Jimmy's Head

Soon to buh-bye

2011-04-23T03:19:00.001-05:00

Hey.

*PSSSST*

Yeah, you.

Come over here -> http://jimmyrawks.wordpress.com/

I'm leaving this place, and I think you should come with me.

The cake - she is not a lie.

This isn't goodbye...

2011-04-23T01:22:00.002-05:00

Jeebus. I'm about to transfer this bitch over to Wordpress, and I'm super-scared.

Um, well, if this doesn't work, I'm gonna be really pissed, and it was nice blogging, but I will be eating this entire computer (it's a desktop - there's quite a bit of it) if it doesn't go through successfully.

See ya on the other side. &=\

One-time mania

2011-04-23T00:35:00.006-05:00

Okay.

Mania.

I think this is about as "manic" as I get. I had my first good day today. Like, first semi-good, got out of bed, intermittently did the dishes, didn't feel world crashing on shoulders day that I've had in a long time.

So, B says we have to go see a friend tonight. We go over to friend's house, which is hard, because I'm not drinking or smoking right now, to stay clean (and because of shit that happened, which SUCKED. But, I'll wait and blog about that, when I move my blog over...), and...well, I just need to do this. It's just hard for me to go over to B's friend's house, because it's all that regular nonsensical redneck talk - N***** this, fag that. And, it totally grates on my nerves. Like, my nerves on a cheese grater. And, I keep my mouth shut, because there are times where you just have to - everyone, now - choose your battles.

Incidentally, I HATE those battles. Because it makes me so angry in my head that I don't want to fight with words anymore. I hate that hate. I'm already DEALING with that hate. So, I have to just shut my mouth and look at the pretty stars, or worse - I end up as the babysitter. But, if I have to hang out with people who are stickier than me, just to get a word in edgewise, then I guess that's what I'll do.

SO. B had five out of a six-pack, one hit, and he was ready for bed when we got home. It was 930p. It is now 1242a, and I'm still bursting out of my skin. I suddenly have mondo-energies, and I'm feeling slightly panicked, for whatever reason.

Ummm...MONDAY. Monday, I'll be going to the career center in Alabaster. I'm really nervous about that. Hell, I'm nervous just taking the dogs out. But, this "Jennifer Joad" is going to have to be exercised, like a demon. I'm sick of her. I DO enjoy playing with inchworms and bees and letting the dogs out whenever I want and NOT having to clean up poos when I get home from work. But, she's scaring me. I don't like not being able to look people in the eye when I talk to them. I feel like an agoraphobic...and I very much am not. I've never been. I'm pretty lazy, and I do like my own space, but I've gotten to where I climb B like a spider monkey, when he gets home, and that is ALSO not me. Every time I do that, and he has to unclench my hands just to be able to go take a wiz, I'm like, "What the hell has happened to me? I've undone every bit of independence I've ever had. This is ridiculous. I'M ridiculous!"

I've been doing a lot on Facebook with animal rights stuff. Not that *I* have done anything - I've just been reading a lot, researching and reposting. Okay, so I take it back - I'm not doing much of anything, except hanging out on Facebook. Then, I look at the clock, and it's 3p, and - that's right - nothing's been done. I get REALLY depressed when B's not here, but I get really frustrated when he is. It's a lose-lose sich.

Oh, and the St V/Pell City gig is a no-go. They've got me marked as ineligible for rehire. Asses. I don't want to think about that.

Um...what else?

Oh, I cut myself again. It was the night of "hugest mistake ever, hence the no drinking/smoking deal," but it was also the night of discovering who my real friends...weren't. And, I'm over it. Exceeeept, now I have this lovely gouge in my left forearm to remind me. It's on the inside of my arm, about 8.5 inches long and extends from my first finger on my palm, a little over halfway down my arm. And, yes, I feel stupid. And, no, I don't remember doing it. But, I never said I wouldn't cut myself again. I've never made that promise. I never make promises I can't keep.

Yeah, it was a dummy move, but I did a dummy thing.......which resulted in being judged by a bunch of dummies, so there. I was upset at the time, but I'm good now. It was one of those "don't get fucked up around people you don't know" moves. And, I never will again. Yup. QB taught me my lesson. Even though she's guilty of that and SO much more, I was the one judged and ousted.

And, this is my response:

Rude. Yes. I know. And, totally not my style. But, I've already done my apologizing, and I'm finished. I've already felt bad, but the more I dwell on it, the more I realize that I was wronged as well.

Jesus, this is turning into the zebra ALL over again.

Which is why I'm glad it's over. Because it was ALWAYS drama. And, I'm too old for that. She's even WAY older for that, but whatever.

Back to me.

Hmmm....I think I'm going to play Dragon Age. I wish I could play Paper Mario on Wii. Actually, I wish I could just have peace of mind to just sit down and cross-stitch, but I feel like I just ate a packet of lit bottle rockets.

Fuck. I wish I could write something that didn't sound like a fucking page out of "Dear Diary." Meh. I will. One day.

NO-tivation

2011-04-06T10:06:00.004-05:00

Mmmmkay. One more time, I haven't been a good blogger. It's been a moderately stressful last week or so. And, when you live in the woods and don't have a lot going on, there's not really a whole lot that's worth blogging about.

I'm actually about to jump in the shower, then I'm going to head out, to fill out an app at a staffing service, since their web page isn't working. I'm trying to keep myself motivated to do things because, A) we're out of money, and B) I'm swatting depression off of me like naggy flies. My car is in serious need of repair and an oil change, of which I can afford neither, so I really SHOULDN'T be leaving the house. But, jobs aren't exactly knocking on my door these days. I'm suddenly a part of the "X-Ray Do Not Want" list, which blows, nor do I understand, but that's for another post. One day. When you guys are bored. And, I'm full of woe. And, can't find anything else to bitch about.

Fo' now, Imma go shower. I've got so much shit around here that I still need to do, but I'm not even the slightest bit motivated. I swear, if they could bottle motivation and sell it on the street like crack, I'd take it. I would freebase motivation. I'd even take it in suppository form. This is ridiculous. I know other people have those days of not wanting to do anything, but mine seem to be, um, EVERY, SINGLE DAY.

I hadn't been taking my meds, because I didn't feel like they were making a whole lot of difference, but sure enough as I came off of them, I started feeling worse than ever. So, they're doing SOMEthing - just not what I need them to do.

Plus, I can't figure out what of this is pure laze, and what is depression. Does it matter? Is there really a difference? Because I'm not getting ANYTHING done, no matter what it is. And, my feelings of "LOSER" are starting to set up house again, which makes it even HARDER for me to find that elusive motivation.

According to Google, motivation looks like giant boobs in a fish-eye lens. Yeah. That just makes me motivated to make money, so I can get a boob job and a camera with a fish-eye lens, so I can post my junk on the internet.

Oop - nope. It's gone again.

Okay. My smell is motivating me out of this chair. It's almost 1030, and I've got shit to do. There. That's my motivation for the day. That, and Jack's whining. Although, that's about enough to motivate me to run outside the house with no pants on, screaming.

Oh, yeah. Shower. Here I go.

Celebrity Watch - Animal-Style

2011-03-25T14:04:00.005-05:00

I got to meet a celebrity and a survivor yesterday. &=)

I've got a super-stellar headache right this second, so I'm going to lay down. Just wanted you guys to revel in a picture of this handsome fella, until I get a chance to tell his story.

I forgot what it means to look up

2011-03-23T10:28:00.004-05:00

Oh! Omg, guess what?

Oh!

"A job" was able to get in touch with my aunt (AT HER SCHOOL) and find out where I was, because THEY WANT TO HIRE ME! She said it's likely to be part-time in the beginning, but OH MY GOD IT'S A JOB.

Now, get this: I DON'T HAVE A PHONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ok. Ok, I have to pull myself together. I think I have a little money left in my bank acct. I can go get another card for Bryan's phone.

Oh, but first I'm going to brush my teeth.

OH! Oh! Oh, oh my gosh. I....OH! I have to go!

Hahahaha

2011-03-22T10:24:00.004-05:00

I talk A LOT!

How can you guys stand to read all this?

Jeebus, it's like talking to me in real life.

I just tried to read a couple of past posts (which as you know, I never do), and I almost bored myself into a coma.

No wonder my hits have gone down.

Anyway, just wanted to stop by and merely say s'up.

I don't want to get into thoughts right now, because they're the same as they ever were. And, as much as I LOVE reiterating myself on my BLOG, I just can't bear it. It's like shoving my nose in the shit I've made for myself.

In the meantime, I'll leave you with a picture, since I was up till almost 5 this morning, clogging Bryan's hard drive up with stuff that's funny at 5 in the morning. Don't want the fruits of my labor to go to waste:

Friends don't let friends eat hot dogs, period. PERIOD.

Please help me not give in

2011-03-21T13:09:00.005-05:00

I sit here, soaked in baking soda, vinegar and tears. There's never a time in my life that this song hasn't applied. And, six years later, it still brings me down from scrubbing cabinets, to a genuflection of pure sorrow and pain.

Wonder Woman

Katie Todd

Breathe deep
in light of what is all around you
but don't speak
words are becoming your worst enemy

Seize the day
do you have something you can sink your teeth into
In a stale place
are you able to cry or make a silly face

At the end of the day
you just aren't the same

please don't give in

Are you set in your ways
is there room for change

*please don't give in*

WYSIWYG

2011-03-21T12:35:00.005-05:00

Yeah, I'm fat.

But, I'm still me.

Dreams in blue

2011-03-21T06:56:00.008-05:00

I had a lovely dream, that we met here:

I'm such an old-world romantic. I've never taken the time to trace my history, but I can assure you, I came straight from Italy (or Greece, which would make me even happier). That place has called to me ever since I saw my first photograph of of the blue-topped Grecian church in Santorini. I love that city. I'm obsessed with the lushness of Ireland. I love the history of Rome. I have friends in Bosnia. I've always been a world traveler in my heart.

It's been on my mind, ever since moving. Sometimes it depresses me to think I'll never know any other place than this. But, since a comment from a new friend, Agnar (he's a bird - I know what you're thinking - it will never work. The beak, the talons...but, I digress), I've only been able to think of anywhere other than here.

And, Greece, you're so on my mind.

Your joint is sticking out

2011-03-20T21:35:00.002-05:00

Haha, wow. I was screwing around on my blog settings, and I read where my avg is 3 hits a day.

Which is weird. Because it actually hurt my feelings.

That was weird.

Oh, and the other thing is, I have no idea what this thing looks like on the other side, because none of the settings I make seem to take effect on my side (color, font, eg.). <-that accumulation of dots altogether makes me nervous. Anyone know the correct way for that? Any eggy-heads out there, pleeze advize.

Yes, which narrowly brings me close enough to what I was originally saying (Yep. I forgot.) - I think I'm getting around to picking up my skirts and headed over to Wordpress. I've already signed up - I've just been incredibly distracted (NOT for this post). BUT, the super-favorite thing is that I can have specific posts protected. Plus, blogger has actually become very, um...errrrrr......mmmmMyspace? Yeah. I need a more mature blog.

God, I feel like I just gave you guys a commercial:

WordPress - For the Mature Blogger

I'll have advertisements for Centrum Silver and dating sites for senior citizens.

Okay, right, so I have a little paranoia for getting old. Sue me.

No, seriously, you probably could.

...i don't have anything, though...

Honester than that...

2011-03-20T21:07:00.002-05:00

This just popped in my head, for some reason.

I love this. So comforting. Like a blanket. Of hugs.

I'm with you in Rockland

where we wake up electrified out of the coma by our own souls' airplanes roaring over the roof they've come to drop angelic bombs the hospital illuminates itself imaginary walls collapse O skinny legions run outside O starry-spangled shock of mercy the eternal war is here O victory forget your underwear we're free

I'm with you in Rockland

in my dreams you walk dripping from a sea-journey on the highway across America in tears to the door of my cottage in the Western night

Howl

Allen ginsburg

I was going to say something...

2011-03-20T20:26:00.002-05:00

...but I forgot.

I also just like being able to get on dis blag whenever I want, now. &=)

I'm trying to let go.

I'm still holding on to what I want to, though. Some things you just beg will one day relinquish their hold on you, but some things you don't ever want to release.

And, those are the things for which I'm sorry, but I'll still never reveal to anyone. (Well, there's this one girl...that I love with all my heart, who is THE only person who will ever know everything about me, much to her chagrin. Never met a friend like her and never will again.)

Hahaha, I LOVE rambling, when I'm too high. But, I hate reading it later.

Okay, I have to go or I'm just going to keep talking about nothing.

Going.

....nnnnnnnNOW!

Who are you, again?

2011-03-19T08:57:00.002-05:00

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I MISSED YOU, BLOG!

I'm going to start being more diligent about you. God knows I need it.

Right now, the trailer is in shambles, since we just moved in. I'm in the process of scrubbing out these smelly, old-ass cabinets, that have had funky old crap in them and closed and sealed off for over five years. Holy God, it's...it's almost more than I can bear. But, I live here, so it has to be done.

I'm paying for it right now, by wallowing in some pretty immense pain. That's what happens, though, when you've been fairly stagnant for the last year or so.

Still on quest to find self, as well as either finding happiness or allowing myself to be so.

Back on meds, which I'm NOT crazy about, but I'll do anything to not feel like shit.

Fucker.

Right now, I'm just doing the whole one day at a time thing. Sometimes I can't even handle the one day. I'm like the Monarch - I constantly hate EVERYTHING. I hate myself more than anyone else can ever claim. It's "teh suk," I assure you.

BUT, nothing else to do but keep pushing forward. Every day, I have the same fight with myself about how fucking tired I am, how I just want to sleep, how I want to just dissolve from this world. I have so many fantastic people in my life, though. It's your fault for me wanting to stay. &=P

*SIGH SIGH SIGH*

I have to get off here and rest my neck for a minute, before I have to get back to cleaning the kitchen. I've got to get this shit done, since we're supposed to hang out with Laura and Cory tonight. Everyone knows I've GOT to have at least a 6-hr nap beforehand.

Miss you guys. Miss posting. Miss typing. Miss working. Miss energy. Miss happiness. Miss my best friend. Miss my little mom. Miss life.

Does anyone need hugs? Because I've got a TON stored away, that I need to give away pretty soon, before I get all weird and start hugging myself.

XOXO

Because you know who you are.

2011-02-14T12:17:00.003-06:00

Fascinoma - Don't Go.

Im walking this road
because you stole my car
im singing this song
cause you have all my cds
you want me to believe
in your love
and yet i will when you give back my stuff
give back my stuff

the gerbils are dead
your books have found a new home
under the tree
where i have buried your clothes
and you want me to believe

in your love
and yet i will
when you dig up your stuff
dig up your stuff

how am i supposed to love
my love is in this dark town

how am i supposed to love
my love is lighter then

if you go
if you go
if you go

don't go
don't go
don't go
don't go
don't go

im walking this road
because you stole my heart
im singing this song
cause you stole my cds
you want me to believe

in your love
and yeah i do cause i cant love you enough
cant love you enough
give back my stuff
you have my love

Don't go

My past life, all the retrospection, haunts me like zombies, constantly breaking free of the dirt and pulling themselves free of their cold, lonely graves below.

Happy Valentine's Day, strangers.

Hope yours is better than a mangled heart and tattered memories. Make new ones. Pick a time to start over, and leave everything else behind. This Spring, be born anew.

I'm going to try again, like I do every year.

Maybe this year I can get it right.

Having a beer tonight....

2010-12-29T19:46:00.003-06:00

"Midwest Pet Products:

I don't want to say that your products are crap, because my dog managed fine for his first year of life - while he was small. A few months ago is when the nightmare started. Every few weeks, I come home from work to find him (or my boyfriend's dog) out and our apartment absolutely trashed, irreplaceable items destroyed. Apparently, what they do is slam their bodies into either the front or the back of the crate and manage to unhinge the wire u-hinges, into which the crate walls fit. Today was the last time. My boyfriend and I have given in, and as I type this, he's tying all the walls of both dogs' crates together with heavy-duty wiring. We're at our wits' end. I don't know what you guys are doing with your profits, but you might think about getting your team on a new, reliable design. I've been completely happy with your products, until they started repeatedly breaking out of their crates. After this, I'm having a hard time singing your praises.

Just wanted to let you know."

God damn, I'm exhausted.

On the way out

2010-10-25T22:50:00.008-05:00

So, we got into what I would consider a pretty monumental (yet, INCREDIBLY RETARDED) fight tonight.

It was over whether or not I should go get the grocery list out of the car.

Naturally, we didn't speak all the way through the store, all the way home, and until I got off the phone my friend about one of my prospective jobs. THEN, he was interested.

But, we never talked about what happened.

So, I'm pretty much ready to go. I don't have a lot of patience with relationships. But, to be fair, we don't really have a whole lot in common...except for video games. I really want to, like, go through and LIST the things that bother me, but I feel like that would just be "me pointing out his faults," and I don't want to do that. That's crude, because he's an incredible guy.

This is one of those cases where it's not necessarily him or me (although, it's probably more me than anything), it's both of us.

I'm just ready to be back out on my own again. I feel like a sponge. I feel like he's "putting up" with me, and I DON'T LIKE THIS FEELING. I feel like a HUGE burden...and I am.

But, this is the only option that won't drive me absolutely bat-shit insane, unfortunately.

On the upside, the job thing is looking up. The skip tracing job called me back.

I also heard back from Debbie, who said the lab job has now turned into an assistant administrative job with a substantially larger amount of money. The only drawback to that job is they won't be ready to hire me until sometime in November, but that's just right around the corner, soooo.....

So, I think I'm going to get on with the skip tracing, then move on to the other job. I'd like to at least SEE if the skip tracers would let me stay on PRN or something, but I'm not sure if they offer that sort of thing. Psh, we'll see. I gotta do something, and it's gotta happen soon.

I need myself back. She's not the greatest thing, but I've gotten pretty attached to her.

Maybe we can stay friends....

Breaking down...only to rebuild

2010-10-22T09:03:00.010-05:00

This is how it always goes.

I reach the absolute lowest point to which I can possibly sink. Then, everything starts pulling together. Fast. Almost too fast. And, then I'm forced to make a decision. And, THAT'S the part I'm really no good at. I have no confidence that I'll make the right choice. ZERO. I feel like, I've boned myself this many times over (which I'm assuming is why I'm in this situation), what makes me think I'm not setting myself up for another self-sabotage?

*huff* It's times like this that I'm pretty sure I'm my worst enemy, even though I really do want good things for myself.

So, these are my options. And, mind you, I still haven't had any offers - only interviews:

Job #1 - Skip Tracer

$12/hr

Insurance, 401k, PTO

8a-5p

No holidays, no weekends

Located in Birmingham

Job #2 - X-ray Tech

$21.31/hr + $2 shift dif

Insurance, 401k, PTO

6p-7a, 7on/7off OR 12-hr weekend shifts, plus various shifts M-F

Located in Pell City

Job #3 - Lab Tech

$15/hr

Insurance

8a-5p

No holidays, no weekends

Located in Birmingham

*still don't know a whole lot about this job, yet - just found out about this one this morning

Obviously, my gut says, "Hey, you need money like a homeless man! Take that job in Pell City!" BUT, that would put me - yep, you guessed it - back in Pell City. And, while I ADORE my family and my friends who live there, I really can't imagine a worse fate...for MYSELF. The thought of living in Pell City is enough to drive me even further into an almost interminable depression. It's NOT the people I love, obviously. It's the shallow, bigoted, biased, intolerant, narrow-minded behaviors of everyone else who live there. It's like living in Birmingham, only on a much smaller and more concentrated scale. Plus, there's no theatre, there are no shows, no plays, no decent bars or clubs, etc. I'd have to drive back to Birmingham to do ANYTHING.

On the upside, I'd be back with my family, which is, in no way, a negative. If there's anything I regret about living in Birmingham, it's that I'm missing out on the kids' lives, and I don't get to spend ANY time with my grandmother. And, I'm only EVER going to rue that forever. BUT, if I get a decent, regular job in Birmingham, I can stay here, but I'll make enough money to afford gas and upkeep on my car, which is ideally what I'd like.

I like the idea of the skip tracing job. That sounds like a lot of fun. But, the lab tech job would put me back in the medical field, which for the record, I don't HATE. I just hate working with people who are deliberately hard to work with. I felt really stupid, because I had to tell the HR lady from the hospital about the bullying I had to endure for four years, when I worked at Highlands. I told her that I repeatedly told my boss, but he always ignored it. And, that's what usually happens.

That's why I never told my boss at Makario's that that asshole was stealing my tips. You really think he was really going to reprimand his family member, based on something *I* said? I'm not stupid. Unfortunately, being a boat-rocker and telling the truth has done nothing but screw me in the past, so I'm forced to choose my battles, now. And, I'm not going to generalize that race of people, but I know the people at Makario's always stick together, no matter what. So, that's why I quit. I didn't have to, but I also don't believe I should have to put up with that kind of mistreatment. I don't enter establishments with the intent of making trouble, but I'm always put into compromising situations, where I have to decide what to do, whether it's telling the truth, covering for someone, reporting something negligent or illegal...and you know what? After being basically unemployed for over a year, I'm not entirely sure it's always worth telling the truth, if *I'M* the one who ends up suffering for it.

I don't like that. I don't like having to compromise myself...FOR A JOB. All I've EVER wanted was to have a job, where I go in, do work, get along with the people, get out and get paid. Well, no. I've always wanted a job that I enjoy, as well as coworkers I could call family, no matter the amount of money I make. But, that's pretty impossible, with the selfishness that consumes people today. These days, I'd say probably 99.8% coworkers will throw you to the wolves without any reflection. The closest I've ever been to anyone was at Grow, and those people are still in my life. But, they're good people, too. No one there ever gave each other any crap. We always worked hard and worked together like an office SHOULD. I mean, holy CRAP! Aren't we all working towards the same goals??? I can't tell you the people with whom I've worked (and currently know) who work harder trying to AVOID work. It's insane.

I love working. I don't expect anyone else to. But, I do expect a certain amount of respect and even forced pleasantness to occur, when you're at a job. And, you know what? When you push yourself to be more positive, you actually BECOME that way. It's weird.

*INCOMPLETED* <-I hate when I do this...

Points of light

2010-10-18T14:21:00.008-05:00

I know this is a repost. I can't explain what I'm going through, but this song touches something very deep inside my psyche and addresses those things with which I'm having problems. Basically, my problem is letting go - I just never learned how, without obliterating everything, including the beautiful things.

Stars - Your Ex-Lover is Dead

God that was strange to see you again

Introduced by a friend of a friend
Smiled and said 'yes I think we've met before'
In that instant it started to pour,
Captured a taxi despite all the rain
We drove in silence across Pont Champlain
And all of the time you thought I was sad
I was trying to remember your name...

This scar is a fleck on my porcelain skin
Tried to reach deep but you couldn't get in
Now you're outside me
You see all the beauty
Repent all your sin

It's nothing but time and a face that you lose
I chose to feel it and you couldn't choose
I'll write you a postcard
I'll send you the news
From a house down the road from real love...

Live through this, and you won't look back...
Live through this, and you won't look back...
Live through this, and you won't look back...

There's one thing I want to say, so I'll be brave
You were what I wanted
I gave what I gave
I'm not sorry I met you
I'm not sorry it's over
I'm not sorry there's nothing to save

I'm not sorry there's nothing to save...

Missing pieces

2010-10-17T05:28:00.006-05:00

Holy hell. I've got to pull myself together.

I have no idea what I'm in this for anymore. I'm so fucking depressed, I can hardly get off the couch. I can't motivate myself to do anything. I can't even motivate myself to cry OR get help. I can't answer the phone anymore.

And, when I was standing at the Portugal. The Man show the other night, I actually resolved myself to death. I conceded. It's been ages since I've gone home with anyone from a concert, but I found myself hoping I'd run into the reaper on the way to the bathroom. I would have left with him, without a second thought or a backwards glance.

That scares me.

I need something. I can't find ANYTHING within myself anymore. I can't DO anything. No one has any inkling how fucking difficult it's become, just for me to talk myself into leaving the house...for ANYTHING. My bank account is in the red, and it happened because I refuse to go to the bank and deposit this check.

What is going on??? How long is this going to last? Is this it? Is this who I've become? What's the point in going on? I can find no motivation, no push, no drive, nothing but anger and resentment. I hate EVERYTHING right now. I've missed so many of my friend's parties. I've desperately missed my family. I completely abandoned my best friend for the last year or so that she was here, and now she's gone. I've missed out on almost everything this past year.

And, it doesn't seem to be getting better. At all. I had 365 days of hell. Why am I being forced to suffer more? I hate to be self-righteous, but why am I being forced to suffer at all? Every time anything goes wrong in my life, I make myself reevaluate who I am as a person, and how I could possibly be negatively affecting anyone in my life. It helps from time to time. But, every day? For 365+ days? Am I REALLY that horrible of a person? I TRY to do right, and I TRY to do things for others...pretty consistently, actually.

Jesus. This just goes off onto 90 different planes of insanity. It's so unorganized, and I'm so broken, I just don't know what to do anymore. I'm so tired. I'm too tired to get help. I'm too exhausted to care. My self-esteem is so low, I can't even force myself to have a reason to physically stand up straight.

And, it all stems from me not having a regular job. How is that possible?

I'm so far from who I ever wanted to be, I can't even figure out what the fuck I'm supposed to do...except pray for death every, single day. I don't even want anyone to sympathize with me anymore. I can't hardly stand to think that anyone else actually feels this horrible. How does the world keep going on?

God, I need direction. A sign. Message in a bottle. A REASON. Sanity to check back in. Any time.

Please, life. PLEASE. Don't make me keep doing it like this. I'm so sick of this depressive repeater. I'm sick of typing the same shit. I'm fed up with being this faggy homebound human being. I'm tired of all my blogs being about the same god-damn thing every few weeks, months.

Fix me?

Adventures in Rooming, Part 1/God, please don't let this last long

2010-09-20T23:25:00.009-05:00

Okay, so.

I have roomies, now.

I'm not sure if I've ever mentioned this, but I HATE living with other people. Mainly, because I'm a wretched, ogre-ish bitch and VERY set in my ways. And, I can't stand having to put up with other peoples', ahhhh, dirtiness? Yeah. I guess that's pretty much it. It's okay to be dirty in your OWN house, but I think when you live with other people, if you guys aren't dating or married, you should probably pull yourself together and clean up your act, so to speak.

Example 1:

Does anyone know what this is?

Here, allow me to zoom in:

I'll give you a hint. It's dried poop. And, it's been there for a week, now. Mind you, this is not a trick of the lens that I'm doing with my awesome point-n-shoot cam skills. This is the LID of the potty. For those of you who might be confused as to where that is, it's located on the OUTSIDE of the toilet.

Now, let me back up for a minute and tell you, I'm going to be talking a lot about the roomies, but we're going to use nicknames, so that we don't severely embarrass anyone. Because God knows I've done enough horrifying stuff that I actually HAVEN'T posted on my blog, although I haven't the slightest clue as to why. It's not as if my life could be anymore shameful than crapping in my pants, while being attacked by a psycho.

But, I digress. And, now, regress.

While I was NOT present for the making of this piece of art, I can pretty much guarantee it was Shatner who did it. The reason I know this is because when Shatner and I lived together previously, he had a night of drunken debauchery - his birthday, as a matter of fact.

A few months ago, he got REALLY shit-faced (no pun.........THIS time) and when we got home, he managed to shit, not only all in his pants (and then, subsequently HIDE them deep within the bowels of the dirty laundry, which I found LATER, much to my dismay and the disgust and almost projectile vomit of brand new boyfriend who was helping me do my laundry), but it covered the whole outside of the toilet, as well as the floor, tub, and the wall to the sink, which were on either sides of the toilet. As I came in from escorting new boyfriend to his car, I opened the bathroom door, just to check on him, and saw Shatner standing BUTT NAKED in the middle of the bathroom. He said, "JUST A MINUTE!," and slammed the door in my face. "Uhhhh, you're naked. Are you...okay?" "Yeah, I just got sick," and as I looked down, I realized that I was standing in a pool of alcohol-vomit, outside the bathroom door.

I pulled some yucky towels out of the closet and mopped it all up. I managed to somehow get Shatner coaxed back into the bed (while we were no longer dating and no longer sleeping together, we WERE still sleeping in the same bed - hey, I used to hate letting a king-sized bed go to waste, but that was SO long ago...) and he finally went to sleep. In the morning, when I awoke, I went to said bath-puke-pooproom and noticed there was, what appeared to be dried shit and toilet paper all over the floor, bathtub, potty and wall. I managed to get most of it mopped up with some lysol and a rag, and when I made it back into the bedroom, I saw...POO STAINS ON THE SHEET.

If you know anything about me and my relationship with my bed, you'll understand why that's a bad thing. VERY bad.

So, here's what actually happened:

Shatner falls asleep on the bed, while I'm walking new boyfriend out. He gets sick in his sleep, and as he jumps up to make for the bathroom, he barfs and craps on the way in. The puke, obviously, goes on the floor, since there's no barrier to stop it. The poo is contained, until he makes it to the potty, where he removes soiled pants. He sits on potty with soiled behind, and in removing rancid pants, steps in crap in pants, thereby leaving behind li'l footprints. It's kinda like Footprints in the Sand, but not quite as endearing and a WHOLE hell of a lot smellier. After marching around in poo, then "disposing" of pants (he swears he doesn't remember hiding them, but I certainly remember throwing them in the trash), he drunkenly sees the mess he's made and attempts to clean dookie with dry toilet paper, which I'm almost certain when you're drunk LOOKS clean, but in reality is a whole lotta smearing, if nothing else. After I coax him from the bathroom, he comes and climbs into bed, where he digs his feet into my sheets, leaving skidmarks of poo.

Ah, I forgot to mention that when I literally SCARED him awake, by yelling at him to wake up, that I'm changing the sheets, because there's shit in the bed, as he was climbing out of bed, he had crap all up and down both arms and on his chest and face. I said, "If you touch me, I'm pushing you off the balcony." I forced him into the shower (the conversation went something like this..."But, I don't feel good!" *SHOVE* *water on* "There. I made you better.") and cleaned and scoured and disinfected. I'll go ahead and say, I've cleaned up a LOT of adult excrement and yuck in my life...but there's NOTHING like that shit infecting your sanctuary...and it's NOT YOURS.

Okay, so all this brings me to the present.

Yuck.

And, if I SOMEHOW GET PINK-EYE (after washing my hands to the point I can hear the bones of my fingers clacking together as I scrub), I'm killing everyone in this house and possibly on this block, including myself. I've already mentioned the poo stain and have requested that it be removed, but all I got was an "I didn't do that! Is that crap? It's not mine!" Like hell it isn't. If I know anything, it's the color, shade and smell of Shatner's innards. After practicing advanced bathroom techniques for over 30 years, I've managed to always make mine stay IN the potty. I had one instance where I had a premature defecation, and that was when that psycho at my old work took me down like a linebacker. I'll admit, it literally scared the shit out of me. I don't know how that happened, but I remember it, and I remember being not only incredibly shocked, but also extremely mortified. I even forced myself to tell my lawyer, in the hopes that it might strengthen my case. So far, I'm pleading with him to forget I said that and "PLEEZE don't make me say that on the stand, if we can possibly win without my telling that part." But, that will make all of one time in my adult life that I've pooped myself. So, there.

See? Crazy stuff happens all the time. I just don't always have the balls (or the internet) to mention it at the time.

Anyway, when this guy drinks, he's got the rectal control of a 90-year-old. Wait, I take that back. I've done air contrast barium enemas on over-90's, and they've still managed to hold it better than him.

Of course, THIS "shit" is just the tip of the iceberg. Mo' later.

Next time, don't come in here

2010-09-19T10:57:00.006-05:00

Got this from a customer yesterday, INSTEAD of a monetary tip:

Okay, seriously, DON'T ever leave your server "tips" like this, unless you want to make an enemy for life, unless you're telling her how friggin' awesome she is. I can PROMISE you that we do NOT take your "advice" into consideration or even seriously. I can't believe what judgmental bitches people are, when you wait tables. I mean, for fuck's sake, who the hell grows up and says, "I want to be a server, so that people can treat me like TOTAL dog poo for 6-12 hours out every, single day!" Almost everyone I know has waited tables (reluctantly, no doubt) at some time in their lives, and nearly every person who ended up having to work in the same kinds of places I've worked (lower class establishments - not like Bottega), it's resulted in some of the most miserable experiences of their lives.

I may not be the best server in the world, but I'm all over my customers like scabies. (Probably not the best analogy, but whatev.) I watch them like a hawk. I bring all their food, the absolute second it comes up, I keep their drinks filled, and when they take the last bite of their entree or even LOOK like they're not interested in their food anymore, I swoop in with the check - I'll even wait for them to pay, if they start digging for their money. If things are getting hairy, and I've got 50 tables going at once, yeah, I'll bring your check early. But, it helps ME keep everyone straight, and I, personally, HATE waiting on my check. HATE IT. I hate when it seems my server has disappeared into the nexus, and I'm left with a bone-dry glass and no check. I'm constantly walking by my tables, so that if anyone needs anything, all they have to do is look at me or put their hand up to catch my attention. I am THERE for my customers. (And, yes, I'll divvy out hugs to those who need them.)

Apparently, this guy wanted me to burp him, change his diaper, and lay him down for a nap, before I brought his check. Now, he's just going to get a loogie or a booger in his food. Okay, okay, I'm totally kidding...................maybe. *raises eyebrow*

Lesson for the day:

DON'T piss off your server. 99% of the time, they're in a difficult place in their lives (which is why they're waiting tables), so they'd appreciate a little kindness on your end, too.

Jennifer vs. The Job Market

2010-09-13T00:50:00.004-05:00

Post 500, and I will go ahead and apologize that it will not be monumental, nor groundbreaking.

We just back from seeing Scott Pilgrim vs. the World, and I can easily say it was one of my favorite movies EVER. I would like to see it in the theatre again (about 50 times), but I guess we'll have to wait for the dollar theatre...since we're broke, and it's about to leave the cinema, anyway.

It's one of those movies that I could watch at any time, and it could cheer me up, IMMENSELY. I adored the music. I loved the people. I was rapt with all the CGI stuff they did.

It. Was. AWESOME!

Now, to bed. Work in the morning, where I will put in my 2-week notice. The bastard who works up front has been stealing my tips. I've caught him twice, but I refuse to besmirch myself by being a tattle-tail. Every time I do that at jobs (be labelled the "boat-rocker"), I get this horrible reputation that I'm never able to live down. So, I'm leaving this one behind - at least no bridge burning. It's the least I can do, with as horribly as my life is going right now.

I can do better. And, I will suffer greatly before relief comes. But, I will do better...for myself.

Where were you?

2010-09-11T11:30:00.004-05:00

On September 11, 2001, I was on my way to Children's Hospital. It was my first real job after I'd graduated as a tech, and I'd been there for only a few months. When I got to work, a lady on the elevator said, "Isn't that awful about the Twin Towers?" I said, "Yeah...wait. What? What happened?" She said, "A plane apparently went off course and crashed into one of the towers!...all those people..." I had no idea - I guess I'd been listening to a CD or something on the way to work (back when I HAD a stereo in my car).

When I got to work, and I was passing through CT, that was the first time I'd seen a news report. I went and got my phone and called my aunt Amy. I stood there, clutching the phone, and we watched together in horror as the second plane crashed into the second tower, and subsequently, as the first tower collapsed. She and I cried on the phone together and told each other how much we loved each other.

Aside from physically being with my family, there's nowhere else in the world I would have rather been.

I love you, Amy. Thanks for being the main memory of my 9.11.

Blog about your day - Take 1

2010-09-10T23:40:00.005-05:00

Shleepy.

I just got back from babysitting someone's five chilluns tonight...and I made twice what I made from working seven hours at the restaurant today - AND this asshole stole my tip today.

I fucking hate that job.

With a FIERY PASSION.

I'm going to bed. ArtWalk with Bryan tomorrow afternoon, then slave labor from 5p-2a.

NOT looking forward to this. This week has been a complete suckfest. It seems the more I work, the busier it is, the harder I bust my ass, the LESS I bring home.

God, PLEASE make this be more temporary than I had first hoped...

Lost Child

2010-09-08T22:54:00.006-05:00

I lost my puppy today.

No worries, though - he's back safe, now, and sleeping soundly in his beloved crate (his "house"). I know people think crating is horrible, but had we not been at it for over a year and he not retreat there EVERY time he's tired or in trouble, I would have definitely reconsidered.

He's been such a good boy, since we've moved. It's weird. He's a changed dog. I actually think he likes it here. He gets to go outside and play in the backyard (and, apparently, the crawl space) whenever he gets antsy. I wasn't sure how he'd take to backyarding it, but he's done really well.

Until today.

I actually left work about ten minutes early, with a HORRIBLE stomach ache, drove home exhausted and completely ready to fall apart, once I reached my bedroom. I came in, threw my crap on the bed, and dropped onto the mattress. Booboo came in to greet me, and looked up at me and meowed.

"That's weird. She NEVER talks, unless something's up."

That's when I realized that I couldn't hear Jack. I got up, walked into the kitchen (where said "house" is), and saw his crate empty. Mark was gone, and Ryan was at work, and I immediately got FURIOUS with Mark, for leaving him out, when he had left the house. Not a smart move in a city with a high crime rate, especially for stealing nice, pretty doggies who are fun to play with. I looked out the window to the backyard, but didn't see him. He likes to stay in this weird area next to the house, that still has fence around it, so I figured he was there. I walked outside, called his name.......nothing.

I went to the side of the house, peered into the brush and couldn't see him. I TRIED not to freak, so I came inside to call Mark, to see if maybe he took Jack to the dog park and forgot to tell me. Mark's phone went to voicemail...like, five times. I texted him. Then, I Facebooked him. Then, I started worrying. He texted me back and said, "he's in the backyard."

At that moment, I went off the charts. It was that whole "I thought he was with you" statement, that makes your heart fall into your feet and you hear that screaming in your head, only to realize that the sound is actually issuing from your mouth.

I called Mark and simultaneously tore outside, screaming Jack's name. The elementary school across the street was letting out, so I thought for sure he'd be over at the playground, with the kids. He's a TOTAL social butterfly like that - way more than his mom will ever be. Mark was telling me how he'd left him in the backyard and checked on him before he left, and I tried not to curse too much, since I was kind of phasing in and out on what he was saying and concentrating more on finding Jack. I ran back through the alleyway, next to the house, and broke through to the other street. There was a lady loading things into her car, and she obviously heard my frantic screaming (and saw my frantic hair), and said, "Hey, did you lose a dog? He's over here! He's been hanging out with me for about 30 minutes!" I started crying when she first said that, and I said, "a big, brown one???," and she said, "Oh! No....he's little and white, with black spots..." I described him to her, told him he was wearing all his ID (his driver's license, as we call it) and to call the phone number on the tag, if she saw him. Then, I took off towards the car.

I jumped in the car and literally drove up and down every, single street in the Glen Iris area. I was on the phone with Bryan at the time, and I was screaming his name like a crazy person. I circled the school several times (places with people), I drove back to our old apartment (places we lived), I looked in the pool (places he wouldn't be able to get out of), I drove back to the dog park (places he loved) - I even got out of the car and waded through the creek that circles the dog park, shrieking like a banshee. I know people thought I was insane. I went back to our old house and circled the block, where we would walk every afternoon, when he was a baby. Nothing. I drove to Dreamland (places that smelled good), I went back to Vickie's (places he'd remembered), I visited the house of every, single dog we'd ever played with in that area, but he was nowhere. I sat at the light on Green Springs, took my seatbelt off, climbed halfway out the window and SCREAMED his name over the roar of the traffic. Everywhere I went, I kept expecting to see him come bounding through the bushes or down the hill or from behind someone's house, with that juicy, pink tongue in tow. And, it seemed that everywhere I went, EVERYONE had seen a dog...but it was that same little white dog...and he wasn't mine.

I was frantic. I came home, after about an hour of searching and posted a desperate message on Facebook. My friend Mindy was online (thank God) and sprung into action. She reposted his picture, my message and a note, requesting people to share and keep a look out. I left the house, again. Mark had called, saying when he went to pick Ryan up from work, they ran out of gas in Southside, so they were walking back. I'm pretty sure I just hung up on him - I was distressed, distracted, and livid. The last thing I cared about was them (sorry). I started casing Glen Iris again, moving a little closer to Five Points. Still nothing.

Nothing.

Everywhere I went, absolutely nothing.

Finally, about 20 minutes or so, after I got off the phone with Mark, he called me back. (Bryan had been calling intermittently, to check to see if I'd had any luck.) All I heard was, "Hey! I found him!" The person behind me almost rear-ended me, when I slammed on my brakes (I'm sorry, person). I yelled back at Mark, "WHERE WAS HE???? WHERE ARE YOU????," and he simply said, "Home!"

I was way over towards the police station, and I tore into someone's driveway, backed out, and ended up back at what I SWEAR was the longest light in the history of the universe and got behind the SLOWEST person ever. All my windows were all the way down, and I screamed at the top of my lungs, "CAN YOU DRIVE ANY F*%&ING SLOWER??!?!?!??"

I wheeled around the "Do Not Enter" sign they had put on the street next to the school (yes, I was watching for kids - don't prosecute me) and tore sideways into the driveway. I jumped out of the car, fell out of my shoes coming on to the porch, and slid inside. There he stood, at his water bowl, sucking up water like it was going out of style. He looked and wagged when he heard me, but turned around and resumed his water funneling. I grabbed him and hugged him and cried and hugged his heinie while he drank water and grabbed him up again and fussed and cried some more...it was a very emotional time for me. &=\

Mark said he'd been at the house the whole time. When he and Ryan got home, Mark checked the backyard and went into that weird place next to the house - I can't explain it, except that it's about as wide as one of us, extends almost the length of the house and is COMPLETELY overgrown with weeds, brush, vines and cockleburs, or whatever those tiny, brown things are that get stuck on your clothes. We waded all the way the end, and almost at the end is a SECOND crawl space, big enough for maybe a small ten-year-old to fit through. Mark said he'd come all the way down, to see if he had dug his way out (he doesn't dig, and I'm not entirely sure he knows how - he's a very sheltered dog), or if there was a break in the fence, and when he looked down, he saw his tiny, light brown face, peering out of the hole of the crawl space, making no noise at all. Mark said Jack was wedged in there, and he literally had to PULL him out from between the concrete blocks. We'd had no idea how he'd managed to get in there in the first place.

I stood there and hugged Mark and cried forever, wailing, "THANK YOU FOR FINDING MY DOG!!!!!!!"

So, happy ending for once, to my day.

We have no idea what's under the crawl space, why it's making the band room smell like dead bodies, or why it keeps eating my pets (Booboo was it's first victim), but we're going to find out tomorrow...when one of us finds a working flashlight.

Until then, everyone's home and safe and sleeping, which is the way I want to keep it.

Aside from that, Jack's been eerily quiet, since Mark pulled him out. He laid with his head in my lap for about 15 minutes, which is unusually placid for him. And, during the band's practice and Joseph coming by to check on him, Mark said he didn't make a peep, which is ALSO very strange. After practice, and after Bryan came and went, Jack laid in the floor and seemed to just stare off in the distance. We kept making jokes about what he must have been going through under there and what had he seen that seemed to have traumatize him so? I'm sure he was probably just exhausted from being stuck under the hot house for two hours, listening to me scream his name around the neighborhood (he NEVER barks unless he's bored, so I'm sure he didn't know how to respond), being rescued, and then band practice (he functions as the audience or peanut gallery, now)....but it's still weird.

Jack, what IS under the house?

????????????????

Bottom of the Barrel...

2010-09-02T10:59:00.004-05:00

...or bottle, whichever I hit first. Actually, I told Bryan last night, after Mark destroyed my bed, that I feel like I'm laying at the bottom of a disgusting trash can with my mouth open, and life is just showering me with garbage.

I always feel a little self-conscious, talking about this crap, but I have to.

I've reached a NEW low. It happened last night, in the rush to get everything moved, and as Bryan and Mark were moving my bed frame down the mountain, Bryan said Mark was shifting too hard, and part of the bed frame jumped out of the back of the truck (yeah, I just anthropomorphized my bed - deal) and skidded down the hill.

I don't know if you've actually ever seen someone lose her shit over a bed - and I did not - but I did have to leave the house. Disregarding my fears of living in this part of town, I stopped caring, and I walked outside and down the sidewalk, for about two blocks, and planted myself on someone's front steps. I sat there and seriously considered my place in this world. I considered and reconsidered and then decided that this move, into this house, with Mark, was a TERRIBLE idea.

Let me clarify - it's not just about the bed. I mean, don't get me wrong - the scarring of a $3000 bed, that's been in near-pristine condition for almost a decade, does WORLD'S of fucking with a miserly middle-aged lady's mind. Considering it's the only NICE piece of furniture I own (which was my mistake, I assure you, but, again, it was a decade ago, so give me a little leeway), I kinda wanted to keep it that way. Had I the moolah to run out and buy a new, giant, good-for-your-back bed, I'd totally do it. I'd throw caution to the wind and buy that bed!

But - and this is where the "where the hell is she going with all this" comes into play - I have no idea what to do with the rest of my life. None. I'm completely out of ideas. I have a degree in x-ray...but I can't stay here (in Birmingham) and be a grunt for the rest of my life. I don't want to.

My original plan was to move to San Francisco and start working on getting a degree in computers. What kind? I don't know. Whatever. Then, "some guy" was telling me that that's the worst decision I could make, going into computers, that by the time I get done, it's going to be like x-ray, the field is going to be saturated, etc, etc. Not that "some guy" is going to tell me what to do with my life. But, it just made me nervous. Plus, my grandmother isn't doing well, and while I'm not actually helping my family out by sitting here blogging, I know Amy and Diane are running themselves ragged, taking care of Grammy, and I can do nothing from where I am. Amy's exhausted, working AND taking care of Grammy, and I know Diane's exhausted, but she's also seriously getting on my grandmother's nerves, which irks me. I'm not even going to go why, because *I* know why, and that's all that matters.

When the attack (by Jerry) first happened, I sent out an email to my loved ones, explaining what had happened and expressing my concern for a.) nearly throwing my life away on a fraudulent company and the indecision of what to do next, and b.) the concern that I was taking him to court as merely an act of revenge, something to which I'm not accustomed. I received all of this positive feedback (most of it only inspirational, yet not very directional) from everyone, except Diane. She sent me something back that simply said, "You don't want to know what I think." Putting all of my misgivings about our arguments over religion and her short-sightedness of the world in general in the past, I wrote her back and said (to paraphrase), "No, I sent this to you for a reason. You're family, I love you, and I want to know what you think." So, she wrote me back once again and said, "If you want to change the world, you need to come home and take care of your grandmother."

I actually can't remember if I've blogged about this already, so if I have, forgive me and just skip this part.

Haha, repeating that even NOW makes my blood boil. In fact, it makes me laugh, it's so...I don't know. When MY MOTHER was sick, I took care of her. I held down a full-time job (until they forbade me from leaving one time, when she had been taken to the ER - that's when I put my foot down and quit), I went to school full-time, and I moved with her, back and forth, from the hospital to the house, whenever it became necessary. I know I was a youngin' back then, and I had a LOT more energy. I also had Aaron at the time, to help me do a lot of the running back and forth from Pell City to the hospital. The only time I would ever ask anyone to look in on my mother was when I was at work or school. 99% of the time, I did everything myself, which includes changing her diaper, helping her on and off the bedpan or potty chair, going to and from the bathroom, scouring the city for the only foods she could stomach, while she was on chemo, driving to and from home, to pick up bills, take care of the cat and run whatever errands were necessary. Simply put, I just did whatever I had to do.

So, here I am, only recently 33, newly dating someone, new job making very little money, working like a dog, still desperately seeking employment that will allow me to support myself, looking STILL to find my place in the world and develop a life of my own. Now, I know 33 is getting up there, but for the love of all that's holy, my life isn't OVER. So, according to Diane, I should just give up my semblance of a life and come home, to the town I loathe, and settle down and take care of my grandmother, HER mother.

And, I'll tell you why that is. It's because she ONLY wants to function as a grandmother. She doesn't want to do anything but do stuff with Katy and the kids. Diane's always going on about how Katy constantly needs help with the boys. And, I'm not faulting Kate AT ALL. Kate's an adult. She had three kids on her own. I'm pretty sure she can take care of them. Amy had four of 'em, no job (like Kate), and Mark worked full-time (and then some), and they did just fine. She'd ask for help from us, whenever she really needed it. I understand people need help. I'm one person, and I need help sometimes. But, the fact that she would pin this solely to MY chest, to wear like a badge of shame REALLY PISSES ME OFF. Well, I say solely - she talks plenty of shit about Amy, too, so I shouldn't say it's just me. In fact, she's the biggest shit-talking "righteous and upright" Christian I know. She preaches all this crap to everyone's faces, but she sure as hell can't follow through on her game. I know she's old and tired - fuck, *I'M* old and tired. The government and church family aren't taking care of me. The fact that I've had to be on unemployment DISGRACES me. The fact that I have a degree and NOTHING to show for it, makes it hard for me to look people in the eye. I have a lot of pride for someone who deserves nothing. I mean, what makes me special? Not one fucking thing. But, I know I'd rather be able to take care of myself with full-time work and pay for my own health insurance than have to worry others with the task. This move has been humiliating, to say the least. While Mark (my roomie) destroyed my bed and has broken several of my things, including my will to live, he's been the one supporting us with his student loan money. I mean, I supported him, back when he first moved in with me, and as I always say, if I had unlimited resources, I'd totally take care of everyone; not a complaint would escape my lips. The fact that I have NOTHING, at this point in my life, is very difficult for me to deal with.

Uhhhhhh, all my stories are starting to cross. But, see, this is what's happening in my mind! This is why I'm turning crazy again! I'm finding less and less reason to pull out of this funk.

So, this is where I'm at....

My absolute first priority is to find a job that will allow me to stand on my own two feet. That's not happening fast enough, so I'm FORCED to keep what I have (waiting tables at a Nazi dinner camp). I'm making $2.50/hr there, and SOMETIMES I bring home $30 in tips. You do the math.

After that, I've got to figure out where I'm going to live: Pell City? Stay here in Birmingham? Pick up and move to San Francisco? For the record, I'm still leaning towards Frisco, but I'm also having the debacle of "will my family resent me for leaving?" I don't know, but I DO know that I have to be able to take care of myself, and me moving home to HELP take care of Grammy (I'm not doing it on my own, when there are others who are able to assist), and still not having work, whether it's in Bham or Pell, is going to do NO ONE any good.

After that, I've got to figure out what I'm going to do with my life. I have very little that's keeping me alive right now. I'm still hoping for a fiery car crash or something quick and semi-painless. I have a LOT for which I'm thankful...but that doesn't mean it's necessarily keeping me here. I know that's a horribly selfish thing to say, but I'm not exactly in a keen frame of mind at the moment, so you'll have to not judge me on this.

I told Bryan last night, that he's one of the few bright spots in my life right now. So much is changing, and a lot of it isn't incredibly positive. He's really been helping me deal, and I don't know if he knows how much he's been keeping me sane. While my pets are typing me down somewhat, I still wouldn't give them up. For that, you can judge me, but I assure you, I won't care. I don't have kids, so I'm that sicko who cares for her pets like kids.

Shit. Roomie Mark is in Clay, so I'm going to have to cut this blog short (not that it was making any sense at this point). He took my debit card, and I've got to have it, to go rent that fucking carpet cleaner, to clean the carpet at the apartment. Thank God the new place doesn't have any carpet...but then again, I don't know how long I'm going to last here...

More later.

Blog-less

2010-08-26T06:45:00.003-05:00

Need to blog.

Mark's getting his student loan check soon, so he's going to get my computer fixed. And, we'll be moving and getting all set up soon, so I'll be able to refocus all my energies into other things (this).

Blog, I miss you.

Time flies when you're crazy

2010-08-10T11:58:00.005-05:00

Yi, yi, yi.

I know. A month.

I've really been wanting to post, but I haven't been making the time. I haven't been making much time for things I feel I need to do lately.

Also, it doesn't help that I don't have the letter U on my keyboard. So, my keystroke to type a U is very deliberate, and it throws me off my rapid typing skillz.

My Grammy is in the hospital, and she gave us a real scare. I still don't have a job and can't get a hold of unemployment (there's that U, again), because they're trying to cut me off. And, I'm seeing someone. It's like someone has ripped the pages of my life out of my life book, stood on the side of a windy precipice and just tossed them over.

I'm going to update. And, I'm going to try to force myself to do it more frequently. Not even for people to read, but because it helps me.

If I don't, I'm going to have to at least buy one of those nice, white jackets, because insanity is RULING over here.

Blog, I shall return...

How to break a heart in 3 days

2010-06-20T05:46:00.009-05:00

Eventually, this will stop happening.

Eventually, I'll have to stop doing this to myself.

What - feeling? Stop...feeling? Stop...opening yourself up? Stop everyone ELSE from breaking your heart? Will I suddenly become a better judge of my life overnight? Will I magically stop making mistakes?

Naturally, that's not going to happen.

My breath of fresh air was snuffed out before it was even fully realized.

Wait. No. I take that back. I realized it. It was just laced in deception, as it usually is.

It didn't mean to be, though. It's just that whole "wrong place, wrong time/right place, wrong time/right thing, wrong universe" bullshit that gets me EVERY FUCKING TIME. There's not ONE FUCKING TIME IN THE LAST TEN MISERABLE FUCKING YEARS that this hasn't come out of the blue and struck me from the sky.

Greener? Where?

I don't know that I care anymore.

Trust me - it will happen, though.

"One last time, Jen. Just ONE LAST TIME. Put yourself out there. Put your heart on the line. This is IT, yo. THIS. IS. IT. This is the time that's going to put all those other times to some hardcore shame. This is going to be so beautiful, you're already wondering how you've lived without it."

Hey.

People?

Universe?

God?

Can we give me a break? Please? Can we possibly stop bending me over and fucking me? Can we just ASSUME for one brief moment that I, TOO, am a human being, with feelings and the like? Let's play the whole "would you want someone to do this to you?" game. I'm already well-aware of the fact that there is no ONE perfect human being for every ONE person on this earth.

(I already played that game and lost miserably. I had the perfect one, and I stomped that fucker's heart into the ground. Then, I had the next best thing, and I just threw that one to the wolves, without even flinching. Let's just pretend I REMEMBER ALL OF THAT, EVERY, SINGLE DAY, and that I've learned a few things from all of this...)

But, Jesus-God Almighty.......CAN I BORROW ONE??????? ONE OF THE FUCKING 6.8 BILLION PEOPLE IN THE KNOWN WORLD???? I'm not looking for adoration from thousands, or even hundreds...hey, not even tens! Just one. ONE. Is that too much to ask? Is it just not the right time? Can someone just TELL ME it's not the right time? Can we make this a little more obvious? You guys KNOW I'm not into reading signs and signals and all that bullshit. In fact, I HATE it. I need forthrightness and honesty. I need integrity and forgiveness. I need one goddamn person to be on the level with me...FOR FIVE FUCKING MINUTES.

And, I think it's BULLSHIT for people to have to "LEARN" to be okay on their own. I think it's OKAY for people to need other people. For the love of Christ, it's how God intended us to be. There's a reason we PAIR UP. There's a reason for all that loneliness and attraction and dating and hugs and looking forward to seeing one person above EVERYONE ELSE.

If I could just stop fucking it up, when I get it.

And, I was going to do it right this time.

I was going to do right by everyone.

But, deception is a whore, and she gets me every goddamn time.

The prospect of an ultimate love never fails to cloud my vision and blind me in shining hope.

I was blinded. You hurt me, TERRIBLY.

Yet, it's going to take me immense energies (that I don't have) and a very long time (that I don't want to give) to get past this, where you don't consume my every thought.

You.

A stranger.

The unnamed.

The runner on the trail.

For the first time in three days, I went a whole 24 hours without seeing him, and it physically hurt.

God, I've GOT to stop giving of myself freely. I HAVE to. It's chipping away at my already feeble psyche.

I guess I should start making people try harder.

That's it. I'm throwing down the gauntlet for a relationship. If you want to talk to me, you have to pass through the fiery pits of hell. Not because I have anything against you, per se. But, because I can't keep letting people take and take. I've only recently come back from being a shell of a human being. Let's not help perpetuate that. It's not healthy - for me, and I can assure you that it will cause me to make YOUR life a living hell, albeit inadvertently.

Tip for the n00bs, FROM the experienced:

DON'T talk to someone else, if you're already in a relationship, no matter how troubled it may be. No amount of justification will make it right - I CAN ASSURE YOU. Man the fuck up and deal with what needs to be dealt with. Don't be a Godzilla in someone else's life. PRETEND that you give a shit about anyone else's feelings aside from your own. Don't be a selfish bastard. Remember that they have people attached to them as well, who could get hurt in your wake.

It doesn't mean that I always make the right decisions - I don't, and I haven't. I'm STILL learning (although you'd think 32 years of fucking things up might give you a slight idea about what's going on - it doesn't).

I want so badly to be angry at him. But, I can't.

*sigh*

And, I won't.

It's no longer part of my nature.

I just wish I could have guided him to a safe place, possibly been a better example, since I've been where he is. But, it was me, putting myself out on the line, just that one last time.

And, for three glorious days, it was magnificent.

And, despite what I'm currently going through, I was happier than I'd been in a really long time.

Back to life, though, huh? Back into the dank, shit-filled pit of the world of being alone. Sorry I stayed gone for so long, Loneliness. I'm sure you missed me.

Wish I could say the same............................................................

Exercise IS good for something

2010-06-17T21:34:00.006-05:00

I met the most fascinating creature on Vulcan Trail yesterday.

It was a man.

And, he's incredible.

I hope to be able to tell you more about him, but I suppose time will tell, huh? &=)

For the record, first HOT guy who's ever semi-approached me (I was running, and he stopped me) and asked me out. (Let me reiterate and ENFORCE this: I did not FALL ONTO him, I didn't fall over the bridge on the trail and into the woods, and I didn't even have to feign a broken ankle to get him to stop and help me. HE stopped ME. *grins proudly*)

These things don't happen to me. Am I finally back in the favor of the universe? As much as I kid about God hating me, I don't actually think that He does. But, I do think my "planet" might be going through an asteroid field right now.

I'll tell you this: he has a secret job and the most incredible eyes.

*teehee*

Okay, enough of this girlish behavior. I have the ass of life to kick.

You might want to back up for this.

Eh, a sidenote, I quit Joe's. I just couldn't go back. I've never, in my life, just stopped going to a job. But, after last night...I just couldn't. I got OUT of an oppressive environment to get back into another one. That's a no-go. I will bend this world to function on my terms.

Sorry, world, but you're going to have to be a little nicer to me than that.

Love ya'll. Here's some huggies to get you through your individual rough days - God knows we all need them - and each other.
*HUGS*

As the cards bend and fold, the house will crumble

2010-06-14T13:51:00.006-05:00

Emily sent a note out, saying Ang had put in her 2 weeks (actually 3 weeks) notice at the warehouse. Turns out, Jerry is giving her 1 week and having her work only half days. This is so typical of him. Also, Bongo texted me and said she had gotten fired, because she had taken vacation and not told Jerry (but I'm pretty sure Ang, HER supervisor, knew). This is just his way of "cleaning house," and getting new people in there who have no clue what's going on, God love them.

On the upside, Ken sent this, and it's been very inspiring to read (over and over, again):

"This is indeed very good news. She will be very difficult to replace. I would say that this is the beginning of the end of , at least with Jerry Spencer at the helm. I hold the vision that a new organization will grow out of the ashes. We have the passion. We have the talent. We have the integrity. We have the vision. We have the customers. We have the farmers. We have all of the creative genius we need to accomplish anything we set out to create. We shall not fail.

The universe supports us in our commitment to right livelihood and making the planet a more sustainable and regenerative place to live. Let go and enjoy the process. Know that we are being supported on all levels and that this is our time. We are the change that we've been waiting for!

Mediocrity is not an option as we move into the new planetary paradigm and manifest the Garden of Eden. The kingdom of heaven within and without is unfolding before our eyes."

THIS is why I choose to keep going.

Just let me vent...

2010-06-14T02:45:00.000-05:00

I just need to type. I'm hoping this will turn into a relevant post of some sort, but then, I may end up dumping it, just like I've done with so many of them in the past.

Plus, I'm typing on Mark's computer, and I hate this tiny thing...well, mainly just for typing. It's like typing on a fucking Listerine breath strip. It's tiny and delicate, buuuuut I don't actually think it smells like that.

Anyway, I've been talking to this guy, Chad, and he's such a nice guy (get this - FROM HUNTSVILLE. Eh, you win some, you REALLY lose some). Sometimes I don't know how I should go about mentioning people from my life in my blog. But, only I really know who I'm talking about. There are times it matters, but there are times where it's so obscure and irrelevant, because it could only apply to one of two people in my life - and those are only meaningful to me.

Ha, I just realized that I was automatically typing for my blog. &=D Weirdy-o.

So, I've been thinking about my li'l CSA. And, I've been thinking about my writing. And, I've been thinking about my love of helping and loving. And I've been wondering where all this is leading. Semi-recently (days, maybe?),I've come into the moderate maturation that money (alliteration - hmmm) is never going to be okay in my life. As much as I strive and press to pay off my monetary debt to society, and it's societal dictators, it doesn't really mean anything. It's not going to make my friends or family love me any less (although, if I don't stop borrowing, I may not have any friends left - SORRY, GUYS!) It's not going to cause people to decide against attending my funeral: "Well, I'd go, buuuut she had REALLY bad credit." It's definitely not going to stop me at the gates of Heaven ("Credit check? Are you serious?"), although they may be SHOVING me through the gates of Hell.

My mom and I struggled with money my whole life. From the time I was "old enough" (I'm talking like 8), I would get paid for various things I'd do around the paper. She was already instilling in me that incredibly dedicated work ethic, with which I could insure my independence.

*Incidentally, and you might want to spot-clean those rose-colored glasses, while I mention this, but it feels so good to finally be able to type, when I'm stoned. I keep missing out on some of the incredibly instrospective shit, that helps me come to terms with different total CRAP in my life. This isn't like Jerry's fucking "I have led an amazing life" speech. (And, to my family member who ALWAYS gives me crap for this, YES, me use smart words AND me use dirty words. GET. OVER. IT.)

This is more along the lines of helping me cope with some of the really tough things I'm going through. Granted, Mark's beloved stepfather, Pawpaw, is hanging on to his last delicate, gossammar strand of life, as I type this; my friend Tommy's best friend's mom (ha - that strand of people made me laugh) has cancer and is currently fighting for her life; and my friends Tina's and Emily's dads just had their own personal battles to remain of this world. Makes this whole Jerry-fucking-Alabama-and-you-over thing seem kinda trite.

And, that's what makes me wonder why I should still follow through with this.

I think it's because I keep thinking of our 800+ customers, so many personal relationships I'd developed with so many wonderful people. I keep thinking of Jerry Marsh and Juan and Robert and Dulsey Hamlett and the cheese lady... I keep thinking about the employees who are STILL THERE, that I love dearly, who are still suffering at that "job." I keep thinking of sitting in Tina's office, all excited, breathlessly talking to her about finding some way to go out into local poor parts of the community and being able to lift those people up - OUR people. I think about Patty's idea to get everyone linked, and Ken's idea to be able to get everything from within fifty miles of your home; keeping all that money in our state, helping lift the people out of poverty, improving the lives and relationships of scores of people around the state and, possibly, the country. I even think of Ang's sweet face, how excited she always was, when she would do the weekly video.

I actually dream of doing better.

I'm being tossed around like a cliché plastic sack in an American Beauty wind. It makes me tired, thinking about what possibly lay ahead of me. I don't mind working, but THIS? This NIGHTMARE? I'd give anything for this part to be over and done with (nope, not settling, by the by, so don't bother offering). Di said it was vengeance, but it's not. I feel like people should know. If you're going to support a corrupt product or organization, then, by all means, go ahead. But, be COMPLETELY AWARE of what it is you're supporting. Be FULLY INFORMED about the product, or the person who runs it, or where your money's going. Even *I'M* not that informed, but after this, I'm definitely going to be more careful. It's hard for me to work at Joe's Crab Shack...not that they're corrupt. But, let's just say, coming out of the medical field and going into the service industry - YIKES. *runs to the bathroom to wash hands YET again*

Even in medicine, whenever I had a patient come in,who was either unhappy with us or another doctor, I ALWAYS encouraged them to seek a second opinion. I wish we'd done that with Mom. Not that she'd still be here, but at least maybe her illness and suffering wouldn't have been so traumatic and painful.

As a sidenote, like Chad said, when Jerry tells people he gave himself cancer by working too hard, it's TOTAL disrespect to the people who still HAVE cancer. I want to tell him, "No, YOU have cancer, because God knows you're a horrible person, and you deserve to die a shitty, suffering death."

Okay, no, that's probably not it (he's a chronic smoker). Not all bad people get cancer, and, obviously, not all people who get cancer are bad - but sometimes, it totally goes right, in the case of Jerry. Thankfully, I don't think he's ever gone into remission. Chide me for saying that, but there's only been one other person whose death I've celebrated. Let me vent. Doesn't make it right. Just means you're too sensitive to be ON MY BLOG READING THIS GOODBYE. I understand the differences between right and wrong, and you don't have to like the roundabout way I come to my conclusions. But, step the fuck off. I don't come up in your house or your Facebook and tell YOU what to do.

Plus, and I know some of you have noticed this, this whole Jerry thing has really caused me to lose respect in a LOT of people. Unfortunately, it's causing me to turn INTO those people. Thankfully, though, I think it's just temporary (God, I hope so - anger doesn't suit me). I'm over having people push me around. I'm done with other people telling me how it's going to be. I'm past the point of letting other people talk down to me, the way they feel is appropriate, when I highly disagree. I AM DONE WITH THIS PART OF MY LIFE. I may be slightly passive aggressive (I hate this quality in ANYONE), because I don't care for confrontation, but if there was a problem, yo', I'll solve it. Check out the hook, while my DJ revolves it.

&=P

Break it up, hey?

I like to fix problems, if I know there's one. This is why Joe's is driving me crazy. The second day I shadowed, one of the supers brought us in the back and totally REAMED us about talking shit about each other (which we weren't). I'd mentioned something about the fact that my trainer, who, incidentally, was some punk-ass high school kid - yay - was being really rude to me (which was highly unnecessary), and she totally ripped us all new ones, saying, "we don't talk shit about each other, and if you do, then you won't be working here." They TOTALLY talk shit about each other - ALL THE TIME. I know all of who hates everyone else and why, and he NEVER does his sidework, and ohmigod, she's such a bitch, and what kind of idiot does it take to be a hostess? JESUS. H. CHRIST. It started the DAY I came in the fill out paperwork.

There's a reason that I get along better with the Mexicans than I do anyone else - I CAN'T FUCKING UNDERSTAND WHAT THEY'RE SAYING. And, I'm sure I probably don't want to know. Plus, they're a whole lot nicer. And, there's always that possibility that it's because I'm a chick, but AT LEAST THEY'RE NICE.

God. SEE??? This is what I'm always getting at - ALWAYS. With me, you'll get SOOOOOOOOO much farther with being nice. Being a dick gets you nothing. NOTHING!!!!!!!!!!!! And, being a bitch for an extended period of time will more than likely get you a swift kick in the pussy. We've ALL seen that happen.

*groan*

I'm tired. My writings these days are nothing more than inane stream-of-consciousness ramblings of a very tired and very full mind. There's no subject and really no point. Just getting it out. Just recording it for later, since I have this NEED to save things. (God, of all the things to change on me, take away my desperate need to save the past!)

I'm going to lay down. Chad and I have been texting, and I haven't gotten a text back in a few minutes, so I'm assuming he's wound himself deep in his new, furry blanket from Marshall's and fallen into a deep, comfortable, well-earned slumber.

I hope to soon follow suit.

Only problem with smoking, though - it makes me think WAY TOO HARD about cookies (don't judge me).

I love you, cookies (I said, don't judge me).

And, I love you, people. &=)

So much to be done, but for now, I rest.

Love through text

2010-06-09T11:50:00.014-05:00

*Hey, the formatting and pics are all botched, but I'm posting the text anyway. I'll have to fix everything later. Please return at a later time for a more pleasurable reading experience.*

It's always been rather hard to communicate effectively through text.

Every once in a while, though, I get something where I can actually feel the feelings pouring through the phone.

Last night, Cory tried to call me, to talk, after he found out what happened, and I pressed ignore and texted, "I can't talk to you right now, because if I open my mouth, I'm going to start crying. Sorry." He immediately texted back with, "ohhhhh, I LOVE YOU!," then again with, "It's okay. Just know I love you."

Saved those.

When I was getting ready to start my job at Joe's, my aunt, Amy, texted me and said, "Just telling you good luck about the new job...I want you to get on your feet a little and then find something you really want to do - not these kind of jobs you get just to get by. But, I totally understand - I'm just proud of you for pushing through and making SOMETHING happen instead of someone else doing everything for you and you know who the people are I'm talking about!!!" I was bawling when I read that, and I texted her back and told her how I still feel like a scared little girl, without her mama. She came back with, "Mama or not, you're a grown woman who has a mind and a heart and you're making decisions that keep you going and keep you real! Not in that fantasy world of someone else taking care of you because you're down and out! You will turn it all around and with your writing ability, you'll probably write a book soon!!!"

That last part made me laugh. &=) But, yes, I saved all of those.

I still have one saved from her, from October 17, 09, that I look at all the time, that simply says (txt jargon and all), "Luv u 2- ttys! :-X"

I don't know what pulls me to one person or another. The ability to relate? The magnetism of their realness? I haven't a clue.

I've been dealing with lots of issues, which all seem to have been heaped up on my head recently: the attack, the job stuff, things going on within my blessed family, things with friends, past and present, several breakups, and a LOT of letting go of the past. Strangely enough, the past seems to stay wrapped around my ankles, like a lover pleading for you to stay...just a little longer.

It just so happens that I have an incredible group of friends, as well as the most awesome family on earth. Every individual person I know has had some kind of impact on me. It's usually positive, but if it ever turns negative, unfortunately, that's something I don't think I'm able to deal with at this point, so I have to turn them away. I hate doing that, but I'm pretty sure we're all in agreement here when I say that everyone doesn't get along with everyone.

Hell, we weren't meant to. It would be nice and be MY personal fantasy, to heal the world with militant, renegade huggies. But, as loving as I am (or have the ability to be, when I'm not mentally stretched like a rubber band), I'm also a realist.

Life is a bitch.

At this point, with all the uncertainty that lies out there, with all the problems we're all encountering, I think the best thing we can do at this point is just hold on to each other for dear life. If you find someone who brings you down too much or doesn't seem to fit you, let them go. Please. For their sake, and for your sanity. They'll find someone. We all do.

But, the people you DO have, remember who they are, and actually sit and figure out why that person is so special to you. THOSE are the people you cling to. I may be independent on my own, but I'm completely and proudly codependent with the people I love. MY love and devotion isn't anything to brag about. But, I consider myself to be a very picky and discerning person, when it comes to relationships that I want to pursue. I never just walk up to someone (like Cory), and basically demand for them to be my friend. Even Heather and I had to be introduced, go out on a date, act coy and flirt like little girls...and when I ended up in rehab, and she showed up, with a card and hugs in tow, I knew she was meant to be my best friend.

A lot of the people I know have social problems or vexations (me, obviously). Something I've come to understand and hold on to like a life raft is, you have to make your feelings known. If you love someone, tell them. If they take it the wrong way, they're the weirdo. &=P If you feel like hugging someone, do it, sexual harassment be damned (although, this should not be attempted on strangers or new friends who haven't been properly felt out). &=) But, obviously, if these are the people who know and love you, so of course, those things won't be problems. Tear down walls. Stop putting up walls. Surround yourself with people whom you love and want to emulate. BE who you want to be - not who someone expects you to be. Love people, and let them love you. Just choose wisely for yourself. If something doesn't work out, it wasn't meant to. Don't stress about it. But, always remember, as fucked up as other people are, there's always room for improvement within your own life. Just fill your life full of people who are willing to accept you just as you are, even while knowing you're constantly changing. We all are.

We just have to learn to accept it and each other. Together, we can make it through anything. It's tough, and there are still days that I can't stand to have anyone touch me. But, overall, I need my people. And, it makes me feel amazing to know that they need me. Makes me feel good to don my superhero-friend cape every now and again.

I think I need to reread my texts again. I need some psychological huggies like a madman.

Has this ever happened to you?

2010-06-08T22:40:00.006-05:00

When I start writing now, I never know how to start.

So, let's just start with what just happened.

First night at Joe's, I was a shadow, it was pretty boring and not busy. It was a little easier than I think I was ready for - they're not nearly as uptight as Landry's. No matter, it went pretty well. Or as well as could be expected.

So, 9p, I leave. A cop blows in behind me, almost rear-ending me and turns his lights on. I'm totally all "what the fuck?," because for once, I'm not driving like a crazy person or a bat out of hell. I pull over, and he informs me that my tag is expired. So, INSTEAD of writing me a warning, he brings me a ticket. Just like that. No warning. No nothing. Just for the record, I STILL have a ticket out there, for coasting through a stop sign a few weeks ago.

Let me just reiterate...MY EX-BOSS can fuck me up at work...and get NOTHING. But, thank God they've got the cops keeping their eyes on me, THE REAL FUCKING CRIMINAL. Because I might hurt someone with an expired tag. One time I killed a man with an expired tag.

Okay, that's a lie - I didn't. But, I still might.

I just think it's SUPER-AWESOME that Jerry fucking Hamilton Spencer can attack not only an employee, but a WOMAN (I hate playing the gender card, by the way), and that fucker gets NOTHING. But, I go out for ice in the middle of the freaking night, pause at a stop sign (mind you - I didn't run it), and I get 30 to life.

I can't figure out if it's this town that's fucked up, the cops, the legal system, me, my life, or if God just overall hates me.

I'm not sure how much longer I'm going to last, to be honest. I'm hovering between screaming and crying, laughing, and just tearing up my good sheets for a noose.

It just doesn't seem worth it, you know? It really, really doesn't. You have these brief flashes of awesome, here and there, but then someone comes in and pours this giant dumpster of shit, vomit and diarrhea on you, when you're at your peak. Or even when it feels like things are just starting to turn around.

It's really wearing me out. I'm already having to pull out the only tiny bit of retirement I have, so that we can live off that, until I start getting paid at Joe's. I STILL haven't gotten my tax return back (long story). And, I'm short about $50, before my rent check makes it through the bank and bounces like a rubber ball.

THIS. LIFE. SUCKS.

Does your life suck, too? I'm sure it does. I'm not sure to what extent. I know everyone's pretty much going through the same bullshit - the situations just aren't always exactly the same.

*As a sidenote, I meant to post this last night, but I got stoned and stopped caring. Because I needed to stop caring. I needed to stop crying, before my face fell off. So, here it is.

What the hell do you want from me?

2010-06-07T06:12:00.006-05:00

Seriously.

If there's something crucial I'm missing, please don't hesitate to let me know.

Otherwise, I think it might be prudent for some of you (YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE) to just cut your losses (trust me - I'm no one worth losing sleep over) and move on.

Being abused is not something I take lightly (okay, not anymore). And, I can tell you, it's happened to me far more in the past ten years than...well, more than anyone should have to put up with. Mental, emotional, physical...if you think you're that important that you feel it necessary to put your hands on someone else, then I encourage you to IMMEDIATELY seek help. I can also assure you that you will NEVER be that important. No matter how much it stokes the fiery embers of your ego or helps you cum, when you're laying in bed, thinking about how you dominated another human being - THAT IS NOT NORMAL. It's also not a good thing. It pretty much means you're a sick human being and really shouldn't be functioning within the realms of an active and productive society.

This has been an important announcement by "if you ever fucking put your God-damn dirty hands on me or someone I care about again, or scream at me like that, laws be damned, I'll kill you myself."

And, if you know of someone who is currently being abused, please send them my way. There is ALWAYS a way out. *I* may not have any rights as a victim in a professional setting, but I'll see to it that no one else ever has to go through something like this.

If you think you have the right to demean or invalidate anyone else, then just remember that you also reserve the right for someone to beat the shit out of you.

1.800.799.SAFE (7233)

A bipolar bear walks into a bar...

2010-06-05T06:06:00.009-05:00

Hahahaha, there's nothing that hasn't happened in the last two weeks, that hasn't made me just totally go "WHAT the eff is going on?" NOTHING.

I was just awoken with the lovely, lotiony sound of my ex jerking off in the bed next to me. Because THAT isn't gross at all. You'd think people could maintain themselves, until they move out, or at the very least, take it in the bathroom. *sigh*

So, I just went in there to check on Jack and saw he has a giant, infected thing on his foot. I wasn't quite ready monetarily to take them to the vet, yet, but I guess we don't have a choice. *double sigh*

I start my new job on Monday, dancing my way into peoples' hearts, at Joe's Crab Shack on 280. I just realized, though, that I completely forgot to tell them about derby practice on Monday nights. I WILL follow through with this derby thing. Or at least, I'd like to. It seems fun and moderately therapeutic, since they frown on you killing the people who actually deserve killing. Guess this is the next best thing.

And, I got a PHONE CALL, from a person who's looking to bury the past (what he means is all the drama and bullshit he put me through), because he just got engaged (to the psycho who STARTED all the drama), and they want to be friends (eat me) and he's got this guy that he wants to introduce me to, so we can all double date (?). Okay, that last part just kills me. I'm not even going to go into the shit-storm that came from this, because it's not even that interesting. It's just annoying. And, I don't even know why this ass-hat still has my number.

IF YOU STILL HAVE MY NUMBER, AND WE DON'T LIKE EACH OTHER, OR WE HAVE COME TO A PARTING OF THE WAYS, PLEASE DELETE MY NUMBER FROM YOUR PHONE AND MY EXISTENCE FROM YOUR MEMORY.

Let's just keep it simple. I'm done with bullshit. Yours, mine, everyones. Two weeks ago, I was physically attacked, assaulted and pinned down at work, BY MY BOSS, and had we been alone, I have no doubt in my mind he would have attempted to rape me. Not that I'm all that, but he's just THAT SICK. Plus, I've been this guy's personal fucking spin doctor, for his disgusting, corrupt company for the past few months. Now, I carry around a baseball bat, knife, whatever I can wield as a weapon, because I've just had it. I guess you could say I'm just totally over everything. I have my family (the members who accept me as I am) and my group of friends (ditto), with whom I'm comfortable. I'm getting a new job. I'm PAST moving on and have already MOVED ON. I've been so abused in the past couple of years, it's pretty ridiculous. And, I'm not putting up with it anymore. I don't give a SHIT what you think about me. Not a bit. NOT ONE. I've made my peace with everyone who deserved an apology or peace-making. And, I'm totally over the rest of it.

Strangely enough, I've put myself back on the internet dating circuit (circus?). This is my opener:

"Um, I used to internet date a long time ago. I got out of it because I thought I needed to go about the 'normal' way of meeting people, but then I realized it didn't matter - they're ALL weird, no matter where you meet 'em; the neighbors, AA, the zoo, prison..."

It's definitely going to be different this time around. I was disgusted when I got on there and realized what a meat-market it is. But, realistically speaking, I'm never going to start going to church, so I won't be joining any singles groups. It's just not me. I commune with God in my own way. I read scripture, I study lessons, but guess what? I'm judgmental, and I also smoke pot and drink. And, to be honest, I'm tired of hiding who I am from people. I can only be THIS way around THESE people, but around THESE people, I have to be THIS person. I suck at meeting new people. I'm the weirdo that stands in the corner, studying peoples' interactions. I tried to make eyes at this guy at the bar the other night, and it was like watching a plane fly into a crowd of people. *facepalm*

I'M DONE.

If you don't like me, then PLEASE don't bug my shit about it. PLEASE don't grace me with your presence, because SOMEHOW, I'LL BE OKAY WITHOUT YOU. Don't let me get my evil or drama on you, IN ANY WAY. I've never wanted to be a burden to ANYONE. And, I'm an adult now, so I feel as though I'm pretty good at making decisions for myself. I mean, I've kept myself (and three pets) alive for this long. My friends and (most of) my family love me. I make people laugh, and I LIVE to help people...so how badly can I really be doing????

I'm not looking for anything right now, just a way to support myself. I'm moving on from the last job (not without severe repercussions, though, of which I probably shouldn't discuss just yet...sorry. Our legal system is bullshit. How little rights a victim has, I never realized, until I actually stood up for myself, ONCE, and claimed "hey, I'm a victim." Shit. Don't get me started...). I'm happier with myself (okay, except physically) than I've been in a long time. And, the last thing I need is some fucker from my past popping up and trying to start shit. GO FUCKING BUG SOMEONE ELSE. SOMEONE in this world needs your drama, but it ain't me, I can assure you. Jesus H, I've got enough drama of my own.

Not all of it is bad drama, though. It just seems to be regular mishaps, one right after the other. Emily and I got stuck on 280, in rush-hour traffic, with a flat tire and no one would help us (except for Pete! Thank you, Pete!). Cory and I can't do ANYTHING without always ending up in some compromising situation, with angry lesbians or bad karaoke or something that requires a lot of fucking WORK. I don't get to see my Heather anymore, because she's so busy with her kids, and I MISS HER!!!!! &=( Mark and I broke up, and for once, I'm totally kosher with a break-up. We're still going to be friends, and no one is running from a burning building, screaming and crying. I can't believe I've actually maintained a friendship out of this one. Way to not fuck it up, Jen! *high fives for everyone*

We have, since, established ZKC, though, and that's been a lot of fun. Tabatha is an honorary member, even though she's living in Egypt or New Mexico or somewhere equally as far. We have our get-togethers, and they're awesome. Me, Cory, Kerry, Kristin, Heather, Mark, Joseph, AJ...Emily and Laura have since been inducted, and I'm hoping Layne will be our newest member. It's just time to get together and not have to fucking pretend. We sit around and laugh and smoke and drink (or not), sometimes we eat, sometimes we play some retarded board game, listen to music, talk about our problems, make each other laugh, we'll go to parties together and come away with some pretty harrowing tales of kicking bitches in the crotch, forgetting keys at the scene of a crime, getting roofied at the Blue Monkey and throwing up in the bathroom, getting blamed for breaking hookahs, people pissing in the middle of the road (no, not me)...and those are just highlights. We're usually fairly low-key, and it's nice. It may seem like drama (I never know what peoples' various definitions of drama are), but we're always laughing and having fun. I've never come away from hanging out with these mother-fuckers and been like, "shit, I need to get better friends." There are times, though, when we'll all go somewhere, then we leave, thinking, "shit, we need to find better friends."

Anyway, these guys are my main support, aside from my family, and I love them, dearly. They MAKE my life not shitty. I try very hard to return the favor.

There are a lot of changes happening in my life. I have no idea where I'm going, and for once, I don't care that I have no control over whatever happens. I've been such a control-freak over the past few years, and I just can't handle it anymore. I know that I'm going to be around until God feels it necessary to erase my mark. Until then, I'm going to do what I have to, to survive and not get my weirdness on other people. I'm still HOPING for the perfect relationship (eventually). I'd still like to have kids (or kid). I'm still hung up on things and people I shouldn't be. But, I'm a fucking realist. There are things in your life that affect you, for better or for worse, and all you can do is attempt to compartmentalize that "issue" until you're alone and you can deal with it. Sometimes that shit just DOESN'T GO AWAY. I still have horrid bouts of sorrow and regret, and, unfortunately, sometimes my friends are around for those episodes. They're so kind and loving, and sometimes all they can do is walk me through the fire. I prefer to have those moments to myself, though. Because my life is different now. I don't know a lot of the same people (thank God), and it's too hard to try to recount the various tales that make up my life, to all these new people. So, I bathe in my sorrow, wash myself clean with my tears, say some prayers, pull myself back together and move on. I'll never deny the things that have happened in my life. I just can't let them rule me. There are so many horrible things I've done, that I can never take back. I just have to pray that it's all leading me somewhere...somewhere GOOD, hopefully. But who knows?

If my suffering and desperation can help others, in whatever way that could ever be, THAT would be awesome. I'm more open with Amy's girls than I am with a lot of people. I don't mind telling them about the things I've been through, and though I always tell them that I know they're going to have to make their own mistakes, if they can learn from any of mine, it's pro-bono, and I'll offer myself up for the slaughter anytime.

I love to be able to alleviate the suffering of others. Trust me - if someone could try out for Jesus Part 2, I'm down. I hate to see people suffer. And, it's totally sucked that I've been the cause of others' sufferings. But, not anymore. I'll never put someone out again, just because of me being me. I no longer rely ON people. I prefer that they choose to have me around. And, if something happens because of it, just remember that really long waiver, with all that really tiny writing that you signed, when you asked to be my friend. Remember? At the top, it had the two check boxes - "Do you want to be friends? Yes or No. Choose wisely."

Being friends with me comes with peril. But, 95% of the time, it's kinda fun peril. Fighting for free wifi at Starbucks; spilling coffee in sleeves; picking strawberries at a Harvest Farm in the middle of nowhere, only to find out that you were SUPPOSED to meet these people; getting stoned in a parking lot after work; having a flat tire on 280 in the middle of rush hour; kicking this bitch in the crotch for talking shit about my friends (oh, she deserved it - trust me); going to derby matches; toilet pipes; sitting around outside, listening to crazy music, eating vegetarian calzones, while the kids yell for you to watch them swing and climb trees; sharing my hair falls with my best friend's daughter; holding my cousin's new baby; hugging my grandmother; getting hugs and kisses from my aunt's kids; working a booth at Do Dah Day, with Jack tied around my waist, only to have him see another puppy he wants to play with, and yank me to the ground, chair and all; four people crammed in my bed, falling asleep to the newest season of Venture Brothers; Mimosa Fridays; getting escorted out of the hospital, by a cop on a Segway; volunteering for Brewfest; joining a friend's organization, because what's important to him, is important to me; attending my first baseball game (and liking it - GASP!) with an old friend; and of course, trying to leave work, after being fired by a psycho, and having him take me down like a linebacker.

That's kind of a summary of the last couple of months of my life, and to be perfectly honest, it's been rather awesome (except the bipolar, schizophrenic, skeezy, hog-tie porn-addicted boss with the Jesus-complex part - THAT, I could have done without). I'm very happy. I wish I had an S.O. to share it with, but I assume that will come in time...or not. And, if it doesn't, I'll just keep being gloriously lonely and living alone. I don't know that anyone out there fits me....or if I fit anyone out there. And, if I'm destined to be alone, then I am. I'll NEVER force someone to do something they don't want to do. I'll never again attempt to change someone who doesn't desire change. I'm just me. And, I'm okay with me. It's been a long time since I've felt this way, and I'd kinda like to keep it.

I am a bit nervous, though, because I have had offers to move. My aunt Sabrina really wants me to come up to Seattle, and I talked to my aunt Amy and my grandmother, and they're of the same mind - if that's something that's going to give me a fresh start and help me grow, then I should do it. I just hate that everyone I love can't come with me. Plus, I'm not big on doing things alone. I'm not really super at making friends (Cory was my one exception, for whatever reason). I don't have the necessary social skills or proper level of self-esteem to just walk into a room with a commanding presence. Uh, no, thanks. So, we'll see what comes from that. I may just wake up one day and say to hell with it all and pack up and leave. I'm getting a little bit better at letting go of "stuff" and "things." I have this sticker, which I'm sure I've mentioned before, that says, "Let go. Attachment is suffering." And, I'm trying to let go. Of so much. But life is hard. It's never been NOT hard. It just helps to have people who actually give a shit. We're so busy and everything's so crazy these days, that it's hard to care about anything but yourself. But, you have to make time.

*groan*

I've been meaning to post. And, this is why I should post more frequently. I have so much on my mind, AT ALL TIMES, and sometimes I need it to come out. This is what helps. This is my therapy - okay, well, that and weed. They're both cheap as free. But, Dave finally got my laptop up and running again, so I have to be careful of overuse. My other computer is kinda on the fritz, so I have to work on it. Aaaand, I'm leeching off someone's internet connection, which I can only do, when the wind is blowing in the right direction.

I'm making it. And, I'm okay. Except for my extreme dissatisfaction in my personal physique, I'm good. I'm, dare I say, happy? Yeah, I'm happy. &=) And, I have no intent to change for anyone or anything. I'm not oppressed by my job as an x-ray tech anymore. I choose to surround myself with good, honest, forthright people. And, all of this has changed me for the better. Don't mistake me - it's been a hell of a fight to get here. But, I am exactly who I want to be (maybe 20 lbs heavier). There will always be times in my life that I wish I could redo. But, for right now, I'm happy. And, I'm happy to BE happy.

And, now, I'm revelling in the fact that I get to go back to bed for a few hours. Later, I'll wake up, take the Mack to the vet, go volunteer for Brewfest, touch base with everyone for the evening, maybe play some Escape from Monkey Island or watch some Venture Brothers, go to sleep (my fav), then wake up Sunday and see what things I can get accomplished. And, if I get nothing done, then I get nothing done.

I'm happy.

And, if you're one of 'em (you know if you are, or if you really shouldn't be here), thanks for being my friend and contributing to my happy. If I didn't have you (and you all know who you are, and how freaking special you are to me!), I have no idea where I'd be in my life. So, thank you. Thanks for being my friend. Things have been really crazy, but I'm thankful to have you all in my life. You each have a portion of my heart, that will always be yours.

I has a lot of happy. &=)

JOB - the abridged version

2010-06-01T10:58:00.004-05:00

This is a perfect, brief explanation of what's going on. I should probably just keep blogger open, so that I can keep adding to it. Because there's no end to THIS life:

Yeah, although I'm probably just going to be blindly floating through the whole thing. I'm not all here right now. I just spent the last few minutes, squalling my face off in the apartment office, regaling my harrowing tale of "JOB." And, all the fuck I want to do is have a job and WORK THERE and make money and pay bills and not have my life fall into some shit-filled vortex, causing all this despondency to kick up and make me wonder what the fuck I'm even doing on this earth, except for life to regularly dick me over. Sorry - I'm having a really bad day right now, and I can't even find my freaking printer cable, so I can print the papers to apply for food stamps. Right now, I REALLY hate my life. And the more I move, the more money I spend, and I can't understand why that is...

Burrr...your posts are too long and leave me cold and feelingless.

2010-05-25T02:31:00.001-05:00

I'm a HORRIBLE liar.

More to follow this.

Well, eventually...

I gotta start hanging out more here...

2010-05-14T22:26:00.002-05:00

...and less on Facebook.

I always have all this stuff that I want to write, but I end up forgetting it, when I get here.

And, I really wish I've been documenting everything we've been going through at the warehouse. It's pretty ridiculous. The last two days haven't been so bad, since he hasn't been hanging around. But, every time he COMES around, it just gets out of hand. He treats us like complete and total retards. You can be ON THE PHONE with a customer, answering a question, and he comes in and starts talking over you, telling you how what you're saying is wrong and how to answer the question (even though he doesn't even know what the question is), and it's totally maddening. And, you can't even EXPLAIN it to someone, unless they freaking work there. When people ask me about work, and I just get this horrified look on my face, and they want to know why, I just can't tell them.

Ugh, enough about work. I'm just stopping by, to make myself uphold my promise to write more. Um, I'm just not gonna do it now. I got cookies in the fridge that are calling to be baked. I bathed Jack earlier, cleaned out his crate and managed to get my Dyson taken apart and cleaned. I swear, there's something so fun to me about vacuum cleaners. I think I need to get my head checked. I don't actually like to USE it, but I do enjoy disassembling and reassembling it. Oh well. At least it's something at which I can be proficient when they put me away..."all she does is take the vacuum cleaner apart and put it back together. She's REALLY certifiable."

No more going on with TCR. Right now, I'm just doing Monday practices, which is fine. I want to bump it up, but as long as I'm still feeling rotten, I'm not going to overly FORCE myself to do anything. I don't know why I'm taking in all caps. I do that a lot. Well, I type exactly how I speak, so those are my points of emphasis. Way to point that out, Einstein. *rolls eyes* But, my neck and left shoulder are so screwed up, it's all I can do to make it through a day. It's really becoming a terrible, almost unbearable problem. The spasms don't stop anymore, and laying down doesn't help. God, I wish I had some freaking money or insurance or both.

Hey, if you win the lotto, you wanna throw a girl a bone and help me out? That would be awesome. I need about $3k to get completely out of debt. And, I don't mind doing things for myself - never have. It's just that I feel like I'm digging in a hole that someone is standing over, throwing the dirt back in. I don't know that I'm ever going to get anywhere. It's horrible when you go to Best Buy and make a DVD purchase, then spend weeks with buyers' remorse. It really sucks. I've turned into a mega-Scrooge. And, what do I have to show for my no money? Well, a boss that I hate, for one, and nothing else, for two.

Yay. This life is AWESOME. &=\

Blah, blah, blah - you know I can go on...AND I DO. (There - more emphasis.) But, me and Jack have Do Dah Day tomorrow, and I've been looking forward to this, since I adopted him last year. We couldn't go last year, because he was in training. This year, he's not in training (since I'm broke), and he's still going to be a complete psycho. Oh well. I know he's going to have a really good time, and that's important to me. Plus, I think Amy and the kids are going to bring Ray, so that will be fun. I promised Joseph I'd help him a little with the GA table, but I'm not going to kill myself. When we turn this into OUR company, I'll be a lot more willing to help out. Until then, I'm not turning myself inside out to do ANYTHING for that asshole (the boss, not Joseph).

Sleep well, my dearest friends. Hope to be with you again, soon.

Unsuccessful?

2010-05-13T00:19:00.002-05:00

It's been absolute madness around the office as of late. Ever since we turned in our "shit list," he's taken everything that we've complained about and made it at least 10 times worse. Vickie walked out today and quit, but not before calling him "a psycho and a sexual harasser," but I can assure you, he deserved it. She's pretty uptight, herself, but we all know he's crazy. In fact, I wouldn't even wager a guess on the number of people who know he's crazy, because I'm sure I would guess WAY under.

Just burning bridges all along the way.

We've dubbed Joseph as Mr. Christian, from Mutiny on the Bounty. And, am I ever ready. I've never wanted to see someone suffer so badly...well, not at least since I worked at Children's. It frustrates the hell out of me that he can take something so fucking great and turn it into something so tremendously awful. If Joseph can just find us the funding, we have all the people we have to run a stable and completely morally upstanding company. I'm really excited, if we can make it work. If not, I have other options. I'm going to try to hang around as long as I possibly can, but for me to only have been there for a month or so, and I've already acquired a bleeding ulcer, it ain't lookin' so hot.

&=\

He doesn't deserve to win, though. He deserves NOTHING, except the same horrific suffering he's put us all through. He's a fucking ridiculous human being. I've definitely never met anyone like him and never hope to again. He begs us to tell us what things are wrong within the company, but when we do, it's always either the backlash or his sudden psychotic mood change that's nearly unbearable.

I could go on and on and on about this asshole. There's NOTHING good about him, except that he's old enough to almost be dead. Jesus Christ, I hate saying that about someone, but he's a terrible person.

As for socially, I've had to tone it down some. Not partying as much, mainly because I can't afford it, but also because I can't handle it mentally. I'm a homebody. I love partying with my ZKC, but work's really stressed me out to the point that I can't enjoy anything else. And, money has me stressed beyond belief. It gets really fucking old. I wish someone would pay my bills up to this minute and just let me start the fuck over. OF COURSE, I leave tonight, to run to the gas station, to get a cup of gas station ice (I was craving it), and I get pulled over for rolling through a stop sign - most expensive ice I've ever bought. &=\ I really hate cops.

So, yes. Smoking and drinking was my life for the last couple of months. I've toned it down, and since I got tapped for roller derby, I've been trying to eat better and do better. It's hard, though. I miss my sugar, that's for sure.

And, love-wise...well, that's another post. &=P

Anyway, I'm wide-fucking-awake and watching Futurama with Mark. I just want to SLEEEEEEP...and I want my shoulder and neck to stop hurting. Other than that, I'm stressed at hell, but still loving my job and the people I work with. I just hate my boss.

*groan*

At this point, I can only keep pushing. I keep having that thing where I'm not sure I'm making the right decisions for my life. Yes, I went for love over money, but it's not working out, AND I'm barely making ends meet.

I also can't find anyone with whom I'm happy, but I really think that's just because I haven't found the right person. I've had it twice, and I threw it away both times. Other than that, I just kinda want to be by myself. I want to be okay with me. I just want to hang out with my friends when I want to. And, I want to get my freaking apartment cleaned up. And, my bills paid. Yeah, I have a lot of demands. I don't know that I'll ever be happy. It's always very fleeting.

What am I doing? I don't know. I've definitely lost my penchant for writing. This whole thing sounds totally stupid. I'm becoming stupid. I need to get back into better habits, but I don't know how. Anyone know any successful hypnotists? I'm ready to send my life into a moderately happy direction. Success, I've come to the realization, is based on individual belief. I don't think I'm quite there, yet. I guess that's why my most prominent chakra is my sacral chakra. I'm so far away from the crown, it's ridiculous. &=P

Okay, just chatting. Dave fixed my computer, so I have it back...temporarily. It keeps overheating, but at least I have a computer. I can't pay my internet bill (or any of my other bills), so I can only get on internet, when I can pick up a stray connection. Success for me would definitely be me paying my fucking bills - that would totally help.

Time for bed...or ice cream...or serenity. We'll see which one motivates me the most.

God, this is sucky. I really should be doing something...........

Let me out here, please

2010-04-30T18:45:00.002-05:00

Haven't posted in a while. Nothing new.

New stress, though. New job. New guy. New friendships. New things here and there.

Computer's dead, so I have to get a new one. That's not (EVER) going to happen on my salary, though.

Not really sure what I'm doing with my life, at this point. I'm not even sure of what I WANT to do. I was ready to throw myself into this new job - liking it, even.

After today, it's just another fucking job, with another fucking asshole of a boss. How anyone can be that totally blind and oblivious to how you treat others and make them feel escapes me entirely. ENTIRELY. On no level do I connect with this guy. He thinks we do, but he thinks that about everyone. Actually, he WANTS to think that. He WANTS people to like him and trust him...but they don't. There's a reason we've had a turnover of almost 25 people in less than five months. And, he's it.

I'd like to be entirely retroactive and tell you everything that's been going on, but I have a feeling that will come in time. Right now, I'm drinking too much, smoking too much, abusing myself too much, stressing too much, and it doesn't look like there's ANYTHING good on the horizon. At one point, everything was GREAT. Now, it's back to shit.

I'm sorry - I just can't believe we, the employees, are actually fighting King Asshole, the creator, to push this business to work. It's like he's intentionally sabotaging himself. But, he wants it this way. All he cares about is being A MAN, being misogynistic and being a God-damn control freak. I thought my last boss was bad, but he actually had rules in which he had to contain his misogyny. This time, it IS this guy's business, so he has lots of pull this time around.

We have one more "ace in the hole," and if this doesn't work, I'm out of there.
FUCK. THAT. NOISE.

Have to run. I'll update more soon, if not this evening.

Miss you guys. &=(

They have a card for everything.

2010-02-10T15:54:00.007-06:00

Lola.

I saw this on my AnnaB's Tumbler, and I totally stole it. (I love you, my AnnaB!)

You all know how MUCH I hate some drunk bitches. I say it EVERY TIME there's a drunk bitch within a 50-mile radius: "I hate drunk bitches."

Well, now there's a card:

I should probably just print a bunch of these out and start handing them out like business cards.

Not to say that I won't get a few myself. But, I just can't stand a person who doesn't have a drunk-wrangler. I ALWAYS have one.

It's the person (or persons) who wipes you off when you've fallen in an ant bed (Heather) or holds on to your purple panties as you're barfing out the car window, while riding down the interstate (Kristin).

I've had a LOT of not-so-proud moments, and sometimes I don't always FEEL like acting like an adult. But, those really horrific days are so far behind me...and for once, I'm okay with being a grown-up.

Please, people. Control your drunk bitches.

To the one who has my heart:

2010-02-09T23:46:00.003-06:00

I miss you, and I love you.

I really want to tell you that.

I just wish you believed me.

I forgot how to stop loving...

2010-02-08T11:57:00.003-06:00

Love, love, love, love him.

Don't know how long it's going to take me to work myself free from THIS shadow.

It really is a pain, when things don't work out between you and someone else, but your heart just refuses to accept the message. With Aaron, my heart stayed in denial for years. How long is it going to be this time?

If he just wants to see how far I'll go to prove myself, I'm all over that. But, you can usually tell when that's no longer cute and just becomes annoying. I wish it was the former, but I'm sure it's the latter, which is why I'm afraid to even try.

I understand that people just stop feeling things for other people sometimes. I don't know WHY it happens, but I know it's happened to me.

My problem is, I love this mother-fucker SO MUCH, that I feel like I'm frozen in my tracks. It's like everything can fall down all around me, but I can't afford to put my attention on anyone but him. I think I'm not even able to converse normally with others, because he's always at the forefront of my mind. At least *I* don't feel as though I'm acting socially normal. I feel like I'm constantly dwelling in a haze of him - which, no matter how it sounds, it's actually quite pleasant. It's been nice to reminisce back on times when things were good. I don't think they were ever properly healthy, but I do remember them being good.

And, he's worried because he said we DID try. Well, HE tried anyway. I was just kind of along for the ride, at the time. And, for whatever reason, I felt like he was a hindrance in my walk with God...and that was never the case (see lyrics to "She Left Me for Jesus" by Hayes Carll). I hate that I even felt like that was an acceptable reason to bail on him. I was afraid of the same shit that I'm always afraid of - I'm afraid of being the one who gets left. And, I have to get over that.

That's going to be HUGE for me, to finally clear that hurdle.

I'm okay, right now, being alone. I'm just bored, and I'm straight with being bored. I have people with whom I can safely hang out, not just a bunch of chodes who are going to try to take advantage of me. I like that. I'm okay where I am.

I'd just like to have him back in my life. Because I remember what it was like to be happy with him. Yes, when I was going through the divorce, I felt incredibly guilty about the happiness I was experiencing, like I was still cheating on Aaron. But, I'm finally OVER that! I can have my own happiness and make my own memories, without thoughts of him always interrupting everything! Do you know how excited that makes me??????? Ha! No, you don't, and that's okay.

Heather always thought it was funny that I'm a self-proclaimed romantic, since she's never seen it. I LOVE that kind of goofy stuff - leaving love notes, acting corny (and moderately nauseating), etc. One of my favorite things in the universe is being in love. I'm just finally able to do it guilt-free! &=D I know that sounds like a total cop-out, but I swear it's not. Trust me - if anyone in this free world is trying to get down to the root of my various problems, I can assure you I'm leading the expedition. Things have really calmed down for me, and although I'm not my biggest fan of the new and improved "calmer" version of me, at least I'm able to see things in a different light. I actually feel wiser, which is totally frightening, since I still picture myself as that retarded kid they're handing a diploma to and kicking out of high school, saying "welcome to the rest of your life! Now, LIVE!" Haha, that's STILL one of the scariest moments of my life. If my mom wouldn't have been there at that moment, I don't know what would have happened to me. (Thanks, Mom. You totally kept me from passing out that day, on more than one occasion.)

Ahhhh, I know. I talk things to death - things that won't change. But, it helps me understand...well, sometimes. And, it helps me work through things - always has.

I love him. And, I'm stuck. I wouldn't mind being stuck so much, if I knew there was something to it. But, if this is just another fruitless endeavor, to prove something to someone who cares nothing for me, then I'm ready to move on. And, it will be another X-amount of years before I'm over this one.

I wish he and I would have met when we were young. There was a point when we were growing together, and I miss that. I miss being "young" with him. I miss him.

I wish he missed me, too.

Undone

2010-02-03T22:37:00.003-06:00

I have these words that want to come out. All these words......

I feel like I have a giant mental brick wall, holding something back...like a dam...maybe all the words I want to say.

Right now, I can stare someone right in the face and have no thoughts and no emotions running through my head. You could probably look in my eyes and see clear through to the back of my skull.

In my head, it's all deafening sound, but it's completely quiet. My shapes and colors and trains of emotions and raw feelings and heaving chest ready to burst with tears are silent, absent.

This is not a state to which I am accustomed.

Oh.

I know what it is.

I've figured it out.

There are things I need to say to him, things I want to tell him, things I want to experience with him...

but I'm too scared.

I'm terrified to let myself think any farther than this moment, because if I do, I'm just going to end up being let down and getting hurt. I don't want to trick myself into making there be something there, if there isn't. All this faux-thought is how I get through. Pretending helps me make it through the day. But, it's completely unrealistic. Especially, when you're only HOPING someone feels the same way you do.

I could understand if he was nervous...you know, about getting back into the same THING we had before. It's hard to move past the primary point of innocence, when you first meet and you're still so unspoiled in your beloved's eyes. Our relationship wasn't initially based on friendship, but he came to be one of the people I trust most in this world. I know he would never INTENTIONALLY hurt me. But, you don't always equate "intention" with "translation."

He called me. Which is why I'm writing again. He never calls me. It's always in texts. I'm fine with texts, but it's just incredibly distant and impersonal. It's what you do when you're too embarrassed to talk to someone or you just want to tell them one thing.

He never calls me. Why now?

Should I ask?

Well, it's my situation, so I guess I can kinda do whatever the hell I want. (sweet.)

I miss him so much, it makes me sick to my stomach. I have daydreams of the way things would be, and I allow myself to get caught up in them, but only momentarily. Usually, I shake myself back into reality. I even dream of how things were, how happy I was. And, I was happy. The divorce was just hard on me. It really was. I felt like losing Mom and Aaron was causing me to lose my identity. I missed who I was. Sometimes I still do.

But, I'm different now. Things are different. SO much different. And, I'm different...but I'm better. I don't know that I'll ever be "over" depression, but I know that I'm over some drama in my life. I'm over pretending. I'm over trying to control things. I'm over trying to change people. I can do what I want to do, but in the end, things will always turn out how they were supposed to.

I wish I could just sit face-to-face to him and say things, all the things I need to say....and, know he's hearing me. One time, he wrote that something about me owns him. As sick as it sounds, what I wouldn't give for that to still be true. Seems things have changed. He's now the owner, and I'm the poor, pitiful puppy, who wants nothing more than to be loved, whole-heartedly.

Yes, I'm still trying to escape this, although I like to reach out and grab for the tender edge of that dream when I have a free hand and tug on it, when he's paying me attention. It's another reason I've decided to start getting out more and doing more things, meeting more people. Healing isn't a rapid process - ever. The circus protest this year was awesome, and I met a lot of great people. I just want friends. I just need friends.

What am I saying? I don't know what I need. I need a valium, is what I need. I need to stop obsessing over this (nice, that's only the second time I've used that term tonight = not good).

I know you don't read this, but I have so much I want to say to you. I don't know what it is, yet, but it's there. You know how I feel...I, once, left it on a slip of paper, on your computer desk. I'm sorry that I love you so much, but I do. I wish I could put all these weird, awkward, frightening, "OBSESSIVE," overpowering emotions aside and just be your friend, with no strings attached. But, I just don't think I can do that. I don't think that it's within my power to make that happen. I'VE TRIED to just not have feelings for you. I really, honestly have. But, I always come back to you. And, I don't mean in a way that deems you "my safety." I mean that you make me fucking happy. You make me happy and warm and fuzzy, and you make me have those damned hearts all over my head. I wish I could just sit and talk to you for hours on end. I want to fall asleep talking, about nothing and everything. I want to live the life we had, but without you having to live in that horrible shadow I was dragging around with me. I'm finally free of that. And, I want you to know I'm free. I FEEL free. I will always mourn for things and people I lost, the life I loved, but there's no point in living in the past. I'm ready to make beautiful new memories, with the man I love now. I'm ready to live a fucking real life again. I'm just no fucking good without you. You MAKE me a better person, just by being who you are...and I love you for exactly that. I'm so proud of who you are, and although we'll never agree on completely everything, you're the most wonderful human being I've ever met.

Just to show it's not all flowers and fairy dust, if you ever start dating someone who's not me, I will hate you, albeit momentarily (her, forever), and if you get married, no, I will NOT come to your wedding. Ever. So, don't pretend we're that great of friends, because we're not. I love you, but I love you with me. That's pretty much what it boils down to.

HA! Sorry. I just had to get that out. We had that whole weirdo "recent-ex comes to the door for four hundred hours, all upset and crying, while super-ex is hanging out inside, no this isn't awkward at all, so he comes back in and I'm on the floor, on all fours, having a fucking panic attack and screeching 'I CAN'T DO THIS!!! I CAN'T SEE YOU WITH OTHER PEOPLE!!!' " scene, and it went swimmingly (she says drolly, eyes rolling back). Actually, it went exactly like that, and it was horrific. I contemplated climbing out the window, but I was actually a little worried of how that would be taken. And, I was weathering it out, if there was any possible chance of us salvaging anything. Climbing out the window would have just been...well, something *I* totally would have done. Plus, I think that requires a bit of grace (which I do not possess), and I might have fallen and hurt myself, so that would have sucked to have limped around to him and the then-crying ex and explain what happened.

God, the rest of the evening was terrible enough. Not because of him, because he's always been good to me and calm with me and collected and thoughtful and kind. But, just because I couldn't get the image of them hugging out of my mind.

YES, I LOOKED THROUGH THE PEEPHOLE - DON'T EVEN ACT LIKE YOU WOULDN'T HAVE...rotten stone-throwers.

*URP*

So, I guess the visual just made me nauseated to the point that in my mind's eye, they were making out on the front stoop, talking about getting back together, what to name their kids and what to do with that weirdo who was sitting inside, while I sat inside by myself watching fucking tv. Fuck THAT altogether.

&=)

Let's just say, if I'm ever forced to jump around in time ("hoping each time that her next leap will be the leap home!"), that won't be a day I'll be revisiting. Well, that and that horrible NON-kiss, but we won't talk about that. *shudder* Ohhhh, the days of my life to redo could fill the Bible, no lie. But, you know, if it all ends up leading to something good (no, I won't put the responsibility of that on his shoulders), then hell - it'll be worth it.

Bring on some good days. I'm hella-tired from fighting this current. I'm ready to just lay down and let it take me out to sea. I'll never lay down and claim defeat - although I've been ready to, many, many times in the past. But, I want to just coast for a while, see what's out there...see if there's anything (anyone?) waiting on me.

Peeyew - God, I smell fart all of a sudden, which is weird, 'cause I'm the only one in here, and I didn't do it. &=( Well, that's a pretty good segues to end this post, right? The smell of fart, and the fact that I'm super-hungry for cereal. I'll be glad when I have some moneys, so I can get that name brand cereal I've been dreaming about! &=D

Yeah, I'm sleepy. It's been a rough day. But, I'm gloriously tired and somewhat content right now. Just missing...him.

C'est la vie - here's hoping........

Can't you hear what I'm NOT saying?

2010-02-03T21:14:00.004-06:00

*groan*

*GROAN*

He doesn't REMOTELY feel the same way I do.

How am I supposed to get over this? How the HELL do you STOP being in love with someone?

This "friend" bullshit is going to kill me - I swear it.

I could go right back into a life with him, but I know he just doesn't see it that way. He doesn't FEEL that way about me. So, why are we still putting on this friend charade? WHY, DAMMIT???? He KNOWS how I feel! Is it just to keep me hanging? &=(

I'm no good at things left unsaid. That's totally not me. I'm all about laying all my fucking cards out on the table, then going from there.

I just can't understand why he so badly wants to be friends. It would be different if we were building towards something...but I just don't think that's it. I'm deathly afraid of being used - but I will let it happen. I don't guess that conveys much love - maybe more along the lines of obsession.

Okay, well shit. That's totally creepy.

Fuck. I'm just going to stand here and get used, until I'm all used up. I'm not breaking another mother-fucker's heart. Fuck that. I'm not into the fuck-buddy thing. Maybe once upon a time. But, it hurts me.

And, this is going to hurt me.

But, I'll do it.

Because, I'm desperately in love with him, and I have no other way to tell him.

Aishiteru.

...I miss you...

Finally, an upswing.

2010-02-02T22:53:00.005-06:00

I GOT A JOB!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Sorry. Just had to start with my most important information.

I FINALLY got a FREAKING JOB!!!! I swear, I didn't see this coming. And, to be the tiniest bit honest (and a tad vague), I'm super-nervous. It's not a job that I'd particularly choose for myself, but I just need A JOB. And, as long as they'll take care of me, I'm good.

Uh, okay. I'm nervous about the state of my body. I'm worried I'm not going to be able to carry the trays, and I'll drop things. I've already been having a HELL of a time with my left shoulder. Lately, I've been having bilateral tennis elbow (worse in the left). How am I supposed to shoulder all this stuff? Not that pushing the C-arm was ever any better, but at least I wasn't carrying things. I don't know - I guess I'm just a little intimidated. Not even by the people - just the things I have the memorize and know, and I think the brown-nosery bothers me slightly. Although I'm REALLY, REALLY good at kissing ass, I don't LIKE it. I don't expect anyone to kiss my ass.

*Sorry, I'm having to make myself a note that my left ear is ringing. This is the only way I'm going to be able to understand that Ménière's thing I have, is to record all my symptoms and spells when they happen. I actually had a real dizzy episode about two days ago. I didn't have a full attack - just the dizziness and tinnitus. Anyway, back to more important things...

I went in today at 10, filled out paperwork, then they had us start shadowing people. It's pretty crazy, if you've never worked in the restaurant business. And, I don't care to smell that smell all day. At least a hospital always had that weird, clean, sterile smell. Fish makes me nauseous. But, they let me leave about 1, I went to visit with Heather, then I came back in at 4 and stayed till 730. My feet were killing me! Lots of standing - yuck. Lots of action - yay.

Also, my personal life is about to drastically change. Trevin's moving out (just as soon as either one of us gets money to send him back to Austin). I told him that it's just not working out, but I wanted to still be friends. He's been very understanding - I mean, we wouldn't have known unless we tried. I'm just not happy...same as I've ever been with anyone (other than the only two who meant anything). But, my mind keeps reverting back to the one. It's so hard...to be quiet and discerning. It's hard to look in from the outside and miss what you just gave away with both hands. It's not hard to be wrong - hell, I'm wrong ALL the time. And, I'm usually the first to admit it. Well, I was wrong this time.

I don't know that I'll ever get another chance...or even that I deserve one.

But, in the meantime, I'm working on myself. I'll never be perfect, but I want to be better.

First step - No more self-loathing.

'K, fine...

&=) I RAWK. &=)

Thank you, Kelly

2010-01-16T22:09:00.003-06:00

You environmentalists should check out my friend Kelly's page. She's who I MEANT to be, when I got to 32.

Can I go, now?

2010-01-14T23:55:00.003-06:00

So.

I didn't get the clinic job.

Somehow, I expected that.

But, now, I'm out of ideas of what to do...for the rest of my life.

I've come to the realization over the past few months that I don't like my life. There are people in my life whom I ADORE, but I just don't like MY LIFE. I don't LIKE being an x-ray tech. But, what can I do? I have a degree in something, that no one wants me for. Or, I think it's just that no one wants me.

That woman completely judged me on my resume. I have a hole-filled resume, for about six years, until I got the job at Highlands. Then, I was at Highlands for four consistent years. But, I guess that doesn't matter. Joe said they're looking for patterns. But, how can you see a pattern in something that hasn't been there for over four years? I have a feeling I'm going to have to redesign my resume, which is ridiculous. The JOB WORLD is ridiculous. It's all about lying and padding, to make things look better.

Look, do you people want the truth or not?

The woman who conducted my interview for the clinic was a real ball buster. She kept asking me all these really personal questions, and it made me feel really uncomfortable. She kept asking me what my ideal job was - she was waiting for me to say that I wanted to spend the rest of my born days in that clinic, but I'm just no good at lying. I can stave off the truth for a while, but I can't outright lie and brown nose like that. That's why I wasn't any good at Highlands. My boss wanted brown nosers, and that just wasn't me. I'm sorry - let me rephrase. My boss wanted brown nosers OR pretty girls, and I am neither.

I don't know what I'm going to do. I was really worried today, but I gave myself the rest of the day to be mad and pissy and cry, but I'm over it. Now, I'm just trying to move on to "what to do," or Plan Bazillion and Four. I don't LIKE not having a job. Yes, I would like to have a job that was better suited to me, but what is that? I haven't the slightest. And, all day, I've been fussing about how I should have just stayed in school for Biology, which was my original plan all along, but I didn't. I'd even like to go back to school, but that's out of the question for now. Right now, I just need a JOB. I need MONEY, to make ends meet. A friend put on her Facebook, "by the time you can make ends meet, they move the ends." Oh, how true that is.

Lately, I've been contemplating selling (or giving away) as much stuff as I possibly can, putting the rest in storage, giving my animals new homes, and just going somewhere else to start over. But, I'm deathly afraid that I'm just going to be running away from something that will follow me everywhere. I don't even know what that is. I'm so focused on money and paying off debt, I really have no room to think of anything else. Money consumes my mind and is what keeps me constantly stressed. It definitely IS the root of all evil. I mean, if I could pay someone in things that I HAD, I wouldn't be in debt (I can pay in cat hair - that's really all I have enough of at the moment). But, money is a scarce commodity in this house. I don't even buy things for myself anymore. I live with what things I have, and I pay the bills for the necessities. Granted, internet probably isn't a necessity, although, it helps to have while you're looking for employment.

Bah. This subject is so broad, and I could drone on for hours about it, but I'm not gonna. Tomorrow's a new day, and just as with every one of my "tomorrows," I'm going to get up and start over and pretend that everything's going to be different. It never is, but it helps to tell myself that, in order to keep myself fooled into having a reason to wake up in the morning.

I have a few job leads (thank you to those of you who have kept an eye out for work for me), so I'm going to wake up tomorrow and start making phone calls. Unfortunately, my sleep is completely out of whack, and I'm totally the opposite of a morning person, but I'm going to do what I have to do. Because that's what I do.

For some reason, God deems it necessary to keep me here. To be honest, I pray for death so often now, it doesn't even concern me anymore. I don't feel as though I'm doing any good for anyone - just BEING here - so, what's the point in keeping it up? I haven't the slightest clue. Really. I'm so depressed, and I dream of an infinite, painless sleep. But, it hasn't happened. And, I still believe in God - always will. I don't know what His plan is, and I kinda don't care anymore. But, I'm going to keep going, because it's JUST WHAT I DO.

I exist, because I'm here. I will always be plagued with this horrible depression, but I'm learning to cope better. I don't know what I want out of life, because NOTHING makes me happy. I keep trying to find it in other people, but that hasn't worked out. In fact, I panic and back out of every relationship I've had in the past. I want nothing more but to go back to him and fall into his arms - it might not have been perfect, but at least I was happy. There was a time when WE were happy. I made a horrible mistake, but that's what happens when you judge people for something they're not. I miss him so much, it sets me on edge. And, no matter our differences, I loved him. Still do.

Damn.

Hey, I'm good at making mistakes - are there jobs for that? No. No, I didn't suppose there were. I'd never get that lucky.

I'm so thankful for the people I DO have in my life. I'm thankful that he was pushy enough, to the point that we ARE still friends - at least he's still in my life, albeit very little. There are things that I do appreciate in my life, but unfortunately, I can't focus on those things. Those things don't make me money - and that's where I fail, miserably. I shouldn't be so hellbent on making money, but much to my chagrin, that's what makes the world continue to exist. And, that's what pays my bills. They're right - you can't function on love, alone. Love doesn't pay the bills. I have no love, though, so it's not something I'm concerned with.

Friendship does keep you afloat when you're drowning, though. I miss my friends. I miss being social. I miss not feeling like shit every, single day of my life. I miss not dreading going to sleep and dreading waking up. I miss not biting peoples' heads off. I miss happy. I miss me.

But, I know me. This won't go away, until I get work. Until I have something where I can keep MYSELF alive, I won't achieve happiness of any kind. I'm just...here. I'm just quietly falling apart inside, and I'm trying really hard not to take anyone with me. At least I admit it. At least I admit that money and work and having my bills taken care of makes me happy (okay, that's more of a temporary happy). It's not even the money, itself - it's the prospect of NOT having those unpaid bills hanging over my head, and NOT having creditors call me 15 times a day.

I don't know that I'll ever NOT struggle in my life, but I sure as hell wouldn't mind a damn break. The lottery? Sure. Whatever. I'll take anything. I'm not picky. But, I've been working FOR YEARS to get back to zero, and I'm constantly being stifled. Hell, I've been working for years to get back to metaphorical zero, in my LIFE, but even that hasn't happened. It's that typical scenario - you save up all this money to get your brakes done or get new tires on your car, but something's constantly going wrong, to keep that money drained, so that eventually, one day, your brakes go out. But, it doesn't matter, because you don't have the money to get them fixed anyway. So, then, you drive with shoddy brakes, until you end up having an accident, which is always going to be more costly than what you were aiming for in the beginning. It's Murphy's Law - and everyone's had it.

I never had a slice of bread,

Particularly large and wide,

That did not fall upon the floor,

And always on the buttered side.

I feel you, bread.

Sister, Interrupted...

2010-01-09T10:15:00.004-06:00

So, my sister found me.

Actually, she's my half-sister.

I don't really know what to make of it, except that last time we talked, she said some sorta hurtful things about my mom...which apparently HER mom had told her, about goings-on between my mom and dad.

When my dad died, his side of the family blamed my mom for his death...even though it was an industrial accident in a different state and she had nothing to do with it. But, I guess since he was working to support his "new" family (you should never move on - you should never make a new life for yourself), which included me and mom, and a baby can't be blamed for the fault of someone, that automatically passed on to my mom.

Obviously, no one will know exactly what passed between the two families, except for the people who were directly involved. I do know that they threatened to take me from her, because apparently since I was both my mom and my dad's child, they should have somehow gotten custody of me, instead of my blood parent. Go figure.

I know what my family has told me about them, and Brandy told me some of what was obviously told to her growing up, and I have to say, there's a reason I stuck with my family. My aunt Diane told me that one of the reasons Mom didn't want me to have contact with that side of the family is because she was afraid I would want to go be with them instead. I wish I'd known that. I could have let her know that she could have safely assured herself that I was going to stay with the people who had cared for and raised me.

That's what pissed me off about the things Brandy told me, the last time I talked to her (1997, I think? I was still in college). She was telling me things about MY mom that I knew she couldn't have known, only being very young herself at the time (she was nine when our dad died). People can say things and tell you things, but that doesn't make them true. And, even if they were true, I can promise you I would have stayed my ass right where it already was. I was happy with MY family. My mother was MY mother. She raised me, and she raised me well. SHE took care of me. SHE was the one who put me through school and kissed all my booboos and came to all my performances and cared for me every, single time I was sick...I wouldn't have had it any other way. As disastrous as my life has turned out, she was to blame for nothing but caring too much.

No, we didn't have the healthiest relationship - I was her whole world - but I consider myself to be an okay person, moderately smart, and definitely well-rounded. I don't trust anyone else would have CARED enough to raise me as well. I would have been a "half-child" to them, my dad's kid. And, I'm certain that no one would have loved me the way my mom did. No one else's mom would have taken the time to sit down with every, single principal, from elementary school to high school, and talk to each one about the threat of a possible "stray" family member coming to take me from school. A bit much, maybe, but she wasn't YOUR mom, and it wasn't YOUR life. YOU weren't the one who was threatened by people she thought she could trust.

Hence the reason there was no contact.

I have no desire to be a part of that family, even now. Could be harsh judgement on my part, but I'm an adult. I can make my own decisions. And, *I'M* the one who saw her cry every time she missed my dad. He's one of the many reasons she never got remarried. She loved him enough, and once she had me, she didn't feel as though she needed anyone else in her life like that. She'd told me many times that she never remarried, because she was always afraid someone would try to hurt me. Not that all step-families are abusive. But, she did what she did to protect me.

My mom didn't always make the right or best decisions, but she did what she thought would be in our best interest as a family. And, I'm okay with that. It was me and her against the world most of the time.

And, I'd give anything in my life to have her back right now.

So, anyway, Brandy didn't know Mom had died. She asked why I didn't have any pictures of her on my page, so I had to tell her. It was a pretty dreary letter, and I cried. Things are pretty bleak in my life right now. I don't feel good. My depression has a pretty good foothold. I had a really crappy interview, and I'm not sure I got the job. I'm all out of money, and I can't even muster the strength to care enough, to get out of bed and take a fucking shower.

I just don't care. About anything.

And, it's getting worse.

It's cold as shit here, and that's not helping things, not being able to be outside or feel less than crippled all the time. I'm sure a lot of this is coming from being lazy and unemployed. Or unemployed and lazy. Whatever it is, things have got to pick up/turn around soon. If they don't...well, I don't know. I'm not going to kill myself. I'm way too lazy to think up how I'd go about doing that. But, I *DO* have the desire to just lay here and die. I'd like it to be a speedy death, though, because I really am tired of the nothingness that is my life. I'd like to get out and do things, but I can't do a thing, because I'm COMPLETELY out of money. Unemployment screwed me over Christmas, so I'm behind a week of payment, which has thrown ALL my finances out of whack. A friend "gave" me $100 for Christmas, but that was just enough to keep me afloat.

2009 was a horrible year, but just because it's a new year, doesn't mean anything's going to get better. I've lost all my positivity, and I look forward to nothing but death. I'm trying really hard to "get over" this depression, as some of you have suggested to me, but it's kinda hard. It's actually harder than it looks. I'd kill someone for the Zoloft powder under their fingernails...and I don't even take Zoloft...and I wouldn't even kill anyone. I've never been homicidal, and I don't think I could start now. I'm too fucking tired.

Well, this was supposed to be a post about the Braxton side of things, but as usual, I got off on a tangent. I think Trevin and I are going to bundle up really warm and take Jack down to the dog park. I need to get outside, as much as I LOATHE the cold.

As always, I appreciate your comments and love. It's the only thing that gets me through, these days. I don't cry much now, because I'm drained of all emotion - even love. I'm a real sad sack of shit right now. But, I keep going, for whatever it's worth. I suppose it will pay off eventually. Or not. I don't know anymore, and I'm rapidly losing whatever faith I have left. But, as always, I love you guys. Sorry I haven't been on lately, but if I had, this depressive shit is all it would consist of. It's pretty gross. &=(

Hope everyone else's years are starting out better and will continue to improve as time progresses. I appreciate all your thoughts and/or prayers. God knows I need them.

*hugs*

Hurting hurts

2009-12-04T09:40:00.003-06:00

I hate the ends of things. I hate demise. I hate breaking up. I hate hurting people. I hate it. It makes me hate myself. And, I should. And, I do.

He's not a bad guy. And, he was trying. I just lost my connection. Or, was there ever one?

I don't know, but GOD, I HATE HURTING PEOPLE.

I feel like throw up. Like, the actual emesis, not the action. Okay, well, I feel like throwing up, too. A lot.

I know everyone always says life isn't easy, but why not? Why the hell can't we have some easy? When feelings get involved, you're just embroiled in a bitter battle to see who can come out on top. Not me. I don't ever want to come out on top of someone else's feelings. But, I just parked my car on his.

Babe, I'm so sorry. I really think it's best that you get out now, while you still can. I care about you enough to do this for you.

I need to get better - I need to BE better. I have no inspiration. I'm sitting in the bed, as I type this, which is where I've been for the past three months.

I have a job, now. It's part-time. I work with Jack's trainer, Ralph, but I'm basically just a kennel worker, so it's really hard work. The bright side is, I HAVE A JOB. I WON'T be sitting at home for three out of the seven days of the week. And, I get paid for hanging around dogs and letting them get poop and urine and slobber on me. I'm okay with that. I got an email from St. Vincent's yesterday, saying the position I had applied for had been filled. Not that I expected anything more. Although I plan on keeping up my registry, I have a feeling I'm done with medicine. What's in store for me, for the future? I haven't a clue.

Right now, I'm not feeling any love from the universe, but that's understandable.

FUCK. The thing is, I DO care about Cris! I DO. But, there's a piece missing, or there's a wedge between us, and I'm SO NOT HAPPY. I wish I could fix it. I really do. I care about him so much. I just want to take care of everyone. I wish everyone could just hug and cuddle and be happy, for no reason other than the fact that love exists, and we're capable of giving as well as receiving.

God, I feel shitty. We had a really rough Thanksgiving week, and I'm pretty sure that's what sealed the deal for me. Last week was okay, but I felt like I was just being completely rejecting of who he really is, since he only wants to express emotion on stage. I'm done with trying to fucking change people. I just want to find someone whom I can accept and help build up.

Basically, what this shit all boils down to is:

It's not you, it's me.

And, it really is.

I hate being me, more than I could ever possibly express to anyone on this earth. If it didn't feel like I was living with insides made out of scrambled eggs (brain, included), it might be easier. But, I'm so fucking conflicted with every decision I make, there's nothing I can hold tight to. Hell, I can't even choose cold medicine with ANY confidence.

Mom, why did you have to raise me like this, then leave? You know how much this sucks? Thanks for at least giving me our family to fall back on and sending friends who are real friends. If it wasn't for certain people in my life, I have no idea where I'd be. Throw a dart at a map of life - that's where I'd be. Anyway, I'm totally mad at you right now, for not raising me to be a proper adult. But, just so you know, if you were here, I'd totally have moved home and be living there now. So, maybe it's for the best. But, thanks for loving me unconditionally (although, sometimes it seems like I was pushing those "unconditions," huh? Sorry about that...). I miss you. I'm sure I wouldn't take your advice, since I'm your daughter, but I could totally wear you out in the hug department. Send some hugs my way, eh? I'm having a bad day.

And, so goes my life. On. For whatever reason. I know, TECHNICALLY, we're supposed to be patient, to whatever plans God is going to reveal to us. But, I'm getting antsy. I can't continue to live my life with a throat full of acid. I miss those super-boring days I'd come home from work to - ugh - the attic, and I'd have NOTHING to do and NO ONE to impress, and I'd just pass out, or watch tv, or surf. It was just me and the girls. At least I wasn't hurting anyone. (Well, except for that time Jammy found and ate one of my klonopins. Yeah, talk about feeling like a JERK.)

Cris, I'm sorry. This is lame and cliché, but I do care about you, and I do hope we can be friends. I'm still your biggest fan, and I think you're a wonderful person. You're just meant for someone else, and not for me. I wish you were. You're a really great person. You're fun and caring and active and adventurous and beautiful...I could go on. I hope one day you can forgive me. But, right now, I need to work on me. And, I don't have the resources. Soon, though...

You still mean the world to me. Thank you for being here for me. You've helped me so much, and I will forever be thankful that I met you. I am unconditionally your friend.

I'm going to lay down. My head is killing me from thinking and crying and throwing up and all that nonsense.

I hope everyone is well. And, I hope to be posting more and better soon. I can feel change coming in my life - I'm just not sure what it is. Thanks for being there. Thanks for reading. Thanks for thoughts and prayers, be you atheistic or Christian (and everything in between). I love all my friends, no matter who you are. You guys are awesome and incredible. I'd have nothing without you. ♥