Wednesday, October 21, 2009

The Unoriginal Halloween Costume Shoppe




Halloween is only 10 days away, and to celebrate, I've called into work today (hooooray!)so that I can finish up some homework. I have about 5 different "haunted houses" I want to visit this weekend, so I needed some time to finish up some absolutely necessary assignments for my Comparative Politics class. Boo for writing a case study about why Afghanistan is struggling to establish itself as a democracy (I think it's excessive to ask for 5 pages when it can be aptly summed up by saying "Religious intolerance+archaic belief systems=me hate you long time")
So, instead of doing what I had set out to do (homework) I'm uploading funny Halloween related video's to Blogger and Facebook. God bless you technology!
So enjoy.
P.S.
I apologize for the video if your dressing as a slutty *insert anything here* or the Balloon Boy (or perhaps a slutty version of the Balloon Boy!) Actually, no I'm not. I despise the slutty costumes. Dressing up began as a way to deter spirits from inhabiting your body and wearing a slutty nurse outfit is just asking to go all Exorcist and shit. Actually....I suppose it could be viewed as a form of natural selection. Hmmmmmm.....

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

I'm Really Just This Damned Nosey


What a week.
So far I've had to sit at the hospital with a very ill client that I have had the pleasure of assisting for the last 3 years. She has downs syndrome and for those of you familiar with downs, you know that generally people with that diagnosis are always happy, hungry and horny (kind of like my husband on Thanksgiving day I suppose...hmm...I wonder). It's been really hard to watch someone usually so vital fight for her life for reasons I can't (damn you HIPPA!) discuss but am infuriated over. That's not the reason I'm posting, but I thought I would just sort of set the tone for what this post is going to be like. So no references to farting (although I can say the lady in the bed next to my clients seems to be pooping on herself every 5 seconds with a smell so foul you would think you were in a bathroom at a worlds hottest chili convention) , music or any other stuff that I typically like to drone on about.
This is a "I'm sitting in the hospital taking a break from studying" kind of post.

I'm sitting here in the waiting room, since my company wants each client to have an employee with them to advocate if need be while they are in the hospital, watching a plethora of people dealing with sickness, grief, frustration and despair. No I'm not in Disneyland, I'm at UK.
Needless to say, I don't like hospitals (anyone who does is crazzzzzzzy), but I can't help but get wrapped up in the lives of the people that mill in and out during the course of the 8 hours I'm here (even though I really should studying for the 2 gynormous midterms I have tomorrow morning).
So many sad stories...and astounding one's. It's kind of watching an episode of House without the quirky wise cracking doctor (that is my make believe boyfriend much like Jules make believe boyfriend on the Daily Show). So far I've heard the story of a man who has recovered from pneumonia only to be told he has to have open heart surgery (that he will likely not survive) because of the extreme amount of blockage they found.
I've heard the story of a lady who came here with a knee fracture only to be told that she has a blood clot blocking the entire left side of her heart and fluid gathering in her lungs.
Does anyone who goes to the hospital ever get treated for what they came for? I liken it to taking your car to a garage to explore why you have difficulty closing the trunk only to be told by the mechanic that your engine is crapped out and it'll have to replaced. That's just so...life.
So I sit here, vigilant, and perhaps more nosey than I should be. The others in the waiting room are now watching some sort of old regular baptist church program complete with banjo's and voices that can't quite carry a tune. Time to check on my client and her family.
Send positive energy her way if you have any to spare. She's my lil buddy and I don't know if I could stick with this job if she doesn't make it.







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Now playing: Brandi Carlile - Before It Breaks
via FoxyTunes

Saturday, October 10, 2009

Critty Is A Rolling Stone



In one hour I will be at Rupp Arena watching Kings of Leon and their fiery sex light up the stage. Needless to say, I'm stoked.
October is my favorite month out of the year. There are tons of festivals/carnivals/freak shows, live concerts, and the opportunity to wear really cute little jackets and hats without running the risk of heat stroke.
My husband bought a new digital camera for moi. I wanted something a little less technical than my film SLR (which I still adore but admit that it isn't as convenient as digital photography) so he purchased the Nikon L100. It's pretty darned spiffy and I'm looking forward to snapping a few pics of tonight's show to test the 24 optical zoom.
I love live music. Although I prefer shows in a smaller venue (think 1,000 capacity) there's something to be said about being one of the masses at a concert like I'm going to tonight (I think 20,000). The energy of being around so many other people who "get" the kind of music you rock to, well, it's downright refreshing. Sure, it sucks to pay fucking $20 for one beer and wait 30 minutes to release that beer back into the circle of life (or pee it out if your crude), but for some reason I love it (concerts, not pissing in dirty, overstuffed bathrooms). *=-P
I hope everyone's weekend is fantastic!


UPDATE: The show was FANTASTIC! I really enjoyed White Lies, the opening act, which sounded like a really good cross between U2, The Cure and AFI. Even though my right heel is KILLING me (I swear I wore flats...but I guess they were just a little TOO flat) and chose not to drink anything except water during last nights show, I had such a good time dancing and singing along with my girl KC. She came up with a jewel of a quote as we were listening to "Revelry" when she said "I bet he's a vegan. He sounds like a vegan." He was quite thin, as you'll see in the pics I'm posting, so she might be right (although I'm unsure why this thought occurred when it did. So random!)
I would highly recommend catching a KOL show if they come to your neck of the woods. It's well worth the $45.
Here are some pics.



























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Now playing: Kings of Leon - Be Somebody
via FoxyTunes

Thursday, October 8, 2009

Because I'm So Deliciously Over The Top

One of my blogger ( I originally type bloger and it made me laugh out loud for real like a juvenile) and right across the road friends, Chanda over at Other Everyday Stuff has appeased my bruised ego by offering me this here lil award
and since it comes with some strings attached (as most things in life do) I'm fulfilling my end of the bargain by making this post. Enjoy your trip fantastic into my odd psyche.

Here are the rules for the Over the Top Award:USE ONLY ONE WORD! It’s not as easy as you might think. Copy and change the answers to suit you and pass it on. It’s really hard to use only one-word answers.

1. Where is your cell phone? unknown

2. Your hair? wavy

3. Your mother? fantastic

4. Your father? Funny

5. Your favorite food? Potato’s

6. Your dream last night? Zombie

7. Your favorite drink? Tea


8. Your dream/goal? travel

9. What room are you in? bedroom

10. Your hobby? reading

11. Your fear? clowns

12. Where do you want to be in 6 years? Uranus

13. Where were you last night? Work

14. Something that you aren’t? rich

15. Muffins? yum

16. Wish list item? Masseuse

17. Where did you grow up? Kentucky

18. Last thing you did? Stretch

19. What are you wearing? thermal

20. Your TV? Dumb

21. Your pets? sleeping

22. Friends? LOVE!

23. Your life? BUSY

24. Your mood? spooky

25. Missing someone? MJ

26. Vehicle? Chevy

27. Something you’re not wearing? socks

28. Your favorite store? Pier1

29. Your favorite color? green

30. When was the last time you laughed? today

31. Last time you cried? today

32. Your best friend? Dan

33. One place that I go to over and over? toilet

34. One person who emails me regularly? bank

35. Favorite place to eat? greek

And to pass this award on to some great fellow bloggers!
Organic Meatbag
Zero Pumpkin
Oh, Rebecca
Scarlett's Walk

KUDOS to ya'll. *=-)
Now, I'm off to scavenge my kitchen for something adult to drink and I'm not talking prune juice! *=-P





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Wednesday, October 7, 2009

I Am Not Dead (but am planning on being undead soon)



Greetings fellow blogorino's!
First and foremost, let me say, if you didn't get it from my title, that I am not dead! RAWKING!
However, I've been swamped with school, work and trying to get things lined up for my 7th annual Halloween bash. Most days the only time I'm even online is to check Blackboard (my new arch nemesis by the way.)
Life has been pretty good. I saw the Silversun Pickups in concert with Manchester Orchestra and Cage the Elephant about a week ago (fantastic show in which I was so close to the stage I could practically taste Brian's sweet, sweet, sweat) at my new favorite bar/billiard room. The Saturday before that I saw a band that I'm totally obsessing over, Today the Moon, Tomorrow the Sun. Imagine if Bjork, Depeche Mode and Hole had a musical baby that wasn't all cracked out.
I'm going to try and stop in more often as I miss all of you MUCHO, but I can't really promise it'll be as often as I'd like. I have time tonight because I left work early due to my busted ass sinuses making me feel like I have Samuel Jackson-esque eye pokeyoutiness (hooray for making up words!)
Thanks to all who gave me awards, I'll be retrieving those shortly. My ego has been appropriately stroked now. *purr, purr*
What are everyone's Halloween plans?
I'M SO EXCITED ABOUT HALLOWEEN I COULD PEE MY PANTS!
I've got my costume lined up, the house decked out (complete with zombies and such) and some tasty "it'll get ya' drunk" drink recipes!
Costumes?
Shin Digs going on in your area?
I love hearing about all that stuff.
Take care lovelies!
Feel free to add me on Facebook if you want to keep in touch more regularly, since I check that on my phone in between classes and work.
Ciao!





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Now playing: Danny Elfman - This is Halloween
via FoxyTunes

Thursday, September 3, 2009

Hopping on the Award Band Wagon

So I've noticed all these nifty awards plastering the "walls" of many of your spaces and I have to admit, I am a bit jealous.
Where are my adoring fans?
My stalkers?
The people that carve my name into their skin while eating their generic brand Dreary-O's?
Is it because I haven't distributed awards myself?
I can "do stuff" to pictures! I can write little things...funny things...occasionally. I'm going to make an award I tell you!...
and I did!

I'm not sure how this whole "award" thing works but I'm going to take the chumps way out, post it here and say "have at you like soccer mom's on the day after Thanksgiving at Wal-Mart, my lovelies!"
Since I am "awards" challenged and have so far only managed to "steal" an award from Meatbag so that I 'm not the most obviously uncool kid on the playground, I don't know the "protocol" for uploading...so here's an award I pulled outta' my ass painstakingly made for all of you, my precious cyborgs.



Amendment:
Since blogging protocol (and my snooping on the blogs of others) says I should choose the people I want to receive this loverly award, here's a list of people I find worthy of my creativity. *=-)

mrsbenedict
HeartNiki
anna
NOTSOMARYPOPPINS
Hillbilly Duhn
Tennyson ee Hemingway
the peach tart
Toripops
Alisa
Louis
controlled chaos
eternally curious
maggie
kenflett
Teen
Dutch Donut girl
inkOBSESSIONdesigns
Erykah:-)
Girl Interrupted
Lana
Rogue
Roxane
Floid
Stefunkc
sabrina
LiLu
Sandy
Kris
Mr London Street
Simon
mysterg
headbitingprincess
Ellie Great
Call Me Cate
Shawna
Mr. Condescending
ERRRRRRRN
Becca
Jules
Toothfairynotes (even though I know you aren't accepting awards, you have an honorable mention!)
Lauralee Tochia
Lora
Courtney
Lisa
mylittlebecky
Jessica Gando
Susan
Hawaii Kawaii
Valerie
Meatbag
Betsy's Closet
Crystal Jigsaw
cybeel
Chanda
Life With Dogs
Bikermomma
Kristal






Ain't I stinker?

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Now playing: Silversun Pickups - Rusted Wheel
via FoxyTunes


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Now playing: Silversun Pickups - Rusted Wheel
via FoxyTunes

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Now playing: John Mayer - Free Fallin' (Live)
via FoxyTunes

Monday, August 31, 2009

Moo, Cow, Moo.





It's amazing how one photo of a terribly depressing cow can reflect the current state of the United States economy. Gaunt, infested with parasites and lethargic, divided we fall.
(photo taken on a farm in TN neighboring my sisters home)

It's Monday and I have the plague (which I was told by a friend might be some sort of rebel attack from Russian immigrant hookers...perhaps they cuddled up against the new pillows I picked up from JCPenny prior to my purchasing of them seeing as how I don't make it a point to hang with Russian immigrant hookers daily) so this post is noticeably shorter. I have an online lecture concerning Comparative politics to catch up on before work, so ciao for now!



Friday, August 28, 2009

Looky...

...just for your information I just had to Google the word "Looky" because I had a "moment" where the word just didn't click with the old thought box. Do you ever do that, see a word, a common word and second guess yourself as to how in the world your supposed to spell it!? It's usually common place words too,like "fart" or "muffin" nothing like "thermodynamics" or "SUPERCALIFRAGILISTICEXPIALIDOCIOUS", as a nod to Mary Poppins.
And to think, I was the Spelling Bee champion of my grade school. OH, how the mighty have fallen!

I just wrapped up my first week of my senior year as a psych undergrad major. I'm already hating my statistical/experimental professor. Can you say pretentious? To kick it all, he's probably only 5-6 years older than me. *flips him off accordingly*

Last weekend I made a trip to TN to visit some of mi familia before becoming so consumed by full time work/school. Obviously this is why I've been noticeably (I hope anyway, did you not even miss me!?!?!?!)neglectful of this here blog.

Since I have to write a case study and submit it by noon I'm going to entertain you with photo story of my trip to TN and back. I apologize for the photo quality as I was using the camera on my cell phone. I'm still shopping for a new digital camera.
The hubs looking unbelievably adorable in the new ensemble I bought for him. Awwwwww.








Before driving 3 hours with the windows down and sun roof open. Need I say my hair looked much better at this point? Also notice my cute new hat. Jealous?





Notice the beautiful day? You would have opened the sun roof as well, you know it!






I passed a lot of neato Bikers, but this guy was my favorite. He was listening to Fleetwood Mac on his little biker radio. Awww.







One of my sisters adorable, camera lovin' children. Can you say Russell Crowe complex? I felt like the paparazzi!









I know, this picture is super blurry. This photo is too entertaining to ignore!








On the way back from TN I stopped at the Abraham Lincoln Museum. This is a Volk Life Mask of Honest Abe. I was severely freaked out that his hands are as big as my entire head (and nearly the size of his own!) There was also a pic of me in a union soldiers hat (which was surprisingly fashionable!), but it didn't turn out. BOO.













A really cool piece of student art found in the museum? Look familiar?














I was surrounded by cars with catchy sayings like this. I was told after I began my journey back to KY that Bristol (I had no idea what this was until my sister so kindly informed that it was some sort of racing event) was that weekend. I spent a lot of time behind testosterone fueled males trying to pretend that they too are race car drivers in their wives mini vans. Joy.








Most of the time I was surrounded by jallopy RV's that also quoted racing jargon. Thankfully, I made it home in one piece!

I hope you enjoyed traveling with me. Please notice I always wear a seat belt. It's sure to keep my head juices in place after it explodes from road rage.
Ciao!




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Now playing: The Donnas - All Messed Up
via FoxyTunes

Friday, August 14, 2009

Slugs, Oh The Terror!



Busy, busy, busy!
I've been working some overtime this week since I'll be starting my senior year of college in a week and will have limited availability. It's times like these that I wish I hadn't lived the life of early 20's fuckery (aka partying myself sick and opting to skip class since I was still drunk at 9 a.m.) and would have already attained my PhD by now. I blame it entirely on the delicious burn of tequila which I hadn't encountered the first time until my freshmen year of college during my first stint away from home. I was a statistic and it's placed a huge bruise on my ego.
Of course, I have a ton of great memories. Nights of alcohol and hormone fueled debauchery that have produced numerous funny pictures and even more funny memories. I made friends at that point that I still count on for good times, tasty drinks and maintaining my youthful demeanor. If only I had been capable of juggling the two I would have had the best of both worlds.
Instead, I'm now in the awkward position of being a "non-traditional" student in her late 20's playing catchup with her education amongst a bunch of sickeningly refreshing group of fresh faced 19 year olds. Thankfully, time hasn't been tough on this mug of mine so I don't stand out like a sore thumb (perhaps I pickled/preserved myself in those early days with all that tequila?)
The weekend is nigh!
Before I go and get ready to work my 13 hour shift I thought I would leave you with a truefuckingstory of last weekend when I went to visit a friend of mine. It might very well be one of those "you had to be there" stories that's going to leave you sitting there scratching your head and wondering why in the heck I decided to chronicle it via this blog. If so, suck it! I thought it was hilarious! And it's my blog, so *insert sticking out of the tongue here*...
Last Saturday I decided to drive to Richmond, KY to visit an old college friend of mine for dinner at my favorite Mexican restaurant so I go get my tacos de carne asada fix. Since it's THE best restaurant in Richmond, she concurs. While we're partaking of some fantastic salsa and taking in the red and green decor, giant chile peppers hanging from the ceiling and numerous sombrero's that serve as decor, our always sporadic conversation somehow lands on the un-appetizing topic of slugs.
I HATE slugs. I wish they would ALL die terrible, salty deaths. I don't care how "essential they are for the eco system" they're creepy, they're slimy, they leave weird slimy trails and make it so that I'm scared to walk barefoot in the grass at night. EWWW! I have flashes from a movie that I saw in the early 90's during my impressionable youth that has warped me for life titled "Slugs" that only confirms my terror. In it, mutant slugs crave human flesh. The tagline for this gem of an 80's horror flick is "They ooze. They slime. They Kill".


Nuff said.
Needless to say I was anxious to change our dinner conversation to something that didn't make my skin crawl in terror and my stomach clinch in sickness. Of course, my friend decides to continue musing about the eating habits of those creatures that I shall not name, which produced a question that made me laugh loud enough to cause confused (aroused?) glances from the waiters.
I'm sitting, trying to ignore her and focus on anything but the topic of her conversation when she says, while totally sober...
"I wonder what slugs eat. Don't they suck blood or something?"
SHE WAS SERIOUS!
Maybe she saw the same movie I did?
I'm getting her a special helmet hat produced just to emphasize her level of special.

And I'm spent....




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Now playing: Hollywood Undead - Undead
via FoxyTunes

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Now playing: KoRn - Dead Bodies Everywhere
via FoxyTunes

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

Weak Wednesday


Happy Hump Day ya'll! (I've always wondered who started the whole Hump Day thing and the details on the reasoning behind Wednesday being dubbed so). Like many things in life, it's the details that count!
I'm not feeling particularly creative or thoughtful today, so maybe Wednesday should be titled "Weak Wednesday"? The weekend is still two full days away, I still have three full days of work (if you count WW), and I have yet to win the lottery and become one of "those people" that have golden toilets and Fiji water for my dogs Tiffany bowls. Suck it Wednesday.

In other news, my dogs are incredibly depressed with all this news coverage of possibly shortening the number of days that the USPS (United States Postal Service for those of you that might be drunk or otherwise intoxicated to numb the pain of Weak Wednesday) will deliver mail. The government is considering kicking Saturday off of the list of mail delivery days to try to alleviate some of the 9 BILLION dollars of debt accumulated. Personally, it's not a big deal for moi. I do about 98% of my "mailing" via the internet, including paying bills, shopping, harassing family members I don't get to see that often, you know, the norm.

My dogs, however, are inconsolable. Even though Saturday is dog park day, and they'll get to run about minus their leashes and hump till their hearts content, we usually wait until after the mail runs so they can get a good 3 minutes of barking out of their system. Schedules are important, dear government! Sure, people will be out of jobs, but what about my dogs!?!?! I guess they'll just have to go back to eerily barking at my walls in the middle of the afternoon, much like they do in the middle of the night. I adopted all three of my pooches, so I'm not exactly sure what kind of environment they were raised in. Were they all lab test animals who can now commune with spirits? Do they have PTS? Or do they simply enjoy watching me walk to another room while shrieking much like the banshee's of ancient Irish lore?
Man, that shit freaks me out. Especially if I'm watching "Ghost Hunters" or some other freaky show that I love to saturate whats left of my left temporal lobe with, alone.
Shew. I'm rambling. My soul is sucked into the Weak Wednesday abyss. I think I'll straighten my hair. God bless the maker of the Chi flat iron! It tames my lions mane of locks. I wonder who first thought of ironing their hair for dramatic effect? Maybe it was one of those 50's era housewives who ate some lead paint and while ironing her husbands shirts for the next day of "manly business" and thought "hey...I'll iron my freaking hair. Yeah, that'll be totally hot stuff." Whatever the case may be, it sure does make my hair more manageable and glossy and less like the Cowardly Lion.


Ahhh. Buddy just ate my turkey sandwich. Instead of stopping him, I'll just snap a pic.


Ciao!

P.S.-This has brightened my day, so hopefully it will do the same for you my lil Baby Sasses!








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Now playing: Kings of Leon - Notion
via FoxyTunes

Monday, August 3, 2009

The HeART Of The Matter




So, I've just finished reading a really good book. Not good, great, titled "Lulu Meets God And Doubts Him". It's a book that I randomly purchased during a book buying frenzy at Half Price Books, probably because I liked the title and because it was on sale. I love that store and could easily drop $500 there and only be getting started, so advanced is my book buying/reading affliction.
I've had the book for well over 5 months and finally got around to reading it a couple of days ago. Contrary to the title, the book has very little to do with "God" but very much to do with the spiritual nature of artists and the fickle nature of the "artistic social scene" in New York. The book paints a very vivid picture of the "hot or not" labels pushed onto "emerging" (other wise known as "newb") artists and the mediums that they use to create the visual representations of their soul (or in some cases, whatever their gallery asks for). I'm going to quote the synopsis since a.) it's late b.) I'm still whacked out on muscle relaxers and finding it hard to focus c.) cause I wanna'.


"In this enjoyably tart art world sendup, winsome, aper├žu-spouting Mia McMurray (think Party Girl–era Parker Posey) is a gallerista—one of the invariably decorative young women who act as a gallery's de facto concierge, and "who is always, always watching," as Mia herself puts it. A mysterious portrait by the recently late Jeffrey Finelli (killed by an errant cab in front of Mia's Simon Pryce gallery) gives the novel its winningly clumsy title and sets up its main conflict, between grasping art collectors and representatives of Finelli's estate. Former Mademoiselle and Woman's Day editor Ganek, herself a significant art collector, offers sharply drawn characters and convincingly savvy details. That the book's most important female collector is presented as a loudmouthed and overdressed refugee from Absolutely Fabulous gives a sense of its waspish humor. But Ganek stops short of crude caricature, and Ganek's portraits of the variously sneaky, ridiculous and pretentious art world denizens are tinged with affection and depth. The tone is sophisticated chick lit, and there's a sweet love story threaded in, but what most clearly animates this debut, and sets it apart, is a real sense that art matters."(June)
Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.

The book really struck a chord with moi, as I've been expressing myself on canvas for as long as I can remember. I'm no Pablo Picasso, but I put my whole self into my work and like it enough to not burn it. There's one particular paragraph that so accurately described my art experience that I felt like maybe the author had somehow delved into my mind mush (via alien space craft perhaps?) and written down what she found there. Anyhow, here it is...
" There's something in my eyes when I look at them in the mirror, what is that? Not doubt. More like insecurity. I want to convey an expression of what it's like to be twenty eight, knowing your a grown-up but wondering what you're supposed to be when you grow up. I want to capture what it looks like when you start to realize you have to let go of your dreams. I want the pain of my own artistic yearning to appear there, on the canvas. As I paint, I lose myself in the joy of the work. Later, I'm overcome by an old familiar feeling of faint hope, that maybe I'm capturing something there on the canvas, some essence of what in my mind's eye... God is that you?"
If your into artsy fartsy things or if you looking for a good read while your on the crapper *cough, fellas* I would highly suggest giving "Lulu..." a shot.




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Now playing: AFI - The Leaving Song Pt. 2
via FoxyTunes

Saturday, August 1, 2009

Hurricane Soul and Tsunami Thoughts



“Sometimes what we call love is just a settling of old scores, or a seeking of forbidden pain, or a circuitous path to the kingdom of cruelty, or she may simply have confused lack of capital with heroism while searching for rescue without knowing from what.”- Anne Roiphe



It's Saturday and I'm posting! I've been online quite a bit in the last few days thanks to the previously mentioned back injury Whats on ye olde mind tap? Besides wishing I could trade in my current back for one less riddled with pain, just that far too many of my friends are deeply unhappy with the romantic aspects of their lives. Those friends that I have that are single are either celibate completely and refusing to date or dating assholes whose self absorbed antics traumatize everyone involved.
Attraction. It's a necessity when your looking for someone to share your time with. When I was younger, like others my age, I was attracted by things that simply pleased my eyes. It didn't take long for me to realize that although my eyes might be pleased by the physical features my heart was often left empty and without love. This was when I discovered lust. Deciphering the two can be a trick since as humans we're instinctive and more often than most will admit, primal. There were two sides to this relationship thing. Interesting.
When I was seventeen I met the man I am now married to, Dan. He was the first person I had met that not only did I find physcially stimulating, but intellectually and emotionally as well. I was overcome with this feeling of "togetherness", and felt for the first time that the world truly is a small place if in all of it, I could find someone who "fit" (please supress giggles your juveniles!) me so well. Of course life happened and we took separate paths for quite sometime (about 4 years), often merging briefly during his military leave, but keeping our distance until the military part of his life was behind him. I did a whole lotta' lustin' in that time and discovered that it's really not the sort of lifestyle that makes me happy. This was when I discovered that I was, indeed, a relationship person. When The Hubs came to me after our separation I was surprised. It had been over a year since we had talked. I had just ended a really terrible relationship with a Cajun douche bag and was back to my "primal ways". I was living with the besties at the time in a townhouse that doubled as "Party City" during the brief year we lived there. I'm veering off subject again. When nostalgia takes over, my blogging seems to become quite sporadic. I had always thought about Daniel, but didn't see how we could be "us" again after all the curve balls life had thrown at us. He just showed up at my doorstep during one "girls night" and said "I'm out of the military for good now (after serving 8 long years in the U.S. Navy) I think it's time we were us again." Very Jerry McGuire. And we were.

Over the course of the past 28 years I have met a multitude of people: roommates/dorm mates, co-workers, people you party with, people you pray with, people you shop with, people that I hold close still and people that I'm happy are gone from my life. In those years, I have gained a thorough understanding of what it is that I find attractive in other people. Through the process of trial and error, all of us find what characteristics in other people that we find exciting, soothing, annoying, irresistible, intriguing...etc. Based on that knowledge we connect with those people that believe will add value to our time.
This is where I get frustrated. This is where I shout to the heavens and say "whyyyyyyyyyy is this STILL a problem!?"

Why is it, that people MY age, are so utterly hell bent on CONSISTENTLY choosing people who they a.) Share no common interests with besides the obvious need for food/water/shelter b.) People who closely resembles those who have gone before and not worked out. I'm all for giving everyone " a chance" and not making decisions based on the views of others, but you can't deny the truth in the old saying "where there's smoke there's fire".

I'm not singling anyone out here. I know of a couple of people that are probably thinking "that bitch, I just KNOW she's talking about me", but in truth this is just a very general assessment. The fact that I can think of at least 6 people that this applies to in my social circle, speaks volumes.

As a society, is there SUCH a stigma on being alone that we would compromise ourselves just to be a part of a couple? I know I'm not single and in truth, I haven't been single for an extended amount of time since I was 17 years old, but those times that I was I never felt like I just HAD to be with someone even if I knew that person was bad for me. I've made BAD decisions, but it was never because I was simply scared of being alone.

BE HAPPY! That is the best advice I could give to any of my friends who find themselves ready to reprimand me for this blog because they just KNOW it's about them. Maybe in the movies being a sad sack is considered sexy but in the real world, where we all have problems on our own, it's very rare that a person is going to be drawn to you if your continuously sulking. I'm not saying fake it. Seriously go out and do the things that you enjoy and pretty soon, you'll be happy, with or without someone to hold your hand while you do it.

STOP WAITING! Live your damned life already. Time will not go backwards if when your 50 you realize "hey I should gone on and *insert wish here* instead of holding off until Mr. or Mrs. Right could join.

BE YOURSELF! Even in the beginning. Gals, don't try and pretend like you don't need food even when your out for dinner, and guys if you curse like a sailor, let it be known up front. The purpose of that date is to decide if the person your out with is compatible with YOU not the person you think they would be interested in. The only smart thing I've ever heard Dr. Phil (who I'm quite sure is the Antichrist with a Georgia accent) say is that the reason most marriages are failing these days is because we create these alter ego's in the beginning of relationships that over time become too much to maintain because they are just facades. As you grow comfortable with someone, all those little things that you lied about add up. If you don't like Chinese food, just say "Hey, I think it's gross" instead of picking at your spring rolls and smiling like a cheshire cat because you think it will make you more attractive in the eyes of a potential life partner. It's gonna' look mighty weird down the road, should things work out with that person, if one day you snap and say "I fucking hate Chinese food, can't we just eat something else". NO ONE likes being lied to, even if it's something seemingly insignificant like that. It creates doubt, doubt creates distrust, which leads to fighting, clinginess and just a breakdown of the structure of the relationship.


If your with someone just too keep from "ending up alone", well, I'm of the opinion that you have no right to bitch about how unhappy you are (unless you've been ball gagged and stuck in someone's closet, gotta' have a disclaimer). It's so cliche, but the truth is life is short and the one we're living at this moment will never be repeated, so make it count! Sure, in any relationship your going to have days when you'd rather chew your own leg off than talk one more time about bills, family gatherings, crazy kids (including those of the four legged variety) etc, but at the end of the day you KNOW the only way to make things better is to curl up next to that person and sleep until a better day rolls along a few hours down the line.

Stick to your guns about those "standards" that you have that pertain to motivation and passion, but be a little more flexible when it comes to physical appearance (not EVERYONE can be Angelina Jolie/Brad Pitt) or monetary value. Those are precarious things, like building a home on a sand dune. Over time those things can change. I absolutely agree that you have to be attracted to a person sexually if you plan a future with them, but that doesn't always come from eye candy. Sometimes people become attractive because of those things they do to make us feel our best. If someone can make you smile after you've had the day from hell, that's a start. If someone can turn you on simply by looking at you a certain way, that's a damn good start.

I've had a lot on my mind obviously.
I derive happiness by witnessing the happiness of the people I care about (being an empath sometimes sucks balls). Embrace this life, Debbie and Donnie Downers and take it for everything it's worth. Love yourself and when that happens everything else will fall into place. Remember, confidence is the sexiest thing you can wear.




Friday, July 31, 2009

Twisted Sister



Nope, I'm not talking about that fabulous 80's rock band that brought us such classics as "We're Not Gonna' Take It" and "Burn In Hell", I'm talking about the current condition of my own back.
*cue the ominous music signifying horrible news*
I have somehow, in the midst of my everyday job (which sometimes consists of lifting some of the more elderly people in the MR group home that I work at), re-arranging the garage, walking a Siberian Husky for KC who works all the time so the dog has next to zero manners and tugs my freaking arm out of my socket, working on making a studio space so I can be consistent with my artwork again, and building the better mouse trap (okay, maybe not that but it sounded good), I have twisted multiple muscles in my lower back.
I found this excruciating piece of information out after ski daddling to the nearest UTC (Urgent Treatment Center) after losing an entire night of sleep Wednesday night from back pain and then doubling over in the shower after being assaulted with some pretty hardcore muscle spasms. I'm one of "those" people who treats going to the doctors office much like walking before a German firing squad and has to be near deaths door (or crippled much like I mentioned before) before I'll seek medical attention. Terrible habit, I know, but I'm working on it, so cut me some slack.
I digress.
The mechanics of a doctors office are sadly lacking. I was in the examination room for 3 1/2 hours. I only spent about 15 minutes actually in the presence of other people. I was left in a tiny, sterile room with 3 year old magazines discussing various terri-fucking-fying illnesses and some of those tongue presser thingies for company. You are NOT allowed (according to the blue bloody million signs posted) to talk on your cell phone. Call me crazy, but this doesn't seem like the best way to encourage people to come back. Ostracize, scare, release. Then they take your blood pressure (incorrectly) and marvel that it's high. Hmmm....imagine that? (I nearly bit my sarcastic tongue off, mind you)

I'm just dumbfounded that people who make such insane amounts of money like doctors aren't a tad bit more encouraging and friendly. My doctor wasn't MEAN, he just seemed....dead inside (much like Zombies, but instead of brains they crave insurance)








Maybe it's the hours, maybe it's the number of chronically ill people they provide service to, but it all seemed so bleak. My advice to the clinic? Paint the walls something other than institution white, leave PUZZLE books instead of medical magazines for patients to pre-occupy themselves with. What about a TV? I understand the importance of creating awareness, but for most people, introducing them to new illnesses while waiting to treat their current one, can't exactly be considered the path to enlightenment. ESPECIALLY, if they're sitting, alone, in a strange environment.

I'm sleepy. My thoughts are muddled. Damned pain killers.
*zombie time*




Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Not All Scary Things Go Bump In The Night


Another restless night passes me by rather lethargically, leaving me with buckoo amounts of spare time to contemplate the inner workings of myself. Because it is 2:37 a.m., this delving into my inner psyche isn't exactly peachy keen and jelly beans in nature. Tonight's topic?

Fear.

Growing up, my fears were based around whatever movies I had watched, ghost stories that my friends passed on, or getting separated from my family in Wal-Mart and being abducted by some sicko who wanted to harvest my childish body parts for some sicko skin mask or something. I was absolutely terrified by the first Gremlins movie (I swear, I lost at least 3 weeks of sleep my 1st grade year thinking that Spike was lurking somewhere in the shadows of my room). It's funny to think of that now when I watch that movie, that I was ever intimidated by such a crudely made puppet. (The same thing goes for Stephen Kings "Cats Eye") My fears were based on the things in life that I (and most of the general public) didn't understand. Because I was instilled with the thought of "anything is possible", it seemed natural to assume that scary creatures hid in my closet waiting for the very minute that one of my toes slid out from underneath the covers.





Now that I'm older, I fear the things that I know. Cancer, mental illness, abandonment, my dogs breaking their leash and running head first into a car, inability to reproduce, Rush Limbaugh, and nuclear warfare to name a few. These are things that I think about when I've had a bad day and want to punish myself with "what-if" scenario's. I can sleep with my feet out from under the covers now, but sleep is harder to come by as the sands of my hour glass settle at the bottom keeping company those years that had gone ...







I never thought I would miss the days when my biggest concern was some imagined ghoul with a foot fetish stalking me like an overzealous Britney Spears fan *cough, Crocker*, but I do. I know that most would say it is easier to deal with those things we know exist, that we can formulate solutions to, and prevail over those evils. I disagree. As much as I wish it would, being held by someone you love doesn't stop the threat of cancer slowly riddling your body. Turning on the light doesn't stop thousands of women from being told "I'm sorry, your simply not a good candidate for reproduction".

Not all scary things go bump in the night. The things in life that are truly scary are things that we feel we have no control over. Things that we KNOW exist, that we have little or no control over, those are the things that keeps a gal in her mid twenties blogging, instead of sleeping.
Since I'm being neurotic and can't sleep, I think it's only fair that I ask ya'll to spill your guts on what your greatest fear is. Unless...spilling your guts IS your greatest fear. So complex!




Sunday, July 26, 2009

I'll Meet Your Anger Management And Raise You One Dropkick To The Face!



Gather round folkies, and I'll fill you in on a little something about myself that you might not know just from reading my random blogging.
Sometimes, I get angry (okay at least 3 times a week on average). When I say angry I'm not talking about muttering to myself and sulking off into a corner to hold imaginary "I would have said THAT" conversations". I'm talking about honk my horn, wave my fist, I would stomp your guts in if I could, angry.
This is something that has been cultivating since our move to a suburban area where I'm constantly assaulted with mind blowing feats of inconsideration and stupidity, including the harassment letter we received a few weeks ago for having a few sprigs of grass (A.K.A "weeds"" during a particularly busy work week from our lovely neighborhood Nazi's association. You can rest assured that I took no prisoners in my flower bed that day and I murdered those grass sprigs weeds without mercy (imagine a growling lunatic wielding a trowel and you would have a pretty accurate image of yours truly that day)



I know that anger is bad. I know that it hurts me a thousand times more than it hurts the people or things that my anger is targeted towards. I know a life lived with minimal anger is a better life, a more peaceful, centered, joyful life. Up until now, I've been pretty slow to "rile" as we call it here in the South. I have a family tree full of Irish hot heads who didn't know when enough was enough and a family cemetery full of people who died much too young from heart attacks (our low stupidity tolerance is obviously genetic) so I'm willing to work on finding my chi, my zen, my nirvana so that I don't croak by the age of 40.
I vent. I steam. I froth at the mouth when I am passed on the median of the road by someone who is obviously running late for their daily douching (I'm sure you could call ahead, bitchy soccer mom, and they'll watch the extra 2 minutes you gain by passing me illegally). Or if someone gives their cashier at the grocery a hard time for not reading their mind and using the coupons they still have stuffed into their grubby, obviously "malnourished" palms.
Today I'm going to try get in touch with the calmer me, the me before I was poisoned by suburbia's "fast this" "hurry that" "drink the Koooool Aid Critty" "We secretly worship Satan" mentality.
Yoda said it best and since I'm a nerd for even referring to Yoda at all, I'll go the distance and actually quote him just to display how desperately geeky I am..."Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering."
You know, for a little green dude living in the a sewer swamp, he was pretty spot on.


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