waiting for my friend mr nyquil to kick my ass. sitting here thinking about disappointment and i've come to the conclusion, it blows balls. i despise disappointment; i despise causing it and i despise feeling it...and i've done too much of both.
what's the answer, though - quit depending on people? quit allowing them to depend up on me? who lives like that...bitter, resentful, lonely people is all i can think of.
it's not a huge stretch to expect honesty, to be expected to give honesty. i sat back and dug into my brain's ass 6 years ago and made two lists: one list of the things i absolutely would never live again without, and the other of the things i could never again live with. honesty and dishonesty were at the top of those lists, hands down...no hesitation. second on those lists were loyalty and disloyalty. third was probably something silly like bacon and bad breath; but i digress.
where i'm headed with this is that i am a pleaser and have found that the most effective way to please is to be a (an?) honest, loyal friend who tells it like it is, but in a way that isn't brutally painful. oftentimes easier said than done...my greatest strength? my empathy for others; my strongest weakness? my empathy for others. a double edged muther-fuckin sword, it is.
while i am who i am and have tried to accept that not everyone is like me - can i get a "THANK YOU OH MY GOD" for that - what i have trouble with is reconciling the fact that there are those that give and take and then there are those that just give OR take. i take a lot, actually - i give more, but i do have the take-shit part down, with the trophy in my sights...it's fairly new to me so i expect that my grades will improve with time.
i give - dale and i have a joke about "givers" that we know and unfortunately, it is almost always referring to a slut of sorts...as in "she is SUCH a giver", meaning head, ass, what have you. yea, anyway what was i saying? oh yea - i give. the people that i love have access to anything i am able to give to them, 24/7/364 (ha! actually chuckled at that)... i love it when i have what they need, really i do - it makes me happy. maybe it's the cementing of some of my worth to them. i dunno but probably, as being worthy seems to be something more valuable to me than gold (notice i did not say the b-a-c-o-n word). but that, my friends, is a whole 'nuva therapy session.
moving on - someone mentioned to me the possibility of not expecting anything from others and thus, not being disappointed in them. another person suggested i stop giving to certain people, that perhaps that would trigger something in the takers and make them change their evil ways. neither one is an option for me. i DO expect things from other people in my life. i DO expect honesty and loyalty and a shoulder should i need it, from them. further more, i cannot stop giving for a manipulative reason. don't get me wrong, i might-maybe be able to manipulate adolf-effing-hitler under the table if the mood strikes...but when it happens, i choose to do it unencumbered. yet another session ;)
so what is the answer? well hell...i guess it's to just keep on keepin' on. i'll keep giving and maybe when all is said and done, i'll march my ass up to the Pearly Gates, drier than a dead dingo's donger, and Saint Jim-Bob will say "dayum gurrrrrrrl, let's have some wine!" and off we'll go talkin' about all the asswipes we passed something off to along the way.
ok...wow. that made almost no sense at all. i surely do love you my nyquilly boy...loves.
Friday, December 31, 2010
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
a few days early this year, but necessary for me right now...
i'm never sure whether or not to post this on the anniversary of the death of my daughter...i've decided to do it again this year for me and me alone. it is a sad, painful recollection of the day she died, as told 18 years later. it took a long time for me to put it all down into words and it was amazingly cleansing to do so. she is always in my heart and she guides me daily. still.
just a warning of sorts that it isn't pleasant. it is raw and it is real. it is a day in my life that changed everything i knew to be real and reshaped everything from that point forward. it is actually the story of the day that i realized i had no choice but to live my life - regardless of what obstacles were thrown into my path. we don't get to choose much of our way, but we do get the chance to change how we deal with things in our future.
to those who have never experienced this, may God allow you to continue on through your life without ever knowing it; to those who have experienced it - and i know way too many of you personally - know that you are never alone and that you actually were given an amazing gift. something that you may not be able to hold in your arms today, but something that will give you the single-most amazing moment yet to come.
miss morgan: december 22, 1990
just a warning of sorts that it isn't pleasant. it is raw and it is real. it is a day in my life that changed everything i knew to be real and reshaped everything from that point forward. it is actually the story of the day that i realized i had no choice but to live my life - regardless of what obstacles were thrown into my path. we don't get to choose much of our way, but we do get the chance to change how we deal with things in our future.
to those who have never experienced this, may God allow you to continue on through your life without ever knowing it; to those who have experienced it - and i know way too many of you personally - know that you are never alone and that you actually were given an amazing gift. something that you may not be able to hold in your arms today, but something that will give you the single-most amazing moment yet to come.
miss morgan: december 22, 1990
Thursday, December 2, 2010
more sweet, than bitter...
the holidays are here again, the sky above is (still) clear (again)...shall we sing a song of cheer again, holidays are here again...
bittersweet. word for the season...december 22, 2010 marks the 20th anniversary of my daughter morgan's death. whoa. 20 freakin years since my girl died at 10 months of meningitis. which means she would be 21 on february 15, 2011. jeebus, how old AM i? my grams died last month. another huge void in my life. i was raised with her 50 yards away until my mid-teens - she has been a huge part of me for as long as i can remember. the girl and i made a trip up to see her in early october - and i will be forever thankful that we did.
feeling a bit blue and can't quite place my hand upon why. i imagine it's a combination of things...but i generally love this time of year and i need to get my shit in gear, lol. this is also the time of year i start to see a change in my kids. energy level (read: obnoxiousness rating) goes up, boredom prevails and nerves get frayed. my girl has been watching Christmas classics and listening to Christmas songs for weeks already. she's hitting me up to decorate the Christmas tree this weekend. i NEVER have my tree up this early. i know this is what old people say, but it seems like i just took the damn thing down.
i think what is contributing to my funk is the fact that i am starting to realize that love leads to pain ---damn, raise your hand if you saw that coming--- what i mean is i'm getting to a point in my life when i am beginning to realize that life doesn't go on forever. that we WILL have to say goodbye to those we love. the harder and the deeper we love, the harder and deeper the pain will run. it WILL be devastating and there is no dodging it. unless, of course, it is our life that ends first. and so i find myself worrying. morbid, yes; futile, yes; depressing, yes; but pointless, no. i am learning - finally - that i should be living my life one moment at a time. i need to appreciate all of the good that surrounds me. i need to be a better, kinder, more thoughtful person. i should be less judgmental (pffftt, yea, like that is ever gonna happen.) my point is, it's never too late to change the way we affect other people.
seriously, when i look around at the people i truly love and i do mean L-O-V-E with all of my heart, and i try to imagine losing them...well, it's simple, i can't do it. i know, very well, the pain of loss. i know how devastating it is, how paralyzing it is, how it sucks the very breath out of your entire body leaving you frantically searching for a place where you can just crumble and fall, because you are sure you will never see the light of another day. you pray to God to spare you from ever seeing the light of another day - anything, yes even death, is preferable to the pain. how does one survive the knowledge that such loss lies on their life's horizon?
(cue JT) you shower the people you love with love...you show them the way that you feel. you don't dwell on the knowledge of the inevitable goodbye, but you must understand and accept it and then you prepare for it the only way you really can. you love deeper, you hug tighter, you kiss longer, you squeeze harder. you truly allow yourself to experience love. bittersweet, absolutely...but i cannot imagine my life without it. better to have loved and lost...? no question.
group hug time. <3
bittersweet. word for the season...december 22, 2010 marks the 20th anniversary of my daughter morgan's death. whoa. 20 freakin years since my girl died at 10 months of meningitis. which means she would be 21 on february 15, 2011. jeebus, how old AM i? my grams died last month. another huge void in my life. i was raised with her 50 yards away until my mid-teens - she has been a huge part of me for as long as i can remember. the girl and i made a trip up to see her in early october - and i will be forever thankful that we did.
feeling a bit blue and can't quite place my hand upon why. i imagine it's a combination of things...but i generally love this time of year and i need to get my shit in gear, lol. this is also the time of year i start to see a change in my kids. energy level (read: obnoxiousness rating) goes up, boredom prevails and nerves get frayed. my girl has been watching Christmas classics and listening to Christmas songs for weeks already. she's hitting me up to decorate the Christmas tree this weekend. i NEVER have my tree up this early. i know this is what old people say, but it seems like i just took the damn thing down.
i think what is contributing to my funk is the fact that i am starting to realize that love leads to pain ---damn, raise your hand if you saw that coming--- what i mean is i'm getting to a point in my life when i am beginning to realize that life doesn't go on forever. that we WILL have to say goodbye to those we love. the harder and the deeper we love, the harder and deeper the pain will run. it WILL be devastating and there is no dodging it. unless, of course, it is our life that ends first. and so i find myself worrying. morbid, yes; futile, yes; depressing, yes; but pointless, no. i am learning - finally - that i should be living my life one moment at a time. i need to appreciate all of the good that surrounds me. i need to be a better, kinder, more thoughtful person. i should be less judgmental (pffftt, yea, like that is ever gonna happen.) my point is, it's never too late to change the way we affect other people.
seriously, when i look around at the people i truly love and i do mean L-O-V-E with all of my heart, and i try to imagine losing them...well, it's simple, i can't do it. i know, very well, the pain of loss. i know how devastating it is, how paralyzing it is, how it sucks the very breath out of your entire body leaving you frantically searching for a place where you can just crumble and fall, because you are sure you will never see the light of another day. you pray to God to spare you from ever seeing the light of another day - anything, yes even death, is preferable to the pain. how does one survive the knowledge that such loss lies on their life's horizon?
(cue JT) you shower the people you love with love...you show them the way that you feel. you don't dwell on the knowledge of the inevitable goodbye, but you must understand and accept it and then you prepare for it the only way you really can. you love deeper, you hug tighter, you kiss longer, you squeeze harder. you truly allow yourself to experience love. bittersweet, absolutely...but i cannot imagine my life without it. better to have loved and lost...? no question.
group hug time. <3
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
the thin red line...
we all experience personal sacrifice. whether we choose to make that particular sacrifice or have someone else choose for us; whether we are certain that sacrifice needs to be made, or we allow life to make certain for us, sacrifices are still made. it is a by-product of exercising free will; we live and we (hopefully) learn. if we are fortunate and maybe a little bit smart, we choose well and our lives become (or remain) a better place to be. if a healthy mind weighs, decides and moves forward, then an unhealthy mind closes it's eyes, throws a dart and spends a lot of time wondering..."what if?"
so, what about the mind that falls somewhere in between? what about the one that weighs and decides but still occasionally wonders...what if? what about the mind that weighs, decides and moves forward, but fails to allow that sacrifice the freedom it deserves to become a choice further down the road? in essence, denying it the air that it needs to breathe or clipping it's wings so that it cannot fly. does this make that mind an unhealthy one? because it certainly seems pretty fucked up to me. our insecurities stunt us.
and to sort of change tack here, because i was born a squirrel, i give you this to ponder: i've experienced - let's call it - "jealousy" throughout my life. i've been on both sides of it and despised every second that it has consumed - and consume, it does. it is a natural and probably necessary emotion to some degree...but i generally attempt to deny it life in my world the same way i would someone attempting to shoot a larval-stage blowfly up my ass. i've always seen jealousy as a generally rational fear of weak people. the fear of losing something that you believe that you are in possession of, whether due to self-sabotage or to someone that outright takes it away from you. regardless, the fear is that you will no longer be in control of this thing, whatever it may be.
the second half - envy - is a somewhat different beast, (i don't consider a true and honest desire to better yourself and/or your life, "envy"...i suppose that would be called "ambition". but, this isn't about ambition) this is about coveting, which generally leads to scheming to get - or to destroy, something that is perceived as being possessed by someone else. envy comes before the possession, jealousy after it. both develop from our feelings of unworthiness...envy in not feeling worthy of getting something and jealousy in not feeling worthy enough of keeping it. the two seem to be very closely related, yet still quite different.
so which is the lesser of two evils? which is more destructive? which makes one more selfish? why the fuck am i even pondering this? going back to sacrifices and paths, i'm wondering whether or not certain speed bumps labelled "insecurities" stem from jealousy, envy or are just chalked up to living with (or without) the unknown. not that it really matters, mind you. living with the unknown is something we are all forced to do and the other two simply both blow wankers. the unknown is easier to deal with. it's a matter of getting your head straight long enough to move on, i suppose. personally, i have suffered from both of those other two fuckers. looking back, if i had to choose, if i was allowed to pick my poison, i'm pretty sure i would take the envy every time; jealousy is a very hard core, painful kind of stinging bitch. what about those people who really seem to not be affected by either one - do you know any of them? are you one of them? jeebs, now that's a place i'd give my left nut to reside forever, lol
i have sacrificed_____ for _____ and it was a good choice...
i have sacrificed _____ for _____ and it was a bad choice...
i am jealous of_____...
i am envious of_____...
i am content with_____...
i am blessed by experiencing _____...
*crickets chirping* ok then...to be continued, lol. but if you find you have very few things in your negative columns, if anything at all - lemme know your secret for self-confidence and your lack of insecurity. you know, for educational purposes only.
peace out bitches.
so, what about the mind that falls somewhere in between? what about the one that weighs and decides but still occasionally wonders...what if? what about the mind that weighs, decides and moves forward, but fails to allow that sacrifice the freedom it deserves to become a choice further down the road? in essence, denying it the air that it needs to breathe or clipping it's wings so that it cannot fly. does this make that mind an unhealthy one? because it certainly seems pretty fucked up to me. our insecurities stunt us.
and to sort of change tack here, because i was born a squirrel, i give you this to ponder: i've experienced - let's call it - "jealousy" throughout my life. i've been on both sides of it and despised every second that it has consumed - and consume, it does. it is a natural and probably necessary emotion to some degree...but i generally attempt to deny it life in my world the same way i would someone attempting to shoot a larval-stage blowfly up my ass. i've always seen jealousy as a generally rational fear of weak people. the fear of losing something that you believe that you are in possession of, whether due to self-sabotage or to someone that outright takes it away from you. regardless, the fear is that you will no longer be in control of this thing, whatever it may be.
the second half - envy - is a somewhat different beast, (i don't consider a true and honest desire to better yourself and/or your life, "envy"...i suppose that would be called "ambition". but, this isn't about ambition) this is about coveting, which generally leads to scheming to get - or to destroy, something that is perceived as being possessed by someone else. envy comes before the possession, jealousy after it. both develop from our feelings of unworthiness...envy in not feeling worthy of getting something and jealousy in not feeling worthy enough of keeping it. the two seem to be very closely related, yet still quite different.
so which is the lesser of two evils? which is more destructive? which makes one more selfish? why the fuck am i even pondering this? going back to sacrifices and paths, i'm wondering whether or not certain speed bumps labelled "insecurities" stem from jealousy, envy or are just chalked up to living with (or without) the unknown. not that it really matters, mind you. living with the unknown is something we are all forced to do and the other two simply both blow wankers. the unknown is easier to deal with. it's a matter of getting your head straight long enough to move on, i suppose. personally, i have suffered from both of those other two fuckers. looking back, if i had to choose, if i was allowed to pick my poison, i'm pretty sure i would take the envy every time; jealousy is a very hard core, painful kind of stinging bitch. what about those people who really seem to not be affected by either one - do you know any of them? are you one of them? jeebs, now that's a place i'd give my left nut to reside forever, lol
i have sacrificed_____ for _____ and it was a good choice...
i have sacrificed _____ for _____ and it was a bad choice...
i am jealous of_____...
i am envious of_____...
i am content with_____...
i am blessed by experiencing _____...
*crickets chirping* ok then...to be continued, lol. but if you find you have very few things in your negative columns, if anything at all - lemme know your secret for self-confidence and your lack of insecurity. you know, for educational purposes only.
peace out bitches.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
ugh.
the unsettled, undefined feeling of needing a deep breath. deeper. not working. i *hate* this. no explanation really, probably a combination of things. loved ones missed. the monotony of what is the day ahead of me. unresolved frustrations. the fact that i battle with clinical depression depresses me. just no joy today. it happens.
do i welcome it and wallow, hoping it gets bored with me and finally leaves me in peace? do i curl up with a book and hope to eventually sleep it off? do i busy myself with shit i absolutely do not want to do in the hopes of shaking it off? i never know how to deal with it. just pray for it to subside without leaving scars.
i know what i can't do. i can't make any type of consequential decision. i tend to react to the panic by covering it in some form of immediate gratification - which often brings about the aforementioned scarring; emotional fall-out, not physical, i'm a head-case, not a complete freak. not much else to say.
i know what i should do. i should concentrate on the good things in my life - things like the fact that i'm not seriously ill. that my children aren't seriously ill. that the little shit subsides, eventually. that i have a home and the love of some truly wonderful people. why, on these days, isn't that enough to lift my spirits back to where they usually reside?
jeebus, this music isn't helping - fucking Bread - there's a start in shit-canning that crap.
do i welcome it and wallow, hoping it gets bored with me and finally leaves me in peace? do i curl up with a book and hope to eventually sleep it off? do i busy myself with shit i absolutely do not want to do in the hopes of shaking it off? i never know how to deal with it. just pray for it to subside without leaving scars.
i know what i can't do. i can't make any type of consequential decision. i tend to react to the panic by covering it in some form of immediate gratification - which often brings about the aforementioned scarring; emotional fall-out, not physical, i'm a head-case, not a complete freak. not much else to say.
i know what i should do. i should concentrate on the good things in my life - things like the fact that i'm not seriously ill. that my children aren't seriously ill. that the little shit subsides, eventually. that i have a home and the love of some truly wonderful people. why, on these days, isn't that enough to lift my spirits back to where they usually reside?
jeebus, this music isn't helping - fucking Bread - there's a start in shit-canning that crap.
Friday, October 15, 2010
let us recap...shall we?
3:06am: i hear Fat-Pat-the-Androgynous-Cat digging at the carpet under my bedroom door. probably, her lard ass has eaten all of the food in the house, sampled a few non-food items and dammit she's not full. i launch a roll of tissue missile-like at the door to scare her, where it lands after a quite-a-bit-less-than-spectacular *whuf* against the wall next to the door. yea, i kinda rock my own world like that. the ever-vigilant Winston goes on full alert and stands guard at the door, refusing get back to his bed.
3:08am: lights out, pillows in place, t-shirt over my face, all is right in my world.
3:08:15am: *scratch scratch* fuck me.
3:19am: i give up trying to sleep - it's hopeless due to images in my brain consisting of various methods in which to kill each one of my animals. by now i'm stressed and pissed...sleep is not a viable option. lights on, kindle out, glasses found - reading commences.
4:22am: *YAWN* sweet sleep is within reach...lights out, pillows in place...blah, blah, blah.
4:31am: fuck it - laying here is stupid, i have things to do...i can always take a nap. lights on...first things first; start coffee. check email. squirrel, even though i promised myself i was only checking my email. read about something political and start to get stressed again...move on to frontierville. sweet, brainless frontierville. algebraic equation of the day: "coffee + sleeping children + frontierville = temporary sanity".
5:03am: i find myself in my closet wondering who the fuck bought all these clothes 2 sizes too small, i have nothing to wear. screw it - i love my jams. hey, while i'm in here...
5:27am: closet purged a bit - starting to wake up. gonna start some laundry. follow me here, this gets tricky: having gathered a massive pile of things that need washing and balanced my coffee cup on top, using my teeth to hold it in place, i open my door and call to Winston to get his lazy ass off the bed...we're heading out. he's rather exasperated with me...he must be - he looks at me with his "are you serious right now? it's still dark outside and i just got comfy...are we going out and staying out this time, because this back and forth shit is for the birds. make up your mind and COMMIT, woman" face. a few more coaxing gestures and he resignedly drags his ass out from under his soft yellow (read: pussy girl) blanket, stands in the middle of the hallway (balanced equidistant between all bedrooms containing sleeping [read: QUIET] children) and does the world's most annoying shake known to man. dog tags on a shaking dog make the most infuriating sound when your temporary sanity is being permanently threatened.
5:28am: something falls from the laundry pile in my hands - of course. i can't tell what it is - i'll grab it with my toes and kick/carry it to the laundry room. still balancing my coffee, mind you. i hit where the carpet meets tile in the entryway and feel what must be a 4 inch long rusty heroin needle (known in some circles as a carpet tack) drive through the heel of my right, probably-panty-or-sock-carrying, foot. mutherfucker, i *HAAAAATE* that. i grab the coffee with a hand to keep from spilling it as i hop on one foot, hoping with very little hope that i don't bleed out right there where my children will find me buried under a heap of dirty laundry (which could take days...jus'sayin - my kids sure as hell steer damn clear of touching any form of dirty laundry).
5:28:52am: and then more clothes fall to the floor. blood pressure spike is definitely in the immediate forecast.
5:29am (time is approximate due to a temporary blackout): the fucking PSYCHO orange cat has ONCE AGAIN pushed over the self-watering container in her attempt to "catch" the bubbles that appear in the jug as she drinks the water. have i ever mentioned how my kitchen floor turns into a freaking sheet of ice with just one drop of water? yea, well...jeebus, mark and christopher, my life is such a fucking joke. the momentary lapse of consciousness comes from my head hitting the floor, as clothes and coffee spew into a roughly 5 foot radius before me.
5:35am (again with the time approximation): i laugh/cry/wimper/snort my way to my feet, gather the laundry - resourcefully using a dirty towel to mop up coffee - and make my way to the laundry room without further incident...which is truly amazing at this point given that it was a whole 3 feet away.
7:01am: the chitlins have stirred without being shaken and i feel better having, once again, shared the ridiculousness of this moment in time in the Easy Life, and then eaten half of a bottle of aleve. for the record - yes, i did consider the half-full bottle of wine sitting on my counter as my pain-reliever of choice, but figured with this kind of start, probably i will have an even stronger need for that in a few hours.
martinez-out, bitches.
3:08am: lights out, pillows in place, t-shirt over my face, all is right in my world.
3:08:15am: *scratch scratch* fuck me.
3:19am: i give up trying to sleep - it's hopeless due to images in my brain consisting of various methods in which to kill each one of my animals. by now i'm stressed and pissed...sleep is not a viable option. lights on, kindle out, glasses found - reading commences.
4:22am: *YAWN* sweet sleep is within reach...lights out, pillows in place...blah, blah, blah.
4:31am: fuck it - laying here is stupid, i have things to do...i can always take a nap. lights on...first things first; start coffee. check email. squirrel, even though i promised myself i was only checking my email. read about something political and start to get stressed again...move on to frontierville. sweet, brainless frontierville. algebraic equation of the day: "coffee + sleeping children + frontierville = temporary sanity".
5:03am: i find myself in my closet wondering who the fuck bought all these clothes 2 sizes too small, i have nothing to wear. screw it - i love my jams. hey, while i'm in here...
5:27am: closet purged a bit - starting to wake up. gonna start some laundry. follow me here, this gets tricky: having gathered a massive pile of things that need washing and balanced my coffee cup on top, using my teeth to hold it in place, i open my door and call to Winston to get his lazy ass off the bed...we're heading out. he's rather exasperated with me...he must be - he looks at me with his "are you serious right now? it's still dark outside and i just got comfy...are we going out and staying out this time, because this back and forth shit is for the birds. make up your mind and COMMIT, woman" face. a few more coaxing gestures and he resignedly drags his ass out from under his soft yellow (read: pussy girl) blanket, stands in the middle of the hallway (balanced equidistant between all bedrooms containing sleeping [read: QUIET] children) and does the world's most annoying shake known to man. dog tags on a shaking dog make the most infuriating sound when your temporary sanity is being permanently threatened.
5:28am: something falls from the laundry pile in my hands - of course. i can't tell what it is - i'll grab it with my toes and kick/carry it to the laundry room. still balancing my coffee, mind you. i hit where the carpet meets tile in the entryway and feel what must be a 4 inch long rusty heroin needle (known in some circles as a carpet tack) drive through the heel of my right, probably-panty-or-sock-carrying, foot. mutherfucker, i *HAAAAATE* that. i grab the coffee with a hand to keep from spilling it as i hop on one foot, hoping with very little hope that i don't bleed out right there where my children will find me buried under a heap of dirty laundry (which could take days...jus'sayin - my kids sure as hell steer damn clear of touching any form of dirty laundry).
5:28:52am: and then more clothes fall to the floor. blood pressure spike is definitely in the immediate forecast.
5:29am (time is approximate due to a temporary blackout): the fucking PSYCHO orange cat has ONCE AGAIN pushed over the self-watering container in her attempt to "catch" the bubbles that appear in the jug as she drinks the water. have i ever mentioned how my kitchen floor turns into a freaking sheet of ice with just one drop of water? yea, well...jeebus, mark and christopher, my life is such a fucking joke. the momentary lapse of consciousness comes from my head hitting the floor, as clothes and coffee spew into a roughly 5 foot radius before me.
5:35am (again with the time approximation): i laugh/cry/wimper/snort my way to my feet, gather the laundry - resourcefully using a dirty towel to mop up coffee - and make my way to the laundry room without further incident...which is truly amazing at this point given that it was a whole 3 feet away.
7:01am: the chitlins have stirred without being shaken and i feel better having, once again, shared the ridiculousness of this moment in time in the Easy Life, and then eaten half of a bottle of aleve. for the record - yes, i did consider the half-full bottle of wine sitting on my counter as my pain-reliever of choice, but figured with this kind of start, probably i will have an even stronger need for that in a few hours.
martinez-out, bitches.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
oh, that tangled web...
been a slightly effed up week...my guy has a wildfire close to his home and has been sitting in ready-to-fly mode for a couple of days now. he feels particularly stressed, as he has previously watched a home - and all of his belongings - burn to the ground. it appears that his home is safe, but he is still under evacuation orders...if he leaves to go to work, he will not be allowed back in. so he sits.
one of my close friends from jr high/high school had surgery yesterday - rather emergency, she found out about it a week ago - all is well as of now and she is supposed to be able to go home this afternoon. i worried for her for a few different reasons, mainly though because she was petrified that something bad would happen to her. she has a son that has just started kindergarten two weeks ago...that wasn't going well, and leaving him to stay in the hospital was weighing heavily upon her. as i said, that appeared to have gone as planned and i think i can rest easier as far as she is concerned. whew.
got a phone call from my mom yesterday about my gram's...last summer they discovered she has fluid building in her lungs. she went to the hospital a couple of times to have them drained and discovered a weak valve or some such crap and needed surgery. well, the bird is 89ish and a bit frail nowadays so they decided last summer that they would not operate on her and just monitor her recurring pneumonia as best they could. she's been quite good for about a year, but just went back into the hospital last week. they drained the fluid and released her. two days later, they will filling up again. they have now decided that the hospital trips are too hard on her and have agreed that they will monitor from the home, but not readmit her to the hospital. so...gram's isn't well. i called her today and i'm not sure she knew who i was for a bit. she sounded very weak and pretty out of it. talked to my mom who explained that she has been pretty drugged up this week. problem is my grams is 5 hours away from here...i'm not sure what to do. whether or not i should pull the kids out of school and drive up there to see her or wait for more news from my mom. ugh. my grams has been such a HUGE part of my life for as long as i can remember - it's some sad shit to say the least.
one of my kids has been having problems that i will not go into here...they involve "friends", school and people of a shitty ilk. the kind of people you do not want your children to know - ever. we're dealing with that on a day-to-day basis and i'm trying to not have nightmares involving worst case scenarios. have i mentioned in the last 20 minutes how badly i want my fat, innocent little babies back?
smaller, less significant issues include phone/house alarm/tiVo problems; car needs work done; yard work is - once again - out of control; girl's soccer season has started, and halloween is coming back. cripes why do i have to deal with this STOOPIT "holiday" every. single. year? ugh.
the good news is that i have food in the pantry, my man loves the shit out of my guts - regardless of the ridiculousness that is my life - and everyone is healthy. well, the kids are anyway - that is crucial and for that, i am grateful.
holy shit - did i get through that post without one f-bomb? wow...i am off my game.
one of my close friends from jr high/high school had surgery yesterday - rather emergency, she found out about it a week ago - all is well as of now and she is supposed to be able to go home this afternoon. i worried for her for a few different reasons, mainly though because she was petrified that something bad would happen to her. she has a son that has just started kindergarten two weeks ago...that wasn't going well, and leaving him to stay in the hospital was weighing heavily upon her. as i said, that appeared to have gone as planned and i think i can rest easier as far as she is concerned. whew.
got a phone call from my mom yesterday about my gram's...last summer they discovered she has fluid building in her lungs. she went to the hospital a couple of times to have them drained and discovered a weak valve or some such crap and needed surgery. well, the bird is 89ish and a bit frail nowadays so they decided last summer that they would not operate on her and just monitor her recurring pneumonia as best they could. she's been quite good for about a year, but just went back into the hospital last week. they drained the fluid and released her. two days later, they will filling up again. they have now decided that the hospital trips are too hard on her and have agreed that they will monitor from the home, but not readmit her to the hospital. so...gram's isn't well. i called her today and i'm not sure she knew who i was for a bit. she sounded very weak and pretty out of it. talked to my mom who explained that she has been pretty drugged up this week. problem is my grams is 5 hours away from here...i'm not sure what to do. whether or not i should pull the kids out of school and drive up there to see her or wait for more news from my mom. ugh. my grams has been such a HUGE part of my life for as long as i can remember - it's some sad shit to say the least.
one of my kids has been having problems that i will not go into here...they involve "friends", school and people of a shitty ilk. the kind of people you do not want your children to know - ever. we're dealing with that on a day-to-day basis and i'm trying to not have nightmares involving worst case scenarios. have i mentioned in the last 20 minutes how badly i want my fat, innocent little babies back?
smaller, less significant issues include phone/house alarm/tiVo problems; car needs work done; yard work is - once again - out of control; girl's soccer season has started, and halloween is coming back. cripes why do i have to deal with this STOOPIT "holiday" every. single. year? ugh.
the good news is that i have food in the pantry, my man loves the shit out of my guts - regardless of the ridiculousness that is my life - and everyone is healthy. well, the kids are anyway - that is crucial and for that, i am grateful.
holy shit - did i get through that post without one f-bomb? wow...i am off my game.
Thursday, August 5, 2010
why i should probably burn in hell: by shawna martinez
so one day this girl walks up to a pizza parlor in some small podunk california town, she's starving and therefore, maybe a bit cynical and slightly crabby. she spots a very stoic, very cool, sunglassed 'gene simmons' (sans makeup, of course - full-on KISS makeup at the pizza parlour would just be...well, pretty fucking cool.) sitting at a table with two teenage-ish girls. gene is as cold as ice...he sips a glass from his own personal pitcher of beer looking out the window, saying pretty much nothing to anyone.
the two girls (one i dubbed '80's-madonna' simply because of the frilly mini skirt and the huge floppy bow hanging in her face. ok, ok...the cut up lace gloves might have had something to do with my initial analysis, well, that and the fact that she stood by herself at the plush animal-grabber machine smacking her gum, dancing and softly singing to a silent tune running through her little bow flapped head. she was channeling 80's-madonna dammit!) didn't talk much, just kind of went about their pizza parlour-ish business, stopping by to mumble something to gene and take a bite of pizza before bouncing off again.
gene was a man of few words. i think i may have commented once or maybe 7 times just "how fucking cool" he really was. i'd venture to say his coolness factor was hovering around 9.5 and i was fascinated...well until i had to pee, then he quickly became a (momentary) afterthought. i breezed by madognuts - who, while playing pinball, had her fingers a'snappin, her head a'bobbin and her feet a'groovin - on my way to the bathroom, when i realized it was occupado. dammit. after quickly pondering and discarding thoughts of ducking into the men's bathroom - for various reasons, the top of the list happened to be the state of the staggering, greenish pallor-ed man, hunched over and wiping his face on his shirt collar, that had just exited said men's bathroom - i made my way back to the table where a certain someone (who really really REALLY wishes to remain anonymous) and my daughter were holding judgmental court while the reigning justice of the bench was off doing her personal business.
upon my return this ANONYMOUS person leans over to me and says "dayum, you should see gene's eyes - they are fuuuuuuuuuucked up! i'd wear shades indoors too if my eyes looked like i'd had the shit beaten out of me with a bat right after coming off a 30-day meth run...cripes, poor guy!" of course, i look over to catch a glimpse of a now even cooler mr smooth, but nooooooo...his glasses were back on and he was back to staring out the window sipping on his beer - coolness and light baby. dammit - i miss all the good stuff.
having had about all the fun i could with gene, i moved on to smacking on someone else in the pizza parlour, and the next thing i know i become aware of him talking to his girls about going outside to have a cigarette. keep in mind mr simmons is only 2 tables away from us, so i can hear him pretty clearly. the cigarette statement wasn't quite enough to fully pull my attention from jim-bob's half-sister's inbred brother who is telling the story of accidentally boinking his third cousin's prize 4-H hog, "BUT ONLY ONE TIME AND I WUZ REEL DRUNK AND FELL RIGHT TO SLEEP DURING, SO IT DON'T REALLY COUNT AS SEX RELATIONS, DUZ IT?"...good shit in small towns i tell you what.
next thing i know i find myself being slightly pulled off the bestiality topic by the sound of gene scraping back his chair and mumbling something to himself about not being able to find something. i vaguely recall thinking, kindly of course, "jeebus gene...if you laid off the sauce and took off your damn glasses inside, you might just be able to find your freakin cigarettes, or lighter, or whatever it is you are too drunk to mumble coherently about not being able to find - gah, some people - now who's gonna drive those poor girls home?"
then, finding myself more than mildly interested for whatever reason, i turned to see if i could get an idea of what it was that he was having so much trouble finding and i see him reaching around on the floor. i couldn't see anything interesting...well except a little skinny stick of some sort - surely that couldn't be what he was looking for, right? well...gene seemed to find what he was looking for right then and - tickle my ass with a feather - it WAS the skinny stick he was all ruffled up about. hunh. he then picked it up and worked some little switch and the skinny little stick - VOILA! - turned into a walking cane.
my eyes grew to a size relative to godzilla's gonads, my hands flew to my big fat fucking blasphemous mouth, the lights flickered inside as thunder crashed outside (ok, not really) and all i remember was hearing ANONYMOUS hiss (no really, he hissed) into my ear, "JESUS shawna, i have got to stop letting you drag me Straight...Into...the Bowels...of...Hell.", as i watched a very blind gene simmons *tap*tap*tap* his way outside to smoke his cigarette in the peace and quiet away from stupid, asinine, judgmental people named me.
now, you do realize that people deficient in one sense acquire greater strength in others...namely hearing when your sight is compromised? oy, i so suck as a human being. how have i been allowed to walk the earth this long?
*i'm going to add here that i am aware that this is not a laughing matter - the making fun of disabled people, and being disabled, of course...very not funny. what i do find sadly comical, and therefore blogworthy, is the fact that i can be sooooo stupid. those that really know me, know that i would never EVER do anything to intentionally hurt anyone's feelings - i said i was stupid, not an asshole. that being said, conjure up your own form of bad juju voodoo and cast it upon me if you feel the need. the more compassionate among you may consider sending me some CLUE THE FUCK IN juju, as i can obviously use it.
the two girls (one i dubbed '80's-madonna' simply because of the frilly mini skirt and the huge floppy bow hanging in her face. ok, ok...the cut up lace gloves might have had something to do with my initial analysis, well, that and the fact that she stood by herself at the plush animal-grabber machine smacking her gum, dancing and softly singing to a silent tune running through her little bow flapped head. she was channeling 80's-madonna dammit!) didn't talk much, just kind of went about their pizza parlour-ish business, stopping by to mumble something to gene and take a bite of pizza before bouncing off again.
gene was a man of few words. i think i may have commented once or maybe 7 times just "how fucking cool" he really was. i'd venture to say his coolness factor was hovering around 9.5 and i was fascinated...well until i had to pee, then he quickly became a (momentary) afterthought. i breezed by madognuts - who, while playing pinball, had her fingers a'snappin, her head a'bobbin and her feet a'groovin - on my way to the bathroom, when i realized it was occupado. dammit. after quickly pondering and discarding thoughts of ducking into the men's bathroom - for various reasons, the top of the list happened to be the state of the staggering, greenish pallor-ed man, hunched over and wiping his face on his shirt collar, that had just exited said men's bathroom - i made my way back to the table where a certain someone (who really really REALLY wishes to remain anonymous) and my daughter were holding judgmental court while the reigning justice of the bench was off doing her personal business.
upon my return this ANONYMOUS person leans over to me and says "dayum, you should see gene's eyes - they are fuuuuuuuuuucked up! i'd wear shades indoors too if my eyes looked like i'd had the shit beaten out of me with a bat right after coming off a 30-day meth run...cripes, poor guy!" of course, i look over to catch a glimpse of a now even cooler mr smooth, but nooooooo...his glasses were back on and he was back to staring out the window sipping on his beer - coolness and light baby. dammit - i miss all the good stuff.
having had about all the fun i could with gene, i moved on to smacking on someone else in the pizza parlour, and the next thing i know i become aware of him talking to his girls about going outside to have a cigarette. keep in mind mr simmons is only 2 tables away from us, so i can hear him pretty clearly. the cigarette statement wasn't quite enough to fully pull my attention from jim-bob's half-sister's inbred brother who is telling the story of accidentally boinking his third cousin's prize 4-H hog, "BUT ONLY ONE TIME AND I WUZ REEL DRUNK AND FELL RIGHT TO SLEEP DURING, SO IT DON'T REALLY COUNT AS SEX RELATIONS, DUZ IT?"...good shit in small towns i tell you what.
next thing i know i find myself being slightly pulled off the bestiality topic by the sound of gene scraping back his chair and mumbling something to himself about not being able to find something. i vaguely recall thinking, kindly of course, "jeebus gene...if you laid off the sauce and took off your damn glasses inside, you might just be able to find your freakin cigarettes, or lighter, or whatever it is you are too drunk to mumble coherently about not being able to find - gah, some people - now who's gonna drive those poor girls home?"
then, finding myself more than mildly interested for whatever reason, i turned to see if i could get an idea of what it was that he was having so much trouble finding and i see him reaching around on the floor. i couldn't see anything interesting...well except a little skinny stick of some sort - surely that couldn't be what he was looking for, right? well...gene seemed to find what he was looking for right then and - tickle my ass with a feather - it WAS the skinny stick he was all ruffled up about. hunh. he then picked it up and worked some little switch and the skinny little stick - VOILA! - turned into a walking cane.
my eyes grew to a size relative to godzilla's gonads, my hands flew to my big fat fucking blasphemous mouth, the lights flickered inside as thunder crashed outside (ok, not really) and all i remember was hearing ANONYMOUS hiss (no really, he hissed) into my ear, "JESUS shawna, i have got to stop letting you drag me Straight...Into...the Bowels...of...Hell.", as i watched a very blind gene simmons *tap*tap*tap* his way outside to smoke his cigarette in the peace and quiet away from stupid, asinine, judgmental people named me.
now, you do realize that people deficient in one sense acquire greater strength in others...namely hearing when your sight is compromised? oy, i so suck as a human being. how have i been allowed to walk the earth this long?
*i'm going to add here that i am aware that this is not a laughing matter - the making fun of disabled people, and being disabled, of course...very not funny. what i do find sadly comical, and therefore blogworthy, is the fact that i can be sooooo stupid. those that really know me, know that i would never EVER do anything to intentionally hurt anyone's feelings - i said i was stupid, not an asshole. that being said, conjure up your own form of bad juju voodoo and cast it upon me if you feel the need. the more compassionate among you may consider sending me some CLUE THE FUCK IN juju, as i can obviously use it.
fast train. non-stop. front row seat.
can you guys handle a blog post about shawna falling into a rather large pile of shit and attempting to swim out of it but failing miserably?
Saturday, June 19, 2010
sewer trap
i'm sorry - potty mouth is going to apologize. *sigh* sometimes, i just get too angry for real words to help me feel better. the word fuck helps me feel better. juvenile yes, but i can't help it, it just does. i'm trying to temper it and looking back on my last post i obviously was at a loss for "real" words, lol.
anyway, no real point except i could have handled that a bit----wait wait wait.
wait. hold the *bleep* up - why am i apologizing and to whom? it's my blog and i like the word fuck...(and shit and damn and hell). if i stopped using it, someone somewhere would wonder what was wrong. never mind :D...back to your reggerly scheduled reading - nothing to see here.
anyway, no real point except i could have handled that a bit----wait wait wait.
wait. hold the *bleep* up - why am i apologizing and to whom? it's my blog and i like the word fuck...(and shit and damn and hell). if i stopped using it, someone somewhere would wonder what was wrong. never mind :D...back to your reggerly scheduled reading - nothing to see here.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
i'm sorry, is that the sound of you bleeding out?
have you ever had one of those days where you go from simply 'pissy' to full blown 'bitch' in about 22.3 seconds? i want to blame my lazy-ass, don't-give-a-shit, it's-all-about-me kids, but i'm not sure that's fair.
what the FUCK am i talking about - of course it's fair. i keep running through my head "you'll miss them when they are gone" or, "you'll wish for a loud messy house again, just to have the kids back home" but i truly believe that will pan out to be the biggest crock of horse shit known to man, once it's all said and done. hopefully i'm wrong, i just really doubt it.
as much as i love my kids - they are a huge pain in the ass. they are lazy, they mess up neat areas for no apparent reason, they break things that they shouldn't even be touching, they make messes simply passing through a room., they destroy things - they have ruined carpet, clothes, walls, blinds, cabinets, fences, plants... all seemingly without a care in the world...they are expensive, they complain when asked to do simple routine things - then they do a shitty job, they have selective hearing, they have selective sight, they have selective brain power. they are expected to do well in school - they are smart people. really smart. until they run across a subject they don't particularly care for - one child might be math or reading, another child might despise physical exercise. then there's the one that hates anything even remotely related to school and actually shows enthusiasm when he gets detention because his girlfriend is hanging out in there too. also probably for not giving a shit about anything related to school. terrific.
here is where most of you say "there's your problem, dumbass" and i don't really care. sock it to me. here goes: my kids eventually get pretty much anything they ask for...they have phones, computers, game consoles up the wazoo, ipods - like i said, pretty much whatever they ask for. and sure, they are supposed to maintain decent grades (some do, some don't), they have chores around the house they should be doing without being asked (uh...never), they have rooms to keep somewhat inhabitable (only when my head spins around and i spew hot asphalt tar from my nose), but my definition of that must be completely ridiculous, because they can never seem to hit that mark for more than 10 or 15 minutes. my point is they rarely apply themselves to doing things the right way. after nagging and bitching at them about it for days, they look at me like i'm insane and irrational when i finally get pissed.
i really don't ask much of them. i acknowledge that most of the reason they are who they are is because of me and who i am. i see my own shortcomings in them daily - i can be very lazy and look for shortcuts. what i battle with is that more than anything, i want my kids to be kids...i want them to be happy and experience a kid's life before becoming bogged down with grown-up shit. but i also want them to someday be adults that people actually want to be around for an extended period of time. why is it so hard for me to find a middle ground, something between being a helpless needy little kid and a slovenly teenager with frakken ADD? i mostly make them come back and pick up after themselves when they leave shit laying around or make a mess of some sort. yes, it is easier for me to throw or put away their crap, but i feel like i need to make a point. i figure if i get on their nerves enough they'll pick up after themselves for no other reason than not having to hear the sound of my devil-woman screech anymore. alas, i tire of it before they seem to.
i have a child that begged and pleaded for a fish tank and finally got one with the understanding that it was their responsibility to maintain. yea, the tank is half full right now, making GOD-awful sucking noises from a lack of water for the filter and contains 2 out of the original 10 fish. what do i do? do i say fuck it, and hope the last 2 fish die quickly? do i take this child by the hand - once AGAIN - and show them how to prepare the water and fill the tank? what do i do?
i have another child that managed to spill hot liquid RED wax in their room. not just on the carpet, not just on the white baseboards, not even just on the stucco walls - the wax is splattered throughout a roughly 9 square foot area, covering books, clothes and furniture, in addition to the other things mentioned. did i mention that the wax is RED? why, you ask, did this child have hot liquid RED wax in their bedroom? good fucking question.
i have yet another child who's office 'workspace' is covered with candy wrappers, water bottles, dishes, cd's, dvd's, mxc's (no clue, just made that shit up)...you name it, it's on the desk in there. have i asked them to clean it up? of course. have i cleaned it up myself on occasion? of course. have i threatened to burn it down if it wasn't kept clean? probably so, now that i think about it. is it still a mess in there as i type? absolutely.
seriously, what in GOD'S name made me think i could actually handle raising children? the baby/young part was easy...i loved it when they were small and defenseless and messy and whiney. THAT was rewarding. this...really, not so much.
i'm overwhelmed and probably pms'ing. i have summer vacation approaching in 2 1/2 weeks and these little bastards are going to put up or...no, no 'or'...i'm starting a list, i'm not even going to check it twice - i know who's been lazy and who's going to have a whip cracked on their ass. i'm not a horrible parent. my kids are good kids, but they are even lazier than i am. i pray that ultimately, Lord willing, they will emerge as kind, albeit not organized or clean, adults...someday. but the next person that tells me to "be sure and enjoy them at this age because it all goes so fast", can pluck my mexican-by-injection switchblade out of their carotid and then kiss my ever-loving frustrated big ass.
what the FUCK am i talking about - of course it's fair. i keep running through my head "you'll miss them when they are gone" or, "you'll wish for a loud messy house again, just to have the kids back home" but i truly believe that will pan out to be the biggest crock of horse shit known to man, once it's all said and done. hopefully i'm wrong, i just really doubt it.
as much as i love my kids - they are a huge pain in the ass. they are lazy, they mess up neat areas for no apparent reason, they break things that they shouldn't even be touching, they make messes simply passing through a room., they destroy things - they have ruined carpet, clothes, walls, blinds, cabinets, fences, plants... all seemingly without a care in the world...they are expensive, they complain when asked to do simple routine things - then they do a shitty job, they have selective hearing, they have selective sight, they have selective brain power. they are expected to do well in school - they are smart people. really smart. until they run across a subject they don't particularly care for - one child might be math or reading, another child might despise physical exercise. then there's the one that hates anything even remotely related to school and actually shows enthusiasm when he gets detention because his girlfriend is hanging out in there too. also probably for not giving a shit about anything related to school. terrific.
here is where most of you say "there's your problem, dumbass" and i don't really care. sock it to me. here goes: my kids eventually get pretty much anything they ask for...they have phones, computers, game consoles up the wazoo, ipods - like i said, pretty much whatever they ask for. and sure, they are supposed to maintain decent grades (some do, some don't), they have chores around the house they should be doing without being asked (uh...never), they have rooms to keep somewhat inhabitable (only when my head spins around and i spew hot asphalt tar from my nose), but my definition of that must be completely ridiculous, because they can never seem to hit that mark for more than 10 or 15 minutes. my point is they rarely apply themselves to doing things the right way. after nagging and bitching at them about it for days, they look at me like i'm insane and irrational when i finally get pissed.
i really don't ask much of them. i acknowledge that most of the reason they are who they are is because of me and who i am. i see my own shortcomings in them daily - i can be very lazy and look for shortcuts. what i battle with is that more than anything, i want my kids to be kids...i want them to be happy and experience a kid's life before becoming bogged down with grown-up shit. but i also want them to someday be adults that people actually want to be around for an extended period of time. why is it so hard for me to find a middle ground, something between being a helpless needy little kid and a slovenly teenager with frakken ADD? i mostly make them come back and pick up after themselves when they leave shit laying around or make a mess of some sort. yes, it is easier for me to throw or put away their crap, but i feel like i need to make a point. i figure if i get on their nerves enough they'll pick up after themselves for no other reason than not having to hear the sound of my devil-woman screech anymore. alas, i tire of it before they seem to.
i have a child that begged and pleaded for a fish tank and finally got one with the understanding that it was their responsibility to maintain. yea, the tank is half full right now, making GOD-awful sucking noises from a lack of water for the filter and contains 2 out of the original 10 fish. what do i do? do i say fuck it, and hope the last 2 fish die quickly? do i take this child by the hand - once AGAIN - and show them how to prepare the water and fill the tank? what do i do?
i have another child that managed to spill hot liquid RED wax in their room. not just on the carpet, not just on the white baseboards, not even just on the stucco walls - the wax is splattered throughout a roughly 9 square foot area, covering books, clothes and furniture, in addition to the other things mentioned. did i mention that the wax is RED? why, you ask, did this child have hot liquid RED wax in their bedroom? good fucking question.
i have yet another child who's office 'workspace' is covered with candy wrappers, water bottles, dishes, cd's, dvd's, mxc's (no clue, just made that shit up)...you name it, it's on the desk in there. have i asked them to clean it up? of course. have i cleaned it up myself on occasion? of course. have i threatened to burn it down if it wasn't kept clean? probably so, now that i think about it. is it still a mess in there as i type? absolutely.
seriously, what in GOD'S name made me think i could actually handle raising children? the baby/young part was easy...i loved it when they were small and defenseless and messy and whiney. THAT was rewarding. this...really, not so much.
i'm overwhelmed and probably pms'ing. i have summer vacation approaching in 2 1/2 weeks and these little bastards are going to put up or...no, no 'or'...i'm starting a list, i'm not even going to check it twice - i know who's been lazy and who's going to have a whip cracked on their ass. i'm not a horrible parent. my kids are good kids, but they are even lazier than i am. i pray that ultimately, Lord willing, they will emerge as kind, albeit not organized or clean, adults...someday. but the next person that tells me to "be sure and enjoy them at this age because it all goes so fast", can pluck my mexican-by-injection switchblade out of their carotid and then kiss my ever-loving frustrated big ass.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
there once was this guy...
that i didn't know. something happened to him and suddenly he was gone. just...gone. i see the reaction of people that did know him and i am touched. so deeply. i hope he had a sense of how treasured he was while he was here. i do doubt it, though...
we all want to believe that we have made a difference in at least ONE other person's life, don't we? i mean yes, mom's know that they have spawned other little human beings - some definitely questionable on exactly what percentage of them are really human, but i digress. so, in the area of reproduction some of us have made a difference, but what i mean is within other people's hearts and souls. people we may have never met, people we may have met but not recognized that we have connected in some way. people we have known but not understood. people that we assume we have made no difference in them whatsoever.
do you ever wonder what people will say/think/believe about you if you were suddenly just...gone? it freaks me out, lol...don't you imagine that your friends would certainly miss something - if only the droning of your voice as you ramble on and on and on about things that no one in their right mind, or otherwise, could possibly find interesting? would they miss something as cool as listening to you describe your dog dragging his ass on the concrete patio as you stand there and try to have a serious conversation with your stripper/bug guy? would they miss listening to you actually cry about stupid things? something as stupid as, oh i don't know...the fact that you went to the freezer jonsing for some strawberry toaster strudels only to find that your little savage bastard hoover-vacuum children have eaten all of them once again, left the empty box in the freezer and you HAVE. JUST. HAD. IT with their little mooching ruinous asses? would they miss hearing you laugh about even stupider things? something like the fact that you actually managed to make yourself look even lower than the white trash that you are by getting busted "stealing" a broken toilet seat from a pile of discarded stuff that sits in the street waiting for the trash man because you think you can use part of it for a nifty redneck planter? what about missing you bitch about really intelligent things? things like OMGGGGG how pissed off you get when you gesture to your significant other to grab a line at costco that is suddenly shorter than the one you are standing in, and the person behind you hears you and darts to the short line before your guy even begins to process that you are asking him to do something? holy SHIT that makes my balls boil...but wait, this isn't about me, lol.
my point is i am sitting here wondering if everyone who has touched my life knows that they have and to what extent? i'm talking about the ones that have touched it in a positive way - believe you me...those other bastards definitely know they have fucked up. you can't let that shit slide. again, digression. sorry. stop and think about it...do you know? (where you're going to, do you like the things that life is showing you, do you know?) do your people know it from you? maybe you should tell them, show them, make sure they do know...but be careful, people tend to get freaked out if you just pop into their life and say "hey, you know i dig you right? no matter what? ok cool, just checking" and dart off again. maybe ease into it a with a little more subtlety. something a little more personal, like, "hey remember that rash you were complaining about that just showed up that one time we got shitfaced and woke up naked on the homeless docks? good times - everything clear up ok? cool, keep on keepin' on and know i dig you baby". see class really does make all the difference.
serially - know that i dig you baby
we all want to believe that we have made a difference in at least ONE other person's life, don't we? i mean yes, mom's know that they have spawned other little human beings - some definitely questionable on exactly what percentage of them are really human, but i digress. so, in the area of reproduction some of us have made a difference, but what i mean is within other people's hearts and souls. people we may have never met, people we may have met but not recognized that we have connected in some way. people we have known but not understood. people that we assume we have made no difference in them whatsoever.
do you ever wonder what people will say/think/believe about you if you were suddenly just...gone? it freaks me out, lol...don't you imagine that your friends would certainly miss something - if only the droning of your voice as you ramble on and on and on about things that no one in their right mind, or otherwise, could possibly find interesting? would they miss something as cool as listening to you describe your dog dragging his ass on the concrete patio as you stand there and try to have a serious conversation with your stripper/bug guy? would they miss listening to you actually cry about stupid things? something as stupid as, oh i don't know...the fact that you went to the freezer jonsing for some strawberry toaster strudels only to find that your little savage bastard hoover-vacuum children have eaten all of them once again, left the empty box in the freezer and you HAVE. JUST. HAD. IT with their little mooching ruinous asses? would they miss hearing you laugh about even stupider things? something like the fact that you actually managed to make yourself look even lower than the white trash that you are by getting busted "stealing" a broken toilet seat from a pile of discarded stuff that sits in the street waiting for the trash man because you think you can use part of it for a nifty redneck planter? what about missing you bitch about really intelligent things? things like OMGGGGG how pissed off you get when you gesture to your significant other to grab a line at costco that is suddenly shorter than the one you are standing in, and the person behind you hears you and darts to the short line before your guy even begins to process that you are asking him to do something? holy SHIT that makes my balls boil...but wait, this isn't about me, lol.
my point is i am sitting here wondering if everyone who has touched my life knows that they have and to what extent? i'm talking about the ones that have touched it in a positive way - believe you me...those other bastards definitely know they have fucked up. you can't let that shit slide. again, digression. sorry. stop and think about it...do you know? (where you're going to, do you like the things that life is showing you, do you know?) do your people know it from you? maybe you should tell them, show them, make sure they do know...but be careful, people tend to get freaked out if you just pop into their life and say "hey, you know i dig you right? no matter what? ok cool, just checking" and dart off again. maybe ease into it a with a little more subtlety. something a little more personal, like, "hey remember that rash you were complaining about that just showed up that one time we got shitfaced and woke up naked on the homeless docks? good times - everything clear up ok? cool, keep on keepin' on and know i dig you baby". see class really does make all the difference.
serially - know that i dig you baby
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
if you are easily offended - turn from me now. run for the light and cower there for the rest of your days. no really.
those of you who read my blog no doubt know that i tend to be opinionated and brash about certain things. obnoxious at times, yes. insightful at others if not at the same time, i hope so. whether or not you see things as i do, you get a feel for what i am all about and have realized that pretty much nothing is off limits for me.
sometimes i get tired of writing about the stupidity in my everyday life and cease to find things, although always comical...entertaining, if that makes a bit of sense. given the opportunity, what would you care to see through my eyes - well, anything but the eternal blackness brought upon by my untimely but-way-so-much-more-than-likely-humorous death? keep in mind that i may see something you feel is serious and/or tragic in a completely inappropriate light and then request accordingly. same goes for something you find funny that...well, isnt.
the only ONE rule is that there is no getting offended in the easy life - if we did that we'd spend the rest of our lives simply being pissed off at me, and really, what's the fun in that? give me some ideas and i'll turn out some shawna-ese for all the world to see. yea, ok...humor me here. one more note: always keep in mind that i am an equal-opportunity offender. no stereotype is safe from me...again, i can't be considered a terrible person if i make fun of EVERYone can i?
as always, (concerning my blog ONLY otherwise, i'll puddle up and cry like a little girl), please free to tell me to shut the fuck up if you can't stand the sound of my common sense and/or voice, and then either go away or continue to put yourself through blog hell by reading further. either way, Captain WRONG, i'm happy to entertain your rebuttals...even if they are ridiculously silly.
himme-bess-shah.
sometimes i get tired of writing about the stupidity in my everyday life and cease to find things, although always comical...entertaining, if that makes a bit of sense. given the opportunity, what would you care to see through my eyes - well, anything but the eternal blackness brought upon by my untimely but-way-so-much-more-than-likely-humorous death? keep in mind that i may see something you feel is serious and/or tragic in a completely inappropriate light and then request accordingly. same goes for something you find funny that...well, isnt.
the only ONE rule is that there is no getting offended in the easy life - if we did that we'd spend the rest of our lives simply being pissed off at me, and really, what's the fun in that? give me some ideas and i'll turn out some shawna-ese for all the world to see. yea, ok...humor me here. one more note: always keep in mind that i am an equal-opportunity offender. no stereotype is safe from me...again, i can't be considered a terrible person if i make fun of EVERYone can i?
as always, (concerning my blog ONLY otherwise, i'll puddle up and cry like a little girl), please free to tell me to shut the fuck up if you can't stand the sound of my common sense and/or voice, and then either go away or continue to put yourself through blog hell by reading further. either way, Captain WRONG, i'm happy to entertain your rebuttals...even if they are ridiculously silly.
himme-bess-shah.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
washington irving was one cool dude.
“There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are messengers of overwhelming grief...and unspeakable love.”
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