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Tuesday, January 31, 2012

TMNT-Turtle Power for a Tubular Tuesday.....lame right?

So I am guilty again of not posting at the time I designated as most advantageous for my readers....due in part because it gives you a chance to start out the day with shits and giggles....and it has the better chance of being read now versus later when people start posting cooler shit going on in their lives than this....

But today I had to drop off this pesky little thing called dry cleaning, and it was raining and I couldn't decide on which outfit to wear....and now regret the one I changed back into.....I could go on and on with the excuses as to what and why I didn't post earlier, but even I am still fat enough that I need to save what little breath I can get out in the form of something other than wheezing......

Any way-when I last left you I was being a total twat and ranting about my stupid ego....and now...and now my ego is still a little bruised, but I will get over it....if I can get over death, divorce, baby blues and the life I live...by God I can handle that sometimes it isn't about me...or the problem isn't me...sometimes people are just that, people, human beings who error and some human beings just don't know any better.....maybe considerate shit that nags the heck out of me isn't something they're used to thinking about....and maybe I need to grow a thicker shell or even a shell at all would help.....kind of like my own "Turtle Time" today
where I will learn the protective skills of the common tortoise...

Stolen straight off of Wikipedia:

" Tortoises (play /ˈtɔːr.təs.ɪz/, Testudinidae) are a family of land-dwelling reptiles of the order of turtles(Testudines). Like their marine cousins, the sear turtles, tortoises are shielded from predators by a shell. The top part of the shell is the carapace, the underside is the plastron, and the two are connected by the bridge. The tortoise has both an endoskeleton and an exoskeleton. Tortoises can vary in size from a few centimeters to two meters. Tortoises are usually diurnal animals with tendencies to be crepuscular depending on the ambient temperatures. They are generally reclusive animals. "


See that! Smart ass little buggers there! They come equipped with built in defense mechanism in order to ensure their survival.....so what's my built in defense? Throwing out quips and witticisms that would make great bumper stickers or t-shirts ....but still leaving me bruised and broken?  Fuck that. A simple fuck that.  

Less than 5 days ago I felt like I was Balboa about to perform a K-O on my latest round, and now I'm about to throw up the white flag and run for the high hills....fuck that. Defeat is never an option. I don't know who the first person was to say that, but I know it was famous or made famous by that person and every other Nike or Gatorade commercial and professional athlete with an endorsement and save for the few cases like Tiger Woods were they had no other option..well everyone else comes out ok. So I will learn to be ok.

I will grow a thicker carapace and learn to withdraw back into myself if need be....I kind of used to have this hurt others before they could hurt me complex...mostly just towards men...but lately I see I have taken this stance with everyone...because I am tired of being disappointed or hurt....or just being some whiny pathetic person who rambles on boo hooing at what was, is or hasn't been....

Well today those days are over....at least with all certainty they are today.   I am going to take a cue from my friend the tortoise and suck it up and venture on out....I am gonna be tough if for no other reason than a bunch of pint sized reptiles with weird skin texture can and I have to for Charlotte.....because god knows the world doesn't need another neurotic bitch like me....

I'm gonna show my daughter that when those little blonde rich bitches call you poor or make fun of your clothes or tell you are a loser and won't play with you....well you just tell them that won't change the fact that at some point they're the ones who will date your leftovers or drive the used cars you get rid of when you buy your umpteenth new one....and they'll be driving it to and from the hellatious and horrible job they'll have working for you....until you fire them because they're gonna be too goddamn stupid to function without all of daddy's money....

Besides-chicks like that are great to take home to mom...and later divorce....over and over...but its the bad ass bitches like me, like my daughter whose life lessons seemed to be learned the hard way that make bad ass wives, doctors, lawyers, authors, moms....ok maybe the mom thing is still up in the air because bad ass bitches curse like bad ass bitches and hearing your toddler utter shit at Montessori doesn't increase your chances of the Columbia or Harvard admission letter..but hey 4 out of 5 ain't bad...because we learn to be equipped to handle hell ANYTHING and EVERYTHING because we have that shell and can withstand anything....except maybe Hurricane Ike and that's why we have USAA.....

How can I expect my Shark to face the world if all I do is run from it myself and lament for nauseating hours on end here to you guys? 

My step dad gave me something yesterday that made me laugh so hard I damn near pissed my pants...and then cry because it holds some truth....and I vow to make sure it doesn't any more....




Here's to hoping that psycho part skips a generation....but I guess I'll have to wait until she's in the full throws of puberty to report back on that one....so its 4 years and counting....

Let's all try and polish that old shell....you never know when you might need to withstand a ballistic co-worker on a rampage....or hide from the boss looking for someone's ass to chew....

So make this a Turtle/Tortoise day....I am sure gonna try...

(and if you think that's cute and clever check out this episode of Tosh.0 about turtles...still makes me pee my pants....with laughter and not because I didn't complete my Kiegel's)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WKgi3l_3Aj0


Monday, January 30, 2012

Love sick melody getting the best of me...

Ok-after rocking out to a little Paramoure and some Depeche....I apologize for the not so earlier-more recent rant...I'm not bipolar, or manic or crazy or afflicted with multiple personalities....

No, I'm just a sad bag of stretch marks who cannot let go of the past or accept the fact that I fuck a lot up and am my own worst enemy....

so here's some food for thought..or thought for food....dependent on your perception...which is really what that post and this and every other friggin one I do is about...perception, and how mine is usually ALWAYS wrong, warped and depraved ....but still my own...

So nibble on this for a while:

Any change, even a change for the better, is always accompanied by drawbacks and discomforts.
Arnold Bennett
 
I pray to God and hold faith....that the something better that's coming along is me....and stock up on tons of Preparation-H to take care of that discomfort Mr Bennett is talking about....
 
I apologize for earlier...what more can I truly say other than I'm a wounded puppy dog who feels kicked and needs to lick its haunches before it can go fetch that tennis ball....
 
I have a tendency to say things I almost never mean...Except when I say I love you which I rarely ever do, but always mean. Does that make any sense to you? Because it does in my head...but that seems to be the source of my problem...the tendency for my head and mouth..or hands not to be connected so that message is lost in translation...
 
So for those of you who will bother to read this....I challenge you today to post one thing that I need to change about myself, that you dislike about myself....that you despise....
 
And feel free to call me a douche, bitch, freaky troll...just note that Hobbitt, Chewbaca and Mommacat are taken already.
 
And if you find you have a long ass list...well post that too....I want to see how many of you give a shit enough to do this exercise...and how delusional I may be in thinking anyone cares if I make changes within myself....
 
Until later...I will be watching and waiting...with a cup of coffee instead of the stapler....
 
 
 

Pvt. Joker Davis and all the bodies I leave behind in my destructive wake...

First let me start off by saying I apologize for being late with this post...and for once it wasn't about oversleeping or having writer's block or a wet bed....although, that did happen yet again....and rubber sheets it will be from now on....

No-I just wasn't motivated enough to pour out what I am beginning to realize is useless shit no one really wants to keep hearing...hell, I write it and I don't even want to keep reading about hippy diets, and searches for inner peace or epiphany's or moments of clarity.....

No. Today I just want to rant and have what some may call a pity party....Today I am sitting in my cubicle at an extremely underpaid and under appreciated position wondering what the fuck I am doing allowing myself to waste away and not taking action to do anything about it....I am tired of using the pat laurel of "I am being responsible" when really its me being too goddamn lazy to do something instead of bitching about it....but then how can I stop bitching when I don't even have a backup plan of what the better alternative is to this? so I sit here....sniffling and hugging my box of Kleenex...

What may have put me in a foul mood this morning? Let's go down the list starting with the grey sky and moody blues my daughter seems to have, pontificating and asking me questions someone so young shouldn't even begin to want to ask...and no its not the dreaded birds and the bees...although, that will probably be the easiest topic of my life if we were discussing sex....because all I would do is lock her in the house until she's 18....

No these are of the social relationship philosophical kind...the kind where you look at your child's beautiful heart shaped face which is spattered with a slew of freckles now wet with tears, and explain that kids, girls specifically, are mean as fuck and can be downright cruel....I know because I am 29 almost 30 and just now realizing that I would rather have no friends then put up with the bullshit games that come with trying to have any....and tell her over and over in a mommy chant that things will get better.....that she is special, she is unique and she is better than them....but even I cannot promise the moon....or sun or stars or whatever that saying is....so all I can do is vow to be there to pick up the pieces and it breaks what I have left as a heart, and as I watch her walk across the asphalt there is a pooling feeling in my chest...

Follow this up with depositing my son at the babysitter and the unexpected death lock he has around my neck...and the chubby sausage fingers he places on my cheeks as he holds my head still to give me a big wet one..before giggling as he slams the front door behind me...and the pooling felt earlier overflows, and I am sobbing before I turn out onto Ella and it isn't even 8 o'clock.....

What the hell happened? Where is that spit fire little ball of sunshine who has for one week managed to ponder and muse the wonders of self fulfillment and further explore in her inner consciousness? Well, I'll tell you where she is....taking a much needed goddamn vacation to some far off remote locale complete with sunny beaches and shirtless cabana boys.....making way for her evil twin to swoop in and wreak havoc on my life....if even for one day....

Take this a step further with truly regretting the things I have done in the past few months which have led me to having no friends....or the kind who plan shit and don't invite me because its easier than dealing with the fact that they don't have the balls to tell me they don't want to be friends....which if truth be told is in fact fair given that I made the move to cut them out to begin with because it would be easier on me considering a falling out with a mutual friend would cause an awkwardness I hate and want to inevitably avoid.....and that followed me nonetheless....

What's that saying? Don't put the cart before the horse? Well I tend to do that thing when I get emotional and the next thing you know a series of emails get sent and 30 minutes later when I am calm and collected, I read them and realize I make things worse.....but then again, what kind of judge of character am I that I make friends with people who are so quick to judge or abandon me because of the shit that spews from my mouth?

I know I am a very poor judge of character...given the first failed marriage, the numerous assholes who came before him, the people I have trusted as friends only to turn their backs or talk shit about me....the list is endless....Crap! I would trust the homeless vagrant whose sign says "Need Food, Family's Homeless" even if I watched him cross the street with my $20 to the crack house....and at the very end of that list is ME! Surprise! Who knew? And what you ask could I possibly have misjudged about myself?

My mouth, my hot headedness...my ability to alienate myself from others which must be some subconscious method to sabotage myself....its like I can't stand my own happiness...I cannot let people in...and yet its their very opinion which makes or breaks me...Look at me wasting a whole post on this, and the whole time being so insecure my stomach is grumbling because I suddenly care what they think, if they'll approve....(although, I realize know that's also part egocentric and makes me a megalomaniac because they have way better things to do than read this shit....they know I'm crazy and don't need further proof)

It's this fatal flaw that I feel will be the death of me...this need to incessantly wish, want, crave and need the approval of people to feel validated....one of the earlier symptoms discussed in my "physical" the beginning of the year, and I had vowed to change...vowed to be a better person....to not let this happen, to fall into this trap....to feel better about myself on my own....

But I am finding it is way easier said then done especially when you don't give a shit about yourself to begin with.....because you buy into that whole song and dance that there isn't anything worth giving a shit about...

Real pathetic, don't you think?

And how on Earth does this equip me to even be qualified to answer my daughter's heartbreaking questions, to soothe and console her over the spilled milk of failed father figures, bullies at school and the awkwardness of prepubescence when I myself haven't quite made it out of the painful acne hormonal stage....the only thing missing is braces and being shoved into lockers or having my clothes stolen during gym...

How am I supposed to teach my son to be a better person, to continue that selfless, all out loving part of him, chubby fingers and all, if I can't? If all I want to do is be a spiteful bitch and defriend a bunch of people on Facebook and tell them to screw themselves....knowing I'll spend half my time wondering what they are all doing without me? Daydreaming or reminiscing about all the good times we all had?

Ok-that doesn't sound pathetic...its sounds psychotic and pathetic....and just downright sad....that I waste so much energy on something so petty...when I know and need to remind myself everyday, that I don't need others...I don't need them to feel good about myself...that I can be the better person if even it comes with a puffy face, red eyes and slice of humble pie (not to be confused with Ms. Minnie's shit pie).....even if it kills me...because I know deep down I am a person of worth. And I don't have to put up with that bullshit, but I also don't have to stoop to that bullshit either....which is why Max's invitations went in the mail today...I will nice, I will be cordial...but I won't hold my breath either that I get a lack of RSVP's and after pouring this much out this morning, I realize I am ok with that...

I am ok with knowing I am disliked, I am mocked or worse...I am forgotten or not even of consequence at all and that is the worst thing of all...knowing people don't, didn't give a shit enough about you to even think of you now....but I know I can suck it up and make it through...because I know I didn't just burn bridges...I fucking stood with a blow torch and hairspray and lit a city on fire...and all I can do now is stand back and watch it burn....and it's what I rightfully deserve...for being this crazy rambling person who speaks from her ovaries instead of her head....

So where is this not so snappy , not so snarly, not so cool blog leading today? I don't have the slightest fucking clue...I just know I needed to cry..I needed to rant...I needed to let it out before I exploded and fired out rubber bands as I barricade myself in my cubicle, humming the theme to Full Metal Jacket at the top of my lungs, wielding a stapler as a machine gun.....

I know I needed to vent if for no other reason so I don't waste time thinking about it all day, becoming more and more morose, more isolated.....more upset that the only person I can call friend is so far away I can't even ask for a hug,....even though its all I want more than anything.....

and this is my epiphany, my a-ha moment today....I need a hug. A HUGE bear kind where someone will wrap their arms around me and squeeze until my innards feel like combusting....and maybe some Midol and a box of Pearls since I seem to be hormonal and PMS'y....(not really, but that sounded a lot better than admitting its just me being a whiny douchebag on a public post.....)

Only problem is by being the old me, there isn't anyone left who wants to hug me....except for that silly boy with the girly golden curls....and I settle for his big smooches and sticky lips....and that's what keeping my Kleenex consumption down today at work....

Tomorrow I promise, my few devoted if for no other reason than pity followers, I will have something fun, witty, make you pee your pants funny tomorrow to make up for today...but for now...I just wanted my whiny bitch moment....before I return to the shackles of "being responsible".....

now where is that stapler?







Sunday, January 29, 2012

A Christmas Story moment with the tax man...

Kicked back with a content tummy of french toast, fresh berries and a tall cold glass of almond milk....Finally I am having a lazy Sunday! explaining my posting at 10:30 am versus 6:00 am.....also in part to the long ass bath I took with no kids, no tub toys and a good book.....which I managed to finish for once without interruption.

Weeks and weeks of waiting and I switched my earlier vow of having Saturdays free to Sundays....I have laundry, but that's a chore that will never never end as long as there are two females in the house who insist on changing clothes at least twice a day......and a little boy who when wearing a bib still manages to get food EVERYWHERE else but on the bib....go figure...

No, today I have reclaimed as my own to do whatever the hell I feel like doing...or don't feel like doing if that is the case....and after the day I had yesterday...well, I need a breather....

I had this weird gray feeling Saturday which could very well be a direct result of H&R Block popping my delusional balloon and slapping me with the wake-up call that I have officially entered adulthood....which apparently includes the depressing realization that you get less back married then when single and that little itty bitty bitty raise you got...the one you didn't know whether to cry or laugh about...in joy or despair...that it pushed you just enough above the tax margin that you are considered one of the elite adults who don't get to bank in on the fat cash coming your way....that there will be no "tax refund cars" or vacations at the moment.....and you sit there with your mouth hanging open, having a slowmo frame by frame reaction in Ralphie mode...and the long drawn fuuuuuudge (which if you know me was just like the movie and not fudge at all) in front of some shriveled old man who hunt and pecked his way at my taxes....

Well, I grabbed my little shoe box filled with what I now realize was a waste of paper and substantial evidence that there will not be that never taken honeymoon....or the new laptop wasn't happening this year...I grudgingly made my way back to my mother's to retrieve my kiddos....who had been having the time of their life terrorizing their equally frazzled grandmother and at that moment I realized it wasn't so bad being an adult....or being broke..

As long as I had my sanity, my health and lots of sticky icky little fingerprints on the windows of my car, Hello Kitty band aids in my first aid kit (or that fact I had a first aid kit at all) or the coloring on the back of the bathroom door....it was ok...I could make do with that....but I would be lying if I didn't admit it made me sullen and miserable at that moment...

So off to the Magick Cauldron and Les Grivals we went....a couple hours later of with run-ins with weirdos and hyperactive puppies who chase every tennis ball in sight followed by a scrumptious tofu Vietnamese sandwich...and I was back to my usual bitchy smart ass self.....and reading all this insane news coverage on Demi and her Whip-it action....am I the only person who doesn't give a fuck about whether or not she's smoking K-2, doing Whip-its followed by shots of Adderall and Red Bull???  Celebrities going on drug binges and its front page news for at least a week.....Local druggies go on binges and beat, maim and kill their children, their spouses or OD under overpasses and its buried on the 14th page of the Chronicle...or stuck at the end of the news cast right after sports.....

Sobering reminders that no matter how much I posture...no matter how many raises I get...no matter how much I write on this blog hoping someday it will lead to a column or job outside my damn cubicle and institutional walls that it won't.....that we live here on Earth, in reality and that sometimes means mothers down the street poisoning their kids or the quiet guy at work who beats his wife...women walking into Metro trains, and everyone getting told at some point by the tax man that their buck stops there and they ain't seeing no more $$$$ signs after that new job....

Shit...even that would make the most emotionally balanced person throw in the towel and then take a huge leap into the bayou.....but not if we all take a breather whether its a lazy Sunday, Saturday or if you are unemployed or independently wealthy enough to sit on your ass full time (or thanks to mommy and daddy) , we all need time, space to recharge our psyche and energy and soul....so that when faced with all that page 14 shit we can make it through the story and realize it isn't OUR story....

In conclusion (because I find I use the phrase 'So, ' far too much and I am not getting stuck in that Valley Girl redundancy), I plan to use this day to allow myself the space, the time to become emotionally prepared to live through one more week, one more day, and hears to hoping you don't see me on at 11 right after sports....



P.S. You will find this post to be a little shorter today and directly to the point without the attempt to lengthen or flush with hip pop culture references or smart ass plugs of what sounds witty in my head....and that's because I've got a TON of nothingness and a HUGE amount of jack shit to complete....and the couch is calling my name....didn't I say this would be a lazy Sunday?





Saturday, January 28, 2012

Rocky Balboa I am not...but I sure as hell will try

This post is about...say 2 hours later than I intended, but it's Saturday, and occasionally I'm allowed to be a little lax in my schedule.....and what a schedule it is! Something tells me today is going to be no less crammed with to-do's than yesterday, and will threaten to get the best of me. But I put on my fighting gloves and tell it to bring it....because I've got brass knuckles on underneath and am not above cheating to win this showdown....

As for yesterdays showdown, I managed to LIVE (because as stated before I am choosing to do more than survive) through Friday even if it ended with a snotty screaming 8 3/4 year old, a crying meltdown from me at my 91 year old grandfather's living room, and eating olives straight from the container at 9pm until they are empty...and having to put back in the fridge like white trash because I inevitably forgot when I stopped for milk to grab trash bags......not to mention the stack of files still on my desk that at some point today I will have to go in and battle...

So what pray tell do I have scheduled today you ask? Well between the evil villain of filing taxes at H&R Block, more laundry (for some reason this pesky culprit keeps popping back up and the pile is higher than it should be, I am certain), cleaning house and then finishing plans on a 2 year olds birthday and prepping for his very first day of big boy school....I don't see sleep swooping in to save me at any point and I think that's something left to the back burner until I can knock all this out...whenever that will be...

I think, I know today will be better than the last simply because of the aforementioned crying meltdown...sometimes I bottle so much up I can barely breathe and I feel this crushing weight on my chest like a cinder block, and I am gasping for breath like I'm in a big pool of water and some Mafioso is holding me down....wouldn't it be cool if I made that reference because I actually know a Mafioso and not just because I watched too many episodes of the Sopranos or Goodfellas one too many times....

anyway-I think it was a combination of stress, fleeting inner peace and my inability to find it once I've lost it and the lack of constipation from eating meat to keep me gritty and tough....hell, if you can withstand gas, bloating and constipation from overeating, you can withstand anything....well, the floodgates opened and away I was swept.....I cried, I bawled, I emoted, I sat there in a trembling ball pouring my heart out to a retired Marine Colonel who seems to even after all these years to have brass balls....and it was sad enough (or funny) for him to witness that he shed a tear too...and then told me to suck it up, that life was difficult and complicated and downright awful sometimes due to circumstances we have no control over....but we have to deal with it, to overcome it because circumstances aren't what make us...these problems, these things are obstacles and obstacles are overcome on a daily basis....and the pat line all people over 65 say at some point at least once, "this too shall pass"....

Exactly what I needed to hear...but at an obnoxious 29 years old and still feeling like I'm trapped in the body and mind of a nerdy outcast of 17, this little insecure and angry passive aggressive person doesn't know how to do that....it seems like an impossible fight to win against myself and the messy life I seem to sometimes wish was far more simpler....but that's half the fun, right?

That's that living part I talk about.That's me realizing all that simplicity I hope and wish for is code for just boring and lonely...and who's to say it wouldn't lead to the embarrassment of raccoon eyes from the saline squirting out my tear ducts, landing in black streaks on my chest and lap.....

So today I woke up and laid in bed, dry, cozy and exhausted and realized I cannot cram a lifetime into this 29th year...that fighting, dragging all these obstacles into a short time frame to overcome is asking for a heart attack or aneurysm or worse....it's as if I feel that turning 30 is bringing death...and I have to get everything done NOW NOW NOW.......for all I know I get run over by a bus tomorrow or my 2 year old wacks me with a Leggo for the upteenth time and it's the final blow...so what's the alternative? waiting for death to come for his big knockout...to live everyday like I was dying? waiting and waiting? then I wouldn't be living....I'd be some whiny bitch emoting over everything she hasn't done....

so should I live everyday like I'm LIVING my last?  that I'm not waiting on death, but thankful s/he hasn't come yet? and then express excitement and pride in all the things I HAVE done before I die?

It's so much harder than it sounds....but I took a deep breath and got my ass out of bed...partially because I had to pee and partially because I knew I had to get this one coherent train of thought down before it got lost in the jumble of mush that remains as my brain....complete with misfiring electrodes, neurons and shit....

I sincerely hope and wish we all live today to the fullest, annoying battles with to-do lists, peeing kiddos and evil bosses, hangovers and spouses alike....and if even we don't win this round, we walk out wiping the blood from our nose...and a smile on our face....(yes, today of all days I chose to use fucking references from Rocky, but I felt like it was motivational....besides just using the f word as many times as I can)

I'm off to hit the showers and get on my game face....in the form of pancakes I have to make for my midgets ..here's hoping the day isn't a doozy....

Friday, January 27, 2012

Working at the car wash....waiting on Gandhi or Buddha

HELLO world!! We made it we made it we made it! Hallelujah, it's Friday.   For those of you finishing your week off like me, you're probably not running on all 6 cylinders and coasting on fumes....or the car has caught fire and is stranded off the busiest section of 610, waiting for the wrecker who has yet to come....

All we need is the golden hour of 5 pm and we are in recharge, repair, re-wash mode....two whole days to unwind and de-stress....and just kickback with a big middle finger at the rest of the world because those two precious days, those holy 48 hours are YOURS and you are going to do whatever you want with them.....or will you?

For some of us, the weekend is none of the above...because we are still burdened (or graced if you look at in a positive way) with all the same responsibilities of work minus the assholes we report to and sign our paychecks.....no, now its the little people whose crusts we cut off PB&J's and the laundry pile beckoning you, and the spring cleaning that never got done in the spring....it seems like there is  never a moment to breath, a moment to just be.....its on the move, on the move, on the move.....How is it I know a hundred mom's who literally run themselves into the ground with all the errands, chores and child rearing with the peppering of a few soccer games, ballet classes and the really good ones going to church....and yet, we don't lose one iota of a pound, and we still look just as ragged and hagged as ever? 

And don't assume I am being discriminating against men..I am an equal opportunity offender.....I see the dads too with their balding shine and drooping gut....I've got one of my very own...and let me tell you-crow's feet on men is way worse than women...FYI, it's botox...and you men ought to check it out too...that or scoop up some Oil of Olay night cream....

Why am I back on musing or mildly ranting about the hustle and bustle of crazy life yet again you ask? Well, because yesterday I took a coupon this outfit called My Fit Foods dropped off at our business to try and decided to check them out....Let me start by saying I work with a crap load of women and every one is on a diet of some kind from the HCG drops (which are could very well be diluted goat urine for all they know), illegal ephedrine, Health-E Trim, Weight Watchers...hell, I think we have a puker and starver or two....and then those whose diet plan involves eating anything and everything that's within reach.....Don't get me wrong...I don't judge...too much....because I used to be one of those women a few short months ago....along with a 9 weeks of grueling boot camp and still no Instamatic results we want.....

Any way-back to the topic at hand....this food service place brought a shit load of coupons and there were a handful of us women who chose to keep them because we would actually use them...that was over 2 weeks ago and I finally had the time and the lack of a packed nutritious lunch as an excuse to venture over.....

I stepped in through the door and went maybe a total of 2 feet before I was met by Aida....even her name implies she will be unique and leave a lasting impression....it didn't help either that she was maybe all of 18 or 19, and still had that fresh morning dew look about her....the kind that really irritates the shit out me where she has no makeup on,  doesn't need it to look passable as human, nothing at all but a smile and some lip gloss and looks like she stepped out of Vogue....She glowed, she radiated healthy energy vibes, and the girl walked as if she had all the time in the world....and not the annoying slow ass, you look for a manager to get them fired walk....no she just seemed peaceful....I looked around and realize there was a whole business full of peaceful employees....

I managed to purchase a vegan lunch with some snacks and get a second free.....and huge dose of conversation about my venture into the lifestyle....I got 20 questions from her, and I stood awkwardly remembering myself at that age....and cringing because I may have been a size 1 and minus the gray and white hair....but I still had the car on E, trying to zoom around to all the destinations I had on my list....never stopping to refuel, to take a moment to care for myself...to even start looking for where inner peace can be found...fuck, to be young again and do it all over! what I wouldn't give....maybe what's left of my soul? nah...but it was a reminder of the age and life that has worn me down...and I left there vowing to delve further into my search for inner peace.....maybe it will turn out to be the fountain of youth....

Well I am here to tell you....if peace cannot be found by way of kung fu, My Fit Foods is a hell of an alternative...and not ever lasting inner peace, but the kind that rubbed off enough that when I got back to work and consumed my Macho Tacos I felt calmer than I had when I woke that morning...and it carried over right until my head hit the sack last night.....

And I woke up to a DRY bed!!! Yay for me...and for Max for having good bladder control...but seriously, what a little kick in my ass to get me going....I guess I am trying to say that you can find peace, motivation in every walk of life....you can find that little umph you need to get your ass out of the house or just a little extra pep in your step....even from lame ass places like a health food delivery service....either this is true or I'm the really lame one, and my life is in that dire need of a pick me up, I try and look in the oddest of place to find it....or I am in the dire need of some blogging material besides the highs and lows of my chaotic life...

Either way.....where do you find inner peace? What is it for you this weekend that will refill that tank, that will recharge that battery? ok-I'm gonna stop there with the lame half ass attempts at analogies or metaphors or whatever the fuck I was doing with the countless car references.....it's getting annoying even to me....and I am egocentric enough to read my own blog....


Any way-start today out looking for that inner peace thing....check back in with me and let me know how well that goes for you....I'm curious where all of you find it....

I bid you adieu....until tomorrow morning and for those of you hungover from tonight, then afternoon...

5 o'clock here I come...but a shower first....

Thursday, January 26, 2012

Batman, Robin and scraps of paper with my unfinished life

Good Morning to all...well, we survived Hump Day as best as we could, and are that much closer to Friday and hauling ass out that door come 5 o'clock....

Yet another morning waking up in my very own water bed....I am beginning to realize I may have what is referred to as a bed wetter on my hands and that this may be that moment when we should start gravitating toward potty training...only he's still so small for his age there's that whole predicament of the husband who leaves the damn seat up and fear my 2 yr old son will get flushed away....

But let me move on because this is beginning to sound like a parenting blog for Huggies flushable wipes or pull-ups, and I am anything except one of those cutesy moms with the advice on products and homemade crafts and cookies...my shit still kicks all those other moms asses, but talking about it incessantly isn't my style....look at me, I already wasted a whole paragraph more than I intended...

So moving right along, it's Thursday and my to do list has turned into some epic figment of my imagination because its seems no matter how hard I try, nothing gets accomplished and subsequently crossed off, and then more and more crap gets added....

Take for example the current list I made last night when the rest of the household was able to lumber off to their respective beds (prior to puddles) and slip into REM while I paced and paced, racking my brain as to how to swing all that I have to...

Here is that list and most has to be done by my tomorrow:


1.  Finish discoveries and interrogatories (a nasty little inconvenience and intrusion of paperwork...)
   *Note: Half-way done, but had to stop because my blood pressure spiked and I started looking for pointed sharp objects

2.  Construct a strict budget to fit in cost of school tuition for Madd Maxx
  *Note: Husband was supposed to help make this decision, but decided to fall asleep in a warm, DRY bed and leave me to make on my own.

3.  Finish planning 3rd Grade Valentine's parties.....
 *Note: still waiting on teachers to decide what they would like...so another probably last minute thing as if the stress and nervousness of being around HCE Cougar mom's isn't scary enough...

 *Second Note: take a Paxil and a blood pressure pill that day

4. Quiz Shark on spelling

5. Quiz Shark on math facts

6.  Clean Maxx's room
 * Note: donate LOADS of shit to Goodwill

7. Complete the pile of shit on my desk at work so that come Friday I leave a clean desk
   *Note: ha-ha...right


I could keep going but my hand is starting to hurt and my neck as well from craning to read my handwriting penned at 11 pm....Suffice to say I will go through and mark them off at random as completed and no telling when this might occur or if even....so when did the first to-do list come about? I mean is that a fact when can Google or Wiki? Whose responsible for inventing, developing this concept of keeping track of a list of duties we must do which is essentially a huge adult CHORE list and then calling it a "to-do" list to make it sound less oppressing or depressing....because it doesn't help....

I mean I could make thousands and never actually finish half of them...the short, 3-5 lister for Sundays or Saturdays get done quite frequently....but the week ones-shhh..hell no! and there's that huge emphasis on the 'N' in the no....and then you have the whole art of errand to-do lists and then goals to-do lists, and then actual things you have to physically do.....I mean I could dissect the whole subject, and probably attempt to write a real poorly received (and written) windbag of a thesis on this alone...which no sane person would read, but I have somewhat of a valid point, right? Who needs the added stress in today's life of evil to-do lists?

Its like automatically setting yourself up for failure because how many of us (save for those weekend lists) make feasible to-do lists? And actually finish everything? Oh...everyone, but me? Fuck...I can see where the problem lies: me.

So how do you all do it? how do you all reach super caped avenger status with juggling everything life throws at you and still managing to hit the balls out of the park without tripping on that cape...or smashing a window on the Bat Mobile?   Perhaps I just need to recognize I am not a structured person who has enough discipline to follow through on anything...hell, the fact that this relationship has lasted this long shocks even me...and my kids seem to be pretty well rounded, healthy, and not wondering Walmart's or neighborhoods unsupervised...in fact, minus the bed wetting and door slamming from my almost 9 going on 14 year old, they are downright the best thing I followed through on....and second to that is this blog project/hobby/I don't know what the hell this is thing.

Really, how do you guys do it? How is it that people can manage to pay attention or focus or prioritize long enough to do these completely mundane and normal things I have spent my whole life trying to do.

So where was I going with this you ask? That's a good damn question...maybe I should add that to my long stretched to-do list...but then that's half the fun in these little rants, and gurglings....I don't know where they're going..they just come out....so today's is beginning to shape into another commentary on my idiosyncrasies....wasting time making lists I never finish....so does this mean my life is nothing but a bunch of unfinished lists? Will I die with boxes full of scraps of yellowed paper, stained with the bleeding ink of tasks I never marked off?

Well shit...I don't want to go out like that...maybe I should make a bucket list...and add finishing what I start to that list...with a sub heading of to-do lists...

And the first thing I have to on that to-do list is wash some more goddamn sheets...and maybe go out and invest in some rubber ones....

So here's to another day behind a cramped desk, another ride in gridlock traffic served up complete with a long ass to-do list...and some of my humble pie when you realize you too might be a person who cannot master the art of to-do lists...

As for the rest of you-let's see how well you do at getting those things checked off before you judge us that don't....and if you do...well if you do I haven't thought of a snarky wise ass cracking comeback..
it's number 11 on my to-do list.







Wednesday, January 25, 2012

Flashback to the day that started it all....blame Joe

So-I have spent most of my morning going back and forth on whether I am taking the right path with my writing...but I don't what the hell the path I am supposed to take is and furthermore, don't care....I guess I need to accept that for the moment I am addicted to getting out as many thoughts that I can for fear they will be lost...and then what happens when I die? So many things unsaid, unwritten that might be worth hearing....or at the least the memories, thoughts I can pass onto my children....

Just musing over this is making me maudlin and I flashback to all those years ago, taking one simple English class with a man named Joe and a bunch of outcasts and misfits staring in fear the first day....I think the prompt given was something to the effect of  'apologize to someone for something you have done'.....I must have sat there for a full beat before I looked down and my pencil was flowing across the paper at a furious speed....anyway-with that first story I opened a flood gate into myself that allowed me to tame all the things i wanted to say, all the fears, desires, and monstrous punishments for those in my path who had wronged me...well, here I found a HEALTHY way to let it out...

The story itself is something I cannot read aloud without crying...and not the rageful kind I am prone to, but the quiet, mournful and joyous kind I try to do only in private....perhaps its because her birthday is coming up and with half her childhood over, I am so deathly afraid she will slip away...

so before she does, a little visit down memory lane to my first assignment for Mr. Aimone...

                    *****************************************************

                                                     For Her



You were the size of a pea.  A mere idea of an idea.   Scared and driven by the

need to feel something, anything outside myself, beside myself, I seduced him.

            Ridiculous now, the way our heads smacked against the headboard, the embers of

a roach in an ashtray by the bed.  Black outlines, desperate silhouettes.  This escape, this

feeling of euphoria, as short lived as it may be, brought me some sort of warped idea of

peace.  Some sick relief and comfort in my own skin.  The continuation of these

couplings, in the backseat of cars, the bathroom at work, any spare moment and place

became my one and constant thought.  I became reckless, seeking out moments of selfish

indulgent behavior whether it was buying a pair of boots three times my paycheck or

drinking a bottle of Jack straight until I stumbled home only to fall back into bed,

smacking my head at 3 am.  Somehow I sensed something was coming, an end to this

self-destructive madness even though I didn’t know what.  An end, which I feared

because it meant an end to ME.  The fiber of my being, the essence of me was rooted in

the ability to do, say, snort, and fuck anything and everything I wanted with no

consequences, no one to think of but me.

The End. The end came as a pale blue strip glaring back at me

from the toilet of a CVS restroom.  Glaring at me, accusing me of unspoken sins,

accusing me of neglecting my grandmother, smoking too much, swearing like a

motherfucker, and not believing in Santa or God. 

Fuck.

 the one word I could mutter at the moment I realized you would exist was Fuck.  I am

sorry.  Sorry for not coming up with something better. Sorry for not giving you some

sweet grandiose tale of tears, joy, and goddamn lobster dinner to celebrate your

impending arrival.  Celebration. a celebration which consisted of a Marlboro Light and a

can of Coke, staring at the rubber sole of a shoe, wondering how long I could sit in the

parking lot to stop the spinning of my heart and head.  

I apologize for being 20 years old, pregnant, unwed, broke, and freshly sober with

no inkling whether I even loved the father to be.  Loved enough to have coffee or dinner

without the inevitable dessert of sex and drugs. 

Sorry for the fact that I never doubted, not once, having you.  Because I was so

selfish I saw this as a way to reinvent myself, a way to escape a bruised head, a mundane

dead end job, to escape a girl who stayed up till 6 am watching QVC to avoid the

thoughts in her  head or the stranger in her bed. 



I could not believe the ramifications this would have on the future. Our

future. Your future. 


The fact that 4 years later you would be watching you mother, hair wild and

scraggly, standing in a her pj’s unscrewing the hinges off the kitchen cabinet doors all

because Daddy won’t close the doors after getting down dishes. All because Mommy is

driven crazy and cannot believe she married a non-door closer, wild with disbelief that

their union is doomed by things as trivial as this.  But these things were so much more

than trivial. They were so much more than I can begin to explain, and yet not once did I

regret my choice.  Not even when a U-Haul at 7 am containing all our clothes, your toys

and books drove away, you waving goodbye to your father and life.  4 years of a life

crammed in a 12-foot truck. 


Choice.

 Such a strange word.  Somehow it makes what I did sound so noble. As if my act was

not self-serving.  I chose you.  You chose me.  I chose this road ahead of us, again seeing

a way to reinvent myself, now to reinvent you, to make a better choice this time.  That

somehow this time around it will be better.  No cigarettes or cokes.  Santa and God

beside us, and those boots are replaced with soccer shoes, and dance lessons. 

I am guilty.  I am sorry. Sorry because I am never going to be sorry, never sorry

that I do not feel guilty or even remotely upset for wrecking your life, for making this

choice for you. Sorry that you may never understand. That my love for you is

immeasurable and yet the reason for the love began as an act of desperation.  And that is

my confession, my secret, my seven Hail Mary’s.

Waterbeds and sausages...the stuff my nights are made of

Well....it's that time again...ok, a little later than usual...instead of 5:30 am, it's 6 am due to a crisis at 3:47 am where I woke up in a puddle...due to my 2 year olds overactive bladder....thus followed changing of the sheets (just as solemn and serious as the changing of the guard), changing of pj's which inevitably woke the terrorist as he is so aptly referred to... and then a restless, tossing and turning for the rest of the night/morning...

So is this an omen for the rest of the day? Starting my morning in a puddle of piss? Or is it just another exciting adventure in parenthood? Either way, its going to be a rough day....one I wish I didn't have to survive without caffeine, but since I vowed it off along with processed food then I have to suck it up and get through today on sheer will alone...and maybe a 15 minute power nap in my car during lunch...

You're probably asking what does one do when woken up in that manner at the ass crack of dawn? Well, in my case you lay awkwardly on your freshly changed sheets (awkwardly because you still subconsciously think they are wet) and you pray that quietly watching Cars will send your rambunctious toddler stepping on your bladder back to the land of Nod...and that you won't be the next to leak all over the bed...but at your age with 2 kids you beg the Gods you don't cough or sneeze because it could be a real possibility....

With all the tossing and turning and then a husband who had to screw it up just as I was slipping back into a quosi mode of sleep by going to shower and turning on lights and shit....I gave up. I gave up on any shred of hope that I would get my 8 hours of sleep, and instead chose to lie silently staring at the ceiling, counting sheep...or goats...or insert your animal of preference here...because then my mind began to wonder and I started thinking about where I was going with this blog...what topics would be more interesting and amusing to the few people kind enough to care what fucked up stuff comes strewing out of my head, my ovary...(like how I worked that shameless plug/tie in thing there??)

Well, I drew a big blank....because let's face it I could spend 365 days posting shit about being vegan and my diet, but even I could tired as hell of hearing it, and then I should contact Whole Foods to start paying ME for all the ad time....Do I keep adding anecdotes of my hilarious and bumpy ride with a 9 year old and 2 year old? Or do I keep it in the style with which it started of just rambling on about whatever I could, would at the moment? Like a stream of unfiltered consciousness?  Hell, I could create an amazing following with reposting other people's hilarious shit from Facebook alone....try this one on for a smile and giggle...seen on a wall of a friend of my husband's...."Men say, why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free....Women say, why by the pig for such a little sausage."

If you didn't laugh your ass off at that one or deem it worthy enough to share then you need to stop reading this, subscribing to this, and be ashamed that even if you don't curse or say blasphemous things,   you have to admit shit like that makes you laugh...and the good laugh from the toes to the belly....

I could write stuff about all the FANTASTIC and BRILLIANT minds out there that I am honored to have held an audience with...from the great buddy, Rob, who pushed me along with my BBF (Best Bitch Forever) Danielle to a young singing sensation I used to babysit way back in the day at 5...who's now 19 and still rocking with a kick ass voice....to even my lech of an old man, my step-father, John, who will be making his first appearance on radio on Bayou City Conjure Radio@LiveLocalHouston.com tonight from 7-9pm to talk about his oil guru magic....for those of you who don't already know, he's Pagan, manages the Magick Cauldron...and makes a mean ass green chicken curry I so used to love....

So if you were in my shoes, what you would entice and engage your readers with? Or are you like me, and really don't give a crap because this is your blog and they don't have to read it if they don't want? Or should I remember its all of you that keep me motivated...that keep me hopeful....that make me look forward to getting up in the morning...because it makes me feel validated....makes me tingle with warm fuzzies that people care what I have to say....or type....

I feel my terrorist stirring and need to move quick to avoid catastrophe.....or another homemade attempt at a water bed.....I bid you a great day in spite of the horrible furious weather we have in store....make it worth while....or at the least worth someone blogging about....

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Freudian Dreams of the X-rated kind

Its 5:45 am again...and feels exactly like yesterday. Perhaps I need to go back to bed and then re-awake to see if its me or maybe just the day? I don't know, but either way if this is how the day is going to start out I need to make sure I put my big girl panties on to face this Titillating Tuesday...(like my attempt at alliteration there? I couldn't think of a curse word that started with 'T')

aw schucks...I shouldn't be so negative right out of the gate when I have been so positive, but I am tired from a rather odd night where I had rather disturbing dreams....and now am sitting in the dark analyzing what it means...as if this is going to change the fact somehow I had the dream in the first place..

Let me start out by saying I am happily happily happily married....as happily as someone can be who chose to put up with a person who leaves the toilet seat up so at 3 am you fall in (which coincides with using the last of the roll and not replacing it), who has some anal retentive way he likes his shirts folded so won't let me touch his laundry....wait, scratch that, that's a good thing, one less thing left on my to-do list.  A person who hasn't ever been in a relationship long enough until now to understand "fine, dear, everything's fine" is code for "why don't you fucking figure out what you did wrong before my foot meets your ass or you take a temporary vacation to the island of the couch?" 

No...I am happily married because it's all these things I can laugh about as I annoy him with rubbing my feet against his at night for warmth (which drives him insane in the membrane! love it) and he's understanding enough to see my crazy rants and diatribes for what they are...creativity untamed....

So you can understand why having a dream where I appeared as Kim Kardashian having sex with a stranger is over the top in curse words alarming! I mean WTF?????   Somehow I went from dreaming about being pregnant with a 3rd child, which scared me like no get out because Max wasn't even out of diapers, but then it montages into me and a stranger having sex, and I get a glimpse at myself in the mirror above us (why is that the case in dream sequences like this? like its standard to have a rotating bed, mirrors and a bow-chicka-bow-bow playing in the background) and I am KIM FUCKING WHORE KARDASHIAN!!!!! I mean come on people! At this moment I wake up covered in a chilling sweat and realize I have no idea what the hell I realize, what this means or should I even mention it to my husband without him asking me why I'm thinking about a 3rd kid when we've barely made it to the 2 year marker on this one?

It wasn't due to consumption of spicy food because I had a plant meal for dinner-think I am going to stick with this whole herbivore thing-and so does this mean I watched something shortly before bed that was retained in my consciousness that then made a starring appearance in my dreams? But I don't watch anything with her in it nor do I even watch the E! network since they stopped running True Hollywood stories of people like Robert Downey, Jr. and replaced them with Katy Perry and Justin Beiber (come on, how much of a 'True Hollywood' story can you have even if you still claim to be a virgin and we all know Selena Gomez is shagging what looks like a 14 year old girl)...

So I guess that leaves me....with nothing unless it's some fucked up way of telling me I have some subconscious desire...and not specifically a sexual desire, but a desire to just not be me for a day.   Why my brain chose to relay this message is such a graphically disturbing  way complete with shameful character casting I will never know...but that's the message...I think. At least its the safest one to deduce that won't later equate another divorce...so given that, how do I SAFELY and NON SLUT like choose to , well, not be me for a day??? How do any of us try not to be us for a day?

I mean let's face it...I am not some prize winning thoroughbred, but I could win a pie eating contest and that ain't so bad...it's still a ribbon or trophy...or a gift certificate to Luby's .   So I'm different and have a bitch streak that few have honed as a craft such as I, but is it that bad being me?  What would I change?

If I had to think about it the obvious shouldn't come as a shocker with the desire to  not having to report to my cramped cubicle, not having to do laundry...wait, scratch that. I pay the laundry mat $.80/lb to wash and fold it...so I'd be cheating is I said I did it myself (and I am not a lazy bitch...it makes me a frugal multi-tasker to save to mark that off my to-do list by delegating)...I would however give anything not to have to clean up the strewn Tonka trucks every night only to find them back spread out over the expanse of the living room within hours of him waking...or to take something longer than a 5 minute shower for fear the kids will kill each other or the dog or both in that time span...or to go to the bathroom with the door closed...and no little person visiting me, whining about what we made for dinner or another one bringing me actions figures of Elmo on the pot....

If you had the opportunity to not be you for a day, what would you do? I hope not star in your own porno film as a Kardashian...she already has one selling like hot cakes down at the Megaplex anyway...let's not fuel their empire of trash....no, seriously, what would you do if given the chance?  Handed to you on a silver platter, not to be you? Or do something completely unlike you? How many of us are content and satisfied enough in ourselves to pass that up? 

Or is that we just never get that chance and it was safer to come out in my dream if even albeit in a crude, vulgar and horrible shameful way?

Who knows. Hopefully, I won't have any NC17-rated daydreams at work, and if I do...well, I think I will program a marriage counselor on speed dial just in case....or my divorce lawyer...

Here's to more dreams of changing diapers because I would take those over the nightmares of the alternative any day.....just don't tell my husband I have baby fever....




Monday, January 23, 2012

Hell awaits with a quarter pounder and no map

It's a little later than my planned nooner, but we all know how it goes when you have plans...inevitable something or someone happens and its all mucked up....or pushed to a little later...or never...

anyway-back to me. and my predicament about meat and my soul searching trip down Nirvana lane...It's as if it I made it onto the right path, but haven't figured out how to quite work my compass to find where to setup camp....

I made it past these 21 days, and have to say the end was somewhat anti climatic for me...its not as if I am entirely naive or ridiculously moronic when thinking I should have felt something....anything...its just, don't we usually feel some sort of elation when accomplishing things...maybe a rush of endorphins or a heart palpitation...something?????   I just..well I guess that's the problem. I didn't feel. I acted. I moved through the motions of this diet and the physical changes I have found and did not put too much emphasis on what i was feeling inside that blackened dry thing I call a heart....

So what did I feel or feel now when forcing myself to evaluate? I feel more peace...more settled...more calm if that's possible for someone who can over analyze an email to the point where "come see me" is now an angry boss with a cardboard box with all my shit off my desk and everyone eavesdropping,  snickering in the hallway...when its really about something so mundane as my W-2.....

I feel...I FEEL. That's the point really....I feel something which I haven't in a long time and that's pride in myself....I feel motivated to make myself worth knowing, worth loving, worth being...not just another oxygen thief this country has enough of....I feel I want to be remembered....Remembered for something if even for completing some hippy diet or penning some irreverent (new fav word for the next few days...) and crass blog...

So do I continue this journey and see where it takes me even if its days of hiking, days with no direction....? Or do I stop and go back to meat...and thus my life before when I feel, I know I wasn't worth knowing?

Where am I going with this circular rant you ask? Well, I'll tell you....after 21 days I feel petrified and completely scared shit less to go back to meat....I can make a concession to eating dairy to some extent, but even that feels like cheating the cows and chickens we rob of yummy goodness...so I am stuck at a crossroads and wondering if I continue down this road of another 21 days what will become of me? Will I revert back to oxygen thief mode and pray that no one notices or realizes I am a blank? Or will I suck it up, stopping being a little bitch, and realize I wasn't so bad to begin with? Besides how fucking crazy must I be to think a diet changes me that dramatically...or is that I so desperately want it to?

A friend passed something onto me this morning and I look at it now and can hope, pray (chant for those more spiritual and less into organization) that whatever path I choose to take doesn't make me see the gates of Hell approaching any sooner....and makes me worth talking about even after I am dust..or kitty litter depending on my kids preference at the time.



Taking a cue from the Bangles this morning

It's 5:45 am and I sit here in a completely SILENT house and I am silently running through all the things I HAVE to do today and then start daydreaming about all the things I WANT to do today....do any of you ever have that feeling that we buy too much into the whole frazzled Monday where everything won't go our way? That this is the day its all piled on?
    
Everyone stop and if you managed to make it through the weekend to this wonderful soon-to-be manic Monday give yourself a pat on the back....hopefully your weekend was spent doing something awfully productive like saving abandoned kittens from trees, feeding orphans or finding cures for cancer....wait..who am I kidding? It's difficult enough just trying to balance and finish the things we already have on our plate without attempting to save the whole planet...and who gave us that damn big a serving any way?

oh-that's right....ourselves...sometimes our own worse enemies...sabotaging our success before we even start the race. Or picking some winding, mountainous trek through the Himalayas as our "beginner" level track as if this is some speed racer game in an arcade, when let's face it, some of our lives more resemble a  poorly scripted version of Grand Theft Auto minus the pimps, ho's, and emphasis on ethnicity (or the pimps and ho's are our kids or neighbors...its a complicated world man)...so how do we try and make the things we wish to achieve more manageable without straying from the whole hearted wholesome goodness of being unselfish in our actions (christ...this is starting to sound like a PSA announcement or worse...an ad for LDS...) and still keepin' it real?? (that's that Grand Theft Auto for ya')


Start small and dream big....every baby step is progress and leads to great things...eventually....it's not like Neil Armstrong came haulin' ass out onto the moon, taking gigantic leaps...shit, he even said "one small step for man, one giant step for mankind"..course, don't over analyze the fact that this is grammatically incorrect because man and mankind mean the same friggin thing...but I think you see the gist of what I am saying....

I can sound completely righteous and indignant and remind you saving the planet starts with things like recycling (does my grandmother saving every empty butter container for Tupperware count? because when she died we ended up with the largest collection since someone on Hoarders..), carpooling, energy conservation, anything and everything in reducing our carbon footprint before we start picking things off the Nobel or humanitarian list...but what am I saying...Nobel's are handed out like Skittles nowadays, and what constitutes a humanitarian list of good deeds? I don't think saving kittens from trees or feeding orphans is high on that list...unless you're Angelina Jolie and can just adopt them and the kittens...

no, realistically things like that for some of us is making sure the orphans of this country aren't running around stuffing those kittens in the trees to begin with because they were burned with cigarettes or called stupid one too many times...its things like the 300 lb sixth grader diagnosed with diabetes...or the crazy mom who drowned her kids when she should have just been sterilized from the beginning...or had the guts to tell her husband no more.....or the signs advertising your very own neighborhood landfill because we are running out of space everywhere else...ok, so maybe that one thing on the list can go back to the baby steps of recycling and all that jazz, but where do we start on the rest?

Start this manic Monday by making it not so manic, and picking one thing you can follow through on without setting yourself up for failure that will improve our quality of life, those around you or just you if you're that goddamn selfish and make it count! Whether its vowing to kill that one miserable asshole at work with kindness (cuz remember...if they're were assholes Friday they'll be assholes Monday)....or starting a recycling bin at work...or if there is already one, remembering its for RECYCLING and not just anything you don't feel is worth lifting the lid of the trash can....reuse your paper clips or keep the ones that recirculate at work and hoard them rather then reorder....walk to a nearby place for lunch..you might run into a kitten that needs saving and then you will have taken 2 big baby steps..

Or for those of you slackers without jobs...try volunteering somewhere...or going through your closet and donating anything you haven't worn in 6 months to charity...or a family or person who doesn't get paid enough to constantly order shit off Ebay, Etsy or run to the nearest mall...

Fuck, let's all try and do something productive today for the benefit of someone other than ourselves...that's all I am aiming for...set the bar low and its easier to accomplish it I always say....

My goal's to do something good today...I won't specify what on the freak off chance I run into Angelina Jolie and get invited to help aid in any of her causes which will elevate my status form wannabe tree hugger mamma to full blown philanthropist....but on the off chance it doesn't happen I am going to keep my options open so I don't create disappointment in myself or you...

And for those of you who give a shit...I made in through the full 21 days, feel better than ever, and am going to continue for another 21....just to see what happens....at noon today I will be posting a discussion on my flirtation and subsequent body numbing fear of eating meat...comments are appreciated...


Sunday, January 22, 2012

Life Interrupted....by a not so Sunday and a case of the farts

In contrast to yesterday, I am sitting in the dark at 6:30 am with Madd Maxx who has a tummy ache and gas watching Kung Fu Panda 2 for the umpteenth time when I would have loved more than nothing than to be finishing the last book I downloaded to Charlotte's Kindle...from two months ago.... and I am reminded that life isn't always how we plan it, no matter how hard I try....Lazy Sunday will now be more laundry, a trip to the zoo and hopefully a nap from both my hellions so I can catch a moment to breath....

I cannot even begin to tell you how many times I have mapped out plans for life only to have a wrench thrown in them in the form of a nasty little habit which landed me in NA, a poor choice in dating, a bipolar ex-husband, a single mother trying her hand at college only to take on husband number 2, and then baby number 2.....to put college on hold for that J-O-B we all so despise... wait. Let me stop there because it sounds more like this is turning into a pity fest with wads of tissues and lame ass excuses as to why I haven't finished yet another thing I started...

Let me say I chose to put school on hold for the sake of my sanity....because right now juggling everything on my plate I would in no way focus on making the stellar grades I once did in the past..because I felt it slipping away for the sake of everything else, and need a moment to step back so  I could focus on motherhood and have learned I'm not entirely successful at that either...what can I say, its that whole unrealistic expectations thing...making plans that seem ridiculously impossible..I will go back...its just a matter of time...and I am feeling that 7 year itch so I know its soon...

so I set out this year to forgo plans or rather reduce them to nothing above a certain caliber...I am going to take charge of my destiny, my life, hell the overweight, greying slob I have become and whip my own ass into shape, and take charge of what remains of my life today....but in such a way I can actually succeed and check this off as done on my to do list....

a wise great man once said "Assume responsibility"...hell, it's even available on t-shirt from Cafe Press and permeated in the brains of numerous clueless students who left his class at semester's end a little more confident and a little more focused and informed on who they could be, who they were and where they were going.....I say a little because sadly sometimes there would be that one who proved even hopeless for someone as influential as him.   What started as a degree requirement turned out to be better than the $125/hr therapy I was getting twice a week in West U....I managed to tap into a part of myself and my brain I never used or even thought of using and touching onto topics I have only ever explored in my wildest dreams...or doodles on paper....

Finally there was a method to the craziness that has been churning in my head all these years, to draw on all the fucked up things I seen, experienced, and done...in one semester he showed me I had something so much bigger in me than what I thought, and that now when I spoke, when I wrote, someone was listening....most of all he taught me that if I wrote something worth a shit, then I was a shit worth listening to....and this resonates with me now, sitting in bed next to my gaseous 2 year old, and I feel just a little better about myself today...it makes me eternally grateful I took his class in the first place...and motivated that much more to show him his time, his guidance, his faith in me and my writing was not a waste, and that I will show everyone one day what is in me, what I am capable of....just as soon as I know what that is...

As for someone who I know has found the path that Aimone so gently guided him to explore in himself, check out his series of plays on YouTube...this man is going somewhere even if he doesn't know the destination....I'm serious...I secretly aspired to be him when we were in class together and personally saw him as one of my competition to try and out write....if something like that could had even been possible...so here's his linkhttp://www.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fplaylist%3Flist%3DPL4CB0675AABF381C8%26feature%3Dviewall&h=sAQFzmU7L-this is a shout out to Rob, my #1 fan !  (inside joke....wouldn't that be damn sanctimonious of me to put that after I came off as posting some self degradation -what a bitch I'd be, right?)


Well...my little spitfire ball of farts and now giggles is requesting pancakes, so I have to rise and face today...today which on a quick note is my 21st day of my vegan kick...which I am thinking of continuing simply out of the fear of wrapping my head around having to go back to eating meat....but that's a post for another time...

Back to this not so lazy Sunday and all I am going to make it offer me....or I'll threaten it with leaving the 2 year old behind....













Saturday, January 21, 2012

Dazed and confused...until I found clarity

Today we woke up to the foggy overcast smog filled skies of Houston and I rolled over and didn't want to get back out of bed...can you blame me? That description alone of the weather is enough to have an adverse effect on anyone mildly melancholy....and while I am not much, I do feel the desire pulling me back under the covers because it feels like a gray lazy Sunday and not a Saturday....

But alas, I have too much shit to do today and cannot let something like that have any bearing on the endless to do list I have stuffed in my pocket....so it is with this mindset, and a little mantra a la the Little Engine, that I usher my kiddos out the door at 7:30am, bright eyed and bushy tailed, on the road yet again to Waller...I feel like I need to make that my theme song because it seems like I spend half my life in the car as do my children...and I know I read some study somewhere that this exponentially multiplies dependent on the number of household members and activities...suffice to say that 2 children and the lack of committal from my daughter to just about anything gives me hope there is a light at the end of the tunnel....

But how many of us spend our lives like this? I mean if I had to add up the weekends I didn't have to drive, travel (code for I make my husband drive) or show up somewhere at the crack of dawn, puffy eyed, caffeine jolted, I could use one hand...and that's while giving the middle finger at the 18 wheeler who cut me off 290 too.....

How does this allow me the time, the dedication to improve upon myself as well as work on my writing, my pursuits, my hair...a pedicure or finishing the US Weekly I am not ashamed to say I purchased when the kids weren't looking at CVS because who doesn't need a good trash mag to escape reality???

So-I am protesting from here on out giving up my Saturdays to ass numbing rides in the wagon to far off places, frantic trips poorly planned when you realize you have 3 diapers and no Walmart or Target in site, whining kids who pay attention to the electronic distractions or noses buried in books versus hanging out the window like a Golden Lab, soaking in the wind in their face and the landscape passing them by.....of course realize I mean this in the metaphorical sense of missed opportunities and hope CPS doesn't read this and think I let my kids hang out car windows...

I steal a quotation from one of the most inspiring movies in my household....Pixar's Cars, and it goes something like this..."Cars didn't drive on it to make great time...they drove on it to have a great time." Well shit, all those cars are filled with people, and those people are rushing , rushing, rushing and missing out on some many other things... how many Ernest Hemingways or John Lennon's are wasting any free time they could be creating or exploring life when they have their brows furrowed on another level of Zelda or trying to watch for Exit 97A?

So I have made a pact with myself to leave my Saturday mornings free to mornings walks, sitting on the patio with a smoothie, sock puppets and of course, streams of new ideas I vow to finally put to paper...which will hopefully take fruition here in the near future...

I bid you adieu and tell you to check out a friend of mine, one of the original classmates from lectures with the awe inspiring Joe, and see what he's managing to accomplish with all that extra time NOT sitting on his keester driving somewhere...http://www.youtube.com/user/MrStraycat7.   Talk about a person whose height and substance of literary work I aspire to achieve...and I ain't just saying that because he likes my writing too....just check it out and see for yourself.....

Back to my muggy Saturday/Sunday and here's to hoping the sun starts peeking out soon....

Friday, January 20, 2012

Matches

You are yellow.

A burning, fiery white hot yellow that is blindingly pure and leaves me mesmerized. It’s sometimes as if everything you touch is set on fire, a sweeping flame blown by the Santa Ana’s and I find myself standing as far back as I can to avoid the licking flames, fear of myself being consumed.  And all I can do is watch you burn until there is nothing but ashes and it is my job to scoop them up. I scoop them up and I scatter them to the earth and I pray. Pray for the day your flame no longer consumes but ignites, for the day I can touch the flames without being burned.

From the moment the life you are came spilling out of me I knew. I knew then you were dangerous. And I was right.  Tearing out my heart and giving me a soul, in that moment you took your first breath a match was lit and there was no extinguishing its glow….the years have found us both standing side by side, but with this space, a gush of wind blowing away the words we wish we could take back, the things left unspoken, and I reach for your hand and pull back singed fingers. The tips barely graze and you run, and then you are gone.

I have chased you through the years, through the fires set, from house to house, the walls burning and pulsing with the lives we have started and shed…everyone has come and gone and here we stand, waiting for the last embers to die out, and I cannot stop the tears. Tears I spill for the divide that becomes greater and greater between us because he isn’t who he promised you he’d be…because I am not who you want me to be…because you fight what you are becoming.  A river that flows and weaves a trail between the raging crackling sparks, and yet fails to cross paths, fails to douse the destruction that is you…


I fail to rein you in, my sweet sweet girl, fail to catch you, and the day has now come when you have consumed everything in your path except me…and I feel the licking flames creeping, stretching across wide open space, and I close my eyes and I stand. I stand, hands in air, as the burning heat can be felt against my neck, the palms of my hands, the wind catching and teasing the strands of singeing hair and my tears are eternally dry, and I realize that it isn’t you I am chasing, but a version of my former self, and I fear there is no end to the damage we can both do. In that moment I grasp your hand and we stand in the center, burning as bright as the sun, and I open my eyes. And I see you for what you are. And it makes me love you that much more.

Yellow. You will always be yellow.