You know those days when you're just so over everyone and their shit and everything and all it's shit? The days where nothing short of a bottle of wine, followed by dirty, drunken, sex, followed by a drunken coma will make you happy (and by happy I mean less inclined to kill anyone that gets between you and the two previously listed pleasures)? I'm so beyond having one of those days that I've said, 'fuck wine, fuck margaritas, gimme the tequila and go the hell away'.
I think normal people get in this place of pure disdain for life and turn to their friends and cocktails. I get in this place and create wedges of anger between the people that I care for most and myself. All I really want is to curl up with my kids and watch a movie and then fall into bed with TSMA and go to sleep. But because there is the possibility of my not getting what I want when I'm already in a crabby fucking mood, I tell him to pretty much fuck off, I'll see you whenever. Exactly the opposite of what I really want, but why would make myself more vulnerable than I already am right now? I am in the business of protecting my heart and maintaining it's walls; not opening the gate to an army.
With all that said, I think I need to start expressing myself a little better to this man because he really seldom does anything that annoys me (oh there are a few things, but they aren't important enough to really worry about at this point in our relationship) and I am sure I do many things that annoy him (maybe not, I am pretty fucking awesome, the epitome of, in fact). Whatever the case, I think that if we are going to flourish in our respected places of awesome, we need to start communicating a little better and going the extra mile to try and understand one another's feelings, even if we don't understand them.
It might just be the tequila talking or I might be a genius. Either way, cheers, bitches!
Wednesday, May 29, 2013
Sunday, May 26, 2013
Even though you already know, I thought I'd let you know...
"You don't have to go to sleep, honey. I know you're a night owl."
Huh?
"You don't have to sleep now just because I am."
I know. I'm tired though.
...ten minutes go by and I'm out of bed, he's snoring and I'm blogging.
TSMA has asked me many times, but most recently a week or so ago, why I am so "into" him. 'I don't know, you're fucking retarded', is the answer I most often give. Him asking and that not being a sufficient enough answer (though, I really don't understand why it's not. Given my history with men, I would think it would be taken as a compliment, but WHATEVER), I actually started thinking about it and have began listing the reasons in my mental log of All Things Awesome (that's right, Kev. You've become part of The Awesome).
I believe if I were to start listing these things, however, he would find massive errors and reason to complain about the things I deem as admirable qualities. He is mildly egotistical, though beautifully humble. But he knows that.
He is wonderfully hilarious and depressingly realistic. But he knows that.
He is comfortably reasonable, but irrational. But he knows that.
He's a phenomonal listener and reciprocates appropriately, but he knows that.
He is a compassionate dad that encourages and coaches and supports his kids with a love I know all too well. I know he knows that because it's why he lives and breathes.
He's conservativly passionate and desires to please...and I'm betting he knows that, too.
He is specifically observant and willing to adjust his almost stone-set ways, but he knows that.
He's warm. The kind of warm that warrants a warning label stating he is not resposible for items within 10 feet of him combusting. I'm pretty certain he knows that.
He's handsome and charming and thrills me with his simple smile and signature chuckle. He defintely knows that.
He is my biggest fan. More than anyone I have ever known in my life, he wants me to succeed and provides all the necessary feedback and encouragment to give me, my biggest critic, reason to believe I can. He definitely knows that. He tells me so all the time.
He sometimes looks at me in that way one does when they're happy with the simple fact that you're a part of their life. I know he already knows that. It's again something he verbalizes to me often.
So, you see...there just isn't a list of things I can give him because I think that the reason behind the question is to hear things you aren't already aware of yourself. I mean...that's why I would ask. So...I started thinking of those things, you know, paying closer attention to the mental dialogue I somewhat subconciously run when I am with him...trying to create some sort of list of validating character traits I am falling stupidly for that may be worthy of his reading because I possibly found a few things this Stark-like ego doesn't already know about.
My entire life, when falling asleep, I have always rubbed my foot against the sheets. I never realized I was doing it until my ex-husband so callously pointed out to me that I was going to wear a hole in the sheets with my habitual bedtime ritual. I became aware, from that point on, of the fact that I even did this rhythmic dance every night. I think I have once, since sharing a bed with TSMA, gone through this previously needed action. I would be shocked if he knew the signficance it once was or the necessary peace of mind it once brought me. Since knowing him, it's disappeared.
I know it seems vague and insignifcant. I think the men in my life that are familiar with the annoyance of it will find it's disappearance a God given miracle and the fact that I can pin point that, even more signifcant.
So, sweet man of mine, I'm sorry I don't have a long, beautiful list of reasons I adore you. I know I feel the reasons, my abilty to express them sucks because I cannot verbalize my thoughts with any sort of elegance or grace. And I really don't know that you want to hear me stroke your ego for things you already know you do and are. Maybe I'm wrong, though, because sometimes I need to hear those kinds of things about myself.
Oh, and I look amazing in just his Hawks jersey...I'm certain he's well aware of that little fact, though...
In any event, honey, I'm happy I know you, too.
Huh?
"You don't have to sleep now just because I am."
I know. I'm tired though.
...ten minutes go by and I'm out of bed, he's snoring and I'm blogging.
TSMA has asked me many times, but most recently a week or so ago, why I am so "into" him. 'I don't know, you're fucking retarded', is the answer I most often give. Him asking and that not being a sufficient enough answer (though, I really don't understand why it's not. Given my history with men, I would think it would be taken as a compliment, but WHATEVER), I actually started thinking about it and have began listing the reasons in my mental log of All Things Awesome (that's right, Kev. You've become part of The Awesome).
I believe if I were to start listing these things, however, he would find massive errors and reason to complain about the things I deem as admirable qualities. He is mildly egotistical, though beautifully humble. But he knows that.
He is wonderfully hilarious and depressingly realistic. But he knows that.
He is comfortably reasonable, but irrational. But he knows that.
He's a phenomonal listener and reciprocates appropriately, but he knows that.
He is a compassionate dad that encourages and coaches and supports his kids with a love I know all too well. I know he knows that because it's why he lives and breathes.
He's conservativly passionate and desires to please...and I'm betting he knows that, too.
He is specifically observant and willing to adjust his almost stone-set ways, but he knows that.
He's warm. The kind of warm that warrants a warning label stating he is not resposible for items within 10 feet of him combusting. I'm pretty certain he knows that.
He's handsome and charming and thrills me with his simple smile and signature chuckle. He defintely knows that.
He is my biggest fan. More than anyone I have ever known in my life, he wants me to succeed and provides all the necessary feedback and encouragment to give me, my biggest critic, reason to believe I can. He definitely knows that. He tells me so all the time.
He sometimes looks at me in that way one does when they're happy with the simple fact that you're a part of their life. I know he already knows that. It's again something he verbalizes to me often.
So, you see...there just isn't a list of things I can give him because I think that the reason behind the question is to hear things you aren't already aware of yourself. I mean...that's why I would ask. So...I started thinking of those things, you know, paying closer attention to the mental dialogue I somewhat subconciously run when I am with him...trying to create some sort of list of validating character traits I am falling stupidly for that may be worthy of his reading because I possibly found a few things this Stark-like ego doesn't already know about.
My entire life, when falling asleep, I have always rubbed my foot against the sheets. I never realized I was doing it until my ex-husband so callously pointed out to me that I was going to wear a hole in the sheets with my habitual bedtime ritual. I became aware, from that point on, of the fact that I even did this rhythmic dance every night. I think I have once, since sharing a bed with TSMA, gone through this previously needed action. I would be shocked if he knew the signficance it once was or the necessary peace of mind it once brought me. Since knowing him, it's disappeared.
I know it seems vague and insignifcant. I think the men in my life that are familiar with the annoyance of it will find it's disappearance a God given miracle and the fact that I can pin point that, even more signifcant.
So, sweet man of mine, I'm sorry I don't have a long, beautiful list of reasons I adore you. I know I feel the reasons, my abilty to express them sucks because I cannot verbalize my thoughts with any sort of elegance or grace. And I really don't know that you want to hear me stroke your ego for things you already know you do and are. Maybe I'm wrong, though, because sometimes I need to hear those kinds of things about myself.
Oh, and I look amazing in just his Hawks jersey...I'm certain he's well aware of that little fact, though...
In any event, honey, I'm happy I know you, too.
Friday, May 24, 2013
It is seldom that I get to enjoy a cup of coffee early in the morning and in complete silence, no less. But today is one of those rare moments. TSMA left to go to work, the kids are still snoozing and the coffee is brewed. Today I am leaving to head to St. Louis with my seester. We're going to see my favorite band play and visit with my favorite people. This is the start of what I know will be an awesome weekend and I couldn't need it more than I do right now. Work has been stressful, the kids have been out of school for less than 48 hours and already have me counting the days until classes resume.
Seester and I have always wanted to take a road trip. We've been partners in crime for over 15years now...is that right? Since we were about 12...WOW. This will be our first road trip sans the parental units. In less than a month she will also be moving to 'The Wood' and we will for the first time ever live in the same zip code.
I would like to remind her right now, of the time we went to the Up In Smoke show in Rosemont, at the age of maybe 15 or 16, a time I had to create a HUGE lie to be able to go becuase there was no way in Hell my parents would allow me to see the likes of Eminem, Dre and Snoop. We had soooo much fun though and one memory that comes to mind involves the flashing of a car full of boys. There was a late night, pot induced visit to Taco Bell, too, and I believe a pint or 2 of Ben and Jerry's. Munchies are a bitch. I don't doubt this trip to be any less epic, minus the harmless herbal substances. We now find that kind of trouble without the assistance of gateway drugs.
Oh we are much more grown up and responsible these days. Nearing the end of our 20's and both of us with children and bad relationships under our belts, we're at a point where we may not talk in depth about much of anything and the times we see each other are few and sometimes far between. But all it really takes for us is a text message with some ridiculously well fitting eCard attatched to remind the other we're always right there, should we need anything.
So, as I hear the kids starting to wake up and I still have not packed one item for this trip I am leaving for in less than 3 hours, I want to take one final moment to express to you the type of relationship this bestest friend and I have and show you a preview as to how this weekend will go...
Seester and I have always wanted to take a road trip. We've been partners in crime for over 15years now...is that right? Since we were about 12...WOW. This will be our first road trip sans the parental units. In less than a month she will also be moving to 'The Wood' and we will for the first time ever live in the same zip code.
I would like to remind her right now, of the time we went to the Up In Smoke show in Rosemont, at the age of maybe 15 or 16, a time I had to create a HUGE lie to be able to go becuase there was no way in Hell my parents would allow me to see the likes of Eminem, Dre and Snoop. We had soooo much fun though and one memory that comes to mind involves the flashing of a car full of boys. There was a late night, pot induced visit to Taco Bell, too, and I believe a pint or 2 of Ben and Jerry's. Munchies are a bitch. I don't doubt this trip to be any less epic, minus the harmless herbal substances. We now find that kind of trouble without the assistance of gateway drugs.
Oh we are much more grown up and responsible these days. Nearing the end of our 20's and both of us with children and bad relationships under our belts, we're at a point where we may not talk in depth about much of anything and the times we see each other are few and sometimes far between. But all it really takes for us is a text message with some ridiculously well fitting eCard attatched to remind the other we're always right there, should we need anything.
So, as I hear the kids starting to wake up and I still have not packed one item for this trip I am leaving for in less than 3 hours, I want to take one final moment to express to you the type of relationship this bestest friend and I have and show you a preview as to how this weekend will go...
Love you, Seester! Let the shenanigans begin!!!
Sunday, May 19, 2013
What the shit, Taco Bell?
What in the hell happened to the days of pulling up to a Taco Bell drive-thru with a possibly above .08 BAC and ordering a God damn taco??? I pulled into the drive thru tonight and this very polite, stoner fuck of a kid took my order. I ordered a taco and a nachos Bell Grande. Then the Polite Stoner Fuck proceeded to ask my drunk ass a plethora of questions I was ill prepared for. This is how the conversation went:
Stoner-Fuck: Welcome to Taco Bell!!! What can I get for you tonight?
Me, looking at the clock thinking he had the time wrong when he said 'tonight', because usually it's well after mindnight when I visit a Taco Bell. Realizing it was only 11pm and after a very pregnant pause I responed with a...: UUUUUUMMMMMM...(I was shouting because I had my radio a little too louder than Taco-Bell ettiquette allows..)...CAN I...
Stoner-Fuck: MA'AM, CAN YOU TURN YOUR RADIO DOWN, PLEASE, SO I CAN ASSIST YOU BETTER?
Me: YES!!! (I then reduced the volume)...I'm sorry, but did you just address me as "ma'am"?
Stoner-Fuck: Yes, ma'am, I did.
Me: Ok. I was just asking. UUUUUUUUUMMMMMMMM....may I please have a nachos bell grande, a cheesy gordita cruch and a water, please? (Yes I said 'please' twice because I am polite as fuck and I felt badly about the whole radio thing. Anyway...)
>>>>stoner fuck then proceeded to ask me 869,543 questions I was not ready to answer.<<<<<
Stoner Fuck: "Would you like one of those as a combo deal?
Me: UUUUUUUMMMMMMMMMM...Yes???
Stoner Fuck: Well it will save you thirty eight and a half cents, ma'am.
Me: Oh!!! Well, in that case yes, I'd like 2 please.
Stoner Fuck: Two which, ma'am?
Me: 2 of the...I don't know, could Ijust have a nachos bell grande, a cheesy gordita crunch and a water please?
Stoner Fuck: What kind of taco would you like with that nachos bell grande? Hard or soft?
Me, giggling like a 13 yo girl: Oh I want it hard...please... AND THANK YOU.
Stoner Fuck: Very well, ma'am. Now, would you like that as a Doritos taco or a corn shell?
Me: UUUUUUUUMMMMMM...Doritos, please. (As if there should even be another option)
Stoner Fuck: Would you like that Doriotos taco nacho cheese or cool ranch?
Me: UUUUUUUUUUMMMMMMM....nacho cheese, please! (que giggloe becuase, well, cheese and please rhyme)
Stoner Fuck: Ok, thank you, ma'am. Your total is >insert some ridiculously absurd number that no one should ever pay for drive thru anything<. Please pull ahead to the window.
I pull ahead to the designated window, assuming to throw this little shit pile kid that keeps calling me 'ma'am' a wad of singles, flash him my brilliant smile, ask for fire sauce and go about my happy, buzzed way home. But noooooooo....Stoner Fuck had other plans in mind...
Stoner Fuck: Hello, ma' (stops mid sentence upon viewing the timeless beauty that is my face), Miss. Hello, Miss.
Me: Well hello, Stoner Fuck. (Ok. I didn't actually call him that at this point, but I would have considered it if I weren't suddenly craving fucking nachos bell grande like a pregnant woman may)
Stoner Fuck: Now, with this water...would you like bottle or a cup?
Me: (TSMA sized eye roll) A cup is phenomonal. Please and also...thank you.
Stoner Fuck: Would you like any sauces with this, Miss?
Me: (UUUUUUMMMMMM...not the sauce you're wanting to fill my taco with but...)...yes,,,fire, please.
Stoner Fuck, handing me a bag: There you are, Miss. Please have a wonderful night.
Me, weighing the single bag in my hand: Thank you, you as well...is my nachos bell grande in here??
Stoner Fuck: Yes, miss, it is.
Me: Fabulous. You have a fantastice evening.
Stoner Fuck: Thank you. You, too.
After I got home and began examining the contents of my Taco Bell goodies, I discovered that SStoner Fuck did not give me any God damned fire sauce. I got over that pretty quickly but after devouring my Doritos taco I pulled out the nachos to start on that and this is what I saw:
Stoner-Fuck: Welcome to Taco Bell!!! What can I get for you tonight?
Me, looking at the clock thinking he had the time wrong when he said 'tonight', because usually it's well after mindnight when I visit a Taco Bell. Realizing it was only 11pm and after a very pregnant pause I responed with a...: UUUUUUMMMMMM...(I was shouting because I had my radio a little too louder than Taco-Bell ettiquette allows..)...CAN I...
Stoner-Fuck: MA'AM, CAN YOU TURN YOUR RADIO DOWN, PLEASE, SO I CAN ASSIST YOU BETTER?
Me: YES!!! (I then reduced the volume)...I'm sorry, but did you just address me as "ma'am"?
Stoner-Fuck: Yes, ma'am, I did.
Me: Ok. I was just asking. UUUUUUUUUMMMMMMMM....may I please have a nachos bell grande, a cheesy gordita cruch and a water, please? (Yes I said 'please' twice because I am polite as fuck and I felt badly about the whole radio thing. Anyway...)
>>>>stoner fuck then proceeded to ask me 869,543 questions I was not ready to answer.<<<<<
Stoner Fuck: "Would you like one of those as a combo deal?
Me: UUUUUUUMMMMMMMMMM...Yes???
Stoner Fuck: Well it will save you thirty eight and a half cents, ma'am.
Me: Oh!!! Well, in that case yes, I'd like 2 please.
Stoner Fuck: Two which, ma'am?
Me: 2 of the...I don't know, could Ijust have a nachos bell grande, a cheesy gordita crunch and a water please?
Stoner Fuck: What kind of taco would you like with that nachos bell grande? Hard or soft?
Me, giggling like a 13 yo girl: Oh I want it hard...please... AND THANK YOU.
Stoner Fuck: Very well, ma'am. Now, would you like that as a Doritos taco or a corn shell?
Me: UUUUUUUUMMMMMM...Doritos, please. (As if there should even be another option)
Stoner Fuck: Would you like that Doriotos taco nacho cheese or cool ranch?
Me: UUUUUUUUUUMMMMMMM....nacho cheese, please! (que giggloe becuase, well, cheese and please rhyme)
Stoner Fuck: Ok, thank you, ma'am. Your total is >insert some ridiculously absurd number that no one should ever pay for drive thru anything<. Please pull ahead to the window.
I pull ahead to the designated window, assuming to throw this little shit pile kid that keeps calling me 'ma'am' a wad of singles, flash him my brilliant smile, ask for fire sauce and go about my happy, buzzed way home. But noooooooo....Stoner Fuck had other plans in mind...
Stoner Fuck: Hello, ma' (stops mid sentence upon viewing the timeless beauty that is my face), Miss. Hello, Miss.
Me: Well hello, Stoner Fuck. (Ok. I didn't actually call him that at this point, but I would have considered it if I weren't suddenly craving fucking nachos bell grande like a pregnant woman may)
Stoner Fuck: Now, with this water...would you like bottle or a cup?
Me: (TSMA sized eye roll) A cup is phenomonal. Please and also...thank you.
Stoner Fuck: Would you like any sauces with this, Miss?
Me: (UUUUUUMMMMMM...not the sauce you're wanting to fill my taco with but...)...yes,,,fire, please.
Stoner Fuck, handing me a bag: There you are, Miss. Please have a wonderful night.
Me, weighing the single bag in my hand: Thank you, you as well...is my nachos bell grande in here??
Stoner Fuck: Yes, miss, it is.
Me: Fabulous. You have a fantastice evening.
Stoner Fuck: Thank you. You, too.
After I got home and began examining the contents of my Taco Bell goodies, I discovered that SStoner Fuck did not give me any God damned fire sauce. I got over that pretty quickly but after devouring my Doritos taco I pulled out the nachos to start on that and this is what I saw:
Can someone please tell me what the shit this is??? I fucking said nachos bell GRANDE. Where the fuck are my tomatoes and shit??? There is nothing fucking grand about this shit excuse of a fast food mexican dish (although, really, I think nachos are an American creation, but I could be wrong). Next time I will be checking my purchase before driving away, you Polite And Possibly Retarded, Stoner Fuck.
Sunday, May 12, 2013
Being a momma is realizing the strengths you never knew you had in you, and dealing with fears you never knew could exist.
Happy Mother's Day, bitches!
After having posted this, The Sexiest Man Alive arrived at my door. This is what he brought me.
This is the first time TSMA has brought me flowers...and there must have been at least 8 dozen of them. Some of them are in my one and only vase...the rest are in mason jars and old tequila bottles because, you know, I'm classy like that.
Friday, May 10, 2013
I always hate when I read a post or an article that starts with, "Webster's Dictionary defines (insert random word here) as...". I mean, I hate it in the sense of it causes me intestional agony. One of the most important and validated characteristics I hold myself accountable for day in and day out is INTEGRITY.
I value integrity on such an epic level that I have ended potentially awesome relationships because I felt the counter part in the deal lacked it too severely to continue. I think that often times the actual characteristic of being integral is mis-interpreted. So, with reluctant excitment, I present you the Webster's definition of integrity
"firm adherence to a code of especially moral or artistic values : incorruptibility "
What I have always translated the definition of integrity to be is as simple as, "doing the right thing when no one is looking". I really adhere to this in every aspect of my life. I think Webster had it right...'adhereing to a code of...incorruptibility".
I wrote recently on the disconnect I feel from Christ these days. Thinking about it now I think what keeps me closest to Him is my sense of integrity. I always try to behave as if He is watching. And while I know I fail that notion daily, I know that no person is perfect. But I believe that because He lives in my heart and knows me as an individual, my efforts are met with grace and love and true appreciation.
It stands true to me time and time again that those I have known who lack integrity are the people who have spend their lives trying to be someone they're not. I don't find that admirable. I think the basic foundation of becoming a complete person and valuable member to our existence is being a person that does the right thing when no one is looking.
I value integrity on such an epic level that I have ended potentially awesome relationships because I felt the counter part in the deal lacked it too severely to continue. I think that often times the actual characteristic of being integral is mis-interpreted. So, with reluctant excitment, I present you the Webster's definition of integrity
"firm adherence to a code of especially moral or artistic values : incorruptibility "
What I have always translated the definition of integrity to be is as simple as, "doing the right thing when no one is looking". I really adhere to this in every aspect of my life. I think Webster had it right...'adhereing to a code of...incorruptibility".
I wrote recently on the disconnect I feel from Christ these days. Thinking about it now I think what keeps me closest to Him is my sense of integrity. I always try to behave as if He is watching. And while I know I fail that notion daily, I know that no person is perfect. But I believe that because He lives in my heart and knows me as an individual, my efforts are met with grace and love and true appreciation.
It stands true to me time and time again that those I have known who lack integrity are the people who have spend their lives trying to be someone they're not. I don't find that admirable. I think the basic foundation of becoming a complete person and valuable member to our existence is being a person that does the right thing when no one is looking.
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