Today is ridiculously close to being over, and what's worse is that when this post finally makes it will get lost among on the twating and tweeting of pictures of people's fucking lunches...like who seriously cares if you had a Caesar salad...it's still a fucking salad....or pathetic gurgles of immature bullshit life updates which constitute the lives lived of teenagers masquerading as adults...like the new shoes you bought or how many shots you took last night before crawling into work with a hangover or whether or not your secret crush will call you....who the hell has the time to sit by the phone and wait and what's more moronic is who the hell posts that shit when they know damn well this "special someone" is on your friends list and will read that and then block you....
Do I sound negative and pissed to you? Well I fucking am....that's the f bomb 3 times in less than 5 minutes of typing...does it really count if I add the 'ing'? Because if not then I might just have to drop it a few more times in what today is going to be a rant.....no musings, no mindlessness...just a full on pissed-off-gonna-take-someone-out-with-me rant.
Its 11, no scratch that, 10 years of trying to reverse a crap load of mistakes...or poor choices or whatever euphemisms I can think of.....its 10 years of trying to right all the wrongs of one fucked up year, and not managing to get it right....its trying so hard to do the "right" thing that I realize why the hell I did the wrong thing to begin with...its realizing that defeat is an option if you're up against a white educated affluent male with loads of daddy and mommy's money and a pitiful story to tell the presses...
so there's the headline for today! Poor oppressed white male being bullied by evil ex wife! The horror of it all! God forbid the press slows their roll before it comes hot off the press, and does some fact checking to see that no amount of whining and boo hooing will make up for the malcontent surrounding a situation that amounts to a very very very very very very (is that enough emphasizing) lazy person who lacks the self discipline to be a better person...and if not for himself, then his child....
And who says I'm asking for world peace or to end global warming or feed the starving masses or better yet come up with a financial solution for the U.S. deficit? All I'm asking for is that you put down the pipe, and step back so that you be a better person, be a better father....don't sit there in your $100 hunting boots, texting on your Droid X2, with your spoiled little smirk and claim you're put upon and broke, starving and destitute....
Haul your bony useless ass down to the VA, Star of Hope, the fucking Texas Workforce Commission and show me put upon, show me the faces of those who truly are destitute....hell, lets see how well it goes over with your lily white ass applying for food stamps....see how many sympathizers you have then....
It's not entirely impossible to change, to pull yourself up out of the deep.....to make even the slightest smidgen of an effort to right wrongs, to change the course of what is your life....
I am a living, breathing, walking, cursing, stumbling, misshapen and frumpy proof of what it means to turn your life around....I spent the first year out of high school do anything and everything to prove I could do what I wanted when I wanted....and all I ended up with was a hole in my septum, a turbulent past scattered with skeletons and bodies and wreckage, a headache worrying and obsessing about what I would have done differently, but most of all I ended up with a blonde a little tiny 4 foot and change person to remind me that all that doesn't mean shit if I can prove I can change....
A eye rolling, huffing puffing little dwarf who tries my patience to no end and sometimes makes me want to invest in a muzzle...or ear muffs so I cannot hear the incessant nagging and bitching and moaning for the normal tween wants and growing pains...but who reminds me with that surprising out of left field hug or notes left on my computer monitor at work or that once and a while kiss in public that its all in what I do now, today, not yesterday that will make my future....that I cannot change what I did, but what I am doing....
And it may not always be easy, and it may give me 5 grey hairs a month, and be awkward moments when you bump into someone from your past who you cannot remember their name....but you know where every tattoo is....or it can be at that high school reunion when you're the only one that doesn't have a business card to pass out...and the ones you paid to have printed to pass out for free lunch giveaways don't cut it....or the pregnant pause when your mom's telling a story and everyone averts their eyes because its during a time when you were too drunk or high or lazy to come home...except for money and groceries...and you laugh and make a joke at your own expense and break the silence....
It sucks, I ain't gonna lie. Its fucking heart wrenching Oprah's couch story stuff....but its life. And I managed to get a hold of mine and do everything I possibly can to make it better short of winning the lottery or murdering unnamed persons of interest that can make it the best it can be.....
And that's all I desperately want , is the best for my child...I want anything and everything I can and cannot give her, and I will work my fingers to the bone, I will bleed out my soul, heart and spirit in this life and the next to ensure she has a better quality of life, and that she does more with it than I ever did.....I don't want to fast forward 20 years from now and find her exercising her stream of consciousness and creativity and talent as a blog on the Internet that less people have read than the Day Glo Snookie's book....
I want more for her and he doesn't. That's the simple, honest, chauvinistic truth. If she were a boy, he'd want to give him the sun and moon in the form of duck hunting, tractor pulls and football....because she has ovaries and the 50/50 chance of being as much of a cunt as me....and yes I said it because I know what I am and am proud...and besides, it didn't start out as a bad word...
What scares him so much that he continues this charade that he needs or wants her is the possibility she may not need or want him....
Is is that easy to realize that those who bear us, share DNA, whatever, may be our undoing? That sometimes not everyone is willing to die for their children, to maim for their children, to fight for their children...that a lifetime, a person can come undone, break, wasting so much energy caring for someone who can never properly love them back?
I speak from years of experience of daddy drama and can tell you I don't want that for her. Thus I take the road of malcontent, complete with outrageous legal fees, hundreds of miles to Podunk counties of good ole boys, and the slamming of doors with scathing whispers of "i hate you mom" for as long as I have to......because that white picket fence, that little split level home, with 2 parents who give a shit, 2.5 brothers or sisters, the dog in the yard....
I want her to have a COMPLETE and WHOLE home....
But what happens when in the end when we realize we can never go home when we never knew where home really was....except court appointed supervisors, and Jack in the Box parking lots, and car rides after car rides with our bear tucked under our arm, bitter screams of he said, she said and mommy locked in the bathroom sobbing like a mad woman......
Today was hard to swallow and not in a Debbie Does Dallas or the Red Door kinda of way.....its a hot, stinging sensation of humility, pride, despair and the realization that good doesn't always triumph over evil, the hooker doesn't always get Gere, and sometimes the puppy still gets shot in the end....
And I am not fully prepared to digest that or accept it....
so I leave on the note that while defeat came close to kicking my ass today, and it only cost me $599 to avoid it, I have to hold out hope that everything I do, everything I know to be right will someday make a difference, and pray with all my might that he will change...he will see the fucking light at the end of the tunnel...and stop running when he realizes it isn't me trying to mow him down...
....and if it doesn't....well fuck...I am not above beating him with a baseball bat or pouring rotten sour milk in the A/C vents of his car...ok, I am because I don't need a criminal record at my age, and orange is NOT on my color wheel, but you get the gist..
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
Ducks who think they're chickens, Oreos, and invisible pants...
Today started out like every other day....a scatter brained attempt at having my ducks in a row...and instead they're all spread out, running around like chickens with heads cut off and screeching at the top of their lungs like they're gonna be made in to pate...and are too stupid to realize that's goose...
Any way...me and my ducks were all ready to go last night for today....I went down my list at 6:00 pm:
* clean clothes laid out (and back up because my kid pulled the water bed trick at school)
* lunches made and in fridge sans PB....apparently A LOT of kids have allergies...
* homework done, planners signed
* Valentine's filled out and done for each kiddo
* dinner on table with minimal bitching about menu choice
And I even had time to enjoy a good read with the Shark and some kids on some Magic bus before turning in with the Silver Hammer and his Max the Minnow book...good read by the way with awesome googly eyeballs....
Anyway-then this morning at 6:30 am a wrench was thrown in the form of the forgotten dry cleaning I had agreed to take, the 30 minute shower I took because I had to shave my legs to the knees...only to try on 2 pairs of pants and finally decide on a dress that falls to my ankles...but that was AFTER I ran out to the bus in torn pj pants I jacked from my step dad when pregnant with Max and a fleece shirt I stole from my husband on the way out the door because it was baggy enough to hide the fact I hadn't quite put on the 18 hour bra yet and as to not horrify, blind and scar the other children at the bus stop....or embarrass Charlotte, but that's at the very bottom because somehow, someway I manage to most of the time....and it isn't always intentional...
So following a 20 minute wait and argument with the cleaners about how neurotic it sounds, but yes its true my husband wants extra starch and stiff creases in ALL his shirts and pants....I was off again to face the 2nd day of school and the inevitable kung fu death grip of the neck......granted its terribly unfair and delusional to think he would handle it like a trooper....but some part of me held out hope he'd take it like a champ and roll with the punches....only all he managed to do was deal a death defying punch to my heart.
Which was only further complicated by the slick fast one I pulled when releasing him with his class on the playground and ducking for cover while making a beeline for the gate....Am I horrible parent that I am SO THANKFUL I managed to get in the car and drive away without hearing his screams???
Maybe I am because the next thing you know I was screaming FUCK at the top of my lungs when I got caught by the train on TC Jester.....another reason to avoid living in the Washington Corridor....besides the glaringly apparent I can't afford a house in the Heights....
To make it to work where my stack of shit to do and haven't gotten to has grown in size...at least 5 times since I left late last night.....and now I'm stuck thinking about the big to-do list I have to start on for not only work, but more crap at home....and I wonder to myself will I ever get a breather...a break...a chance to just sit and enjoy a moment to myself....and then I resolve to the fact that those moments are the ones I spend on the porcelain throne or lying to my husband and telling him I took 30 minutes in the shower because I shaved my legs...only to be caught and called Chewbacca in bed...or when I drive to work those last 10 minutes alone and can tune up the volume on whatever jam I need to get me in the groove for that morning...
So I can blow those ducks away all in a row, and make sure I tackle another day....but what do I do when the day has already gotten away from me? This seems to be that piss poor management of time I have an intsy bitty issue with.....Do I yell at the kids who cannot feed, dress or take themselves to school when they can't even reach the peddles? Do I scream and bitch out the husband to take his own goddamn dry cleaning when I know he's got to be at work at 5 am to open and Shelton's doesn't open until 7? Do I yell at the cat because he needs to scoop his own litter box?
Hell, if I could juggle all those arguments I would, but the fact still remains I am the mom, I am the female who whether he likes to admit it or not, wears the imaginary pants of the home....I let him think he does because its easier than arguing round and round that he wouldn't survive one day in my shoes or juggle all that I do even if I do it rather poorly....and messy...and with no bras and scraggly hair...
And I am reminded even more of this as we move closer and closer to Valentine's Day which means jack squat when you have kids especially a toddler...except that instead of the $9 bottle of wine, he swings for the $20 and a package of Oreos.....and he agrees to get them ready for bed...which is translation for no baths, mismatched pj bottoms and her hair stuck up in a failed attempt at a braid...or bun? I cannot ever tell with him...
Compound that by the wedding anniversary we have looming in March and I stare in wonderment at my screen as I type this because I cannot believe he put up with my bullshit as long as he has...and now for almost another year which counts exponentially more than the previous 3.5 in sin because he's legally bound and cannot escape without the mess and stinging of paperwork, courts and me driving away in the Passat...it's only fair because I look better behind the wheel.....
So I saw this when I got to work from my step dad and had to chuckle....because I wonder if this is the "magic", if this is the something that makes our survival successful...
or it could be the lack of sleep and wet beds that make us too goddamn tired to do anything but surrender to this life....but damn if we don't share a hell of a lot of laughs, tears and fights....while laying on our brand new rubber sheets drinking $20 straight from the bottle, surrounded my Oreo crumbs....and I smile because I know I cannot be that bad a wife, that bad a mom, that bad a duck rower liner upper thing if someone is willing to put up with ALL that...and still share the cream filling....
So what are you doing for that special ovary in your life this highly overated V-day?
Any way...me and my ducks were all ready to go last night for today....I went down my list at 6:00 pm:
* clean clothes laid out (and back up because my kid pulled the water bed trick at school)
* lunches made and in fridge sans PB....apparently A LOT of kids have allergies...
* homework done, planners signed
* Valentine's filled out and done for each kiddo
* dinner on table with minimal bitching about menu choice
And I even had time to enjoy a good read with the Shark and some kids on some Magic bus before turning in with the Silver Hammer and his Max the Minnow book...good read by the way with awesome googly eyeballs....
Anyway-then this morning at 6:30 am a wrench was thrown in the form of the forgotten dry cleaning I had agreed to take, the 30 minute shower I took because I had to shave my legs to the knees...only to try on 2 pairs of pants and finally decide on a dress that falls to my ankles...but that was AFTER I ran out to the bus in torn pj pants I jacked from my step dad when pregnant with Max and a fleece shirt I stole from my husband on the way out the door because it was baggy enough to hide the fact I hadn't quite put on the 18 hour bra yet and as to not horrify, blind and scar the other children at the bus stop....or embarrass Charlotte, but that's at the very bottom because somehow, someway I manage to most of the time....and it isn't always intentional...
So following a 20 minute wait and argument with the cleaners about how neurotic it sounds, but yes its true my husband wants extra starch and stiff creases in ALL his shirts and pants....I was off again to face the 2nd day of school and the inevitable kung fu death grip of the neck......granted its terribly unfair and delusional to think he would handle it like a trooper....but some part of me held out hope he'd take it like a champ and roll with the punches....only all he managed to do was deal a death defying punch to my heart.
Which was only further complicated by the slick fast one I pulled when releasing him with his class on the playground and ducking for cover while making a beeline for the gate....Am I horrible parent that I am SO THANKFUL I managed to get in the car and drive away without hearing his screams???
Maybe I am because the next thing you know I was screaming FUCK at the top of my lungs when I got caught by the train on TC Jester.....another reason to avoid living in the Washington Corridor....besides the glaringly apparent I can't afford a house in the Heights....
To make it to work where my stack of shit to do and haven't gotten to has grown in size...at least 5 times since I left late last night.....and now I'm stuck thinking about the big to-do list I have to start on for not only work, but more crap at home....and I wonder to myself will I ever get a breather...a break...a chance to just sit and enjoy a moment to myself....and then I resolve to the fact that those moments are the ones I spend on the porcelain throne or lying to my husband and telling him I took 30 minutes in the shower because I shaved my legs...only to be caught and called Chewbacca in bed...or when I drive to work those last 10 minutes alone and can tune up the volume on whatever jam I need to get me in the groove for that morning...
So I can blow those ducks away all in a row, and make sure I tackle another day....but what do I do when the day has already gotten away from me? This seems to be that piss poor management of time I have an intsy bitty issue with.....Do I yell at the kids who cannot feed, dress or take themselves to school when they can't even reach the peddles? Do I scream and bitch out the husband to take his own goddamn dry cleaning when I know he's got to be at work at 5 am to open and Shelton's doesn't open until 7? Do I yell at the cat because he needs to scoop his own litter box?
Hell, if I could juggle all those arguments I would, but the fact still remains I am the mom, I am the female who whether he likes to admit it or not, wears the imaginary pants of the home....I let him think he does because its easier than arguing round and round that he wouldn't survive one day in my shoes or juggle all that I do even if I do it rather poorly....and messy...and with no bras and scraggly hair...
And I am reminded even more of this as we move closer and closer to Valentine's Day which means jack squat when you have kids especially a toddler...except that instead of the $9 bottle of wine, he swings for the $20 and a package of Oreos.....and he agrees to get them ready for bed...which is translation for no baths, mismatched pj bottoms and her hair stuck up in a failed attempt at a braid...or bun? I cannot ever tell with him...
Compound that by the wedding anniversary we have looming in March and I stare in wonderment at my screen as I type this because I cannot believe he put up with my bullshit as long as he has...and now for almost another year which counts exponentially more than the previous 3.5 in sin because he's legally bound and cannot escape without the mess and stinging of paperwork, courts and me driving away in the Passat...it's only fair because I look better behind the wheel.....
So I saw this when I got to work from my step dad and had to chuckle....because I wonder if this is the "magic", if this is the something that makes our survival successful...
or it could be the lack of sleep and wet beds that make us too goddamn tired to do anything but surrender to this life....but damn if we don't share a hell of a lot of laughs, tears and fights....while laying on our brand new rubber sheets drinking $20 straight from the bottle, surrounded my Oreo crumbs....and I smile because I know I cannot be that bad a wife, that bad a mom, that bad a duck rower liner upper thing if someone is willing to put up with ALL that...and still share the cream filling....
So what are you doing for that special ovary in your life this highly overated V-day?
Monday, February 6, 2012
18 hour bras supporting my sanity...
This past weekend was blah...kind of a nothing worth writing about because I really didn't manage to accomplish anything at all....just a skid mark in the pants that is my life...
So what pray tell did I do with my time that left such a stinky awfully brown stain? Saturday started out with me and my pimp slapping arm and hand rightfully sore, along with a defeated sense of letdown because I failed to accomplish the one thing I had promised a good friend I would do....and not from lack of time, or lack of effort....just a plain fucking lack of having anything worth writing....It's as if I need to rely on prompts to make anything I write worth reading, and even something as simple as a cover letter has proved to be a feat even I cannot accomplish....
And thus there I was Saturday, in the pouring rain and breezy cold, sitting at my mother's chowing down on some delicious cheese dip and chips and mooching some t.v. time, officially headed into the land of fucking off, and leaving behind the world of damn confident and productive....maybe it was the weather, maybe it was failure, maybe it was the 5 loads of laundry I was too lazy to drive to the laundry mat, and instead chose to actually wash myself for once....only to be reminded why the hell I hate washing and folding laundry to begin with!
So there I sat, vegging, stealing O2 along with my taxable dependents on my mother's couch for an entire day...venturing out just long enough to round of the last minute items for the Maxx's first day of official big boy school....and I was so lazy I didn't even have the ah-ha moment where you cry and breakdown because you realize they're growing up etc etc that I had with Sharkie.....it was just a Christ-I-have-to-label-this-shit with-permanent-marker-frown, and a rushed shopping list of last minute lunch items I didn't get around to buying until Sunday nite sans kiddos and husband.
At the Blue Roof aka IHop we ended our soggy Saturday with omelette's and Mac and Cheese...and I went home to hope I would wake up in a better mood than Saturday....And hoping I get to wake up to my husband who poured himself into bed late from a Houston Zoo event...who told me last minute he was going to open the next morning also.....on a bitchy whiny side note, why is it that he gets the coolest jobs, really??? I mean first HOB and all the free concerts, Willie, B.B. and Hootie, and now cool swanky events with food and shit....I need to make sure I get a job like that in my second life...because Lord knows I'm pretty much screwed with the one I have now.....
Then I woke up to the same shitty weather as the rest of Houston and the better portion of the surrounding counties....and realized why I hate living in Texas sometimes...to second guess going to the zoo day we had planned, the store trip I had to make, and then the subsequent wrangling of the kiddos to baths and bed....hell, I didn't even have the emotional energy to want to get out of bed because I feared the Monday waiting for me, and another swollen hand from trying to bitch slap it....but alas, I get pokey finger in the eye, and an almost 9 year old actually acting less like Linda Blair and more like Hayley Mills, and I said fuck it, and hopped my ass out of bed....
granted I went sans bra in a ratty flannel and sweats, but I showered AND brushed my teeth....and scooted my big lard butt into the kitchen to whip up some eggnog French toast, eggs and juice....and after a delightful giggly breakfast complete with chortles and covert egg feeding of the cat, I decided these moody blues needed to stay what they were...an old person's concert with a bad ass band where people 50 and older found it acceptable to partake in some reefer....
No, I kicked those blues like a bad habit...ok, like some bad habits because I haven't been able to kick the f bomb or shit or anything vulgar or tacky...but I kicked the blues like a red-headed step child and decided to even put on some makeup, and decent clothes....and a BRA! I stood at the door like the Gestapo and the minute my hungover, sleep deprived husband who hit the door at 12:47 pm, I had him in the shower, clean clothes, and wagon and tote with snacks packed and on the road at 1:20 pm.....
and this time we didn't forget to load the kids.....so off we went to the zoo where for once we found parking near the front, and the kids got to take their times at each exhibit....granted we were all bundled up like Eskimos, and it meant no sno-cones or Dippin Dots....but it was an amazing outing all the same....
One that motivated me to do that last minute shopping, OCD-like label ALL of Maxx's stuff, and get it packed and organized for school and all of Shark's notes and planners signed, initialed and ready to go...clothes laid out and rooms clean....shit, I even made homemade pizza for dinner even!
With time to spare too....because I looked around and it was 8:16 pm and all my minions were asleep...and I had the whole TV to myself....and I had just enough time to catch half an episode of First 48 and I was out too.....
And thus the cycle started again, and at 6:00 am I was laying there this morning realizing it was the day...the day my son would start school, and all that money I felt like I was about to start hemorrhaging was about to pay off.....maybe he would make friends, maybe he would develop better articulation skills, maybe he would gain more structure and become more disciplined....Hell, I just lay there and hoped maybe he would stop beating his damn head....I cannot put him in a helmet until college....unless he plays football, but something tells me he's too short....but we'll see...
Fast forward through a highly productive morning complete with breakfasts, and kisses and hugs, and there we were taking the longest, hardest drive of my life....and it was at that moment after pulling every toy he could get his hands on, and he turned and saw me headed to the door that my heart skipped a beat with the start of his cries....which I could still hear 10 minutes later, down the winding hallway, past the front office...
No one can deny both my offspring inherited the family lungs....but the gushing of a river, the Hoover Dam cracking, and Niagra Falls commencing....none of it came.
And I sat there in my car, confused, scared, worrying does this mean I am cold hearted, am I indifferent? Or is that I am learning to cope with things better than I used to, and I can see the ups instead of just the downs? that I learned this weekend my survival is contingent on my ability to live, and my living needs to include not just the week, but everyday.....that I have to exert control over the weekdays and weekends before they get the best of me....and that everything can be accomplished if I have the right state of mind, the right pep in my step...and the right bottle of wine to sip on late at night after the house is hushed....
And the patience to accept that what I don't get to today will be there tomorrow. Hey, there's only 24 hrs in a day and a girl's got to have her beauty sleep, right? Ok, maybe not beauty because 20 minutes on my hair this morning and I still sit here looking like Medusa...but at least I have lipstick on.....
Any way-I guess its a lot like my attitude about work....What I don't get done today will still be sitting on my desk tomorrow....only at home its not a desk, but my 2 year old sitting on the kitchen table covered in markers which he's used like Picasso over the top and 3 chairs...its late nights with hot glue and feathers, cookie baking, and crusts cut off....and if I don't get to it today....well, it will be there tomorrow at 6 am, coming to poke me in the eye...yet again...
Here's to your poke in the eye today...and having the strength to live today complete with bra and all.
So what pray tell did I do with my time that left such a stinky awfully brown stain? Saturday started out with me and my pimp slapping arm and hand rightfully sore, along with a defeated sense of letdown because I failed to accomplish the one thing I had promised a good friend I would do....and not from lack of time, or lack of effort....just a plain fucking lack of having anything worth writing....It's as if I need to rely on prompts to make anything I write worth reading, and even something as simple as a cover letter has proved to be a feat even I cannot accomplish....
And thus there I was Saturday, in the pouring rain and breezy cold, sitting at my mother's chowing down on some delicious cheese dip and chips and mooching some t.v. time, officially headed into the land of fucking off, and leaving behind the world of damn confident and productive....maybe it was the weather, maybe it was failure, maybe it was the 5 loads of laundry I was too lazy to drive to the laundry mat, and instead chose to actually wash myself for once....only to be reminded why the hell I hate washing and folding laundry to begin with!
So there I sat, vegging, stealing O2 along with my taxable dependents on my mother's couch for an entire day...venturing out just long enough to round of the last minute items for the Maxx's first day of official big boy school....and I was so lazy I didn't even have the ah-ha moment where you cry and breakdown because you realize they're growing up etc etc that I had with Sharkie.....it was just a Christ-I-have-to-label-this-shit with-permanent-marker-frown, and a rushed shopping list of last minute lunch items I didn't get around to buying until Sunday nite sans kiddos and husband.
At the Blue Roof aka IHop we ended our soggy Saturday with omelette's and Mac and Cheese...and I went home to hope I would wake up in a better mood than Saturday....And hoping I get to wake up to my husband who poured himself into bed late from a Houston Zoo event...who told me last minute he was going to open the next morning also.....on a bitchy whiny side note, why is it that he gets the coolest jobs, really??? I mean first HOB and all the free concerts, Willie, B.B. and Hootie, and now cool swanky events with food and shit....I need to make sure I get a job like that in my second life...because Lord knows I'm pretty much screwed with the one I have now.....
Then I woke up to the same shitty weather as the rest of Houston and the better portion of the surrounding counties....and realized why I hate living in Texas sometimes...to second guess going to the zoo day we had planned, the store trip I had to make, and then the subsequent wrangling of the kiddos to baths and bed....hell, I didn't even have the emotional energy to want to get out of bed because I feared the Monday waiting for me, and another swollen hand from trying to bitch slap it....but alas, I get pokey finger in the eye, and an almost 9 year old actually acting less like Linda Blair and more like Hayley Mills, and I said fuck it, and hopped my ass out of bed....
granted I went sans bra in a ratty flannel and sweats, but I showered AND brushed my teeth....and scooted my big lard butt into the kitchen to whip up some eggnog French toast, eggs and juice....and after a delightful giggly breakfast complete with chortles and covert egg feeding of the cat, I decided these moody blues needed to stay what they were...an old person's concert with a bad ass band where people 50 and older found it acceptable to partake in some reefer....
No, I kicked those blues like a bad habit...ok, like some bad habits because I haven't been able to kick the f bomb or shit or anything vulgar or tacky...but I kicked the blues like a red-headed step child and decided to even put on some makeup, and decent clothes....and a BRA! I stood at the door like the Gestapo and the minute my hungover, sleep deprived husband who hit the door at 12:47 pm, I had him in the shower, clean clothes, and wagon and tote with snacks packed and on the road at 1:20 pm.....
and this time we didn't forget to load the kids.....so off we went to the zoo where for once we found parking near the front, and the kids got to take their times at each exhibit....granted we were all bundled up like Eskimos, and it meant no sno-cones or Dippin Dots....but it was an amazing outing all the same....
One that motivated me to do that last minute shopping, OCD-like label ALL of Maxx's stuff, and get it packed and organized for school and all of Shark's notes and planners signed, initialed and ready to go...clothes laid out and rooms clean....shit, I even made homemade pizza for dinner even!
With time to spare too....because I looked around and it was 8:16 pm and all my minions were asleep...and I had the whole TV to myself....and I had just enough time to catch half an episode of First 48 and I was out too.....
And thus the cycle started again, and at 6:00 am I was laying there this morning realizing it was the day...the day my son would start school, and all that money I felt like I was about to start hemorrhaging was about to pay off.....maybe he would make friends, maybe he would develop better articulation skills, maybe he would gain more structure and become more disciplined....Hell, I just lay there and hoped maybe he would stop beating his damn head....I cannot put him in a helmet until college....unless he plays football, but something tells me he's too short....but we'll see...
Fast forward through a highly productive morning complete with breakfasts, and kisses and hugs, and there we were taking the longest, hardest drive of my life....and it was at that moment after pulling every toy he could get his hands on, and he turned and saw me headed to the door that my heart skipped a beat with the start of his cries....which I could still hear 10 minutes later, down the winding hallway, past the front office...
No one can deny both my offspring inherited the family lungs....but the gushing of a river, the Hoover Dam cracking, and Niagra Falls commencing....none of it came.
And I sat there in my car, confused, scared, worrying does this mean I am cold hearted, am I indifferent? Or is that I am learning to cope with things better than I used to, and I can see the ups instead of just the downs? that I learned this weekend my survival is contingent on my ability to live, and my living needs to include not just the week, but everyday.....that I have to exert control over the weekdays and weekends before they get the best of me....and that everything can be accomplished if I have the right state of mind, the right pep in my step...and the right bottle of wine to sip on late at night after the house is hushed....
And the patience to accept that what I don't get to today will be there tomorrow. Hey, there's only 24 hrs in a day and a girl's got to have her beauty sleep, right? Ok, maybe not beauty because 20 minutes on my hair this morning and I still sit here looking like Medusa...but at least I have lipstick on.....
Any way-I guess its a lot like my attitude about work....What I don't get done today will still be sitting on my desk tomorrow....only at home its not a desk, but my 2 year old sitting on the kitchen table covered in markers which he's used like Picasso over the top and 3 chairs...its late nights with hot glue and feathers, cookie baking, and crusts cut off....and if I don't get to it today....well, it will be there tomorrow at 6 am, coming to poke me in the eye...yet again...
Here's to your poke in the eye today...and having the strength to live today complete with bra and all.
Friday, February 3, 2012
I'm the pimp and the days are my ho's
IT's FRIDAY FRIDAY FRIDAY FRIDAY!!!!! I was singing this chant as I danced around in my undies and t-shirt this morning....and regardless of the weather being ucky mucky moodle....(don't even know what the hell that word is, but it reminds me of puddles) I feel awesome! So awesome in fact I chose to forgo posting this earlier to have 20 more minutes of fist pumping and cart wheels.....
After shoving the Shark out of the car, cute and peppy and ready to tackle that spelling test and ace that math quiz, I blasted Sheryl's "Get Gone" and the Madd Maxx and I sped away on the freeway, bellowing out of tune at the top of our lungs about being from the South and Chevrolet's, and bursting into giggles as he tries to attempt to curl his lip Elvis style and nothing is going to burst my bubble today....
Not even getting stuck in traffic at the intersection at Ella and 610 where they seem to have been doing repairs for the last 2 years, and then even after I watched my little boy waive goodbye to me, stealing my heart, did I lose my pep.....because I have made it to Friday!!!! And there are a ton of stupid little everyday things I have to be thankful for that right now are helping me not have a meltdown or start crying and laughing uncontrollably about the ginormous things I cannot change....
Like I am thankful I have a job...because it keeps me from getting down in the dumps over the assholes I work with....which I should probably be glad none of them like me enough to read this or I wouldn't have a job...
Like I am thankful I have my healthy beautiful children....because it keeps me from feeling like a failure because I have done two things right....well, ok the jury is still out on the kid who bangs his own head for fun...but again, 1 out 2 ain't bad....
Like I am thankful I still had power, and enough gas in my car to go to work....because it keeps me from losing faith that I won't live through until tomorrow and still have lights or even a car to drive....(it's not that bad yet, but the economy isn't getting any better, and if it is I was hiding behind a door somewhere when they passed out help, hope or anything to give me reason to believe things can get better...)
Like I am thankful I have a few people who believe in me enough, motivate me enough, love me enough to read this everyday....because it keeps me writing, it keeps me sane to purge all the nonsense floating around up top, and reminds me I am somebody.....if even just a somebody with a blog, a pile of credit card bills, and a 4' x 5' cubicle.....
I am thankful, I am blessed, I am cursed, I am hopeful, I am ecstatic, I am mad, I am crazy, I am sane as hell, and I lived through this week with no bruises, scrapes, and I am still standing......I made this week my bitch and so can you.....I got the cat o'nine tails for you to borrow if you need to give it a good lashing....one of those B.K. acquirement's....and that's Before Kids for those of you too fucking stupid to realize that....B.C. would have been sacrilegious to use...and I may be a heathen, but I'm a God fearing heathen....
So I'm making this a little shorter today....I will probably more than likely almost definitely post something later...but for now I'm humming up a storm, bitch slapping my ho that is Friday and I am going to make this a F-A-B-U-L-O-U-S day....or at the least one where I will break out in song and dance...but this time I have pants over the panties....
After shoving the Shark out of the car, cute and peppy and ready to tackle that spelling test and ace that math quiz, I blasted Sheryl's "Get Gone" and the Madd Maxx and I sped away on the freeway, bellowing out of tune at the top of our lungs about being from the South and Chevrolet's, and bursting into giggles as he tries to attempt to curl his lip Elvis style and nothing is going to burst my bubble today....
Not even getting stuck in traffic at the intersection at Ella and 610 where they seem to have been doing repairs for the last 2 years, and then even after I watched my little boy waive goodbye to me, stealing my heart, did I lose my pep.....because I have made it to Friday!!!! And there are a ton of stupid little everyday things I have to be thankful for that right now are helping me not have a meltdown or start crying and laughing uncontrollably about the ginormous things I cannot change....
Like I am thankful I have a job...because it keeps me from getting down in the dumps over the assholes I work with....which I should probably be glad none of them like me enough to read this or I wouldn't have a job...
Like I am thankful I have my healthy beautiful children....because it keeps me from feeling like a failure because I have done two things right....well, ok the jury is still out on the kid who bangs his own head for fun...but again, 1 out 2 ain't bad....
Like I am thankful I still had power, and enough gas in my car to go to work....because it keeps me from losing faith that I won't live through until tomorrow and still have lights or even a car to drive....(it's not that bad yet, but the economy isn't getting any better, and if it is I was hiding behind a door somewhere when they passed out help, hope or anything to give me reason to believe things can get better...)
Like I am thankful I have a few people who believe in me enough, motivate me enough, love me enough to read this everyday....because it keeps me writing, it keeps me sane to purge all the nonsense floating around up top, and reminds me I am somebody.....if even just a somebody with a blog, a pile of credit card bills, and a 4' x 5' cubicle.....
I am thankful, I am blessed, I am cursed, I am hopeful, I am ecstatic, I am mad, I am crazy, I am sane as hell, and I lived through this week with no bruises, scrapes, and I am still standing......I made this week my bitch and so can you.....I got the cat o'nine tails for you to borrow if you need to give it a good lashing....one of those B.K. acquirement's....and that's Before Kids for those of you too fucking stupid to realize that....B.C. would have been sacrilegious to use...and I may be a heathen, but I'm a God fearing heathen....
So I'm making this a little shorter today....I will probably more than likely almost definitely post something later...but for now I'm humming up a storm, bitch slapping my ho that is Friday and I am going to make this a F-A-B-U-L-O-U-S day....or at the least one where I will break out in song and dance...but this time I have pants over the panties....
Thursday, February 2, 2012
Handbaskets to Hell and drug addicted cover letters...Oi Vay!
Let me start out by saying....this day...this day is a day to top all others, and while I have vowed to not let it get the best of me, it has...its gone to Hell in a hand basket....and the really nice basket woven out of willow bark that I have been trying to keep my sanity in...Oh what will I do?
First, is started out by running away from me this morning...and not like out the door with wet hair, a damp dress and no mascara until mid rush hour traffic...just the depressing laying in bed until the very last minute and moving through the motions...only to realize I'm actually on time...and it still doesn't perk me up....
I was not lucky (or unfortunate enough at the $6/day ) for jury duty selection based on race/ethnic background and this sent me hauling butt out of the glass structure that is 1201 Congress Ave yesterday....and why they thought spending HUGE OBSCENE amounts of tax dollars on a modern, winding glass structure that is essentially a holding pen for the largest group of people doing NOTHING for hours....you can see I no longer am as enthused about jury duty as I was before, even less so if possible, and I also want to say screw you to all of you who didn't bother to tell me to pack a book, a Kindle, a laptop...something! And then I deigned to drink the only coffee available (non-decaf) and was quietly bouncing off the walls for a better part of the day......
Anyway-after much inner monologue and lots of bathroom breaks and what equated to 32.5 oz's of yummy amped up goodness, I was at last released from my shackles of servitude....just in time to get my kid from the bus stop....and log into work to see 162 emails flashing across my screen....so I gently closed my laptop and went back about my evening allowing myself the missed opportunity for headache, indigestion and everything that goes with stressing over a 9-5....and what happens when no one is there to fill your shoes...and yet your still being paid so little your drying your underwear with a hairdryer to save the dollar on the dryer for gas.
My lackadaisical evening came in the form of this awesome book I'm reading...I cannot divulge the plot or even the title because its an unpublished manuscript, and its too fabulous to spill the beans before publication....but I had agreed to assist the author in coming up with a cover letter consisting of 300 words to best catch publishers attention etc etc.....I thought it would be a piece of cake, and we all can tell from these pesky 20lbs I cannot seem to shake, how much I love cake...Well, think again. Its super super fucking difficult to write, let alone type 300 words enticing enough about a full novel...I mean even allowing for excerpts and all....its hard not to one to just type over and over "read this bad ass book. it is the shit. read this bad ass book. it is the shit. read this bad ass book. it is the shit." Something tells me Penguin or Clearing House or someone wouldn't take it so serious if I did that.....
and then it got me thinking....what if we were required to write a 300 word cover letter to entice people to consider us? for jobs, for relationships, for parenthood, for life????? In 300 words or less what I can say to entice the world to let them know I am worth knowing?
I thought about this all morning and was going to write an even wittier commentary than this..but my train of thought got all fucked up by some impromptu office meeting...when the employees who should have been there for what was a really nice ass chewing, weren't...I have never worked for someone so nice when bitching at you....it didn't even leave a sour taste in my mouth or me running for one of those inflatable ringed pillows....
But then that got me thinking about where I work, the shit people get away with, and what their 300 word cover letters would look like....
It could look something like this:
"Warning! I am bipolar, prone to anxiety, prone to hot flashes, prone to outbursts of a verbally violent nature, prone to anything and everything that will give me an excuse to take a pill of some sort that I have to weasel out of my aging physician and which they should put vast amounts of doses in the H2O so we all feel this happy all the time...If none of these things bother you or you too find you possess some of these attributes, feel free to hang out with me for long lunches, gossiping and shit talking about others and in general degrading others to make up for the fact that I will never know what it is to be happy and therefore must make others miserable...."
I could go on until the 300 word cut off, but why bother when you can see this person's a lemon and walk away.....
Or they could have a cover letter like this:
"I am perky, I am peachy, I am overly friendly, and yet dumb as a fence post....or at least that's what I pretend to be so I can abdicate more difficult tasks to others such as answering the phone when relieving the receptionist...I say the most asinine things and keep people laughing to make up for or gloss over the previous person's behavior. I don't do a lot of work but sure as hell manage to get paid like I do, so I must be doing something right. I also like long walks on the beach, am not afraid to spend time in the outdoors and cook a mean chili".
I mean really? I could break it down for everyone around me in these cramped , tight quarters and no one would come off looking like a rose....most of all me...
I can see it now:
"Frazzled, graying, sagging, tattooed woman with two kids prone to crying jags, potty mouthed rants, and lots and lots of bad driving. Prone to worrying to the point of obsession about things beyond my control and acting like a screeching harpy to a husband that has learned to be smart enough to say 'yes dear' to everything that spews from my mouth. I also take on too much and do not learn to delegate because I cannot stand being lazy, but never manage my time enough to do what I sign up to do...I make mean ass sugar free cupcakes, baked ziti and am the most awesome bargain Goodwill shopper you will find. I use the f word as much as some use the word 'the' and I would KILL, and I mean KILL anyone who harmed my children."
If this doesn't sound like someone you'd hire, befriend, love, take to dinner or hang out with...at the very least read this rag I write online and share with friends....because I would write you a check for a million dollars (albeit one that would bounce before I could remember to cancel) if I could quit my day job and just do this all day....
I'd even make the time to stick to my 6:30 am deadline I had started....if it wasn't for pissing kids, jury duty, the political games of corporate America, and my incessant need to throw in fuck, shit or damn at least every other sentence to make up for my frantic failures in life....
not the least is which I gotta get back to work, so I am not having to come up with a cover letter for my resume....
What kind of cover letter would you be? And would you be a big enough asshole to put it on pink, scented paper?
First, is started out by running away from me this morning...and not like out the door with wet hair, a damp dress and no mascara until mid rush hour traffic...just the depressing laying in bed until the very last minute and moving through the motions...only to realize I'm actually on time...and it still doesn't perk me up....
I was not lucky (or unfortunate enough at the $6/day ) for jury duty selection based on race/ethnic background and this sent me hauling butt out of the glass structure that is 1201 Congress Ave yesterday....and why they thought spending HUGE OBSCENE amounts of tax dollars on a modern, winding glass structure that is essentially a holding pen for the largest group of people doing NOTHING for hours....you can see I no longer am as enthused about jury duty as I was before, even less so if possible, and I also want to say screw you to all of you who didn't bother to tell me to pack a book, a Kindle, a laptop...something! And then I deigned to drink the only coffee available (non-decaf) and was quietly bouncing off the walls for a better part of the day......
Anyway-after much inner monologue and lots of bathroom breaks and what equated to 32.5 oz's of yummy amped up goodness, I was at last released from my shackles of servitude....just in time to get my kid from the bus stop....and log into work to see 162 emails flashing across my screen....so I gently closed my laptop and went back about my evening allowing myself the missed opportunity for headache, indigestion and everything that goes with stressing over a 9-5....and what happens when no one is there to fill your shoes...and yet your still being paid so little your drying your underwear with a hairdryer to save the dollar on the dryer for gas.
My lackadaisical evening came in the form of this awesome book I'm reading...I cannot divulge the plot or even the title because its an unpublished manuscript, and its too fabulous to spill the beans before publication....but I had agreed to assist the author in coming up with a cover letter consisting of 300 words to best catch publishers attention etc etc.....I thought it would be a piece of cake, and we all can tell from these pesky 20lbs I cannot seem to shake, how much I love cake...Well, think again. Its super super fucking difficult to write, let alone type 300 words enticing enough about a full novel...I mean even allowing for excerpts and all....its hard not to one to just type over and over "read this bad ass book. it is the shit. read this bad ass book. it is the shit. read this bad ass book. it is the shit." Something tells me Penguin or Clearing House or someone wouldn't take it so serious if I did that.....
and then it got me thinking....what if we were required to write a 300 word cover letter to entice people to consider us? for jobs, for relationships, for parenthood, for life????? In 300 words or less what I can say to entice the world to let them know I am worth knowing?
I thought about this all morning and was going to write an even wittier commentary than this..but my train of thought got all fucked up by some impromptu office meeting...when the employees who should have been there for what was a really nice ass chewing, weren't...I have never worked for someone so nice when bitching at you....it didn't even leave a sour taste in my mouth or me running for one of those inflatable ringed pillows....
But then that got me thinking about where I work, the shit people get away with, and what their 300 word cover letters would look like....
It could look something like this:
"Warning! I am bipolar, prone to anxiety, prone to hot flashes, prone to outbursts of a verbally violent nature, prone to anything and everything that will give me an excuse to take a pill of some sort that I have to weasel out of my aging physician and which they should put vast amounts of doses in the H2O so we all feel this happy all the time...If none of these things bother you or you too find you possess some of these attributes, feel free to hang out with me for long lunches, gossiping and shit talking about others and in general degrading others to make up for the fact that I will never know what it is to be happy and therefore must make others miserable...."
I could go on until the 300 word cut off, but why bother when you can see this person's a lemon and walk away.....
Or they could have a cover letter like this:
"I am perky, I am peachy, I am overly friendly, and yet dumb as a fence post....or at least that's what I pretend to be so I can abdicate more difficult tasks to others such as answering the phone when relieving the receptionist...I say the most asinine things and keep people laughing to make up for or gloss over the previous person's behavior. I don't do a lot of work but sure as hell manage to get paid like I do, so I must be doing something right. I also like long walks on the beach, am not afraid to spend time in the outdoors and cook a mean chili".
I mean really? I could break it down for everyone around me in these cramped , tight quarters and no one would come off looking like a rose....most of all me...
I can see it now:
"Frazzled, graying, sagging, tattooed woman with two kids prone to crying jags, potty mouthed rants, and lots and lots of bad driving. Prone to worrying to the point of obsession about things beyond my control and acting like a screeching harpy to a husband that has learned to be smart enough to say 'yes dear' to everything that spews from my mouth. I also take on too much and do not learn to delegate because I cannot stand being lazy, but never manage my time enough to do what I sign up to do...I make mean ass sugar free cupcakes, baked ziti and am the most awesome bargain Goodwill shopper you will find. I use the f word as much as some use the word 'the' and I would KILL, and I mean KILL anyone who harmed my children."
If this doesn't sound like someone you'd hire, befriend, love, take to dinner or hang out with...at the very least read this rag I write online and share with friends....because I would write you a check for a million dollars (albeit one that would bounce before I could remember to cancel) if I could quit my day job and just do this all day....
I'd even make the time to stick to my 6:30 am deadline I had started....if it wasn't for pissing kids, jury duty, the political games of corporate America, and my incessant need to throw in fuck, shit or damn at least every other sentence to make up for my frantic failures in life....
not the least is which I gotta get back to work, so I am not having to come up with a cover letter for my resume....
What kind of cover letter would you be? And would you be a big enough asshole to put it on pink, scented paper?
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Chilling with Ice-T in H-town
Good morning, a how do you do and all that jazz.....today is starting out as a fine ass day complete with middle of the night screaming terrors from little 2 year old.....which scare the shit out of me because he sits up completely rigid in bed and lets out this blood curdling scream the neighbors FIVE buildings over can hear....its like Poltergeist or the Exorcist minus the 360 degree head spin and projectile vomiting...no, he saves that for the car when he decides mixing milk and then OJ is a smooth cool idea....
so being cranky, ill rested, and spending the rest of the night tossing and turning worrying about the almighty dollar and budget cuts, I now lay here exhausted as all hell and have no motivation to get out of bed....for one moment I think to myself, aw it's my day off, but then I glance over at my night stand and am reminded by the jury summons staring back at me its not really a day off at all....
No, this morning I have to get my ass out of bed, put on something at least somewhat presentable and haul my ass downtown....to sit for an endless amount of questions...which yes, I support the death penalty, and no I don't think sex offenders are rehabilitated...and all to earn $6.00 fucking dollars which doesn't even pay for the gas it took to drive down there or find a parking spot....plus the meter and all that.....I mean-come on! really? And then there's even the possibility I go and get there and they (they being the wonderful Harris Co. DA's office) have already got the defendant to take a plea deal or something of that nature....and then its "ok we don't need you, bye-bye"... talk about a great way to spend a day not being at work....I'd take that cramped cubicle with all my horrid confessions about my lowly job any day....
But in reality, all snarkiness aside, I'm scared shitless I am going to fuck it up....that I will get there late because I cannot find a parking space....or I walk into the wrong court...or I fill out my summons incorrectly....or that I answer a question a certain way that horrifies the other unfortunate citizens around me....or God forbid I actually get chosen and end up sitting there for days on end....fingers crossed that will NOT be me.....can you imagine having to be quiet for days and listening to others.....
Maybe it's me being afraid that this officially is the day I can viewed as an adult, as a citizen, as someone who is now an active member of society....I had been holding out and hoping it would be something far more dramatic like being commemorated for saving kids from a burning house, saving a ton of trees or historical landmark from a bulldozer, feminist rights and all that....and instead here I am feeling like a citizen simply because I got some slip in the mail to appear.....
Is that all it takes nowadays for me to feel accepted? To feel as if I belong to something? An invitation (really a kindly worded demand in this case) to participate in something to feel validated? Jesus-that is one sad sad realization about my little life today.....
Or is it just that I thought the whole idea of having the opportunity to be the jury of one's fate albeit a parking fate or jay walking fate would be dramatic more solemn....like Law&Order:SVU with Ice-T in the gallery and the defendant some scumbag who stares at us glaring....Or is it that I wished it sounded that much interesting because I'm about to experience a shock when I find out its boring and pointless as hell? Or that I was about to enter with this whole jovial skip step thinking I was part of a bigger picture of our fair and just judicial system when really nothings fair, just and sometimes that fate is one that judicial system has already decide behind closed doors.....
So what started out as rant about a wasted day off, a day without work still having to get up at the crack of dawn, has now turned into a half cocked attempt at a political rant without meaning to.....its just really? I'll let you know how my venture into the big adult world goes....maybe I will get to send a scumbag to jail....or at the very least see one of those detectives I always see on the First 48...huge fan...
I feel my aching bones, saggy tattoos and droopy skin and all, beckoning me to the shower.....and Little Linda Blair is stirring....gotta watch out for that splatter....until my next titillating post....go out and do your civic duty....Save some trees, sign that petition and walk that march.....and don't ignore that jury summons! I hear they can arrest you.....although I wouldn't mind if it was Toutaola...or maybe Stabler doing the arresting....
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 (
/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
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 (
/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
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