I love that every time I log into Blogger and try to start a new post it tells me that I am in need of an update and it may not support my blog content. Sounds about right. Fits the story of my life. Probably a warning sign to stop spewing the garbage that flows so steadily from my lips, but hey! They're pretty lips. I believe even trash is appealing when falling from them.
The thing pressing against the backside of my eyeballs from inside my skull tonight is this: parenting! AND parents! What is one and who gets to be one and who the Hell makes these choices? I'll pose this all to you in the way it flows through my brain, as I do most things, disorganized and possibly offensive. But I certainly am not trying to be and mean zero disrespect to anyone that is a parent because I full heartedly understand the struggle this is. For those that don't know, me I am a single parent of three and while their father is somewhat involved, it would appear in the last few years that raising them, actually R-A-I-S-I-N-G them, has fallen solely on my shoulders. A job I am no more worthy of than I am to raise a kitten to be a cat. But I digress.
o
I have had, through the wonderfully hilarious and often very inspiring medium of social media, been able to watch many INTELLIGENT people fail at this aspect of life. And, all I can contribute to their complete lack of what I consider, basic human instinct, is maturity. And it's pathetic that I've taken a seemingly higher and slightly judgemental positron because if you know me, you know I certainly...well...I was going to say I haven't earned that, but life decided I certainly have, so here I am. Free to JUDGE AND my judgment is this: unless you see a parent physically , intentionally or completely without competence, HURTING their kid...then shut the fuck up. Seriously. You're an amazing asshole.
Monday, December 8, 2014
Sunday, November 2, 2014
Comcast stands for CommonCuntAssShitTard...
How lucky did I get? I base...daily...my frame of mind on the things that are happening around me. Maybe this is good. Maybe this is bad. Maybe it's a good mix of the two. I think the latter of the three is probably most accurate. Tonight my sweetest reason(s) to live are with their father. So I have been home and cooked. I made a fabulous Shepherd's Pie. If I weren't so lazy, I would totally post the link for you all to enjoy as much as TSMA and I did with some friends. Buuuuuuutttt...I'm definitely that lazy and don't feel the need to share my phenomenal recipe with all you losers.
Anyway...I did have a point when I started this, but then when Comcast started behaving like a God damn twat waffle and wouldn't play my Mike Rowe in the background for me, which led to my cursing the television, smacking my sexy man in the arm and demanding, "KEVY! Why the shit isn't this working??? The picture is there but I can't hear it. There isn't any audio." He instructed me to turn the cable box off and try again. I petted his pretty little head and apologized for waking him for such a stupid thing. I did what he said. It WORKED. And then, the commercial played AND IT STOPPED FUCKING WORKING. And this is where shit got bad.
I seriously started this mother fucking post while TSMA was falling asleep with an arm around me, my kitten was half asleep in my God damn lap, Mike Rowe was on the telly-poo and I was thinking, "HOW did I get so LUCKY?". I was going to elaborate, in detail, about those little, wonderful things and then Comcast RUINED MY LIFE.
I'm so mad I don't even want to talk about it. I only want to throw the remote at the TV and call it a day. I had the most wonderful man in the world, falling asleep at my side, an arm draped over me. I had the world's most beautiful kitten asleep on my arm and the most intelligent man in television playing On Demand. I was missing my wonderful, lovely children. I was thinking about tucking them into bed. But I was happy. I was going to tell you three unique individuals, just how happy I was. And then Comcast happened. They RUIN EVERYTHING. They are a gigantic conglomerate. You have NO choice. So they can charge you whatever they deem fit. And fine. Good job, Capitalism. BUT, and here's where I get MAD, when you want to crawl into your bed with THE sexiest man alive, let your kitty fall asleep at your side, think about the beautiful way you're raising your kids and how all you do will pay off one day and watch your God damn 6th favorite man EVER talk about drinking urine in the morning and COMCAST can't get their fucking shit together, it really fucking pisses me off.
Because I was so utterly annoyed with the fact I couldn't HEAR...yeah...they're so retarded they can't figure out audio....I was so annoyed I restarted everything at TSMA's suggestion and then THEY DID IT AGAIN. And that is when he rolled over, the kitten jumped off the bed, I can assume my offspring rolled over in bed. They all got annoyed with me because the one time I wanted to watch something that was just for me...I watch everything with and for everyone in my life and that's okay but this time, this time it was just for me...The mother fucking CABLE is a God damn asshole.
I HATE FUCKING COMCAST.
Anyway...I did have a point when I started this, but then when Comcast started behaving like a God damn twat waffle and wouldn't play my Mike Rowe in the background for me, which led to my cursing the television, smacking my sexy man in the arm and demanding, "KEVY! Why the shit isn't this working??? The picture is there but I can't hear it. There isn't any audio." He instructed me to turn the cable box off and try again. I petted his pretty little head and apologized for waking him for such a stupid thing. I did what he said. It WORKED. And then, the commercial played AND IT STOPPED FUCKING WORKING. And this is where shit got bad.
I seriously started this mother fucking post while TSMA was falling asleep with an arm around me, my kitten was half asleep in my God damn lap, Mike Rowe was on the telly-poo and I was thinking, "HOW did I get so LUCKY?". I was going to elaborate, in detail, about those little, wonderful things and then Comcast RUINED MY LIFE.
I'm so mad I don't even want to talk about it. I only want to throw the remote at the TV and call it a day. I had the most wonderful man in the world, falling asleep at my side, an arm draped over me. I had the world's most beautiful kitten asleep on my arm and the most intelligent man in television playing On Demand. I was missing my wonderful, lovely children. I was thinking about tucking them into bed. But I was happy. I was going to tell you three unique individuals, just how happy I was. And then Comcast happened. They RUIN EVERYTHING. They are a gigantic conglomerate. You have NO choice. So they can charge you whatever they deem fit. And fine. Good job, Capitalism. BUT, and here's where I get MAD, when you want to crawl into your bed with THE sexiest man alive, let your kitty fall asleep at your side, think about the beautiful way you're raising your kids and how all you do will pay off one day and watch your God damn 6th favorite man EVER talk about drinking urine in the morning and COMCAST can't get their fucking shit together, it really fucking pisses me off.
Because I was so utterly annoyed with the fact I couldn't HEAR...yeah...they're so retarded they can't figure out audio....I was so annoyed I restarted everything at TSMA's suggestion and then THEY DID IT AGAIN. And that is when he rolled over, the kitten jumped off the bed, I can assume my offspring rolled over in bed. They all got annoyed with me because the one time I wanted to watch something that was just for me...I watch everything with and for everyone in my life and that's okay but this time, this time it was just for me...The mother fucking CABLE is a God damn asshole.
I HATE FUCKING COMCAST.
Monday, October 13, 2014
This song has been a constant in mylife for far too long. http://m.youtube.com/results?q=goddamn%20lonely%20love%20drive%20by%20truckers%20&sm=1
Tuesday, August 12, 2014
Cheers, bitches...
So...I started a post earlier tonight that was fueled by bullshit I never normally engage in. I'm pretty passive by nature. It's just kind of engrained in my genetics. After thinking about it some, I decided this was a much more uplifting and worth-my-effort expenditure of energy and brilliance.
So, here is a list of people and things I live for, in no particular order.
Emma Lou, thank you for being so wonderfully thoughtful, even though seldom towards me, but when you pulled grandma's garbage cans in the other day, without anyone ever asking or expecting you to, my heart melted and I knew you are learning the good I try to teach you in life. You are a sweet, sweet, girl. I love you with every fiber of my being, sweet one.
Ryan, my little terrorist. Thank you for crying the other night when I explained to you how you were scaring our new little kitten. I now know you not only have an incredible sweet spot and are not pure evil, but I also know, you are listening when mommy talks. At least sometimes and maybe when it's important. Keep being sweet. Keep listening. Keep learning. Never doubt yourself because you have so much potential. I love you with my whole heart, little man.
Logan Michael, my precious little minion. Thank you for always letting me know you're hungry. because if you didn't, I would definitely forget to feed you 3 square meals and at least 3 snacks every day. Thank you for recognizing love in it's most horrifying forms (X3). Thank you for loving me more than hot dogs. You're a close second to coffee, but I mean very close. A pubic hair away. I love you more than peanut butter on a spoon.
Sexiest Man Alive. Thank you for supporting me in everything I do. For never giving me the response I want to hear, but always what I need. For being the best source of laughter, love and pure joy anyone could ever hope for. You are so important to me. I hope you know that and know how happy you make me. I truly hate your face, baby.
Mom. Thank you for always being a source of inspiration. You make me want to be a better person and never fail to remind me of where I came from and who I am. Thank you for being THE BEST grandmother any child could ever ask for. I honestly believe "Grandma" is who you were meant to be. You remind me of the 2 grandmothers I had (have) and my kids couldn't be luckier. Thank you fer keeping God in their lives. Thank you for keeping Granny in their lives. Thank you for keeping dad's memory alive in their minds. Thank you for loving me no matter how much I don't love myself at times.
All the rest of you fuckers that read my blog, support me through social media or somehow believe my life is a glorious display of folly on blast. I do appreciate your posts to my timeline, your comments on how fucking hilarious you think I am and your continued support of me fucking up my kids royally by being me. Honestly, you assholes are such gems.
Keep it classy.
So, here is a list of people and things I live for, in no particular order.
Emma Lou, thank you for being so wonderfully thoughtful, even though seldom towards me, but when you pulled grandma's garbage cans in the other day, without anyone ever asking or expecting you to, my heart melted and I knew you are learning the good I try to teach you in life. You are a sweet, sweet, girl. I love you with every fiber of my being, sweet one.
Ryan, my little terrorist. Thank you for crying the other night when I explained to you how you were scaring our new little kitten. I now know you not only have an incredible sweet spot and are not pure evil, but I also know, you are listening when mommy talks. At least sometimes and maybe when it's important. Keep being sweet. Keep listening. Keep learning. Never doubt yourself because you have so much potential. I love you with my whole heart, little man.
Logan Michael, my precious little minion. Thank you for always letting me know you're hungry. because if you didn't, I would definitely forget to feed you 3 square meals and at least 3 snacks every day. Thank you for recognizing love in it's most horrifying forms (X3). Thank you for loving me more than hot dogs. You're a close second to coffee, but I mean very close. A pubic hair away. I love you more than peanut butter on a spoon.
Sexiest Man Alive. Thank you for supporting me in everything I do. For never giving me the response I want to hear, but always what I need. For being the best source of laughter, love and pure joy anyone could ever hope for. You are so important to me. I hope you know that and know how happy you make me. I truly hate your face, baby.
Mom. Thank you for always being a source of inspiration. You make me want to be a better person and never fail to remind me of where I came from and who I am. Thank you for being THE BEST grandmother any child could ever ask for. I honestly believe "Grandma" is who you were meant to be. You remind me of the 2 grandmothers I had (have) and my kids couldn't be luckier. Thank you fer keeping God in their lives. Thank you for keeping Granny in their lives. Thank you for keeping dad's memory alive in their minds. Thank you for loving me no matter how much I don't love myself at times.
All the rest of you fuckers that read my blog, support me through social media or somehow believe my life is a glorious display of folly on blast. I do appreciate your posts to my timeline, your comments on how fucking hilarious you think I am and your continued support of me fucking up my kids royally by being me. Honestly, you assholes are such gems.
Keep it classy.
Saturday, August 2, 2014
"Tomorrow" is my 30th birthday. I put that in quotes because I am actually writing this on February 14th, a whole 6 months left in my 20s. I am sitting at TSMA's house after a few hours of drinking listening to him play his guitar upstairs. I am angry with my job, my life and the lack of progress I think I've made in my 29 years. I am sad because it disappoints me. I am broken because I think I disappoint my kids.
In any event, this song rings true as it always has, and especially now because, well, 29 and you'd think I'd know better, living like I do...
Time won't stand by forever if I know it's true
And I've learned not to say never
Or else I'll seem the fool
Twenty-nine you'd think I'd know better
Living like a kid
When my lies may seem less than clever
Is when I fall for it
Only time will tell if wishing wells
Can bring us anything
Or fade like scenes from childhood dreams
Forgotten memories
Some rides don't have much of a finish
That's the ride I took
Through good and bad and straight through indifference
Without a second look
There's no intentions worthy of mention
If we never try
So hang your hopes on rusted-out hinges
Take 'em for a ride
Only time will tell if wishing wells
Can bring us anything
Or fade like scenes from childhood dreams
Forgotten memories
Only time will tell...
In any event, this song rings true as it always has, and especially now because, well, 29 and you'd think I'd know better, living like I do...
Time won't stand by forever if I know it's true
And I've learned not to say never
Or else I'll seem the fool
Twenty-nine you'd think I'd know better
Living like a kid
When my lies may seem less than clever
Is when I fall for it
Only time will tell if wishing wells
Can bring us anything
Or fade like scenes from childhood dreams
Forgotten memories
Some rides don't have much of a finish
That's the ride I took
Through good and bad and straight through indifference
Without a second look
There's no intentions worthy of mention
If we never try
So hang your hopes on rusted-out hinges
Take 'em for a ride
Only time will tell if wishing wells
Can bring us anything
Or fade like scenes from childhood dreams
Forgotten memories
Only time will tell...
Tuesday, July 22, 2014
Sunday, July 13, 2014
sooooooo....mommas...feeling...
So....I had a...odd weekend. And I won't chronicle it here, because...trust me, you'd want to laugh, cry, cheer loudly and then shoot yourself in the face with lots of tequila. But what it's come down to tonight, is me sinking very quickly into that wonderfully black place I tend to get stuck in on occasion. So, in light of recognizing that and trying to avoid it, I decided to make a list of things I love about me. Things I actually, really LOVE about me. Little, sad, dark, sometimes pathetically both of those things...me. SOOOOO, hold on to your butts. Here I go...and in no order, other than things that are occurring to me as I type...
1-I love Mario. And I love it for A LOT of reasons. It gives me something to do when no one else is around. My kids LOVE watching me play which is fun because we actually bond over it. It brings back memories, that give me joy, of my childhood with my dad and siblings. OH! TSMA's dad also LOVES Mario. And while TSMA, his kids and his father may not enjoy my passionately based vocabulary over the game, I love that I can bond with someone who is so important in the life of a person that is...infinitely important in mine.
2-I know that an ellipsis's is THREE...dots...
3-I have an AWESOME ability to appreciate the interests and loves of people. Honestly, it is quite selfish because, I pray that I take something worth while or meaningful or I'll gain knowledge from doing so. EXAMPLE: Anyone I have EVER wanted to delete from social media accounts and HAVEN'T BECAUSE I feel their retardedness (yep, I'm coining that one. Pay up, bitches) is making me SMARTER. Or, the fact that...oh nevermind...where I was going is another thing I love about me. So, keep reading. I'm worth it.
4-Let's talk music. I listen to EVERYTHING. Well, that's a lie, because for the most part, I CANNOT stand country. But, occasionally, what all of you call "country" I will enjoy, on a purely lyrical basis. for instance, there is a song by someone or some band called Lady Antebellum that my kids love. Also, Hootie turned country. While his music annoys me, I still love the lyrics. AND, I mean honestly...I am me and choose what I like, but I have been influenced by every man I've dated. I love Zepplin because of my ex-husband. I love Chris Cornell because of the first man I dated after him. I liked Pearl Jam before, because of my dad, but I LOVE Eddie because of TSMA and I can honestly say, I love them more than someone who has only been exposed on a...proxy-like...???...basis, BECAUSE, my GUY, also plays them on his guitar for me, and for himself, really, but I DO get to hear it and I fucking love it. SO...By the by, I am grinding, alone, in my kitchen to Hurt Like Mine...Black Keys
5-I can mother fucking cook. I can.
6-I understand apartment living and I know this because I have not lynched anyone that may be deserving. Done.
7-I am horribly, wonderfully, incriminatingly, beautifully, forgivingly and forever thoughtful. I am thoughtful. It's an awful fault but wonderful beauty of who I am. I really don't have much to say about it...or maybe I do, but only because I feel my being that way has set an expectation for anyone I know.
I enjoy doing little things for people. People I love, people I don't know...for instance, I love buying coffee for the person behind me in line at Starbucks. I do it every other time I'm there. I LOVE when I go for a pedicure and take my daughter with me as a surprise. I love When my ex shows up to get the kids and I have a Monster waiting for him, and I CANNOT FUCKING STAND that man, anymore. I have, in the last week, set the coffee pot for The Sexiest Man Alive and set out a mug, with sugar and a spoon, waiting for him. I really get off on doing thoughtful things for others. It may be my supreme weakness because I think I have set an expectation for what I want from others. Those consistent little things. I haven't met anyone that does that. I could go on that subject...probably forever. People annoy me in that way. I really don't see it as anything other than being decent. And, you know, doing things that matter for the people you love. I just....it really bothers me when people miss THAT.
8-I love caffeine. And bacon. And if you bring me both without my asking, you win. You win more if you're the man I love and do that, duplicitly, and also give me sex. I'm easy to please.
9-I am loyal.
10-I'm...me. I'm real. I accept my flaws, mourn them and embrace them on a regular fucking, sad basis.
11-Bottom line is, I am, without question, worth knowing. If any of you, sad, shallow, shells of humans are still following my shit...delete me. Please. You're doing yourself a favor. My awesome is too much for you to handle.
So, there is me. Tooting my own horn, slobbing my own knob and not caring if you come...me. Sadly, I've gotten back to that place. I'll crawl out of it. But in the mean time, I'm just going to feel it. because lets face it...I do that best.
1-I love Mario. And I love it for A LOT of reasons. It gives me something to do when no one else is around. My kids LOVE watching me play which is fun because we actually bond over it. It brings back memories, that give me joy, of my childhood with my dad and siblings. OH! TSMA's dad also LOVES Mario. And while TSMA, his kids and his father may not enjoy my passionately based vocabulary over the game, I love that I can bond with someone who is so important in the life of a person that is...infinitely important in mine.
2-I know that an ellipsis's is THREE...dots...
3-I have an AWESOME ability to appreciate the interests and loves of people. Honestly, it is quite selfish because, I pray that I take something worth while or meaningful or I'll gain knowledge from doing so. EXAMPLE: Anyone I have EVER wanted to delete from social media accounts and HAVEN'T BECAUSE I feel their retardedness (yep, I'm coining that one. Pay up, bitches) is making me SMARTER. Or, the fact that...oh nevermind...where I was going is another thing I love about me. So, keep reading. I'm worth it.
4-Let's talk music. I listen to EVERYTHING. Well, that's a lie, because for the most part, I CANNOT stand country. But, occasionally, what all of you call "country" I will enjoy, on a purely lyrical basis. for instance, there is a song by someone or some band called Lady Antebellum that my kids love. Also, Hootie turned country. While his music annoys me, I still love the lyrics. AND, I mean honestly...I am me and choose what I like, but I have been influenced by every man I've dated. I love Zepplin because of my ex-husband. I love Chris Cornell because of the first man I dated after him. I liked Pearl Jam before, because of my dad, but I LOVE Eddie because of TSMA and I can honestly say, I love them more than someone who has only been exposed on a...proxy-like...???...basis, BECAUSE, my GUY, also plays them on his guitar for me, and for himself, really, but I DO get to hear it and I fucking love it. SO...By the by, I am grinding, alone, in my kitchen to Hurt Like Mine...Black Keys
5-I can mother fucking cook. I can.
6-I understand apartment living and I know this because I have not lynched anyone that may be deserving. Done.
7-I am horribly, wonderfully, incriminatingly, beautifully, forgivingly and forever thoughtful. I am thoughtful. It's an awful fault but wonderful beauty of who I am. I really don't have much to say about it...or maybe I do, but only because I feel my being that way has set an expectation for anyone I know.
I enjoy doing little things for people. People I love, people I don't know...for instance, I love buying coffee for the person behind me in line at Starbucks. I do it every other time I'm there. I LOVE when I go for a pedicure and take my daughter with me as a surprise. I love When my ex shows up to get the kids and I have a Monster waiting for him, and I CANNOT FUCKING STAND that man, anymore. I have, in the last week, set the coffee pot for The Sexiest Man Alive and set out a mug, with sugar and a spoon, waiting for him. I really get off on doing thoughtful things for others. It may be my supreme weakness because I think I have set an expectation for what I want from others. Those consistent little things. I haven't met anyone that does that. I could go on that subject...probably forever. People annoy me in that way. I really don't see it as anything other than being decent. And, you know, doing things that matter for the people you love. I just....it really bothers me when people miss THAT.
8-I love caffeine. And bacon. And if you bring me both without my asking, you win. You win more if you're the man I love and do that, duplicitly, and also give me sex. I'm easy to please.
9-I am loyal.
10-I'm...me. I'm real. I accept my flaws, mourn them and embrace them on a regular fucking, sad basis.
11-Bottom line is, I am, without question, worth knowing. If any of you, sad, shallow, shells of humans are still following my shit...delete me. Please. You're doing yourself a favor. My awesome is too much for you to handle.
So, there is me. Tooting my own horn, slobbing my own knob and not caring if you come...me. Sadly, I've gotten back to that place. I'll crawl out of it. But in the mean time, I'm just going to feel it. because lets face it...I do that best.
Monday, May 12, 2014
Soooo...A Top 5 Shuffle...For AWESOME Times...
So...in spite of....or possibly BECAUSE of, the truly...shitastic, horrible, awesome, wonderful place things have taken a well...needed...I guess...turn to...I decided it was time for a top 5 SHUFFLE!
So here you go!
5. State of Grace-Billy Joel
4. Lightning Bolt-Pearl Jam (sadly I couldn't find a link for this video, but here's the lyrics)
3. Not the Doctor-Alanis
2. Look Away-Hootie
1. Wishlist-Pearl Jam
And I guess that's why Pandora owns me.
So here you go!
5. State of Grace-Billy Joel
4. Lightning Bolt-Pearl Jam (sadly I couldn't find a link for this video, but here's the lyrics)
3. Not the Doctor-Alanis
2. Look Away-Hootie
1. Wishlist-Pearl Jam
And I guess that's why Pandora owns me.
Tuesday, April 1, 2014
I have taken a place in life lately where I feel very...engaged, I guess, in certain aspects but in others I am more disengaged than I have ever been in anything that's ever been a part of me.
When it comes to my children, I am making choices and strides every day in an attempt to make them exemplary members of the human race. Everything I do really comes down to that one goal alone. Any of you single parents out there get that, I suppose. I look at that term, too, "single parent" very loosely. Their father is also a "single parent", though I believe he has never encompassed the requirements of that on himself. He found a replacement family. One that he believes replaces myself and everything he knew. He has never lived on his own. He's never provided for our children by himself. He may make that pathetic child support payment every month, but he's never balanced a job, being a parent, being an ex-spouse, co-parent, single man...ever. He went from his parent's home where his mother did his laundry to my house where I took on that role and after me went back to his mother's home and then into that of yet another woman that takes care of him and his children when I am not available to do so because I am focused on developing a career to support them financially in the way he did when we were married.
When it comes to my personal life, I sadly don't even have the required strength any more to be a good partner to any one. I guess that's why this thing I am doing now works. He requires nothing but mutual respect from me. That I can do. While it bothered me for a long while that he was that way, I have only come to see I am the same way. It truly saddens me at times because I would love to be so much more for him. I just can't even think about doing that right now. I try and I treat him with the utmost respect and funnily enough I have fallen in love with this man that gives me exactly the same respect. I guess, really, I don't find that sad at all. I actually find that perfect. And I hate to use that word, but us having lives and personal bullshit and respect for one another has actually been the most perfect thing I could have ever found. I love that we continue to be together and figure out our own shit individually but knowing that the other is there for anything one of us may need. How is that not the most perfect situation? Someday, we may have to address those things, but that only means we're growing and continuing to be honest with one another. I count my blessings with that man every day. I got lucky when I met him. I pray we continue to grow as individuals, as friends, as a couple. People don't get that lucky every day.
I hate my job. I want better hours, less stress. I can make the same money. It kind of pays the bills. Mostly, anyway. But I never see my kids. Not the way I believe is essential to raising them. So, I am working that out. I'll do whatever it takes to be home with them more. They need me and respectively, I need them more. Those monkeys of mine make my life worth living, which I am sure is something every parent feels. I just want the opportunity to be better for them and to allow their amazing personalities to make me better. I cannot do that with this job.
So here I am. But, you know, life has a funny way of working out.
When it comes to my children, I am making choices and strides every day in an attempt to make them exemplary members of the human race. Everything I do really comes down to that one goal alone. Any of you single parents out there get that, I suppose. I look at that term, too, "single parent" very loosely. Their father is also a "single parent", though I believe he has never encompassed the requirements of that on himself. He found a replacement family. One that he believes replaces myself and everything he knew. He has never lived on his own. He's never provided for our children by himself. He may make that pathetic child support payment every month, but he's never balanced a job, being a parent, being an ex-spouse, co-parent, single man...ever. He went from his parent's home where his mother did his laundry to my house where I took on that role and after me went back to his mother's home and then into that of yet another woman that takes care of him and his children when I am not available to do so because I am focused on developing a career to support them financially in the way he did when we were married.
When it comes to my personal life, I sadly don't even have the required strength any more to be a good partner to any one. I guess that's why this thing I am doing now works. He requires nothing but mutual respect from me. That I can do. While it bothered me for a long while that he was that way, I have only come to see I am the same way. It truly saddens me at times because I would love to be so much more for him. I just can't even think about doing that right now. I try and I treat him with the utmost respect and funnily enough I have fallen in love with this man that gives me exactly the same respect. I guess, really, I don't find that sad at all. I actually find that perfect. And I hate to use that word, but us having lives and personal bullshit and respect for one another has actually been the most perfect thing I could have ever found. I love that we continue to be together and figure out our own shit individually but knowing that the other is there for anything one of us may need. How is that not the most perfect situation? Someday, we may have to address those things, but that only means we're growing and continuing to be honest with one another. I count my blessings with that man every day. I got lucky when I met him. I pray we continue to grow as individuals, as friends, as a couple. People don't get that lucky every day.
I hate my job. I want better hours, less stress. I can make the same money. It kind of pays the bills. Mostly, anyway. But I never see my kids. Not the way I believe is essential to raising them. So, I am working that out. I'll do whatever it takes to be home with them more. They need me and respectively, I need them more. Those monkeys of mine make my life worth living, which I am sure is something every parent feels. I just want the opportunity to be better for them and to allow their amazing personalities to make me better. I cannot do that with this job.
So here I am. But, you know, life has a funny way of working out.
Tuesday, March 4, 2014
Because Sometimes, I Remind Myself Of Me...
I had an agenda for a post when I booted up my laptop tonight. Between it's reluctance to start up and everything that is annoying the ever living shit out of me tonight, I have zero desire to write about any of that. What I do know, is these are the things I am thinking right now
I can cook. Well. And without thinking about it.
I hate 50 Shades Of Grey. One of the worst examples of any writing I have had the right to read. Disgraceful. I could write a post on that alone. All I will say at this point is, if you're a fan, ponder this- how does something as CLICHE and non engaging as that crap get past a decent editor and publisher and become one of the most hyped books of the last 5 years? Talent? Non-existent there.
I have the most amazing life right now, no matter how I look at it. I am employed. I am progressing daily in my job, My superiorers recognize that. My employees recognize that. My children recognize that. The man I am with recognizes that.
I have a favorite Pearl Jam album and I don't know how TSMA would feel about it, but I love it as if it were something I wrote myself.
Where the fuck did I sit my beer (my first and last of the evening)???
How is it someone could be cursed with all the maladies I possess on a physical level? That isn't even a question. Huge tits, tiny waist, belly destroyed by having babies so quickly in succession. And feet like Sasquatch. Shopping is IMPOSSIBLE.
With having made previous posts like Shit That Reminds You Of Me, I have created an online following that berates me daily with ecards, pinterest finds and random other crap in an attempt to be published here on this rant of a journal someone in the technological world allows me to deem a blog. It's sad. I might be smug, sarcastic, humorous and find the glitter ridden silver lining of every cloud that passes, but I am NOT the person these people assume they know me to be. I find it discouraging and saddening.
Seriously. Where the fuck is my beer?
How did I ever think I loved the man I married? How does he love the woman he is with now? HOW does she love him? And how does really of that not matter when I look at the man I first realized what love was? And how does he get off so easily doing that to me without trying?
These are the things that keep me awake at night, people. These are the boring things my mind races with. Though, I suppose 'boring' is the most relative of terms. I try to look at them from a reader's perspective. They're boring. To me they're reminiscently thrilling. Some of them spark that woman I know I am. Some of them remind me of the past I wish I'd never lived. Some of them remind me why I have that past. More often than not, I am struck by the thought that I have a future and I have grown and it has all been by my own accord. And I can continue to do that, at my leisure. I have a choice. I have MANY choices. And with every day that ends, I've made them myself.
I can cook. Well. And without thinking about it.
I hate 50 Shades Of Grey. One of the worst examples of any writing I have had the right to read. Disgraceful. I could write a post on that alone. All I will say at this point is, if you're a fan, ponder this- how does something as CLICHE and non engaging as that crap get past a decent editor and publisher and become one of the most hyped books of the last 5 years? Talent? Non-existent there.
I have the most amazing life right now, no matter how I look at it. I am employed. I am progressing daily in my job, My superiorers recognize that. My employees recognize that. My children recognize that. The man I am with recognizes that.
I have a favorite Pearl Jam album and I don't know how TSMA would feel about it, but I love it as if it were something I wrote myself.
Where the fuck did I sit my beer (my first and last of the evening)???
How is it someone could be cursed with all the maladies I possess on a physical level? That isn't even a question. Huge tits, tiny waist, belly destroyed by having babies so quickly in succession. And feet like Sasquatch. Shopping is IMPOSSIBLE.
With having made previous posts like Shit That Reminds You Of Me, I have created an online following that berates me daily with ecards, pinterest finds and random other crap in an attempt to be published here on this rant of a journal someone in the technological world allows me to deem a blog. It's sad. I might be smug, sarcastic, humorous and find the glitter ridden silver lining of every cloud that passes, but I am NOT the person these people assume they know me to be. I find it discouraging and saddening.
Seriously. Where the fuck is my beer?
How did I ever think I loved the man I married? How does he love the woman he is with now? HOW does she love him? And how does really of that not matter when I look at the man I first realized what love was? And how does he get off so easily doing that to me without trying?
These are the things that keep me awake at night, people. These are the boring things my mind races with. Though, I suppose 'boring' is the most relative of terms. I try to look at them from a reader's perspective. They're boring. To me they're reminiscently thrilling. Some of them spark that woman I know I am. Some of them remind me of the past I wish I'd never lived. Some of them remind me why I have that past. More often than not, I am struck by the thought that I have a future and I have grown and it has all been by my own accord. And I can continue to do that, at my leisure. I have a choice. I have MANY choices. And with every day that ends, I've made them myself.
Tuesday, February 4, 2014
remembering SCEAN...
When my dad was alive I talked to him almost every day. Sometimes multiple times a day, should my friends do something ridiculously stupid, my professor say something ridiculously stupid, I do something ridiculously stupid, my kids do something ridiculously cute, or some annual bullshit occur that he and I seemed to be the only people in existence that saw some sort of stupidity in. Once he died, I called his voicemail every 23 minutes or so, just to hear his voice on the message. In the months and years following his death, I would call to hear his voice and leave a message when one of the kids did something I knew he would be elated to be a part of. I called and left messages when I knew he would be elated to hear I took a stand in my life and made choices I knew he would either be proud of or, in some occasions, saddened by. As the years passed, I would call only at the times that occurred where he and I had shared a private, personal love or hatred of something. These were annual things...conversations we had, almost scripted, every year...they went something like this...
The first snow
"Dad. It's fucking snowing."
Bags are already packed.
"Where are we going this year?"
Aruba, Jamaica, oooooh I wanna take you...
"What about Bermuda or the Bahamas?"
Wherever you want, KB.
"Dad. I HATE the fucking snow. I hate it. Can we leave today? Please?"
Yep. You and me, honey. Let's leave.
"I love you, daddy."
I know, baby.
"Just a box on a bridge, like Skink."
Box on a bridge, KB.
Or when it got really hot
"Dad. It's fucking HOT out there. Like, if I had balls, I'd have serious swamp ass kind of HOT."
You're my daughter. So. Completely. My daughter.
"I don't know what the means. I think my daughter won't survive this heat. Should I take her to the emergency room? What if her heart stops? What if she is MY daughter and she can't take this heat, passes out, and her heart quits working???"
For Cry-yi, KB, she isn't a broken baby
"Nooooo, but her heart is, Dad. She is my daughter and I am yours. We were, sad as it is, born with broken hearts."
......
.....
"Dad, do you think that is why you and me and people like us are here? To live our lives to heal our already broken hearts? If that's the case then why has He made my life so. Fucking. Heartbreaking.?"
You're more of train wreck than I am, sometimes.
"Fuck you, too!"
Honey, those questions are ones you know I can't answer. What I know is you were given to me and you were the best gift I ever received. You make my life worth living.
"I know, Daddy. I'm a parent now, too."
Or when it was New Year's Eve, every year, from the time I was old enough to NOT spend it with my parents
Happy New Year, KB! What are you doing?
>me, doing some underage or illegal activity< "Oh, not much! Just...eating some pizza! Happy New Years, Daddy!"
You know you're the first person I wish a happy new year to every year?
"I know, Dad."
You've been my first wish for a good year for >15, 16, 17, 18, 19....< years. Since the very first one we had! You're my favorite part of the year."
"Dad, it's really loud here...I love you, too! Goodnight!"
I look at those conversations now and the flaws that we had and I know he was the most influential person in my life. I love that I can remember those things. I wonder, sometimes, if my brother and sister have memories like that with him. I hope they do.
The first snow
"Dad. It's fucking snowing."
Bags are already packed.
"Where are we going this year?"
Aruba, Jamaica, oooooh I wanna take you...
"What about Bermuda or the Bahamas?"
Wherever you want, KB.
"Dad. I HATE the fucking snow. I hate it. Can we leave today? Please?"
Yep. You and me, honey. Let's leave.
"I love you, daddy."
I know, baby.
"Just a box on a bridge, like Skink."
Box on a bridge, KB.
Or when it got really hot
"Dad. It's fucking HOT out there. Like, if I had balls, I'd have serious swamp ass kind of HOT."
You're my daughter. So. Completely. My daughter.
"I don't know what the means. I think my daughter won't survive this heat. Should I take her to the emergency room? What if her heart stops? What if she is MY daughter and she can't take this heat, passes out, and her heart quits working???"
For Cry-yi, KB, she isn't a broken baby
"Nooooo, but her heart is, Dad. She is my daughter and I am yours. We were, sad as it is, born with broken hearts."
......
.....
"Dad, do you think that is why you and me and people like us are here? To live our lives to heal our already broken hearts? If that's the case then why has He made my life so. Fucking. Heartbreaking.?"
You're more of train wreck than I am, sometimes.
"Fuck you, too!"
Honey, those questions are ones you know I can't answer. What I know is you were given to me and you were the best gift I ever received. You make my life worth living.
"I know, Daddy. I'm a parent now, too."
Or when it was New Year's Eve, every year, from the time I was old enough to NOT spend it with my parents
Happy New Year, KB! What are you doing?
>me, doing some underage or illegal activity< "Oh, not much! Just...eating some pizza! Happy New Years, Daddy!"
You know you're the first person I wish a happy new year to every year?
"I know, Dad."
You've been my first wish for a good year for >15, 16, 17, 18, 19....< years. Since the very first one we had! You're my favorite part of the year."
"Dad, it's really loud here...I love you, too! Goodnight!"
I look at those conversations now and the flaws that we had and I know he was the most influential person in my life. I love that I can remember those things. I wonder, sometimes, if my brother and sister have memories like that with him. I hope they do.
Monday, February 3, 2014
Sooooooo....I'm annoyed with life. Go Figure.
When girls are young they dream about Prince Charming and romance and love and being romanced. They watch Disney movies and think about those stories being their life one day. They want those things, And then I think those people end up married to...freakishly...odd men that molest dogs for fun or they marry men under the auspice of believing they will miraculously change and become the Prince Charming they always wanted. I was NEVER that little girl. I wanted to work on cars, Then I wanted to be a neuro surgeon. Then I decided I wasn't smart enough to do that and thought cardiology would be much more suiting. Then I realized how intricate that was and knew I was never smart enough for that, but still wanted to be a doctor and thought, well, I can deliver babies. Then I realized doing that meant that sometimes babies die and there was no way my heart could ever be in it. So I gave up on college and a career and figured I would just make money out of thin air, live in a kick ass apartment downtown, date men that wined and dined me because I would be worth it and that was how I would live my life...my 20's, my 30's, my 40's...shit, I would be hot enough to make a living off that like I was Holly Golightly. And then I think I just gave up. I met a man I loved. He made me laugh, so hard, until I cried and there was no one that made me do that. He was occasionally romantic and I expected more from him than what he gave me in that aspect. It wasn't really until we were married and had 3 kids that I remembered I was going to be somebody special for someone. I was going to be the woman men fell for, not because of anything other than my brain, mind you. I was SMART. I had drive. I was something to reckon with.
I look at my life now and in my tender 29 years I see all the mistakes I made, I see them in a glaring light. There was no way I was ever going to be anything more than what I am right now. Which, is...I don't even know. Well, from an outside perspective I suppose I am a (nearly) 30 year old mother of 3 that has loved more deeply than any woman my age should, I have felt pain and suffering and loneliness just as deep and I have persevered. I guess that's what people see, only because a select few have told me as much. What I see is different. I see a girl that had dreams and goals and knew the life she would lead when she became a woman. I saw an independent-needs-no-one-because-she-is-THE-ACTUAL-SHIT kind of female. And then I sadly ended up being me. I'm ridiculously insecure. I so base my beliefs in who I am off of those that shouldn't ever have a right to judge me. I fear everything I feel. I have panic attacks when I feel anything that others might find..."too intense". I spend too much time focusing on who I can be for the people I know than I do focusing on who I actually am. I, my friends, though I hate to admit it, am a walking, talking train wreck of an individual.
I think my one and only saving grace is that I know this about myself. And I want bigger and better things. I want to believe in me the way I once did. I want to be that independent person. I spoke to my ex husband tonight and I had a plan in place for what I wanted to tell him and how I wanted to deliver the things I was saying and instead I listened to him berate me and do so with things that weren't in any way relevant and also with things that were just him rehashing a past we had that obviously didn't work for either of us. Instead of standing up to him with all the things I know I could, I let him tear me apart and tried very hard not to cry while I was on the phone with him.
I guess I really don't have a point here. If I were going to try and find one, though, I think it would be that I pray, through all of this, that I raise a daughter that is 400 times the woman I am and is exactly the woman I always wanted to be. I pray that I raise my 2 sons to be more than their father could ever imagine being for a woman. I pray that I raise my children to be all the things I ever wanted and for them to know they have a voice and they have a choice and they have opportunities. I never knew I had those things. I settled for what was because I didn't accept me as the awesome person I am.
They will be better. That is the goal, though, right? We reproduce knowing the next generation WILL be better than we were...because that IS the natural progression of things, without ANY influences, right?
In any event, someday I will find my place in this world. I will live as the person I know I am and more importantly, someone will love me for doing just that.
....and I think that's a fair assessment of what we all want at the end of the day and what most of us deserve. We all need to know we're valued in someone's life. And I'm a mom. I know what that alone gives me and gives them. What I guess I struggle with is, quite literally, EVERTHING outside being Mom. I have value beyond that. I am a person because of that, but also, without that.
Some might find that terrible. I think it's completely normal. I know it is. Because, why do so many people get married due to the fact that they had sex and are now going to be parents? Any why do so many people STAY married, due to the fact that they have kids? Kids are our reason to breathe. Parents know this. But we are people, too.
Anyway, those are my thoughts right now. As per the norm, love them or hate them. But that's how I feel right now.
I look at my life now and in my tender 29 years I see all the mistakes I made, I see them in a glaring light. There was no way I was ever going to be anything more than what I am right now. Which, is...I don't even know. Well, from an outside perspective I suppose I am a (nearly) 30 year old mother of 3 that has loved more deeply than any woman my age should, I have felt pain and suffering and loneliness just as deep and I have persevered. I guess that's what people see, only because a select few have told me as much. What I see is different. I see a girl that had dreams and goals and knew the life she would lead when she became a woman. I saw an independent-needs-no-one-because-she-is-THE-ACTUAL-SHIT kind of female. And then I sadly ended up being me. I'm ridiculously insecure. I so base my beliefs in who I am off of those that shouldn't ever have a right to judge me. I fear everything I feel. I have panic attacks when I feel anything that others might find..."too intense". I spend too much time focusing on who I can be for the people I know than I do focusing on who I actually am. I, my friends, though I hate to admit it, am a walking, talking train wreck of an individual.
I think my one and only saving grace is that I know this about myself. And I want bigger and better things. I want to believe in me the way I once did. I want to be that independent person. I spoke to my ex husband tonight and I had a plan in place for what I wanted to tell him and how I wanted to deliver the things I was saying and instead I listened to him berate me and do so with things that weren't in any way relevant and also with things that were just him rehashing a past we had that obviously didn't work for either of us. Instead of standing up to him with all the things I know I could, I let him tear me apart and tried very hard not to cry while I was on the phone with him.
I guess I really don't have a point here. If I were going to try and find one, though, I think it would be that I pray, through all of this, that I raise a daughter that is 400 times the woman I am and is exactly the woman I always wanted to be. I pray that I raise my 2 sons to be more than their father could ever imagine being for a woman. I pray that I raise my children to be all the things I ever wanted and for them to know they have a voice and they have a choice and they have opportunities. I never knew I had those things. I settled for what was because I didn't accept me as the awesome person I am.
They will be better. That is the goal, though, right? We reproduce knowing the next generation WILL be better than we were...because that IS the natural progression of things, without ANY influences, right?
In any event, someday I will find my place in this world. I will live as the person I know I am and more importantly, someone will love me for doing just that.
....and I think that's a fair assessment of what we all want at the end of the day and what most of us deserve. We all need to know we're valued in someone's life. And I'm a mom. I know what that alone gives me and gives them. What I guess I struggle with is, quite literally, EVERTHING outside being Mom. I have value beyond that. I am a person because of that, but also, without that.
Some might find that terrible. I think it's completely normal. I know it is. Because, why do so many people get married due to the fact that they had sex and are now going to be parents? Any why do so many people STAY married, due to the fact that they have kids? Kids are our reason to breathe. Parents know this. But we are people, too.
Anyway, those are my thoughts right now. As per the norm, love them or hate them. But that's how I feel right now.
Wednesday, January 15, 2014
Shit that reminds you of ME! Part Deaux.
And so the time has come for another edition of, "Shit that reminds you of ME!"
TWO of you lovely people posted this to my wall on the same day. I turn 30 this August-start saving your pennies!
'Nuff said.
Who are we kidding. The only exercise I do while watching anything is the bicep curls to lift the bottle to my mouth.
I LOVE this shirt...except that very last word that isn't correctly written... "alot" is TWO MOTHER FUCKING WORDS!
Now that isn't true. I usually have done that in the shower BEFORE I even get to my coffee.
True story.
Yes...yes we are.
What can I say?! I have fabulous tits.
Definitely fit the bill on that one...
YEP.
Again, my birthday is in August. Plan accordingly.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)