Thanks!

To my new followers (including but not limited to myself; yeah, that's right, I follow my own blog. Something wrong with that?). It is really sweet of you guys! I'd also like to take this opportunity to say that my followers are the coolest mo-fo's around!

I think I may have took a little too much hydrocodone syrup... I just love being high on this shit!

I feel...

like shit, tonight. I have the all-to-familiar feeling that I'm coming down with something, yet again. My immune system sucks beyond belief. The conundrum is that I look physically well, but inside it's all a big system of malfunctioning crap. Someone told me I was a hypochondriac. I wish this were true! However, in the past, when I've gone to the doctor thinking things were a little bad, they always turn out to be much worse. I guess at this point I should be one. Maybe if I caught things in early stages, they would not be so bad.

Anyway, I don't think it's anything life threatening by any means. I just feel worn out and achy. All of this will inevitably make me depressed in the end, so then I'll have to battle that. But so it goes...

It feels as though I'm just writing for the sake of writing, tonight. That is not a good feeling for me, as I really don't care for things that I call "filler." However, it's the most I can muster tonight, and it'll have to do.

Oh, and...

Anthony Hopkins's portrayal of Hannibal Lecter. I can't believe I forgot that one!

What Dreams May Come

I had a dream about a former college professor of mine, last night/this morning. Unfortunately, I can't remember many details. We were in what appeared to be a shopping mall but representative of a college cafeteria of sorts. We were talking and walking and seemed to be having a nice time, although I was a little worried someone would see us. I mentioned this to him, and he said he didn't give a damn. After that, I felt somewhat better. My memory on this is very vague (possibly because I took two sleeping pills last night). More of it may come back to me in flashes throughout the day. I really hope so. It would be quite interesting to break it down and try and analyze what it meant, as I do believe wholeheartedly that most dreams do have some kind of meaning behind them, especially the ones you care to remember.

The title of this blog is also a Robin Williams movie. Maybe it's the hopeless romantic in me, but I really liked the film. Even if an afterlife isn't real, it's still a nice thought while you are living. Now that is the optimist in me talking. It could very well be that being a hopeless romantic and an optimist go hand-in-hand. Throw in being masochistic and we really have a good time!

Current movies I've had the pleasure (or lack thereof) of watching: Burn After Reading (My sister's Christmas present to me; I'm glad someone pays attention to things I would like), Hamlet 2, Descent, Searching for the Wrong Eyed Jesus, Bodies, Rest, & Motion, A Little Trip to Heaven, and Last Tango in Paris. These have been watched over the last month (didn't want anyone to think that I have NO life, although you wouldn't be far off base).

My favorite of these would have to be, of course, Last Tango in Paris. I found myself so helplessly in love with Marlon Brando's character. This could very well be the kind of man I could spend the rest of my life with. Well, at least moments of the rest of my life. Our fears of commitment and fears of nonphysical intimacy are so very, very compatible. Not to mention the fact that although we fear it and run from it, it finds us and then screws us over in a big, big way. It is our own faults, of course, that this happens. We only want more when we cannot have it. We have all the power until we show weakness, and then we are powerless and loving it. We are both confusing to others because of our shifty and dodgy natures. And it is all very sad and very erotic. There is no sex like the sex of desolation.

On a lighter note, Hamlet 2 was funny as hell in parts. Steve Coogan's character was so lovable but not doable. I couldn't sleep with someone that passionate and with such a head-in-the-clouds personality. I just realized how often I think about a man's character in a film, while sizing him up to being someone I either could or could not sleep with. I'm such a dude sometimes! Or maybe I have to objectify them in order to feel connected.

Movie characters I would so sleep with: Jack Nicholson's potrayal of The Joker, Jack Nicholson's character in Terms of Endearment, Jack Nicholson's character in The Shining, Jack Nicholson's character in The Witches of Eastwick, Robert DeNiro in Cape Fear, Colin Firth's character in And When Did You Last See Your Father, Clive Owen in Beyond Borders, and last but definitely not least, Javier Bardem in No Country for Old Men. It may appear to you that I need to get laid. I'm not arguing the point.

Last Night

I couldn't sleep as usual and I had this big, elaborate blog all plotted out in my mind. I refused to write because I told myself if I just lay there a few more motionless minutes, I would eventually fall asleep. This worked after about an hour.

I'm a person who is at peace with being a loner. The majority of my life has been spent either alone physically or mentally. This concept is nothing new to me. However, there is nothing more lonely than lying in bed and not being able to fall asleep. Someone lying next to me, would not alleviate this problem, so I'm not looking for companionship in that sense. Actually, come to think of it, that makes matters worse. In that scenario, not only does the sense of isolation come in to play, but also the greatest sense of envy that one could ever feel. I want so badly to be asleep and peaceful, just as they are.

When I was much, much younger (child and adolescent) and I'd be in bed with someone, such as my grandmother (who I love dearly and would never intentionally hurt), she'd be trying to fall asleep and I'd do whatever I could to keep her awake. Even if it meant giving her a "wet willy," which could sound more gross than it actually is, so let me clarify what that means: lick your finger, stick it in someone's ear and wiggle it around. This is a very annoying trick that I learned from my uncle. I am forever in debt.

I'm surprised that any of my friends ever wanted me to sleep over. I guess when you're a kid, you don't plan ahead for the friend who won't let you drift off to Dreamland. They probably regretted their decision later on in the night, I'm sure.

Now, I'd like to think that a significant other would at least partially enjoy the fact that I'll do nearly ANYTHING to keep them awake. But still, at some point, even this could prove tiring.

So, anyway, back to the point I was getting at when I started this, I had a good blog planned, but I seem to have forgotten any details I had come up with. I do, however, remember a new book idea. It could be my best one yet. It's an idea that could be made into the Indie film of my dreams.

Semester's Over

And not a moment too soon.

I'm going to keep it short, tonight. I should be giving my kids a bath but I haven't yet mustered up the energy to get up and do it. I'm so lazy.

I finally went back to work, today. It was nice. I even worked more hours than I was suppose to. Part of the reason for this is because we'll be off all next week, except for Monday and Tuesday. I'm not sure that getting over 19 hours in one week, while only getting maybe 10, the next is alright. The work-study program I'm in stipulates a 19 hour/week maximum. The lady I work with/for said it would be fine, though. I'll take her word for it. Mainly, I just need the money and I appreciate her giving me a chance to make more.

Maybe I'll write more, tomorrow. Especially if I get bored at the job I'm getting paid to do almost nothing at. Perfect job for me!

For my Friend, Who's Bored at Work

I'm not sure reading this will help your boredom, but at least it might kill 5 minutes of your time. I'm so proud of you for working at an 8-5 job. I've come to realize that I do not have the patience for it and that really makes me upset at myself. I don't even have the patience for a 4 hour/day job! Guess I'll never be a productive member of society. What can I offer? In my greatest hopes, maybe a book or two that might never get published or read widely. I can't say they won't be read at all, however, because I do have friends and family who I would force to read them. Hopefully at the very least they would read them out of a sense of obligation, otherwise I'd have to use Chinese torture methods. Those are never fun.

Yesterday, I came up with the conclusion that I might be happier if I'd quit thinking so much. Then I started thinking about how not to think. You see where I'm going with this. Think, think, think. The voices in my head never shut the hell up! They're always pondering, nagging, praising, chastising, encouraging, discouraging, soft-spoken, screaming, and so on and so forth. I tried hypnotizing myself but that was the biggest mistake ever. I've tried meditation but that didn't work. Maybe I'm just not doing it right...

I could see a therapist but there's really no way they are going to tell me something I don't already know. I'm sure a lot of people think that before they go to therapists, only to discover that they were wrong and that people on the outside can see things that they cannot. But I KNOW that he/she will only see less than what is there. And they'll give me some antidepressants that do absolutely nothing for me except make me wonder why they're not working, which makes me only worry more about my mental instability. And not to mention that these get costly and I have no insurance.

I did talk to a therapist, once. I think I was about 18 or 19. It was before I got married for the first time, anyway, but I was dating my soon-to-be future ex-husband. We had been arguing, as we always did, and though this time was nothing new or special, it caused me to have a bit of a breakdown. I mean, I really flipped out on him, my mom, and every other poor soul who happened to be in the line of fire, so to speak. I just took off running as fast as I could out my mom's back door and into the woods. When they found me, later, I was naked and trying to build a tree house. Nah, I'm joking about that. Fact is I never made it to the woods because my ex was faster than me and caught me before I could make my great escape. That was my first panic attack and it sucked, royally.

Let me describe a panic attack for those who have never had one. First you feel like you can't breathe and each breath seems to be pointless. You tell yourself not to panic because it will only make it worse, which of course makes you panic more. It really feels like something you will not survive. Then after about a minute or two (feels like 30) you are back to normal. Whatever that is. Basically, it's an un-fun experience that you would only wish on your worst loved one.

Well, I hope this has been as interesting for you as it has been for me!

Book Idea

I'm thinking about writing a book about my own journey into death. It seems grim, I know, but bare with me. I can imagine Oprah adding it to her book club and then bringing me on her show to scold me for not being terminally ill or for not having a DDD (designated death date). My response will be, "Oprah, are we not all dying?" How could she argue? And then I'd point out that we never know when we will meet our end, so if I were to die the next day, would she recant her objections to the obtuse nature of my novel? I doubt she would because Oprah is always right. You don't get to be rich and powerful without being right, right?

I really don't know where I'm going with this thought. It just sprang into my head, as so many things do, and I felt like typing it out. Plus I thought this blog lacked a little imagination--Joke of the Day.

Why do I feel so internally tortured? And why do I never write anything positive in my blogs? In reality, I'm a pretty optimistic, happy-go-lucky person. Maybe I'm afraid that optimism seems ignorant and if one truly understands things, there is no way they can be optimistic. But, again, I AM an optimist, dammit, so I shall rebuke that theory and trade it in for visions of sunshine and rainbows. I really seem to be cynical as of late...

Sorry Blog

I've been neglecting my blog, as of late. I'm pretty much new to this kind of thing, anyway. It's a miracle I even do it at all, considering.

My daughter is alright. Her surgery went well for the most part, except we had to stay overnight at the hospital, which was unexpected. That sucked. But all's well that ends well and she's almost back to her old self. She's laying next to me as I write this. I can't understand why this is not boring to her, considering she can't read. Well, I'm being a bit presumptuous. If she could read, she would have probably gotten up and left by now. It's probably more exciting to watch me type and see the letters pop up on the screen than to actually read what I'm writing, today. This is really sad when I take into account that I'm an aspiring, creative writer.

Anyway, I may seem to be in a mood today. That is easily explained by the fact that I am in a mood, and a crappy one at that. I decided to try and quit taking pain killers on a somewhat regular basis. My brain does not seem to be happy with this, but I think it's better for us in the long run. And by "us" I do mean my brain and I because at times I believe we are separate from each other. It's complicated.

So, at least now I know what recovering drug addicts mean by taking it one day at a time. Actually, I think I learned that lesson when I quit smoking the last time I quit smoking. I'm currently a smoker. Maybe I torture myself by trying to get addicted to things, becoming addicted, and then quitting. It's a test of strength and endurance. A test of which I fail even after passing.

My daughter's breath has been really, really bad after her surgery. It's appallingly bad. So bad that I feel almost nauseated by it. Yet, when she wants to be near me or wants to kiss me, I am happy. This proves the theory that not only is love blind, it also causes chronic olfactory dysfunction (and yes, I did Google that). Her voice even sounds a little different. It's more nasally right now, but it sounds exceptionally sweet and innocent, which is just how a child should sound.

And the Shit Keeps Coming

Took my daughter to the ENT specialist, today. She's had an appointment for weeks, but it just so happens that she was sick, as well. Good timing on that one! Bad news is that she's going to have to have her tonsils and adenoids taken out. She may have to get tubes in her ears, also. Her surgery's scheduled for December 2nd. The first date they gave me was on Tuesday, right before Thanksgiving. I opted out of that one for obvious reasons. I feel for her. If I could have the surgery for her, I would. And it's not only because I like surgery that I would do so. I also happen to like my daughter quite a bit and never, ever want her in any pain. However, I'm somewhat of a realist and I know that's not possible. On the plus side, I'm sure she will feel so, so, so much better after she heals. Her poor throat is almost completely closed up by two giant boulders. They've been this way for awhile, but the docs always said she was too young to have the surgery until now.

Tomorrow is Big Speech Day. I'm not ready for it by any means. I'm hoping to catch a second wind at some point tonight. At this moment, I'm far to exhausted to even consider working on it. Most of the info is ready and the PowerPoint slide, as well. I just need to organize it all and use a stopwatch to check my timing. It can't be over or under 5 minutes. Half of the class did their's on Tuesday. They were pretty underwhelming for the most part. At least I won't have any hard acts to follow, I suppose. Listening to some of them, I thought about how different I am. On my critiques, purely for shits-n-giggles (and maybe a tinge of utter boredom), I threw in an added bonus by suggesting future occupations for the speakers. They never get to see their critiques, but I thought at least the professor would get a kick out of it. That's yet to be seen. I don't think he's getting many kicks at all, lately. Then again, who is?

I'll keep you multitudes of avid readers informed on all of my progress. I should apologize for the sarcasm, but I'm not in a very apologetic mood. Peace and love, everybody, especially you, Stephen Colbert!

Sorry I Missed Our Meeting

It's been an overwhelming week thus far. Hopefully, soon, I'll be able to get back on track with things that are important to ME. I really, really miss it.

School's been a bitch. I only have 2 classes but it seems like I have 10. Maybe it's because everything seems to be due at the same time. I also have a speech coming up. I really, really, really hate giving speeches. Especially when I know the whole classroom is critiquing it. I read some critiques from my speech last semester. It gave me the impression that when most of the pea-brained students I'm forced to call peers, hear the word critique, they think of criticism. What that translates to is the fact that they feel they must put down something negative about the person in order for it to be complete. One literally said that I licked my teeth too much. I've developed somewhat of a complex about this now. Maybe I should just come to terms with my oral fixation? Or maybe I should evaluate the source of the critique...

At any rate, I am making progress and will be locked, loaded, and ready by Thursday. If nothing else, I could just stand up there and tie a knot in a cherry stem using only my mouth.

Beginnings are always fresh, new, and exciting. Middles are plateaus. Endings are tiresome and bittersweet.

My oldest son is about to enter his teenage years. He's having the same hard time with my father as I did. I developed a theory on one of the reasons that adolescence is so hard. This may not be and original theory, however, as it would seem that most of my writings are not, but I'll write it just the same. When you're a child, everyone is great. Pure, innocent love is blind. You see no fault in the most faulty of people. Then one day, you become self-aware and environmentally-aware. You start realizing suddenly that people are sometimes, if not oftentimes, assholes. It's somewhat of a paradigm shift in your heart and mind. Think of how much this can hurt. One day life is perfect, the next, it's brutal. I wish I could freeze time for my children, often. I don't want them to lose that unmistakable gleam in their eyes. I never want them to not smile when they see me after a long day apart. But, alas, they will grow up and my role will fade. My heart breaks just thinking about it.

These Lyrics Remind me of Him...

Jolene- Ray LeMontagne

Cocaine flame in my bloodstream
Sold my coat when I hit Spokane
Bought myself a hard pack of cigarettes in the early morning rain
Lately my hands they don't feel like mine
My eyes been stung with dust and blind
Held you in my arms one time
Lost you just the same
Jolene
I ain't about to go straight
It's too late
I found myself face down in a ditch
Booze in my hair
Blood in my lips
A picture of you holding a picture of me
In the pocket of my blue jeans
Still don't know what love means
Still don't know what love means
Jolene
Been so long since I seen your face
Or felt a part of this human race
I've been living out of this here suitcase for way too long
A man needs something he can hold onto
A nine pound hammer or a woman like you
Either one of them things will do
Jolene
I ain't about to go straight
It's too late
I found myself face down in a ditch
Booze in my hair
Blood on my lips
A picture of you holding a picture of me
In the pocket of my blue jeans
Still don't know what love means
Still don't know what love means
Jolene
Jolene
Jolene


I highly recommend listening to it on YouTube. I would put it up on here, but I'm tired, and maybe not quite that blog-savvy. I won't say which because I like to keep my options open...

I'm Done with Bullshit

I have no time and no patience for it. My life is full of trials and tribulations and those are the things I need to focus on. Therefore, it's time overdue to cut the fat.

This may be my most blunt title, thus far. However, I'm in a blunt-ass mood, tonight, so it seems fitting enough. I don't play games with people because, frankly, I'm just not bored enough to do that, anymore. I feel pity for those who are. But not enough pity to stay involved in their fuck-for-all lifestyle. That was so last year.

Another thing that annoys me in unreliability. If you say you're going to do something, do it. Don't use some lame-ass line such as "I keep my options open," when it's clearly not the case.

That's all I have to say on that note because I basically don't want to waste anymore blog or mind space on inconsequential brain/time waste.

Thanksgiving and Christmas are right around the bend. I don't look forward to the holidays, anymore. That is so sad. They've become more of a burden than an enjoyment. The only glimpse of joy I get is from my children's wonderment of it all. Thank God for them! I also pity those who have no children to share these times with. How empty that must feel. For a parent (and I'm only speaking for myself here) it is the time of year when all your hard work and day-to-day activities with you children pays off. They pay you back with their faces. It is truly priceless and absolute.

I'm so ready for this semester of school to end. I can't say that it has been a particularly good one. I could probably say that it has been very testing (no pun intended) at times. After the first part of this upcoming week, it'll be all downhill. Speaking of the term downhill, I've often been confused of it's usage. In one way it would seem to be a positive thing, i.e., a bicycle rolling downhill is far easier than pedaling it uphill. On the other hand, I think of down as being a bad thing, i.e., the idea of Hell. If you don't understand that last reference just listen to Merle Haggard's "Are the Good Times Really Over." Maybe that will help to clear the fog of confusion. Ol' Merle always has a way of doing that. Anyway, I'm intending it to be a good thing in regards to school being over. I tend to enjoy the start of things far more than the finish. I'll have to ponder what that means about my psyche at some other hour. I know you're looking forward to that blog!

Novelia

I'm starting one. I really hope I have the patience to give it the time it deserves. I get really distressed by the fact that there are no truly original thoughts left. This makes me incredibly envious of someone such as Homer. The best I can do now is just try and put my own spin on it. Whatever that is.

In regards to this blog, I made a vow to write something at least somewhat substantive. I've never been much for keeping vows together. Just call me Butterfingers.

The good thing is that I do admit and embrace my faults. I've been finding myself very impatient with those who don't. It sometimes makes it difficult to talk with someone like this. Opposites definitely don't attract in this case. It drives a wedge between people. The more you realize that no matter what you say or do to a person such as this, they just don't get it, and then you get to a point of indifference. What they say has no meaning if they don't know themselves on a true level. At first you think that you can't fault them for lying to you when they don't realize that they are doing so. Then it comes to a point where you can fault them because they refuse to stand back and take stock and accountability for their actions or lack thereof.

Is honesty a thing of the past? Is lying so ingrained in us that we can't remember what the truth is? Is it the complexity of a lie that draws us to use it? Have we become that bored?

I don't need or seek drama, anymore. I've become pretty honest as of late. There are a few things I lie about, but it's only when the truth is unnecessarily hurtful, that I do so. And I'm mainly referring to not telling my mother about shit she would not approve of and shit that would worry her. That would be a selfish way of absolving myself of guilt. I do NOT lie to men about trivial bullshit. I do NOT lie to people about my feelings toward them. I do NOT say that I am reliable when in fact I am often quite unreliable. I do say that I am loyal to a fault and I appreciate even the smallest of kindness in such an often cold and unkind world.

I've been a little distant

At least from this blog, anyway. My life has picked up some speed as of late, and I'm still trying to catch up to it. It may, very well, cross the finish line before I do. Let's hope not.

I had a dog for the majority of my childhood and teenage years. The same dog. He was killed and I was very sad. About a year later, I rescued a dog from the pound. It felt as though my other dog was with me, again. Why are animals so easily replaceable when people are not? Is it because we have developed speech? If so, does that, in itself, prove that what we say does really matter? To say that animals run completely on instinct could be because without language, that's all they have to drive them. One can imagine them happy...

Insomnia Sucks

I think the title speaks for itself so I won't carry the thought any further.

Obama won the election. I won't carry that any further, either. I just wanted to put that in case whoever reads this blog hadn't heard, yet. But all extreme sarcasm aside, he did win and what that means is yet to be seen.

It seems I've smoked myself into not carrying a meaningful coherent concise thought, so I'll end this before I embarrass myself any further.

Election Day

I voted early. I really wish political nominees would quit pimping themselves out via telephone. I'm really tired of the voicemails and what makes it more annoying is that with my particular voicemail system, I have to listen to the complete message before I can erase it. Most of the time it's those stupid negative ad campaigns, where they talk about how bad the other guy or gal is and how the world will most inevitably go to Hell if they are elected. What they fail to mention is that the world has already gone to Hell and there's no way to escape Satan's grip. That's of course assuming there is a Satan, which is another debatable, unanswerable, issue.

People should say how they feel. It would make things a lot simpler. Beating around the bush only makes the bush itself become beaten. The bush gets wore down and wore out. It's nonproductive. It drags out something that if approached in a more direct manner, could be simple and wonderful. People need to be honest with themselves. I have no trouble with this, to a fault of course. There's no need to be afraid of your thoughts. Embrace them and even edit them if necassary, but never hide from them. They will eventually find you. The road to Hell is not always paved with good intentions. Neither is the road to Heaven. Sometimes there are only dirt roads that are never paved at all. Sometimes there are intentions that are not intentional.

I need to rest.

First Post of the Month

As you can see by the title of this, I am not in the most creative of moods. I wanted to name it, "November," but then I'd be inadvertently copying someone else, so I opted not to. Plus I could never amount to that person's intellect, so what would be the point...

I've been missing people a lot, lately. Different people on different levels, but they are missed just the same. Not sure if that makes a ton of sense but what does these days?

I may write more in a minute. I may not.

Faith in myself

So, I've been considering starting my own church. It's a complicated feat, and it'll probably take me awhile to get it all together. And even then, I'm sure there will be some who will have problems with many aspects of it. The good thing about that is that they can always not join or just change it to fit what they like. That will be one of the rules, as a matter of fact: versatility. And that is where my church will differ from all other churches, although it is far from the only difference. I'll come up with more on this later.

I've gotten a little feedback on this blog of which I am very, very appreciative. It inspires me to write more frequently and encourages my thought process. I'm not too sure my thought process needs much encouragement, though. It seems I am always in the process of thinking. But then again, everyone is. That's what kills me about people saying that they don't dream. I mean it's not like we go brain-dead while sleeping or anything. Not remembering and not doing are two different things, although some might want to philosophically challenge me on this...

That brings me to a joke of the day! If a fat girl falls in the woods, and nobody sees her, do the trees laugh?? I'd like to thank Angie for that one. And it's not because Angie's fat and fell down one day to notice that she was alone in doing so, but because she introduced me to this joke. Angie is quite thin and lovely, as a matter of fact. She is also an avid reader of this blog, in case you haven't noticed... :)

Speak No Evil

But only because I can't. Apparently, for the first time in my life, I have laryngitis. Ain't that a bitch. I've never thought of myself as someone who needs a lot of speech to get through life. Now that I can't speak, it occurs to me that I was kind of wrong about that. Another first for me - being wrong! Who would've thought? Not me. Well, that makes twice, already, in one day!

It's late and I'm tired. Probably not necessary for me to even point that out. If anyone read the above paragraph, I'm sure they had no trouble coming to that conclusion. As usual, I should be sleeping but I'm not. In the morning I'll be wishing I had. This just proves how much of a procrastinator I am. It could prove other things about my personality but I don't even want to think that deep at such a late hour.

Had a pretty uneventful day, today. Stayed in bed for the most part. That's hard to do when you're responsible for children. However, somehow I managed to pull it off with no casualties. That in itself is something for someone to either be proud or ashamed of. I haven't decided which, yet. Maybe a bit of both.

Where have I been?

Sleeping more. I missed a very important meeting on Tuesday due to it. I hope they understand. I really love to sleep because in my dreams, I can do anything and if it does not turn out well, I can always wake up and everything will be back to the way it was when I left it. It's very liberating. Once I tried to start keeping a "sleep journal." That didn't last long, of course. I'm not very good at keeping up with journals and such. I'm not sure why, exactly. It would be fun to look back on things. Instead, I just have the vagueness of my memory to go by. Maybe it's for the best.

I got a cool, new job working for the school I attend. It's through the federal work-study program. The pay is awful and I can only work a max of 19 hours, but it's still cool. Much better than the previous job I had, anyway. I'm not sure when I'll start, but I'm pretty sure it will be soon.

So, for the most part, everything is going well. Hope it stays that way. Only time will tell...

Days...

go by and go by and go by. It seems as though nothing changes, when in actuality, everything does. It's feeling like fall, now. I almost find myself enjoying it. Normally I'm much more of a summer person. The older I get, the less tolerant I am of the heat. It's kind of sad to think that something I once enjoyed so much, is now an added aggravation. But it gives way to my newly found enjoyment of the cooler months. Maybe all of this is a reflection of my maturing personality. I say this because I believe that everything we enjoy and everything we despise are things hidden inside of our inner minds. The most seemingly meaningless things always have profound undertones. One only has to be willing to look inside themselves. However, depending on the person, Nietzsche's famous abyss quote could serve as a proper diversion. I know it has with me.

It's not you, it's me...

Court sucked. The accused got one year in jail, but since they have a 2 for 1 plan, he should be out in 5 months or so. I was a nervous wreck. They made me get up and say a few things. I was literally shaking the whole time. Glad it's over!

I've been pretty sad, as of late, and it only seems to get worse because I keep getting sadder news! There are very few relationships that I care about in my life (besides family, of course). So, the odds would seem to favor those relationships lasting until they die out of natural causes. Since the quantity is low, the quality and duration should theoretically be high. NO, it would seem I was wrong.

There is a huge problem with being a female that prefers male friends. There is also a problem when people mistake wit for flirtation. Also, an even bigger problem when people think you are only friends with someone because you want favoritism and an easy ride. Well, fuck those people. We are all sexual by nature. Does this mean we all have sex with each other? NO. Can two intelligent, attractive people of the opposite sex not converse on a wide array of matters including but not limited to things involving sexual content, without there being sexual acts involved? Apparently not in the minds of some.

I'm sad over this. I feel that I've lost at least one good friend and mentor. I may lose another who I'm even more involved with. It breaks my heart...

Monday, not my Fun-day

Actually, this one is not so bad. I was suppose to work, but I ditched it so that I could sit around and do absolutely nothing. Unfortunately, I have a make-up midterm today at 4 pm and class at 6:30. I really wish I could find more joy in statistics. After all, I'm sure I make up a few. But so is life...

At least I'm feeling better, health-wise. Decided to actually stay the course with my antibiotics for a change. Maybe there's some truth to modern medicine? Not sure I'm convinced, yet.

Tomorrow should be a day to write about. I've got to be in court at 9 am. Got the subpoena in the mail, Friday. Fun! For some reason, although I'm not on trial, I feel as though I'm guilty and that the judge will seal my fate with one swift slam of the gavel. In a sense, this is true, although I'm not sure how much of my fate will be decided. I really hope the best for the accused even though it may not be the best for me. Only time will tell...

Cliche of the day (just for shits and giggles): "You can lead a horse to water but you can't make him drink." Guess that depends on how thirsty you make him before he gets there.

Another Friday Night..

and I ain't got nobody, I got no money cause I don't get paid...

I haven't done jack shit all week, really, yet I'm so tired. I'll be glad when I'm through with whatever funk it is that I have. I can't for the life of me understand why I'm so sickly! It makes no logical sense at all. I look pretty healthy...

I love ending sentences with... It's almost saying that the thought continues, even though the writing ends. Or maybe that's exactly what it's saying...

Has it become obvious that I'm in a strange mood, yet? This is how I get when I have nothing of substance to write about. It just seems like good practice to write ever so often, so in a sense, this is the product of good practice. Damn.

My Prozac seems to be helping quite a bit. Things don't seem so black, anymore. Poor black. I wonder if the color black is at peace with the connotations that are attached to it. I'm pretty sure it's oblivious.

Back to the Grind

And blowing my mind. For some reason I wanted to make that rhyme. Don't ask.

Holy shit, it's Monday! On the up-side, it's almost Tuesday. Unfortunately, I can't take much comfort in that because for me, Wednesdays suck just as bad. But I won't dwell because I am actually in a good mood. If only my youngest boy would quit handing me food to either open or cook. He may have an eating disorder of some sort. I'd rather think that he just prefers variety.

Obviously I have nothing major to write about. My brain is fried after a day of training for a job and reviewing for a test in math (my most dreaded subject). I haven't watched any particularly good movies, lately. Iron Man was cool, I guess. I really like Robert Downey Jr. He was in a really neat movie, Fur, with Nicole Kidman. It's based on the life of photographer, Diane Arbus. Kind of dark and strange, but I'm all about that kind of thing, anyway. Guess I prefer art that imitates life...

Work

Well, I've completed my first day at my new job. It wasn't so bad, actually. Not my dream job, of course, but it'll do for now. I'm very tired and I'm not used to having to stay in one place for 8 hours. I never like to have my freedom taken, but that's what work is all about, I guess. It's not the job in itself that's tiring, it's the early hour I have to be there. Not only do I have to get up and get going, but so do my kids. I really hate it for them, because none of this is their fault, but it seems as though they are punished, daily. Shouldn't elaborate on this much, as it will only cause me to get down, again, and for the past couple of days, I've actually been up. It's nice being up. Wish I could know how long it will last...

Bailout

Seriously?? Why doesn't the government invest in me and pay off some of my shit? It would only cost about 50 grand. If I run out of dough, Wal-Mart's stock will drop. If that happens, the gates of Hell will most assuredly open up and all evil will be unleashed upon the world. Maybe some of the senators should read my previous cliches of the day.

The government is pissing me off. I wish I could turn my back on it, but then they'd just pay some already wealthy person to turn me back around. I need to move to Australia. I know nothing about their government or their economy but at least it stays warm all year.

Keeping it short

Because I'm sick and tired. And I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired. And I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired about being sick and tired. I could go on, but I won't.

I do feel a little better, mentally, today. Maybe it's from getting a lot of extra sleep. Maybe it's the Prozac, although I don't think it's had enough time to kick in, yet. Whatever it is, I'm thankful. I need to get back to my old self, again. I used to be ignorant and blissful, but I know I could not return to that even if I wanted to.

Pity Party

Yes, boys and girls, it's that lovely time of week, again. Time for me to feel sorry for myself. The absolute, worst, nonproductive, thing I could possibly do. Well, except suicide. But I am so incredibly depressed. It may even go beyond that. I wonder if people who are depressed think that the word "depressed" doesn't do them justice. That's how I feel. How could that one word explain the vast array of emotions I feel on a daily basis? But I digress...

Cliche of the day: "When you hit bottom, there's nowhere to go but up." That's all fine and good, but how do you know when you hit bottom? There is so much terror in the thought that this may not even be my bottom. "Look on the bright side, things could always be worse." Fuck.

I'm in a bad place...

Weekends

I don't particularly like them, anymore. They seem like empty blocks of time that beg you to fill them with whatever energy you have remaining from a week of toil and triviality. We work hard all week for nothing and on the weekends we are suppose to relax. The quality time I have with my children is reserved for de-stressing? I find that thought distressing! But so it goes...

My kids are so incredibly loud. It's almost ear-shattering at times. For the most part I can handle it. I have somewhat of an extremely patient personality, that I'm very thankful for. Plus, I was brought up in a loud family. My mom is almost totally deaf and so was my grandpa and uncle. My grandpa's brother was deaf. I'm assuming it runs in the family, somehow, although science would probably say it is only coincidence.

Time for the cliche of the day! I used to say, "Don't sweat the small stuff." Now I realize that I should be saying, "It's the little things that kill." Two seemingly contradictory statements that can seem perfectly logical depending on where you are in life. I may be in a bad place...

Running on Empty

Or at least that's what everyone seems to be doing, considering the gas stations are for the most part, out of gas and those that still harbor this fuel of life, have lines wrapped around their buildings. The most amazing thing to me is how everyone reacts to this. The atmosphere has an air of chaos about it. It's almost scary. I only say "almost" because I don't fear chaos as much as I probably should. Call it a coping mechanism, if you will.

Why don't we do what Everclear so poetically suggests and swim out past the breakers and watch the world die??

Dedication

I want to try and take stock of all those people in my life who really make a difference. Now, making a difference may not always be a positive thing, but at least it's something.

Mom: You gave me life, you give me life, and without you, I am completely lost.
Dad: You helped give me life, you try your best, and although you may never know this, you are really someone I admire.
Ninny: You've shown me that unbelievable goodness does exist in people.
PawPaw: I am most like you, yet I could only aspire to be anywhere near the caliber of the person you were. You did not speak much, but when you did, everyone listened and it was always substantive. R.I.P.
Alan: For teaching me the use of the word "substantive." I am forever grateful! :)
MawMaw Roland: For showing me that family is the most important thing on Earth. No matter how poor you were, you were always rich with love. R.I.P.
Greg: For giving me Houston, although it was as far from a selfless act as one could get. He's an awesome child and if you only allowed him to show that to you, he would. YOUR LOSS!
Andy: For being my first "puppy love." R.I.P.
Jeff: For showing me that life is hard and once you make your bed, you have to lie in it. I could think of other cliches for you, but I don't want this to drag. Also, thanks for the kids. At least you do know how awesome they are. And thanks for keeping things interesting.
Uncle Wesley: For taking up the most slack for being the "odd" one in the family. I can only wish to be as much of an outcast as you.
Angie: For being one of my truest, coolest, most level-headed friends. What would I have done without you?
Trista: For being my oldest friend and for all the good times then and the ones still to come.
Bull: For being my "catalyst" or "enzyme." Also, for giving me a job and believing in my abilities.
Barry: For all the long talks and helping me with Houston.
Chris: For being my first ex-husband and remaining my friend through it all.
Lisa: For making me realize that everyday I'm alive and get to be with my children, is truly a blessing. R.I.P.
Alan: For being genuinely interested in what happens to me and teaching me to think beyond myself.
Stevie B: For listening and pushing me to do my best (even though giving me 99s, instead of 100s was a little annoying).
Mr. Lowe: For showing me that learning could be and sometimes is, fun.
Houston: For having almost my exact personality (sorry) and yet, being the coolest kid on the planet at the same time. You are the love of my life!
Bevan: For being my only little girl and showing me what it means to be one. You are so beautiful! You are the other love of my life!
Piers: For being so strange that it brightens my life and brings joy to me every moment I'm around you. You are the last, but not least, love of my life!
Various boyfriends or flings of the past: No matter how minimal our time was together, it still shapes who I am, today.
Elvis: For being my past self. R.I.P.

If I have left anyone out, I am sorry. My mind can only remember so many things at once and the older I get, the slower it goes.

Switching Teams

Sometimes I consider turning completely lesbian. Men make me ill, sometimes, with their
total "sex on the brain" personalities. Sometimes, this can work to a woman's advantage and sometimes it becomes far too much to bear.

Now, to be clear, I'm not saying that women don't think about sex, often. I probably think about it more often than most, and I'm far from being virginal in all aspects. However, I can sit down with someone who I find physically attractive, and yet, be quite serious and professional with them.

And I'm not saying that ALL men are one way or the other. I'm sure there are men out there who find women attractive, yet can manage to keep their sexual desires for them, to themselves. I just haven't met many.

Is it that my very nature is overtly sexual? Do I scream sex by subtle, unconscious acts? Is it my pheromones? Is it all the above?

I hope you know when you read this, that I'm not directing this in any way, toward you.... You have been nothing but supportive, loving, and kind to me.

Getting There...

Things are looking up at bit. I think once I get into somewhat of a schedule and routine, I'll be just fine. All we can do is take life day by day. That's what I've always done, and that's what I'll continue to do. I can either lay down and die or get up and fight. I'm sure I'll choose the latter.

If you love someone, should you share your pain with them or should you hide it, in an attempt to keep them from worrying about you? This is such a hard thing to decide upon. The last thing I want to be is off-putting. I hope the people I care about don't get tired of my excessive bullshit.

First Attempt

I feel even more alone than usual and this blogging business may be a little harder than I once believed it to be. I seem to be at a loss for text, which is quite unusual. Writing has always came easier to me than anything in life. Where does that leave me?

One thing that's on my mind right now is the fucked up justice system we have in these great United States. Or maybe it's just the South. Something inside tells me that it's not just a regional problem, though. I attended my first bond hearing, today. It wasn't mine, thank God. Just someone close to me. "Close to me." What a strange phrase. Can someone you don't particularly like be close to you? I think they are the closest.

That's all I have for now. Pretty lousy first attempt, right?