Is it still something wonderful? Yes! In theory. In stories. In movies. In Disney. In some wishful thinking part of my being, I still want that. It does a disservice to hang on to a dead concept.

Marriage is impossible, because humans are insatiable. Simple as that. We take everything for granted and disregard the good and wonderful in our lives for the sake of greener pastures. Time shared and love given can be gone in a heart beat once one has a mere taste of something better. And the sad thing? There is always something better.

My boss told me once that I will never land a good husband because I’m not high maintenance enough. I’m too concerned about making a man happy and not making him work for it. I’m having a hard time with this concept. Not that it should be all give and no take, but that I should have to make high, and often ridiculous, expectations that a man should have to run around in circles to make happen for me. She promises that this is what men want to do, and it makes them happy. I reminded her that she’s been married four times and while I respect her greatly and admire how smart she is, I really don’t want to be married over and over. Seems to defeat the purpose.

Surviving the holidays, part one

The time has come for the holidays to sink their teeth and suck dry my mental and literal wallet.

I try not to hate the holidays, but I can’t help it.

It has its upsides; I love watching my kids eat turkey and get excited for the special days at hand, and for their little hands to tear apart the wrapping paper to reveal the joy underneath. Every week they bring home a new holiday inspired craft from school, and it’s wonderful to see their creativity blossom. For Thanksgiving this year they had to write a list of things they were grateful. “Mommy” was on the top of both of their lists. Seeing that made my holiday wish list complete.

If it wasn’t for them I’d be a complete “bah humbug” type. I’m not religious in the Christian sense, so I don’t get excited for baby jesus, and the common practice of finding the perfect gift leaves me feeling jaded. Don’t get me wrong, I love buying people gifts, and I do this for loved ones sometimes for no reason save for coming across something I knew would add value to their day, therefore adding value to mine. This makes some people feel bad if they don’t return it, which defies the purpose of my giving them a present to begin with, making me wish I hadn’t. I don’t like making people feel bad.

Thanksgiving has come and gone. This was the first holiday since the disbanding of my family making it an awkward day. I felt a lot of pressure to give my dad a great day so I cooked my first ever Thanksgiving meal. It came out wonderful.  Too bad he was too sick to enjoy it. I had actually lost my appetite once it was done so out of the six people I cooked for, only one really ate. I had enough to decide that it was one of the best turkeys I’d ever had, and picked at the rest for appearance’s sake. After the family went to sleep and my other two guests had left I went to the bar I usually go to with friends over the holidays. That was equally strange.  Only two out of the group came. Everyone else was home with their family/new boyfriends/girlfriends/cats/neighbors/ect, and the rest no longer live here. Not to say it was a horrible time, but it just wasn’t the same. I was the only one doing any drinking, making for another awkward situation while I drank until I couldn’t feel feelings.

My birthday is in a few weeks. I’m still a few years from hitting the thirty mark, but it will be here soon enough. I have never been afraid of aging until this morning when I caught a glimpse of my reflection and saw some “signs” that I should be afraid. Puffy eyes, slight wrinkling in the corners, that “tired despite sleeping for eight hours” look. I’ve never really had that before. It occurred to me in that moment that I’m not young anymore. Time is passing, and things that are important that I finish before age gets to the best of me haven’t happened yet, like getting my degree and courtship and whatnot. I at least have some breeding under my belt, so that’s good. Once I hit thirty-one, I’ll be making a point to not expand my gene pool anymore, so I’m glad to have the two that I made.

Recurring

Out the picture window, bombs collide
We watched, you and I, life slowly subside
You were inside as the fires spread wide
Loin to throat rose my tide
I came
To fate abide
“This is so priceless” you said
While you were inside
And I cried
As we watched the world die