her way.

i am walking on the beach in Morro Bay last week with three people that i love dearly...as i stand still and watch the ocean waves rolling in, one of them creates a circle in the sand around me with her foot, flashes her smile and tells me that i am not allowed to leave it.

i oblige her for awhile but then inform her that it is time to head back to the car...and home. she thinks for a moment and then appears to solve her dilemma by drawing a line in the sand leading from the circle back down the beach, towards the car - which is maybe a half-mile away, but probably less - and instructs me to follow it, and only it. both feet, no stepping off.

she walks backwards, dragging her heel in the sand, her foot line twisting and turning - this cannot be a straight line, no....and i MUST walk it and never veer from it.  with my arms held straight out to my sides (to help balance the unbalanced, of course) i speed up and try and rush her progress, maybe make her trip and fall, but she commands me to stop when i catch up to her and laughingly orders me to wait for her to get ahead of me again before continuing.  as i totter along, i watch in front of me - behind her - hoping to subtlety direct her towards someone she will run into while not looking.  cause, well...that would be hilarious, but she mysteriously manages to miss everything and everyone in her path, rarely taking a peek to see where she was headed.  she is just following along the surf line. sort of...and backwards.



she switches feet, because the right one is cramping up, but continues on, still swirling and veering, twisting and turning her line in the sand.  she tries using her toes because she is getting tired and we still have a long way to go.  i taunt her and tell her she'll never make it. but i dutifully follow my path.

i hear laughter behind me and i turn - being ever so careful not to fall off my mark - to see an old woman walking the line directly behind me, arms out like mine, with her husband at her side laughing.  she looks at me, giggles again and says, "so, where are we going?!?"

quite honestly, it was one of the most joyous moments of my life.

the old woman follows along with us for a few seconds more and then takes her old husband's hand and they wander off closer towards the sea, smiling, laughing, playful - loving their lives. they left the line in the sand that was meant for me and continued along their own path.

we make it to end of the beach eventually. when we reach the rocks that we had to climb over to get to the car, the girl picks up and drags a 12 foot piece of seaweed over them, ordering me to walk only on that.  i'd take 5 steps, step off of it and have to wait for her to re-position it so that i could continue on.

she never stopped, she never gave up.
she led me all the way back.
and i let her.  because it was important....to both of us
i followed her every step of the way. her way,
and it made us happy.

he did what...?

i have a question of addiction...how does someone who has over indulged in alcohol- and i mean hard-fucking-core imbibing - for over 50 years just...stop?

it's a question that i've been asking myself for a few days now after i found out that someone close to me, who, as much as i am loathe and ashamed to admit,  i personally had accepted would be found dead in a gutter somewhere pretty much any day now, stopped drinking 5 months ago.  just made a decision that he wasn't going to drink anymore and put it the fuck DOWN. no rehab, no weaning, no sponsorship, no 12 step program, nothing. just stopped drinking.  and if that wasn't a big enough chunk to gnaw off, he stopped smoking as well.  cigarettes, not weed...he's not completely crazy.

i know people who have quit smoking and i know people who have quit drinking.  among them are those who just stopped one day, as well as those who struggled and backslid for YEARS before they were successful.  i know people who are sure they will die if they even attempt to quit smoking. i know people that would rather die than quit drinking. i have been exposed to addiction my entire life.  i live in fear of it's grip, not over me as much as over my children.  i firmly believe that the weakness for alcoholism, most likely to addiction in general, is a genetic predisposition. it is too prevalent in my family tree for me to ignore.

so...the question remains - how is it possible?  could he have not been addicted at all...?  over the years, alcohol has cost him jobs, relationships, homes, and other things - all just too numerous to count...is it possible that he just forrest gumped?  did he simply decide one day - after 50 years, 2 months, 14 days and 16 hours - that he was just "pretty tired"?

someday, i will ask him...for now i am still processing.  and happy for him.  really really happy for him.

the Tao and my anxiety

today is anxious.
i can't quite pinpoint why...i'm not sleeping well, i'm not eating much, i have a constant headache, i'm restless and bored, yet don't want to get out of bed.  i have plans to be away next week and i'm wishing i hadn't made them...although being away is always helpful, i know the anxiety always returns as soon as i have to.

i'm about sick of this shit.  i want to be happy when i open my eyes in the morning, not think "fuck...still here, still me".  i want to be enthusiastic about ANYTHING on a daily basis.  about life in general, for cripes sake...and so,

i'm starting to read the Tao...which is really interesting for me because i have never put any stock in anything like it before.  a friend of mine is really into it and just talking to him has helped, but then he turned me onto a video that has really started to change my way of thinking about my life - but it's such a fucking struggle to maintain a straight thought or keep my attention on anything for very long...regardless, it keeps pulling me back - i thought it was totally worth the 2 hours to watch it.  in fact, i've watched it twice already and gleaned even more from it the second time through.  it's about how we set traps for ourselves - and those around us - and get so wrapped up in our surroundings and our accomplishments and our things, that we forget to actually live our lives. it's powerful and practically slapped me in the face when i first started to watch it.  i found myself tearing up - i KNOW! - and furiously scribbling down notes, stopping the video and backing it up so i could hear something again. it's got a powerful message if you are ready to listen, because if you don't listen, you can't hear...

Dr Wayne Dyer: Ambition to Meaning - The Shift

so anyway, Dr Dyer references the Tao Te Ching, the things he had to say made me want to check it out for myself. the Tao is made up of verses to study and apply to your own life, to your own story. it's very cool. it's pretty deep, but so relative and powerful. i needed to read someone else's interpretation, cause it was all too much for my brain, it so happens that Dr Dyer took a full year to study the Tao and gives his interpretation, along with ideas for ways you can practice it in your own life.

Change Your Thoughts - Change Your Life: Living the Wisdom of the Tao

 i can only take one verse at a time, but i study it and try to apply it to my day for a couple of days...it's interesting, and it really is starting to change the way i look at things. AND i just realized that my anxiety has quieted down considerably just writing about it.

baby steps...

this morning. THIS moment...

i was awakened this morning to the sound of someone singing coming through the open window. when i say singing, i mean she was belting it the fuck OUT of the park.  i could hear no music and it didn't matter.  in fact, it made it even more incredibly beautiful.  this girl sang with fucking abandon.  pure unadulterated don't-give-a-flying-shit-who-hears-me abandon. it was seriously one of the most be beautiful things i've ever heard.  i bounced (BOUNCED - and i don't bounce) out of bed and ran to the window to see who it was, but no one was there.  still smiling, i grabbed my soup-kitchen britches, otherwise known as my jams, and went downstairs to grab some coffee and greet the day.

i wandered out to the front of the house. i stepped out onto the porch and saw that the purple irises were in full bloom, providing a perfect backdrop for what had always been one of my favorite places to sit here. fuckin-A, this was a good morning.

as i sat in the swing with my face to the morning sun, coffee in hand, looking at the grove of what has always been my favorite flower, i began thinking about why i loved irises so much;  they reminded me of growing up.  my mind drifted back to the singing girl and i started to tear up thinking of how much i missed being a little kid.  how much i missed being that fucking free.  out of the corner of my eye, i noticed that i wasn't the only one enjoying what was starting out as a perfect day.

He inched his way out from underneath the safety of the tree, searching for something delicious.  I startle him as I notice him and he starts to return to the tree.  He then freezes. Trying to detect danger.  He stops mid-chew - dandelion blossom dangling from his mouth. Finally, realizing that there is no real need to stop his search for food, he returns to the weed patch that is the front lawn and resumes his snacking.  He eventually stretches out with his belly on the cool grass, chewing his cud.  wait, do bunnies make cud?  He seems almost relaxed.  As much a bunny can relax.

Can bunnies ever really just chill?

He eventually retreats to the shade and protection of the pine tree…he – to me, it just seems like he’s a he - stretches out like a dog with his legs behind him, his chin down on the bed of pine needles.  His ears are up and alert, but his eyes drift towards closing. A red-winged blackbird swooping in from above startles him to an upright position, but again sensing no real danger, he starts to clean himself, pulling his ears down one at a time - a light cleansing this morning, nothing too intense.  All of a sudden, he drops and rolls in the dirt.  Again, like a dog he shakes himself off and resumes his stretched out position. I am officially in love with this bunny.

God, Fate, the Cosmos whatever you believe in, put me here in this spot, on this day, at this time. Me and the bunny.  me, the bunny and the irises in full bloom.  And the singing girl. This morning, this time, right now. This moment is so fucking good.

I Am Red.

Before you launch into this, make no mistake, this is indeed a pity party - but it was truly intended to be a personal one.  I decided to share it with you for a few different reasons.  Mainly due to the possibility that the mistakes I've made might help you avoid going through something like this down the road.  Personally, I was launched into the real world completely unprepared.  I can't remember if I was ever actually told that I could be anything, do anything, or achieve anything I wanted. What I do know, in retrospect, is that I set out searching for really nothing more than a safe haven in which I could spend the rest of my life...a place where I could love and be loved unconditionally. Never having been accused of being an over-achiever, I realize that this wasn't an incredibly grand plan, not incredibly ambitious or motivated. But it sounded nice to me then - comfortable and happy.   I still crave it to this day. It seems destined to remain just out of reach. and that is one of the shittiest feelings i've ever experienced.

I am red.

I am blue.

I am green.

I am yellow.

I am black.

I am angry.

I am sad.

I am envious.

I am anxious.

I am resentful.

I feel tricked and taken advantage of.  I feel like I have given everything I am and everything I have to people that cannot - or will not - consider giving back in my time of need.  There is no room right now for sacrifice in their hearts or in their lives.  They are too consumed with themselves and what they want.  They know that I am trapped without their help. They care, but not enough to change things.  Not enough to sacrifice for the one who has always done the sacrificing.

I feel devastated that when I finally get on my knees and beg for something that I think I truly need, I am led along like a fool, believing the lies half-truths because my survival depends on the outcome.  Clinging to what I know in my heart is probably too good to be true. And it turns out to be exactly that, just a cruel joke.  "Sorry, changed my mind…thought I could, said I would, but nope turns out I can’t/won’t/whatever help you.  But hey, hang in there buckaroo…it’s only 4 more years in your personal living Hell, you've survived more than that already, what's the big deal. get over it"

The big deal is that I feel such overwhelming, all-consuming sadness because my happiness has been relegated to the back burner, once again.  It’s how it has always been.  Their needs come first.  Mine are still secondary and always have been.  That is what I committed to when I got married, when I had children --- a life of sacrifice and of burying needs, wants and desires if they don’t mesh nicely with everyone else’s.  They don’t tell you when you are signing up that you are really signing off.  And now I have become a martyr.  Grrrrreat, the one thing I have always despised in my own mother is now my personal reality. The apple really doesn't fall far, does it?

Fuck.

I’m envious of those in my life that are fortunate enough to be in a place they love, surrounded by people that they love. Happy in their every days.  Ups and downs, yes.  But genuinely happy in the lives they have created for themselves.  I envy those who didn't make the same mistakes that I made, and those that perhaps made the mistakes, but were able to survive them and become stronger because of them.  My strength has been used up - I have summoned it in the past, it has helped me get through some tough shit along the way and it has gotten me to where i am now.  but...now...here, I no longer feel strong. I now feel broken.

Broken and anxious.  I am almost completely anxiety-driven when I am home.  I rarely eat. I have no motivation – I can’t stop stressing about what my life has become long enough to focus on anything.  I can’t sleep and when I do, I have dreams of stress and of being helpless.  Dreams of things falling apart around me with no clue as to how to stop it, let alone any power to protect those that I love.  I have dreams of spinning in circles with devastation surrounding me and people I love crying out for help, but I can’t find them in my dream.  I can’t find them and I can’t help them.  I have to listen to their cries and their pleas for help. I am powerless to do anything.  Then I wake up and realize nothing has changed.  I might as well still be dreaming.  I am powerless; I am broken.

I am resentful.  I am trying so hard to bury the anger and the hate and the blame and the RESENTMENT.  I know that I am responsible for the choices I have made.  I know that where I am is ultimately because of me.  I know that I chose this life.  But this is not the life I thought I was choosing.  All I ever really wanted was to matter.  To be loved and respected and needed.  By the people that I loved and respected and needed.  It hasn't worked out like that.  My kids won’t learn this shit until the damage is already done.  And yea, I’m pissed.  Between them and their dad, I have given everything I had to give, my body, my mental stability, my livelihood.  I have given up jobs, relationships and homes that I loved. I gave up a life that I had treasured, that brought me joy and happiness. I gave it all up for them.  Because I believed it was the best thing for them. I have gone to bat for each one of them when they felt they were being wronged, I have cultivated enemies on their behalf, I have supported them in everything {legal} that they thought they wanted to do – even the stupid, oh-so-stupid, shit.  I HAD THEIR BACKS.  ME.  Because that was my job.  That was my commitment to them when I married him and conceived them.  I didn't do it for the payback.  I have never asked for a payback.  I have asked for consideration, I have asked for respect, I have asked for cooperation.  And yes, I asked for support, and I dared believe that I would get it.

I have never felt more insignificant or alone as I do in the life that i have created, right here and right now.

so, this is weird.

there seems to be this campaign going on here that i've really heard nothing about.  i'm not sure who this girl is - but evidently my state has rallied for her.  i think it's cool and all - hey, i'm all for supporting the little guy - i just wish i understood more about what her story was.  i'm pretty good at research, but can't find anything that leads me to get why this chick has sweatshirts with her name on them.  i thought maybe she was running for some kind of political office.  nope.  i even entertained the idea that maybe she had been kidnapped and everyone in the state just really wants to find her.  nope, can't find a word about it in the news. i guess maybe she is just some chick who had a lot of money and just thought it would be cool to see her name on clothing...kind of an apparel-whore, if you will.  weird that i can find no background on her - no clue what her last name even is.  oh well, maybe someday she will become as famous as those other one-named fancy people.  like madognuts, wyde-loda or bouncy...it could happen.

anywho, i bought one of her sweatshirts for my dot - just kinda how i roll...always up for the mystery and whatnot.  regardless...GO NIA - cali's got yer back!

some noisy thoughts...

inspired by my girl KimmyG...

as the year comes to a close, i find myself with a lot to say about just a few things...normally i just roll with the new year and go about taking my life one day at a time.  i try to be a better person on a daily basis, but sometimes i backslide.  a lot.  here are my thoughts on that noise. and it may be a bit scattered, so hold on loosely - but don't let go.

it's been a year of change.  a beginning of a clearing of the head, so to speak.  well, it's still a work in progress, but i believe that i am finally on the right track after some serious alone time in my head.  i have learned that i have made it a life-long habit to trust others blindly and entirely too quickly.  i have learned that rarely do others think, feel and act as i do, would or will.  i am struggling with this being ok.  i expect people to reciprocate in like, and that, if not completely unrealistic, is definitely unfair.  i project onto them and then become disappointed and hurt when they can't or won't be, say or do what i expect of them. i'm working on that.

the changes i have made - am making - involve a lot of other people, which is odd because i really am a bit of a loner in my natural environment.  there are only a few people who really know me.  like seriously, maybe THREE, not counting my kids.  i have hurt some good people and i have definitely helped some not-so-good people...not the way it's supposed to work by any means, but it is what it is.  i'm still learning.

to quote kim;  "i learned some friendships you just outgrow, and others just weren't meant to be."  to add to that, i believe that all of our relationships serve a purpose.  even (maybe even ESPECIALLY) the toxic ones.  there truly is something beneficial to be found in each and every one of them...no matter how long they last, or how abruptly they end. find out what it is, appreciate it and learn from it.

i've learned that i slide when i fall, i no longer bounce like i used to.  like, i hit the ground and then find that i do stupid shit that makes the pain greater and last longer rather than just jumping up, shaking it off and dancing away until the next time.  yes, the road rash i am currently sporting on the right side of my face as i type is purely symbolic of a much deeper and more important lesson here - i'm talking life lessons - heart lessons - as well as face lessons.

i need to keep this in mind going forward...failing (and yes, falling) has become more painful as i get older and (hopefully) wiser.  i feel the after effects much longer.

i am finally learning to trust based on actions, not words.  i am learning that while words are immediate and soothing, repetition of them may be covering for the lack of sincerity behind them.  i am learning that if the right person tells you something honest and meaningful one time - even if they stumble over it and almost throw up saying it - it might be enough.  assuming, of course, that their actions follow through and support it.  it may not be necessary to hear that thing over and over again. NICE, yes...just not necessarily indicative of the honesty and the validity of the thing.  nuff said.

and so, life goes on...if we are lucky.

hopefully we surround ourselves with people who love us in spite of ourselves. i seem to.

(illegal) conversations while driving...

i was talking on the phone with a friend today who has been having some trouble with her teenagers.  (she says as if this is headline news in ANY dimension).  she was very upset at a pretty serious turn of events of late regarding her kids. very upset.  lots of guilt and embarrassment and feelings of failure. again, typical - i think - for the average mother of teenagers to experience. the little bastards suck the life right out of you.  there is a reason God made us love them so fucking much...but, i digress.

so, back to HER story...she was crying and i was trying to put a positive, if not bright, spin on the situation, asking a few questions and getting a few answers in return.  between us we had established that this new situation was probably, ultimately a pretty good thing to have happened.  timing, location...all of it - seemed really shitty on the surface, but when we broke it down we both realized that it was not as horrible as it had at first seemed.  still not an ideal situation, but far from as bad as it could have been in the grand scheme of things. in fact, parts of it were actually going to work out rather awesomely.

having made her giggle at something stupid - yet visually hysterical, i might add - we were wrapping up our conversation and i said to her "i am such a firm believer that things really do happen for a reason - we don't always get it, but that doesn't mean that we won't some day" and she says to me in her soft, tear-hitchy voice, "i've been praying for answers lately, anything to help me help my kids before it's too late."

this may not seem huge, or revelational (is that a word?) or anything out of the ordinary to you, but i experienced a DUH moment that instant...this situation we had been discussing - this PROBLEM - was the answer to those prayers she had just mentioned as an afterthought.  not how she had imagined they would be answered, to be sure...but damn, i pert-near heard the tabernacle choir belting out a hallelujah right then. i literally got goosebumps.

now, you may or may not believe in a higher power.  maybe you believe instead in the power of positive thinking or maybe you think that faith is simply misguided desperation.  whatever, for me this was powerful shit.  so powerful that i'm still thinking about it 7 and a half hours later and it fills me with this...this...hope.  it leads me to think that perhaps my life isn't just a badly written soap opera...that maybe there is a path for me and that i just have to pay better attention to where i am being guided.  maybe i need to allow myself to BE guided.  maybe i need to toss aside my preconceived notions of where i think i should be going and what i think i should be doing, and what i think the answers are, effectively ending the constant struggle i have within myself to direct everything towards my idea of the endgame.  what if i just continue to do what i know to be the right things, but allow other things - things i really have no clue about - to just...........happen?
whoa.
is that lame? is that giving up? bending over? CAPITULATION?
i don't know.
i will tell you that it gave me the first ray of hope that i have had in a long while.  i even experienced a split second of clarity.  so that must be a god thing, right?
that was a total typo.  i swear i typed "so that must be a good thing"

so anyway - there's this

and, on that note...i think it's time for mr nyquil to tuck me into bed   :)

toxicity. some people just like to say..."toxicity".

i've been gone for awhile - ventured out to do a few different things, and i've made a lot of serious changes in the last year or so.  i won't burden you with everything, but i will give you the low down on a couple things that i've learned:

1)  i've learned that even when you think your life is ok just the way it is, sometimes it needs to be tweaked.  not because it's the easy thing to do and maybe even more rarely because it's the smart thing to do.  it is necessary because it is the RIGHT thing to do...i did some serious tweaking (as opposed to twerking, although if i did do that - it would be epic-ally serious) about a year ago. hurt some people that i will always love dearly, very badly and i will forever hate that i had to make that choice, but it needed to be done - i think it was the right thing to do. i stand here almost 14 months later and i have never doubted what i had to do.  i hope to eventually right all of my wrongs and revisit the life i left, after i am well.  until then, though.

2)  i learned that it's so important, once you actually take the above leap, to continue looking forward - backwards is fine if you are a fan of Every Chick Ever In a Horror Movie Chase Scene and you feel the strange need to trip and fall and be doomed forever...but me?  that shit just pisses me off.

3)  i have learned - and, oddly enough, this completely unrelated to number 1, totally different category of people - that some of the people that you love the most are the worst people in the world to surround yourself with in your every day life.  these are people that, if you can't bring yourself to rid yourself of them completely, should at the very least be put upon a shelf.  sure, you can take them down occasionally and dust them off as long as you know, without a doubt, that you are strong enough to put them right back up there at the first sign of drama. some family members and all snookie-lovers belong in this category.  sorry:  see number 4.

4) i learned that you can't always protect others from the harshness of the truth. i have spent nearly all of my adult life trying to create a buffer between painful truths and the people that, for whatever reason, i felt needed to hear them.  i realized that sometimes the buffer i created actually worked as a deflector.  it did it's job too well and i'd come to find out that the truth never really reached it's target because i was trying so hard to protect the one that needed to hear it.  so here i am going about the painful process of being honest and trying to, what i believe to be enlightening someone - so desperate to protect their feelings, yet get them to understand - and i was sabotaging my intentions the entire time.  bottom line:  be gentle, but be sure you actually hit your mark.  much less damage this way.  and yes, THIS is totally related to number 1.

5)  i've learned that living in an apartment is the least conducive place for this girl's healthy mental state.  ok, so living in a van by the river might not be so hot either...but, i can only attest to what i actually know, and so far, apartments depress the ever-living SHIT out of me.

6)  i've learned that no matter what i have convinced myself of in the past as far as relationships go, i need to be challenged.  i need to be called on my shit. and yes, i do spew some from time to time.  i have had only a few long-term/serious relationships.  the first one, i was too young and completely clueless - looking back i now know that i did just about everything wrong there.  following that, i became entirely too subservient and controlled...according to that one, i just wasn't good at very much.  thirdly,  i was treated like a queen - i seemed to have bypassed the princess status and went straight to the Grand Dame.  it wasn't that i did nothing wrong here, it's just that even when i did screw up - it was just no big deal.  sweep that shit under the rug and let's eat.  i think that i have learned that all of these were just too extreme for me, not necessarily bad - just not right.  i need in-between in my life.  i need yin and yang; NOT to be confused with conflict.  i do not need that bullshit. i need to be allowed to be me as long as me is decent, kind and patient - and i'm not always.  i need to be checked when i forget that life isn't all about me.  i need to be reminded - nicely, of course - that sometimes shit sucks but it's a part of life. i have learned that i need balance.

7)  i have learned that i need to write.  it cleanses me. it gives me clarity.   i've learned that i cannot survive without clarity - it provides me with silence.  not literal silence - that is a rarity  - but a mental quieting.  my brain is a strange place - but it's fun and mostly cluttered.  we're talking CONSTANT chatter.  i need to step back on occasion and do something to make it just shut the fuck up...getting the noise out of my head and onto paper gives me this silence...followed by sweet, sweet clarity.  it is a good thing.

8)  i've learned that i believe we all invite toxic thoughts, situations and people into our personal bubbles. usually unintentionally, although, there are one or two people i know who simply must thrive on the drama of fucked up situations and relationships, as they do absolutely nothing to rid themselves of all of this crap in their lives, and actually seem to continue to pile it on day after day, year after year.  personally,  i'm learning that this cycle can be broken.  i'm learning to break free from myself.

:)

all kindsa fucked up.

i was told last week that i was to not blog about what's been going on in my life.  it's private, shawna...keep it that way.  know what?  this is me...giving a shit about what you think.  i communicate, it's what i do...i realize that's a foreign concept to you.  oh, and you know what else?  ...fuck you.  just because you continue to hide everything away so no one will ever discover the truth about you, doesn't mean i have to.  not any longer. you aren't my real dad.  my real dad digs me.


<3 i love you, real dad <3

i am in turmoil.  like i haven't been in a really long time...things keep hitting me from all sides and i'm buckling.  seriously.  i truly am a weak person.  sure, i can be strong on the outside and around people i don't love. i will protect and shield those i do love, when they need it.  but, get me inside, surrounded by my heart and i am a complete mess.  i cry, i question everything i've ever done.  it blows balls.  i am all kindsa fucked up.

out of respect for those involved, i won't go into details, as much as i feel the desire to...i will say that i have hit a wall in one respect - i'm out of ideas. i've beat my head against this for about 3 years now over the same thing.  even when it appears to be, it's not better, just smoke and mirrors.
{hahahahaaaa, omg i just made a joke and you have no clue.  seriously, i think i'm finally going bat-shit crazy.  ok...back to the surface i go.}
the truth is, nothing has really changed in this situation...all of the talking and rationalizing and deal-making.  none of it seems to have made any difference...it's still going downhill.  or at the very least, plateaued at a not-so-great-actually-rather-shitty-when-you-really-look-at-it level.  i went to my final at-bat with regards to this last week and i'm pretty sure i have still failed.  time will tell, but it's not looking good.  does there comes a point in certain relationships where it's better if we say "fuck it, i really truly gave it my all and i don't know what else to do" and let the chips fall where they fall?  is there really is a point in which you can do no more to help someone see a positive path?  this will come back to bite me in the ass, i have no doubt.  somehow, it will fall back on me - but i really truly have no other aces up my sleeve right now.  it's quite possibly time to let what will be, be.

on another front, i have been fucked over by my personal sense of trust and judgement.  it is really messing with my head.  someone i trusted with all of me turned out to be nothing but a manipulative piece of judgmental, psychotic shit.  don't really want to talk about that.  it is very nerve-wracking.  but, i find myself questioning every thing and worse, every ONE right now. good on you, you piece of shit...you have infiltrated the inner sanctum.  you have fun with that...you fucked up mother-fucker.

lastly - i don't mean to be cryptic, but stick with me here, i do have to protect the "innocent" - someone close to me is echoing someone else who used to be close to me.  in a very painful way and, therefore...it really fucking hurts. bad.  like a knife directly into my gut and then twisted over and over again, bad.  back to the questioning everything.  this has me rethinking everything i've spent the last 25 years doing.  everything.  think about it.   go back 25 years and question the direction you set off in back then.  maybe you shouldn't have taken that particular path, eh?  maybe, just maybe, you should have done something COMPLETELY different.   like, oh...i dunno...become an astronaut, a hobo, a fucking nun*, for that matter...ANYthing other than what you chose.  you were clearly not cut out for this shit. in fact, you are definitely sucking at it.  you are sucking at your chosen way of being a contributing member of life right now.


(*hahahhaaaaa...i said "a fucking nun").


these things have me seriously wondering if i may really, honestly be a certifiable head-case. (all together now..."nooooo, really?")  it would maybe not explain everything, but would at least give a reasonable platform for all that is fucked up.  normally, i would think that possibility was totally cool and bask in it, but i still have to be a responsible person for some people in my life.  ball-blowing, i say.

it's a shitty place to be and i'm really trying to find happy-shawna - she is still in there, just squashed a bit by feelings of inadequacy and worthlessness.  usually this passes, but i've never actually been up against what i am facing now.  i'm a little bit scared, and that just doesn't happen that often. i'm not sure what to do with it.

hold on loosely, bisshes....don't let go.

to shoot or not to shoot...

school rant #3:

go ahead and add the high school nurse to the list of people that hate me...i'll wait.

CA kids are now required to have a bullshit booster shot or they will not be allowed to enroll in school next year. the martinez kid is stressed about not getting his schedule if i don't race down and pay for a booster shot that he shouldn't need. another bullshit scare tactic.  the school's need the money, they'll let my kid in; i just have to sign a waiver. can i really be the only one that calls them on their freakin' dumbass rules? according to the nurse...pretty much, yea.


she told me it was for the safety of my child.  we had a whooping cough "epidemic" in CA last year and 7 kids died.  i asked her if all of those kids had been immunized or if the parents had opted out and she said, and i quote "uhm, i can't verify that - i can tell you that almost all of them either hadn't started or hadn't finished their series of childhood immunizations". 

yea.  that's what i thought.  you know, you peeps that choose to not immunize your kids - for whatever reason - are largely to blame here.  people dying from the freakin whooping cough? in this day and age - seems a bit ridiculous.  i immunized my kids...i didn't like it, they didn't like it, i stressed when they ran fevers afterward - but i did it.  i followed the rules, like a good trained meenky.  now those of you who didn't are threatening the health of MY kids? kinda pisses me off.


i know, i know...immunizations are maybe linked to autism and other things, i get it.  it's a personal decision whether or not to immunize.  personally, i figured the odds of my child developing something terrible after getting shots were slim enough.  plus,  i would rather my children and i be the ones that suffered from my decision TO immunize, instead of a school full of kids that get polio because of my decision to NOT. again, personal choice; no judgment.

argh.  i live in a freakin' community of cattle.  they just go along to get along.  "oh, the state said so?  ok, they must know what they are doing." uhhhh, yea.

jeebus, marcus and jimbob.

with all due respect, william and kate...

i am freaking seething right now.  therefore, i'm once again all over the map :)

two weeks ago my 5th grader informed me that she watched portions of the royal wedding in class that day.  that earned an internal eyeroll on my part, thinking to myself "how the fuck does this even begin to pertain to the education of an 11-yo girl?"  but, i managed to keep my disdain inside as i asked her how the teacher tied that into her average school day...not surprisingly, she had no clue..."i dunno, it was just on".  this morning, the final launch of the space shuttle Endeavor was televised live from Cape Canaveral shortly after her school day started.  this afternoon, when i asked her if they watched it in class, she said to me, "what's a space shuttle?" 

whattheeffevs. i'm so over this school district and their Nazi-control-freak-about-ridiculous-things-yet-clueless-about-things-that-might-actually-affect-the-kids-in-a-positive-way ways. these kids can only wear shorts to school from may through september...keeping in mind they are out of school june, july and august of those 5 months and that central valley often reaches into the triple-digit temps well into october.  they are told that the shorts are a distraction and they are lucky they are allowed to wear them at all during the school year.  these kids also have rules about how long their hair can be - well, the boys have rules; the girls, not so much.  their hair cannot be in their eyes, cannot be past their earlobes and cannot touch the collar of their shirt at the back of the neck.  i'm told it's a "distraction" if these guidelines aren't kept. once,  i went so far as to suggest braden use a hair clip to keep his hair back out of his eyes...the administrator didn't see the humor and denied my request. one time, at band camp, my child was pulled out of class and sent to the office to call me for a change of clothes because he had a factory-ripped (and patched) 1.5" tear in his jeans.  evidently, pulling him out of class and sending him to the office wasn't a distraction, but the sewn-up tear was. our kids no longer recite the Pledge of Allegiance at school and if they were to, "God" wouldn't be allowed to participate.  everyone in sports gets a ribbon because if there were such things as winners and losers, feelings would get hurt. uhm, yea...i could go on.  

re-fucking-diculous.

side note:  there are parts of our dress code that i do understand:  no pro-sports team jerseys, hats, logos whatever.  it's a gang thing, check;  ass cheeks are not to be hanging out when they are allowed to wear shorts.  it's a horny teenager thing, check;  camouflage clothing (unless it's pink) is not allowed.  ok, not sure what the reasoning here is, unless they are afraid they'll lose a kid or two during the day to the underbrush outskirts of the enemy's perimeter *eyeroll*, but whatever, i've let it slide.  check.

sorry, back to my original rant.  at Garfield Elementary in Clovis CA, our 11 year old kids are watching the royal wedding in class, but not the launch of a space shuttle into space.  INTO SPACE.  that's still a big deal, right?  i mean, obviously it was back in the dark ages of *my* 5th grade. the AV nerds lived for shit like that.  rolling the equipment into the classroom, anticipation building because we were going to get to watch TV!  surely, America's space program still contains a "teachable moment" or two for science, for technology, for history, for SOMETHING, no?

in the news just last week:  "The World Economic Forum ranks the USA 48th in math and science education...On America’s latest exams (the National Assessment of Educational Progress), one-third or fewer of eighth-grade students were proficient in math, science, or reading. Our high-school graduation rate continues to hover just shy of 70 percent, according to a 2010 report by the Editorial Projects in Education Research Center, and many of those students who do graduate aren’t prepared for college. ACT, the respected national organization that administers college-admissions tests, recently found that 76 percent of our high-school graduates “were not adequately prepared academically for first-year college courses.”

http://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2011/06/the-failure-of-american-schools/8497/

48th?!?  how is that even fucking possible? how is that acceptable, how did this happen, we ask...well, *i'm* asking anyway.  in a phone call to the school tomorrow; in a letter to the school district this week and in a letter to the editor of every CA newspaper i can get ahold of.  i'm naming names, mary.  i'm fed up with this elitist, uppity and IGNORANT bullshit.  ok, quite honestly i've been fed up with it for a long time - but hey, i'm actually going to do something about it beyond my local bitching this time.  i let a lot of shit roll, i'm aware of that...and this royal wedding vs space shuttle launch in the classroom bullshit is small stuff in the grand scheme of things...but jeebus, it has something to say to everyone of us.  i think it's time we paid attention to what

should be sleepin'...

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.

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

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.