Finally, an angry rant...

There are times that I don't want to write just light, breezy, inconsequential stuff. And I guess I don't really, I mean I don't think you could call this a necessarily "happy" or "fun" blog. But there's still always part of me that holds back. I'm not sure so much if it's fear of you or fear of myself.

There were certain things, actually a lot of things, that my mother would tell me not to tell people, or not speak up about. She did it to protect me in a way, I think, but at the time it came across to me as shame or embarrassment. All the years of self-help kind of stuff we went through to not keep our feelings bottled up, but then I was expected to go back to that. For my mom, it seemed more as what she thought was socially acceptable. You don't want anyone to feel responsible for what you've gone through, feel obligated to empathize. You don't want to be one of those people who says too much too soon. Maybe she just didn't want me to keep wearing my heart on my sleeve, there for anyone to take and use as they wished. And in a way, I understand. But in a way, I've never been that great at keeping my feelings and experiences to myself. Yes, there have been times when sharing has hurt me even more by the response I got - but there are also times that I felt like I was getting this poison out of my system and along the way, finding others who understood.

Christ, people. There are so many of us who have been abused, had rotten childhoods, fucked up relationships, etc. And while so many of us want to pass it off as being so incredibly strong, saying "So what? I got over it - you should too" - can't you see that this shit is still there inside? Can't you see that it affects all of your personal relationships, even if you don't realize it now? I'm tired of being told I'm just too sensitive. I'm tired of people laughing and turning away because they don't want to feel. I'm tired of the belief that being emotional is a character flaw. I'm tired of keeping it all inside because of what people think, or what I think they'll think.

Wow, I don't know what's gotten into me. It's like I want to fight for something, but I just don't know what. Already I feel apologetic and like I'll regret that I've revealed my weaknesses here. But right now, I guess I don't fucking care.

One thing that's really bothered me for a long time is when people take rape and incest and violence against women, or really anyone - so lightly, so jokingly. I don't consider myself that easily offended or above "off-color" kinds of humor, but I guess for me, I just don't think that shit is funny. And it amazes me how many people think it is. I can only imagine that nothing similar has ever happened to them or someone they've cared about, or it has and it's a really fucked up way of dealing with it. I can't believe that in some of these blogs I've read, no one ever fucking calls them out on it. Not even me. They can pass it off as just writing fiction or being sarcastic, but still. What's the most appalling, to me, is the women who seem to turn their backs on other women. You're a fucking woman, and you want to play off rape as something enjoyable? Do you realize how much that is just spitting in the face of someone who's actually gone through it? Do you think you're impressing all of your male chauvinist readers? Fucking christ, if I read one more blog where a woman says something along the lines of "I wanna be brutally raped - LOL" I'm gonna fucking puke.

And I know, free speech and all that. And I know, I don't have to read it. And I know, I'm probably taking this too much to heart when it may not be intended that way. But fuck if it doesn't make me a little more sickened every time that it seems everyone has become so desensitized.

Brimful of Asha

You know what? I love the smell of hot toner in the morning. Really. There's something comforting about the smell of a nice, hot, 20 page fax coming in. Mmm. So... office-y. Almost as nice as the smell of fresh laundry right out of the dryer.

So yeah, pretty much feeling better than yesterday.

Spent some time on the couch yesterday lying on my left side to try to take the pressure off of the right side of my sinuses - I think that's why I was getting dizzy. The cat curled up with me on the blanket and purred and then the boyfriend made a light, delicious dinner for us and we watched some Family Guy reruns. So really, I can't complain.

Wait a minute, I don't know what to do when I'm not complaining. No wonder I'm having a case of writer's block.

More later....

p.s. Does anyone remember the song that's the title of this post? It really gets stuck in your head. "Everybody needs a bosom for a pillow..."

Lost Cause

Mmrrrmmphhh.
I went to bed feeling dizzy and nauseous. I woke up feeling dizzy and nauseous. Just because I've got a nice boss doesn't mean I should go home when he gets back. I'm saying that mostly for your benefit. I'm trying to tell myself to be a good girl but given the choice it seems I never do what's right. Bleh. Tuesdays always seem to suck. Sorry, I've got nothing too good to say right now.

Dirty Barbies

In fifth grade, my friend and I felt we were perhaps a little too old to be playing Barbies. Well, that didn't exactly stop us. We weren't too old to play "dirty Barbies" after all! We just had to keep it hush-hush and make sure her little brother (tattletale) left us alone.

I don't know if you're familiar with Barbie and the Rockers? Umm, hello? They each came with a cassette tape and everything. Well, one of the members of Barbie's band was Derek, who I thought was way cooler than Ken (which I never had). He sure got a lot of action, being that there was usually about a 6/1 or more ratio of ladies to gents.

But, he was kind of a jerk about it.

I'd bring Derek over to my friend's house, where he'd be unimpressed with her Barbie's hotel. He just wanted to drive her corvette and make-out. At times, he'd request that she wore something a little sexier than her full-length gowns. He'd try running his outstretched hand through her hair, but ended up getting it caught and pulling a blond snarl out. Smooth. Then he'd clumsily try to pull her clothes off and would grin at her firm breasts, rubbing his muscular body squeakily back and forth against hers. "Sex" was pretty awkward, given Derek's pemananent briefs and Barbie's tendency to not open her legs, but you know - we managed. Afterwards, he'd use such cliched phrases as "Wow, baby - you're the best." or "Really, I'll call ya..." as he raised his arm in a stiff waving gesture, the arrogant smile still plastered on his face. One time Barbie got pissed at his quick exit and tried something to lure him back.
"You can't go. I'm pregnant."
"What? There's no way you can know that yet." (that was me being a smartass)
"Yuh-huh!" (that was my friend, being insistent)
"Nuh-uh!"
"You told me you were on the pill!" (I must've heard this somewhere before)
"Oh right. Nevermind. I'll take my pill and I won't be pregnant anymore."
"I don't think that's how it works, but fine."
Sigh.
Sigh.

We didn't feel like playing anymore after that.

I have a coupon for that

Waiting in line
at the grocery store
I'm shy, so
I'm looking down and
I can't help
just staring
at their butts
inquisitively...
Uh-oh,
you caught me

That's SO 8th grade, man

So the boss surprised me the other day by asking if I had heard of "the shocker". No no, I didn't take his hand like so and show him. I just turned slightly red and asked if that was a trick question. Really, he just learned about this last weekend, and thank God somebody already explained the gesture to him. "I didn't know - I always thought it was a gang sign!" I guess he figures if it's something silly and immature, I must know about it, and well - that's true for the most part. I'm glad all I had to do was snicker and cover my face to avoid much further discussion.

Do you speak nerdish too?

I look at my stats and I see you looked at your stats and saw me hanging out and then you came over to see what the fuss was all about. Well, it was just little old me! I don't like to keep bookmarks on one of the computers that I use and I'm just wacky so I go to your blog through my blog and clickety-clickety-click and then you think holy crappers, that's a lot of referrals from that one site, but it's all that same *%$#^*% person. Geez, that girl must be really obsessive-compulsive or just like, has a thing for me or something.

And you're right!

Old Blogging Grounds

Wow. Yeah. That was some time well spent there changing the font colors 14 times on the old template, then going through all the different pre-made templates and not liking any of them. Whew. Yeah. And for those of you who are old school, this is just the same ol template I used in the beginning. Yeah, good times and excitement.
That was dumb.
How come we always end up having the litterbox in the same room as the computer? The smell of cat poop is really stifling my creativity.



(I can't even make a proper caption for this cat... and doesn't she look like she needs one?)

They don't call them samoas anymore?

So I ordered some Girl Scout cookies. Since I didn't know when they'd arrive, I didn't happen to have the cash on me at the time when the girl's mom brought them in to work. No problem, they take checks. As I thumbed through my purse, I noticed that I had the old checkbook from an account I cancelled as well as my current checkbook. And I thought - how shitty would that be? To purposely write a check to a freakin Girl Scout when you know it would bounce? I wonder if anyone has bounced a check for Girl Scout cookies? And I started thinking - I wonder if they would deal with that at the corporate level? And then I thought, well I would hope so, what're they gonna do - make the girlscout pay? I start imagining:

(Troop leader approaches with a voided check, thrusts it in the scout's face)
"Well Jenny, do you know what insufficient funds means?"
"What? Umm, no?"
"Well it means that I'm going to have to take back that patch you earned for selling 100 boxes. Ohhh and you were so close, too..."
"But... but..."
"Nope, that's the rules. I guess you'll know better next year."

I'm not

I'm not like you
I wish I had that
something you have
that makes everyone
(including me)
fall for you so easily

Another dick in the wall

Dude. What is up with the Wall? (Ahem, you know what I mean - it rhymes with Ballgreens?) The harshly blaring lights, unmarked merchandise and zombielike staff aren't enough?

It seems like every time I go, something weird and/or mildly irritating happens. And I'm not even talking about the times that they lost or didn't have my prescription, I mean - that's just expected as part of the fun, right?

>There are the times when the lady at the pharmacy pick-up counter looks like she's gonna blow your fucking head off as she asks you if you have any questions for the pharmacist, which you politely say you don't, even if somehow you did. Or the times when you spell your last name three times and she just starts sighing loudly and rummaging through all the little alphabetized buckets, throwing prescriptions to and fro in her frenzy.

>Or the times when you're unfortunate enough to have to go down the aisle with the feminine products, which inevitably will be in the process of being stocked by multiple gawking male employees who won't just politely get out of your way. "So yeah man, huh huh she was totally wasted and passed out in the back of my car, and... OH! CAN I HELP YOU FIND ANYTHING, MAAM?" in the way that's just completely for the other guy's amusement. I shake my head and turn around, pretending to have come down the wrong aisle. I can just picture their little snickers as I walk away... "Damn dude, looked like she needed some super absorbancy, huh huh!"

>Or the time that I waited in line at the pharmacy checkout for what felt like an eternity behind this greasy guy who would not stop dancing this little jig, then annnounced when it was his turn at the counter "YES! I am picking up some OINTMENT!"

>Or the times that I run into this guy I went to school with who works there, who always tells me he dreams of someday "burning this fucking place down, I swear I'll fucking do it, I fucking hate this this place. Sorry, I gotta go hide the clearance stuff before people try to buy it."

Okay, so the last couple times I had to go for a prescription, I figured I'd use the "convenient drive-thru service" to possibly avoid the craziness. No such luck. I'm almost positive that the guy they have working the drive-thru window used to work either at an oil-change place or as a bouncer. Not that that's a bad thing, he's just kinda gruff and LOUD, considering what he does. I'd say just imagine Tom Sizemore is giving you your prescriptions, but ok - he's a couple notches below that level of intensity. Still. The first time I went, I was in the second lane which has this box on a track (not like the nifty tubes at the bank) which has written all over it DO NOT CLOSE DOOR - DOOR CLOSES AUTOMATICALLY so you know, fuck if I'm gonna be the one to close it and get yelled at by this dude. So of course, the box-thingy gets stuck as it tries to go up and into the building because the door does not close automatically and so he has to tell me "YOU GOTTA SLAM THE DOOR SHUT ON THAT THING, OKAY? LET'S TRY THIS AGAIN!" and it was just a stupid embarrassing experience. Today I go and figure I'll be in the first lane and avoid the box thingy. But still, I get the same guy and he barks at me, interrupts me when I try to answer, he's like "YOU NEED TO SPEAK UP, AND SLOWER" and then later he said something that I didn't know was a joke that needed a response because HE SAID IT LIKE HE SAYS EVERYTHING ELSE. So I halfheartedly smiled and nodded, but wasn't really looking at him and he's like "ARE YOU OKAY OUT THERE, MAAM?" and I thought, you know I guess I can just be glad he didn't look at my prescription and announce into the microphone "OH I SEE - YOU ARE NOT OKAY, ARE YOU? HA HA HA" but anyway. We complete the transaction and he says "Nice car, by the way" and I almost say "Damn, dude - don't be such a fucking dick about it" but then I realize he can only see the side that isn't (still) smashed up, so I just awkwardly grumble "thanks" and chirp out.
I gotta switch pharmacies.


note: this use of "The Wall" coined by Dane Cook, as if you didn't know.
& Look, I used the word dick for two post titles in a row!

Brokedick

I know, it's the same old thing.
Something's always wrong, something's always in need of repair.
It can be rather disconcerting, it seems that whenever I take myself or my car to get checked out, I get about the same reactions:

"Hmm, that's odd..."
"When was the last time you had this checked?"
"You really shouldn't let these things go for so long."
"Woah, you see how that's over there? That should be over here."
"Rrghh, someone really screwed this on tight last time..."

Well, okay - you get the point.
But in my halfassed defense, it's not just the procrastination, it's the not having money and the shame, too.

What happens when I sleep too long

The last two mornings, I've slept in much longer than usual, but still feel exhausted. Woke up drenched in sweat, muscles stiff, feeling like I had ground my teeth away. Angry, sad and confused. Feeling out of touch with reality, like I had a mental breakdown in my sleep. Kept getting trapped in awful dreams that normally I could wake myself out of. I feel like my story is all just predictions of an awful, inevitable future. Nothing makes sense right now.

Good Stuff

(Not exactly today's turn-ons, but just read it anyway, will ya?
Oh, and here's the turn-offs post)

And now... a few things that shed light onto my otherwise miserable existence day:

• - having an irishman at home, ready for some shamrocks & shenanigans later on! (woo! jump-up jump-up and get down!)
• - or more likely, corned beef & cabbage (that's good too!)
• - having the boss gone due to "March Madness"
• - listening to Zero 7

And the following really funny and worth checking out sites that I've been meaning to give props to for some time. I think they're pretty galldarn nifty and they crack me up, so there. Do yourself a favor and go have a looksee:

• Married To The Sea (the collaborative love-child of the two below)
  
• Natalie Dee
  
• Toothpaste For Dinner

And the following blogs I've been stalking lately that are just so damn funny and intelligent, I am rendered speechless...

Gone Feral - found through Tiny Cat Pants and was hooked. Incredibly hilarious, smart and sassy - even able to make light of things like bad doctor visits and jahooby infections.
Tiny Cat Pants - she's on vacation right now, but she never ceases to amaze and impress me with her political views (that make sense, even to me!) and humor. And I never get tired of her cooter talk.

Alright alright, that's enough ass-kissing for now.

And have a happy St. Patty's day everybody!

Today's Turn-Offs

For some reason, I tend to get grouchy on Fridays. I know, what the crap? Guess I save it up during the week. Oh, and I don't have a social life that involves the usual "it's Fri-daaay-time-to-par-taaay" thang. Anyway, here are my grievances thus far, a.k.a. turn offs:

• - tummy aches
• - bitches who cut in front of me to get their gas station crappycinos
• - 404 page errors
• - page-load status insisting on being "done" when infact it is not done, it's not done at all
  
• - empty inboxes
• - toilet odors
  
• - bad local radio
• - as in, that James Blunt "you're be-ooti-fah-hull" song. I've had enough of that. You need to cram it, fuckface.
• - or that new Destiny's Child/Beyonce/whatever the fuck you are now/ song that's just whiney shlock with an offbeat kinda rhythm, sounds like a twix commercial. Oh yeah, you have no way of telling which song of theirs that is by my description, do you?
• - stupid faxes with no cover page
• - my own lame existence

Oh, and how this bulleted list shows up without the bullets, so then I gotta use dashes. That's real nice.

Read My Cookies

Deep thoughts from a fortune cookie:

Patience makes lighter what sorrow may not heal.

Good to know.
As I impatiently cry myself to sleep...

Mmm... smells like celery

Another piece of proof that I'm freaky?
Smelling his underarms really turns me on, it must be the pheromones and what-not. I like to nuzzle my nose in there, inhale deeply, and it can lead to me vigorously dry-humping him. Some people just have a good body smell. His pits smell kinda like celery, yet celery alone doesn't make me hot. Hmmm... (???)

Welcome To My Mind

Ever feel like you're just so deep inside your own head that you can't get back to reality? That you're overthinking the countless possibilites of every situation so much that you couldn't possibly answer anyone's questions in a clear and to the point way? Ever feel like you're living your life like more of a perception of yourself than your real, deep-down self? Or that you're reacting to others based on what you think they think of you, when maybe they don't even think of you like you think they do? Do you ever feel like you're just going through the motions, because that's what you're supposed to do?
I know, don't question these things...

Sneaky Chicken

Well hello there, Mrs. Bawk-Ba-Gawk! What's up? Just sittin on a beer can, lookin tasty? Alright, carry on then...

Chicken Fingers

As I've mentioned, at my former job there were a lot of... interesting folks. One was a 60-something, sort of grizzled woman who had worked there for like 40-some years (no joke). People (including her middle-aged daughter, who also worked there) gave her shit all the time - mostly because she was in a position of authority and could be rather gruff. But since I didn't work directly with her, for the most part we got along pretty well.

For a while everyone took their lunch together at these long picnic tables. It ended up that most of the time I'd be sitting directly across from her. And she'd have to comment about whatever it was I was eating, or wasn't eating. Which, you know - I guess women just do. I didn't comment on what she ate, but I'd be almost physically ill when she brought leftover chicken. It wasn't the chicken itself, mind you. I just did not want to see her eat anything with her hands.

She had these fingernails... that (partly due to working with cleaning chemicals) were less like fingernails and more like overgrown nasty toenails. Why she insisted on keeping them long, I don't know. But they were like these yellowish-brown inhuman looking talons. It made me a bit squeemish. So, as you can imagine when she brought leftover fried chicken (or any messy food) it was really... something. The fried breading would get ALL up under her nails (and with the longass nails, that was quite a bit of breading) and if she was feeling rather expressive with her gestures as she talked, you'd better watch out for those chicken fingers. Of course, when finished she'd proceed to dig out whatever collected on the underside of those talons and eat it, or just chomp on the nail itself. Who knows what all was under there!? Dude, gross. But we'd be talking, so I couldn't really look away. I couldn't look away, I tell you! And she'd ask, as crumbs and spit flew out of her mouth and barreled towards my face "You're done eating already?" And I'd quickly, politely excuse myself to retch...

But other than that, nice lady. Really.

She's My Baby*

I just remember a little chunk of the dream I had last night. It was in an old, somewhat abandoned school. Things were fine for a while, we were all watching some presentation or something in the auditorium and then all hell broke loose. I was running with this group of people. We were all trying to escape, but at every exit we came to, someone would die trying to get out, making our herd a little smaller every time. The walls and floors were shifting and we were all being thrown about by whatever force it was outside. I thought I had found another exit, but at the top of the stairs where there was an open door, were these awful growling and barking dogs with blood and drool coming out of their mouths. Someone went ahead of us and distracted (ie: got chewed on by) the dogs so we could pass through. Then it was just me and this sweet little blond haired girl, and all I wanted was to protect her. We made it into some room that was safe, and she clung to me and whispered "I love you" and I said "I love you too and I'm gonna keep you safe." And I held onto her like I was her mother. But when the aliens/monsters came for us, it was the little girl who suddenly had this power to protect us. She'd spin herself extremely fast and knock out anyone who got close. A miniature tornado, she was. Somehow all I got was a few papercuts (I don't know why) and we made it to safety.
And I swear we were not watching Resident Evil or anything like that last night!
I do have recurring dreams where I'm taking care of or protecting a little girl and I think that could be either: the little girl is me, or it's a sign that my biological clock is ticking.


*A Mazzy Star song. I miss falling asleep to that album "So Tonight That I Might See" even though the last song would usually wake me up. Still, one of my favorites from that time. But yes, I realize this title could've perhaps been used in one of my token "lesbo fantasy posts".

Mama Said

Just a couple quick happy thoughts.

Did I mention that my "not-quite in-laws" are very sweet and funny people? No wonder they've got such a damn good son.
Anyway, thought it was worth noting that my "not-quite mother-in-law" has upgraded my nickname status! Now I hear myself referred to as "The Little" replacing the former "The Little Turd" which, really - was always an affectionate term, mind you.

Oh, and I finally got a haircut this weekend, which upgraded my hair status from "frumpy" to "milfy"! Didn't think there was a difference? Eh, well apparently a few inches shorter will do the trick. Now, I know what you're thinking but really, it was meant as a compliment... even though I'm not a mom. Best not to think about that one too much.



Since I like referencing the old archives lately (I know - how cheap, huh?), here's another post about our funny moms.

Nowhere To Hide

I thought of this again today. There was a Saturday morning a few weeks ago that J had gone into work. I was sleeping in, but startled awake by a thud thud thud on the front door. After living for years in apartments, I'm not so used to having only one door between us and the outside world. And I didn't like the sound of that knock. I froze, swallowing my heart into my stomach. I laid completely still under the covers, listening for the next round of knocks. Bracing myself in the panic-mode that comes from a rude awakening. I waited, but there were no more knocks on the door and I was relieved. Nothing worth freaking out about, but it took a good hour before the anxiety subsided. I don't like unexpected visitors and mostly everyone we know will call us before coming by. It was probably just a Girl Scout or someone else taking donations, or even a neighbor just stopping by to say hello. We don't even live in a bad neighborhood where I should be afraid, but that's sort of the point. It doesn't matter what kind of neighborhood it is. I have this awful fear of being trapped inside my own home. Not just that, but it's one of my fears.
I still have these nightmares about these things that happened so long ago, and I can't deny their presence. The flashbacks of running as fast as I could to lock all the doors in the house I grew up in. Of trying desperately to push the door closed and turn the lock while someone was pushing with all their force on the other side. Or how the moment they thought of another door they could try, I'd have to hope I could reach it before they did. Trying to fight or prevent it would make them more angry, the punishment or humiliation would be worse. I remember how the two rooms in our house that had locks built into the doorknob could easily be unlocked with a straightened wire hanger. That meant that even the bathroom wasn't safe, if I had to go I would just need to try to hold it until later. And I remember the adrenaline I'd have as I'd wedge my bed or dresser in front of my bedroom door... and wait and wait and wait for them to give up and find something else to do. It was a game, to them but not me. I truly believed that they'd kill me if I told anyone. They'd say it over and over again - we'll kill you, no one will get here in time to save you. Once I attempted to call their bluff and my father's hunting rifle was found, cocked cha-chuck and pointed in my face. They thought it was funny when I cried. My fear was fueling them. I had no faith at that time that they wouldn't do it. Of course, somehow they didn't - but that came along with "Ha haa, it wasn't even loaded, stupid crybaby." I was seemingly despised, yet necessary in these games somehow. And I had wanted so badly to be included, to be good, to be fun, to not be the brunt of their amusement. Things like that continued for way too long.
Wouldn't it be something, to go back and right the wrongs that your childhood self couldn't? To fight those fights and never be scared? I had been predisposed with the perfect mentality for it then. I felt that for years I was a magnet, I just brought out the bad side of people. And now although I feel like I've worked through most of these things, paranoia has become some sort of automatic defense mechanism - holding me back from things as simple as answering a knock on the door.

A Fine Collection of Quotes from Coworkers*

• - female coworker, coming out of bathroom "Wooohh, now don't you go in there for about 35 to 45 minutes, girl. Mmm, I tell ya - I wish I could get my money back, 'cause that sausage just went right on through me!"
  


• - full-of-herself coworker telling rest of us about her date "I thought at first he said I'm pretty, because I'm so used to hearing that all the time, but no he said I'm witty and I was like that's so cool, because I really am so witty, it's just no one notices it!


• - stupid girl that only lasted for 2 weeks, referring to 911 "Okay, so they hijacked the plane with a box-cutter? I would've been like hell naw, yall ain't taking me down with no box-cutter. I wouldn'ta been scared of that shit, pleease. Pssshhh, how dumb were those fuckin hostages?"


• - meth-head mom, showing responsibility "I'll only carry a gram of meth on me if I've got my baby in the car."


• - non-smoker towards smokers break area "Goddaamn! Who left one in the ashtray? Smells like a fuckin burnt tampon up in here!"


• - overly thrifty coworker to fellow smokers "Hey, do you smoke Basics? I got a coupon for buy one get one free, I'll sell it to ya for a dollar."


• - outspoken redneck says to only black employee at the time "You know how black people just have that smell? No, no - I'm serious! Well, I think I figured it out - it's the grease they put in their hair, right?


• - same outspoken redneck to same black coworker, being honestly ignorant "Why do all black people like watermelon and fried chicken so much?"


• - black coworker to me, about outspoken redneck coworker "That ol' heifer better watch her fatass, next time she wanna talk some ignorant bullshit to me."
  


• - gay-hating female coworker upon mention of Brokeback Mountain, in seriously disgusted voice "Whatever. Why would I want to watch a couple faggies getting all... faggy?"

* an example of some classy ladies I've worked with

Immaculate Misconception #2

When I was little, I remember hearing adults use the expression "making ends meet" quite often, but I guess I didn't quite understand it.
I knew it was just an expression, but I always thought they meant "making ends-meat" like that was a type of meat. I knew it also had to do with not having money, so I figured maybe ends-meat would be all they could manage to get from the butcher. Someone would say "Oh, that's a shame about Jim losing his job, their family was already having enough trouble making ends-meat." See? Because that's all they had to eat, and it was awful to have to make dinner out of that! And what's worse than not even having ends-meat in the first place?
I'd picture these poor souls, waiting with their cupped hands outstretched, hoping to catch the "end" pieces of meat off of the butcher's table before they were thrown away. Later at home, a frustrated mother would pound away at the gristly, unsavory pieces, trying to make ends-meat for her family. The disappointed children would say "Ughh! Ends-meat again?" and so on.
It made sense to me! But I'm so glad I didn't open my mouth about it in a social situation.

Here's the first misconceptions post, dusted off from way back in the archives.

Ocean Size

It's just teasingly sunny out, it really doesn't mean it. It's waiting to fool me into thinking it's more than 32 degrees. Still, I can look out the window and imagine. Things seem better by default in the spring, plus I'll have better clothing options. As long as I don't keep getting fatter. The only good thing about my weightgain is that my breasts feel fuller, rounder... and dare I say they beg to spill forth out of my former "room to spare" bras? I find myself absentmindedly fondling my cleavage now that I have more cleavage to speak of. It's nice and warm and soft, yet firm. Yeah, I like boobs. Anyway, point is, that's the only plus of weight gain that I'm aware of. If I was like, 3 or 4 months preggers, then hey - I'd be looking pretty damn good. But I'm not.
I had weird dreams as usual over the weekend. There was this hotel, and there were different kinds of people, different parties on every floor. I was wanted by the men and the ladies, and even a tranny lurking in the bathroom that asked me if I wanted to take a bath together. I passed on that. Then I talked some nasty slutty talk to a Secret of My Success era Michael J. Fox in the elevator, trying shamelessly to get some of his action. Only part I remember, I had hiked my skirt up while lying on the floor in front of him with my hips raised. Subtle, yes. He didn't touch me, just stared at my cooch until the elevator stopped at his floor. Awesome.
I'm also having dreams that I'm supposed to work at my old job as well as my current one, and while it's nice that I'm needed by both places - I don't really fit in or do well at either and things inevitably get all fucked up. Maybe this will replace my "being back in highschool" recurring dream. Damn stupid unsexy recurring dreams.
Enough of my blargon-jargon for now.

Mine's Not a High Horse

Hmmm.... okay, so last week was odd.

And... don't you hate it when you're all mad at someone and then they do something for you, and it makes you feel so guilty for ever being mad, yet you kinda wish they hadn't?

I had done a lot more bitching in the last post, about work and stuff, but then decided to edit that out because I kinda felt guilty talking about the boss (but in the future, if I do talk about him - let's just call him "BM" for Boss-man or something. Heh.) Now I'm not sure if I'm glad I edited it or not, cause now you might not see my complete side and how frustrated and hurt I was. But basically, it was some things that he said that just made me feel really small and worthless. It doesn't help that I'm feeling like that a lot anyway, so it was just not what I had needed or deserved to hear at the time. But, as you have to do sometimes, I was just gonna let it go and not whine about it at work.

Well, on Friday when BM returned from lunch (drinks with friends), he was all "You need to cheer up, damnit!" and he had a plan. So he sets down 2 chilled premium malt beverages on my desk and tells me to go on and drink one. Ummm, is this a test? I laugh sort of nervously. I thank him for his thoughtfulness and say that I'll wait to drink them when I get home. "Oh, c'mon" he insists, giving me that don't-be-a-wuss kind of look. "Lemme tell you what, you're gonna drink that right now..." he sits and thumbs through his wallet, then throws $5 on my desk "...and then, you're gonna go up the street to the tanner and get some of that... what the fuck, those UV rays that cheer you up. You need the sunlight." I'm caught off guard and of course my natural response is to smile but shake my head "really, that's so nice of you... but I'm okay - I don't need to go right now or anything." He shakes his head "nope. I insist. You've been so crabby and depressed lately. Finish your drink, go, and then come back and drink the other one." This is all really odd to me. I feel as if I can't be a spoilsport though, and know there's no use arguing. Although, I do mention that I'm a lightweight and maybe I shouldn't drive, after I finish my lime flavored malt beverage with a slight shudder. "After one drink? That's like a beer. You're fine. Go on, go!" he orders, waving me away.

So I went. And it's true, I probably wouldn't have talked myself into going later. Unprepared and extremely pale, I just laid in the tanning bed in my bra & panties for 7 minutes. I did have sort of a buzz at that point, which made it easier to relax. I might even consider going a few more times on my own, just to get a little color and look a bit more alive - even though I had come to accept my paleness in favor of keeping my skin healthy. It didn't do a whole lot, there's just a splash of pink between my boobs and you can see the faint outline of my bra. I mostly just liked soaking up some heat, as I am one that's always cold. But still, weird.

I went back to work and thanked him, feeling a bit awkward. I don't want to sound like a brat, because I do appreciate the little niceties from BM. I know there are lots of bosses that wouldn't give the time of day for something like that. But, I'd kind of like a different kind of nicety though, like in the way of respect?
The whole thing just kind of reminded me of the newly divorced dad syndrome that I encountered as a child. He won't say he's sorry if he's made you cry, and he doesn't want to listen to what's wrong, but he will take you miniature golfing and let you pick Lucky Charms or Fruity Pebbles at the grocery store, like your mother never would.

That Joke Isn't Funny Anymore

When you laugh about people who feel so
Very lonely
Their only desire is to die
Well, I'm afraid
It doesn't make me smile
I wish I could laugh

But that joke isn't funny anymore
It's too close to home
And it's too near the bone
It's too close to home
And it's too near the bone
More than you'll ever know ...

- The Smiths


I could've had my chance to speak up. Instead I bit my tongue. Maybe there will be another chance, or maybe this will just fade into nothingness. Gotta choose my battles I suppose, and this one has an unfair advantage, not in my favor. There have been other job situations where things have gotten heated, my feelings have been hurt and I've regretted what I said in retaliation.
I have a number of issues with this situation, but I try to avoid talking about work too much here. That has a way of coming back to haunt you. In all fairness, there's been a number of niceties as well and I can't afford to lose my job. There isn't a whole lot out there right now.

And seriously, not to lash out on you because I'm down.... because I really do care about a lot of you out there. But for those who just can't stand it when I'm being serious, when I'm sad, when I'm upset... keep in mind that this is just a few pieces of me, not the entire puzzle. Things will change, my mood will change, and you can always find plenty of other stuff to read in the meantime.

How To Disappear Completely

I don't think I ever learned how to be strong. I taught myself in childish ways that have no use in the real world. But sometimes, sometimes there's only so small you can make me feel. You can only put so many words in my mouth. This smallness begins to expand til it's tearing at the seams, tearing away at me. I can be angry, I can feel violent. It doesn't make me strong that I can hold it back? I was just taught that it wasn't polite. You don't do that.
But once in a while, I have this almost tangible vision. And it's of my hand grasping the back of someone's head and the force that surprises me with how swiftly I can slam it into the wall facefirst.
But I'm not like that.
In actuality, I'd be the one slamming my own head into the wall. In actuality, I'd do something to make myself bleed before I'd hurt someone else.
In actuality, I'm the one crying and shaking once again. Acting like a child just wanting to hide, wanting to run away, but having nowhere to go and knowing the punishment would just be worse once I turned around and headed back. That's what makes me cry. This. Here. Now.

Whir

Sometimes you gotta just laugh at things. Sometimes I don't take everything (including myself) so stinkin seriously.
So, after work yesterday I was gonna get a car wash since my car's all salty, as well as still a little crunched from that incident that we shall not speak of. And I'm thinking about how silly it is that I don't get car washes more often, so like now it's a big deal or something. I even debated on whether I thought it was a good idea, if loose parts from that incident would come off, but alas it's a "touch-free" carwash. Whatever. Anyway, I already paid for it along with the gas before I went around the corner and realized I was 5th in line. Eh, whatever - I'll wait, I'm here. But things seemed to take forever especially considering that it's one of those automated car washes. In actuality I probably waited 20-25 minutes to get into the damn thing. I get up there, punch in my code and pull in. As I drove in, the lights were flashing "go" and then they stopped flashing when I got to the point where you know, you stop. Typical. The garage door in front of me closes. It usually does in the winter. Typical. I wonder after about 30 seconds why the damn thing hasn't started it's spraying already. I think I've just pulled up crooked or something. I pull up and straighten a little. Nothing. Usually it makes a noise when you're supposed to stop or have gone too far, but it didn't. The garage door behind me slams shut. Heh. Still nothing from the machine, other than a muted whirring sound like it's shutting down. Ohhkay. I look and the column that normally lights up with what part of the cycle you're in is just blinking "0". Umm, what the fuck? I back up and pull forward again, nothing. I begin to fear that I will be trapped in this carwash, that the system has gone haywire and the columns that move vertically will start moving horizontally, and a robot voice will keep ominously repeating "Default setting: crush, kill, destroy!"* I think about getting out of the car but have a feeling I'd be setting myself up for a sitcom-like situation where as soon as I step out, I'm slammed from both sides with blasts of hot soapy water. I'm not getting out. I half turn around and look through the back window at the truck waiting behind me on the other side of the door. He must see that somethings wrong, right? Or maybe he was a jerk and pressed some buttons while I was in here that fucked it all up? Well then in front of me, a little side door opens and an attendant yells "It hasn't run at all?" and then I think he probably saw me on camera backing up and pulling forward and thought what the fuck is this woman doing? He tells me to hold on and I wait in there a few more minutes. He comes back and gives me a ticket for another car wash and says sorry - he doesn't know what's wrong but it'll take some time to reboot the machine. I was just glad to get the hell out of there! Whew!
I got upgraded from a "good" wash to a "better" wash, though not "best." Yeah, that was so worth a half hour.


* love that Simpsons line!

citizen's arrest?

NervousGirl does not handle downtown situations well. Er, I don't mean my "downtown situation" - like a euphemism or something, I mean the city's downtown area, of which our office is adjacent to. I've worked closeby here before and have had a number of odd (and awful) situations come up, but seeing as how practically no one off the street comes in here, I'm a little rusty in my skills. So this dude walks in and is asking what kinda business this is, I'm not sure exactly what he's looking for, but from what he says and seeing as how most everyone who comes in is not looking for our office, I point him in the direction of the office kitty-corner to us. I wait a minute and I don't hear anything, and I didn't see him leave. So I step into the hallway and see that dude is in my boss's office (in the opposite direction), which is open and the boss is not in. He sees me and stutters "uhh uhh, this isn't uh the office you said to go to, is it?" Yeah, fucking right it's not. So I ask rather snippily what exactly does he need and direct him to the other office, who it turns out can't help him with what he asked. He was polite and everything, but I can't help feel like once again I've been duped. I could just be paranoid. It's awful to have to be a bitch and so suspicious with everyone, but you just can't trust people around here. He sure started sweating after I saw him in the hallway. I don't know if my boss's desk drawer had already been open or not, but it is now. He always has this nice silver pen that he uses that now I don't see. So when he gets back, I'll have to tell him that I unknowingly let someone wander around who may or may not have stolen something. What was I supposed to do - demand that he empty his pockets? Citizen's arrest? Then it would sound like I was just being racist, maybe he was just confused. This shit always happens to me. I'm an office assistant, folks - not a fucking security guard. I feel awful. Fuckin Fuck Fuck Shit.


Update 2/22: Boss' expensive pen is not missing. BUT apparently, last night after I left and the lady in the other office was alone - the same dude came back and brought a friend. What the fuck were they here for? She startled them as they were digging through the candy dish out front and told them to get out. No, don't feel bad like they needed to eat or some shit, they just wanted to steal whatever they could get their hands on. I don't like this. I'm not intimidating enough, even though I can unleash the crazy, but who knows what they'd have done if it was me. Don't get me wrong, I'm not so small town that this is the first time anything like this has happened. It just still pisses me off and/or freaks me out. Rrrghhh.

cat fud

Here's our snuggly little cat who has decided that the gelatinous "gravy" is the best (and all that's worth eating) part of her Friskies. And the stinkier the better.

Hello Nasty

Well... fuddruckers! I like to use that as an expression but have never had the pleasure of enjoying the above-noted restaurant. We finally checked out the Red Robin though - had never been to one before. Mmmm, so many kinds of burgers, unlimited steak fries, good stuff. According to the waitress, everything was really good but she let us know her feelings were influenced by her being sooo hungry and not having a chance to eat. How does that make you feel? I could see my mom and I were both thinking "Oh, don't worry about us honey, you go get something to eat, we'll wait" but instead we just kinda went "aww" and felt awkward. I love how employees lower their voice and get the shifty eyes, looking out for their manager and tell you about their shitty working conditions or how honestly, "I wouldn't order that. I guess some people like it, but..." and make you feel like you're in on their secret. Then when they slip you the bill, scrawled in quick sloppy penmanship on the back it says "Cant leave! 18 hrs w/no break! Pls help me! Thnx!" Alright just kidding. It was worth checking out again. Yes, I realize I was just talking about getting healthy and whatnot but the occasional greasy dinner out can still be expected, come on now.
Speaking of fast food & restaurants, we're sort of lacking around here. Well, I mean it seems like there are tons of places to eat in this area, just not many that we've found that are all that good. But then again, we're sorta picky and frugal. And ya know, there are a lot of chain restaurants that I'm surprised we don't have. There's no shortage of chain restaurants, but I always hear about these other places that we don't have, like Fuddruckers, Boston Market, White Castle, Sonic, Jack in the Box, Hardees, Checkers, etc. I'm sure there are lots more places that everyone loves that I don't even know about, but I want to know what I'm missing! Give the fatty more choices of fattery! Maybe you all who live in different areas can indulge me with how awesome or disgusting they are.
Hmm, I hadn't intended on this whole post being about food!

" "

I know, I'm Quotey-McQuotes-A-Lot lately, but I just had to share this poem that crossed my mind the other day...

I feel horrible. She doesn't
love me and I wander around
like a sewing machine
that's just finished sewing
a turd to a garbage can lid.

-Richard Brautigan

He really knows how to say it, eh?

Everything In It's Right Place

My problem is that I don't know how to completely, effectively express what I'm thinking. This, by all means should be a simple human task, though it's not. In conversation it's worse, but I see it in my writing too. I forget that you don't know my history and can't hear my internal monologue. So listening to me or reading my words is kind of like observing one side of a phone call. You can almost piece together the story, but so much is left to be explained. Without the explanation it sounds half assed and/or retarded. Eventually, it gets boring and irritating trying to make sense of it.
That's odd. I'm trying to explain how I can't explain things. Trying to write about not being able to write. So here I am. I need to clean out, repair and re-organize my head.

Billy Jack Bitch

I told you, Prince is cool. You gotta give him his props. I was gonna say something about him having good taste, but I bet someone would have to call me out on the whole assless pants incident.

From MSNBC:

By Jeannette Walls
MSNBC
Updated: 2:45 a.m. ET Feb. 16, 2006

Paris Hilton may think Prince is hot — but looks like he thinks she’s not.

The partying heiress toasted the “Purple Rain” singer in a London club this week — only to have him sneak out the back. Hilton was reportedly drinking the powerful liquor absinthe at the club Kaberet Prophecy when she got into the DJ box and announced to the crowd, “I'm celebrating my birthday and Prince is in the house, so I want to play his new single because he's hot,” according to London's Sun newspaper.

The artist, hiding under a hood, quickly headed for the exit, but Hilton danced on the table tops until 3:30 a.m.

Running On Empty

I don't think I'll have much time to write today. I wish I did. I wish I could just wallow in my own mind, shut off the outside world, try to make sense of things, write about what I'm feeling. I need that. I need a mental health day... week, month, year. I wish I could go home. I need a space where I am free to write without looking over my shoulder. And I feel so obsessive-compulsive lately, I'll get an idea in my head and waste most of my day distracting myself with it. Before I know it, the hours have passed and I have no reasonable explanation for why I haven't gotten more real work accomplished. I'll have good intentions but they ultimately lead to nowhere. Ugh, I feel like I'm losing my mind sometimes.

"...if you ask anyone in the throes of depression how he got there, to pin down the turning point, he'll never know. There is a classic moment in The Sun Also Rises when someone asks Mike Campbell how he went bankrupt, and all he can say in response is "Gradually and then suddenly." When someone asks how I lost my mind, that is all I can say too."

- Elizabeth Wurtzel

Have I Told You Lately That I Love You?

Happy Valentine's Day!
I wish I could create something beautiful and thoughtful to express how I feel. Everything seems so cliche and is too much or not enough. Hmm, so many thoughts just swimming around in my silly lil' head, trying to find a way out. Maybe it's not so much that we have to have this one day to express how we feel, it's in the little day to day things when you've been together this long...
It's those knowing looks we share when we're about to say the same thing.
It's the way my favorite shows seem funnier when he's there watching them with me.
It's those lazy weekend mornings when he makes us a huge, greasy, yummy breakfast.
It's the little jokes that only the two of us would think are funny.
It's his way of cheering me up time and time again.
It's the way he listens and understands.
It's the way he can find my OCD more humorous than disturbing. (uhh... right, honey?)
It's the way we can just be ourselves together.
It's singing "Endless Love" "I've Had the Time of My Life" "Always" and other sappy duets together for our own amusement with Karaoke Revolution Party.

It's... a lot more things that make me feel special and happy that we're together. Like I said, I can't quite express it how I want to. I feel myself slipping into the cliche, corny, sickeningly sweet realm, so maybe some things are best saved for later.

I hope you all have a great day and spread the love and all that good stuff...
xoxoxo

Bad Dream

Had some crazy dreams last night. Do you feel pain in your dreams? Because sometimes I swear I do. I had gone with some people I didn't know to someone's house that I didn't know. The details are vague. I was wearing a dress. These people had two dogs that were sniffing me. The bigger dog got up under my dress and growled and bit into my ass. I was screaming. I reached back and was trying to pull his extremely strong jaws apart, it wasn't working. I could feel it, I swear. No one could help me. It sucked. When I woke up and told J about this, he said that although that does sound like something he would do, he was not biting my ass while I was asleep.

Any Way You Want It

Hey, I didn't forget about the poll results. You people are so damn nice to me when I shamelessly ask for validation. Thanks for being participators and not "haters." Really, it was more about finding out what things you like seeing here rather than me wanting to change the blog. But I really appreciate the "I'm Ok, You're Ok" kind of responses and will be keeping this blog as a virtual smorgasbord of posts so there's a little somethin for everyone, eh?
So... the most votes so far were for "more pictures" just as much as "I dunno... surprise me." So, uhhh great. I didn't think you were all gonna call my bluff like that! Guess I need to work on getting together some decent pictures. Will I have to make another poll to find out what kind of pictures you want to see? I've taken lots of bad pics of myself, and there's only so much of my big nose and goofy looks that I can handle having up on this here bloggy thang. We'll see what I can come up with.
Anyways, the sun is shining even though it's cold, this blog has almost reached 10,000 hits, and I even got a surprise bag of pretzels from my boss! Not a bad little afternoon. I'm pretty happy. Although not quite as happy as this lady.

I Can't Tell You Why

Hmmm, rejection. Lovely topic with V-day coming up, eh? Let's go back.
There was this guy that I had a... thing with for a little while. It seemed like some good times, but when I look back I wonder if it was only me that had a good time. I thought he was beautiful, and he thought his best friend's girlfriend was beautiful. Only I didn't know it at the time, when I was staying there. We smoked a lot of good dope together and listened to K's Choice, Sublime and The Verve Pipe. I don't remember a whole lot else. There was a time though, that I was riding in the passenger's seat of his car that I got the feeling he wasn't liking me too much anymore. Because I leaned forward to pick something up, and he slammed on the brakes... for no reason other than for me to hit my head on the glovebox. He wasn't the type that was just being funny either. That didn't bode well, but I didn't say anything. Thanksgiving was around that time and I reluctantly went with my mom up north for the weekend. Most of the weekend consisted of me being all giddy with my cousin, telling her how I met this great guy who was so cute and all that.

When I came back, all emotion on his part was gone. He was firm, yet vague about it being over. I gathered up the things I had left there and at the time felt very heartbroken (although I know it seems silly with the short amount of time we were together) at the whole "Hey, so good to see ya!" "Hey, go away" kind of reunion we had. In a lame attempt to win him back or something, I tried to make a move. I don't know, out of desperation I suppose? I remember leaning over him, he was sitting propped up in bed and I tried to kiss him. Bad idea. His hand came up and his fingertips created a shield between my face and his as he gently but firmly pushed me backwards by my face with disgust. Let me tell you, that'll take you down a couple notches. I probably deserved it, especially by karmic standards, but it still hurt (emotionally).

It sucks enough being rejected by someone you built up in your mind but didn't get a chance to know that well. But it also really sucks to be rejected by someone that once looked at you like you were special and then their demeanor changes to one of repulsion. It's hard to believe that that was probably like 8 years ago. Don't worry, I won't spend too much time regurgitating the past here. Still a little "ouch" lingers on, though. And I'm still mad that I never got my Prince hits 3 CD set back because he loaned it to his best friend's girlfriend without my permission! Ah, well - you win some (like my sweetie now), you lose some. Or something.

Uptown

Hey! We did something this weekend! Yeah, out of the house even! Two of our friends and a "not so much a friend as an acquaintance by association, who would be alright if he didn't feel inclined to be a jerk most of the time" were celebrating birthdays. We ended up going to one of the nicer bars downtown. Now some people love the "downtown" because they enjoy the delicate mix of hoity toity too-good-for-you fancy with rundown decrepit and poverty stricken areas. But hey, that's what most "downtown" areas are like, right? Well, it's not all bad really. I can see how some of it has it's charm. I suppose we're getting more and more snooty in our own little way by being in the suburbs now. Although compared to a lot of suburbanites, we probably seem like riffraff. It just depends if you want to be a big fish in a small pond or whatever, I guess. Anyway. All I know is, downtown driving and parking sucks so we kind of avoid it. Plus we both hung out there enough in our coffee shop days.
Anyways, that was quite a build up for not much of a story. The big thing is, NervousGirl got a very enjoyable buzz from a Long Island Iced Tea! Oh wow, I know - one whole drink! But as I've discussed before, I'm not much of a drinker. I would like to be, but it usually doesn't turn out so well. So anyways, it was a very good time and probably less than halfway through my drink I stopped being so self-conscious and actually laughed and talked to people. The only hard part was the not smoking. Ughhh. I wanted to SO BAD... it seemed like everyone else was. But when I smoked it seemed like I was a loner. Wouldn't you know it, smoking is cool, just apparently when I'm not doing it. Damn.

Already There

It was a pretty darn good weekend, we'll get to that soon.

But today. Today is not so good. Not feeling too great about today. I'm feeling pukey, crampy and extemely sensitive. My emotions are easily amplified. I'll have to watch it. I've already proven myself to be unprofessional in the past. Don't ever let them see you cry. Well, it's too late for that.
How come there are these certain types of women, that no matter what a piece of shit employee they are, manage to get the respect of everyone? Nobody would talk to them the way they talk to me and I gotta think it's because they sense my weakness but do not sense the wool being pulled over their eyes by these bitches. I can't play the role of someone else very well, and I have tried. How come it's okay for some women to talk and act in a way that to me seems extremely bitchy, yet it's just accepted like some little quirk? Then for me, if I do something similar, it's not alright, it's not funny, it's not who they want me to be. Because they have an image of what I am and they will tell me who I am. I'm the one who needs everyone else's advice. I'm the one that's so weird. I'm the one that is so quiet. I'm the one who is such a doormat. I'm the one who's too sensitive. I'm the one who listens to problems and actually cares about them, but can't keep anyone's attention when it comes to my own. I'm the one that needs to keep her chin up. It feels like when I try to change that there are always people there shaking their heads. Nope, sorry - it's too late, we've already classified you and we cannot remove you from this particular category. I've gotta stop telling people I work with anything about my outside life. Create a fake life just to tell them about. Or work at a large company where I can just blend in or go by unnoticed. I don't know what this is all about. I'm not explaining this very well. I guess I just think that since just about every job I've had I've started off liking, caring about what I do there, wanting to make things better. And every time that wears off and I seem to be filled with dread at the idea of it and when I leave I never want to look back. I gotta think that despite some of the shitty jobs I've had, the problem is with me. It's all a part of a bigger problem with me. I can't say I'm all negative. I certainly look for the good in people, even in people that I should know don't really have it. But with my life it's so hard to look at it with the same optimism, all I see is what's negative, what isn't there, what I did wrong, what I don't have, and what I won't have.
I didn't mean for it to all come out like this. What a way to start the week. I'll write something else soon but I had to get this out.

Home

I'm gonna keep the poll below going, thanks to those who've voted so far!
Today is just kind of gray. I feel like I could go off into a thing about sadness and loneliness, blah blah blah, but really I think I'm just too tired. Maybe if I got more sleep on a regular basis I'd feel a little better, ya know? Yes, what a novel idea. I'm just so very tired. It's drafty in here as usual and I just wish I could be at home, curling up with a blankey and my cat in front of the TV.
I love the mid-morning quiet when I'm at home. I love being there to see the way the sunlight filters in to the bedroom. I love the sound it makes when the furnace is firing up, like a mini jet engine. I love the steady hum of clothes tumbling in the dryer. I love just having a dryer. I love folding and putting away fresh warm laundry. I love laying in bed on my stomach with no need to get up. I love rolling over and changing positions to an even more comfy postition. I love having a pantry full of lots of soup and snacks. I love having all of our favorite TV shows recorded and waiting on the DVR box. I love being there when he comes home for lunch. I love just being there.
I better stop now before I get my mind too set on going home, 'cause there's work to be done around here. But I'm so very sleepy.

How Do U Want It?

Oh geez, a poll! What have we come to here? Well, I'd like some feedback and thought this would be an easy enough, anonymous way for you to let me know whatcha think, ya dig? I suppose if there's an option you'd like to choose that isn't listed here, then you might wanna leave it in a comment or email. Thanks to those who participate!

What would you like to see more of on Nervous Thoughts?

More pictures More lighthearted posts, less about your problems More angry rants More true stories of dating experiences More sex-related posts More sex-related posts (but only if they are hetero-oriented) More fantasy/fiction type of stuff More about inebriation I dunno... surprise me

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So Fresh, So Clean

Picking out shampoo, conditioner, bodywash, lotion, etc. has always been important to me. I like smells. Well, good smells. I hate getting stuck with some sickeningly sweet or medicinal smelling product cause then I'll still feel obligated to use it. Problem is, I'm not so good at making decisions. So I've been known to spend ridiculous amounts of time at Target smelling shampoos before making a careful selection. Conveniently, at our Target the video game section isn't far away, so J and I will part ways for a while. Eventually though, he'll come back to find me still standing where he left me, staring and smelling. "So... have you picked one yet?" he'll ask and then before he knows it, he gets pulled into helping make the final decision. "Smell this one, honey - what do you think?" He'll kind of put up his hands in front of him as he takes a step back from me. "I don't wanna smell it" he'll say, shaking his head. "Ohh, come on" I'll say, thrusting the bottle under his nose. "I don't know, I can't really smell it" he'll say, or really that's what he used to say but now he knows better. Because sometimes, I can't quite smell it either and I'll be the dumbass who squeezes the bottle too hard, trying to release the scent and ends up getting splooged in the face. Oh man, that's embarrassing. And there was a time when I shot some shampoo up his nose and before he could jerk his head away. "Ughhh, thanks a lot and no, this does not smell good! I'm gonna be smelling it all night!"
So now, he just humors me and says "Yeah sure, that one's good" or tells me he has lost his ability to smell as he slowly backs away from me, with the shopping cart wedged between us for protection.

On The Bound

I'm no stranger to spending large amounts of time in solitude. Lots of times, I even prefer it. However, it's not always necessarily a good idea for someone like me. Highly suggestable and easily influenced, I'm not a very good friend to myself. I need to feel the energy that radiates off of other people, opens my eyes back up to life. I'm alone too long and I get weird.
I made a secret wish that my phone wouldn't ring this weekend. I got it. Only now, instead of relief it just gives me an empty feeling that makes me feel even further away from the outside world.
I'm 27 and I have no idea where my life is going.
I feel so far behind.
I couldn't even tell you what I really want to happen.
Things can be awful and comfortable at the same time. It's amazing how long you can go about your everyday routine, just floating.
My job is really getting me down. I don't know if it's the job so much or the environment. If I take a step back and look at it, it's really not so bad. I should be so much more thankful for it than I am. It's even something that I could move slightly up the ladder with if I really wanted it bad enough. It's rare to find an opportunity like that for someone like me with no college education and not much in the way of prospects. But honestly, it's something that I find painfully boring, emotionless and unsatisfying if I look at it as a career. Maybe that just sounds like an excuse not to try. If it paid well and had benefits (which I'm sure it doesn't) I think I'd almost be happier working at the grocery store down the street. Yeah. Sunday nights often bring on these thoughts that suck.

I dont know what I'm doing, dont know
Should I change my mind? I cant decide,
There's too many variations to consider
No thing I do dont do no thing but bring me
More to do, It's true,
I do imbue my blue unto myself,
I make it bitter
Baby, lay your head on my lap one more time
Tell me you belong to me
Baby say that it's all gonna be alright
I believe that it isn't

- from "On The Bound" - Fiona Apple

Stupidity Tries

So, I wrote this post earlier this week (in case you missed it) about my own fuck-uppance of my car. I took it to a recommended collision center and they were very nice, didn't grunt or make fun of me (well, at least not to my face). They will need 4 or 5 days to work on it though, so I haven't dropped it off just yet. As you can see below, it doesn't look that bad, well unless you get up really close. They were nice enough to wire up my bumper in the meantime so it won't be all jangly-dangly.

*picture removed*

Total cost to repair: $1,419
Yep, that's right - One thousand four hundred and nineteen junior bacon cheeseburgers, folks. But with my insurance, I'll just have to come up with 500 crispy chicken nuggets. I know that might seem like side salads or baked potatoes to some of you, but for me it'll be a stretch just to come up with that much. We'll get it figured out though.
Damn, I'm hungry...

Eternal Flame

So, I don't know if I've mentioned it recently or I've just been thinking about it. Thinking, thinking, thinking about it. It's been like over a month since I've had a cigarette. I can't believe it, folks. I know it's a good thing for me, but I can't say I don't feel like something's missing sometimes. Like when I get in my car, or after a meal, or when it would be breaktime at work, it's kind of like "Hmm, I used to do something... oh right, I can't. That sucks."
I didn't exactly understand what my boyfriend meant after he quit when he said he had dreams/fantasies about smoking. Well now I've experienced it. Like the other morning. You know, I had a bad morning. But even if I didn't, the feeling still pops up. This little voice says "heyyy, there's still a stale Marlboro Light in your car somewhere... come on, no one would know, it'd just be our little secret." Then I start imagining it, feeling it between my lips, lighting it up, craving that familiar burn... and I have to admit it feels so naughty that I get a little sexually excited just thinking that I could, but I don't. And I didn't. Yay.
I could possibly use some good distractions though. I've been eating too much and I hate it, I've never weighed this much. Not cool.
So yeah, in response to that email from a while back - sure, send those cock pictures my way...

(Giggle giggle.)

Telephone Line

Yesterday I had this phone/web training for one of the many online systems we'll be using at our office. I sound like such a slack-jawed yokel by saying this, but I get sort of this glazed over giddy excitement listening to people talk in different accents than my own. Well, unless it's someone that you really can't understand for shit over the phone, that just sucks. But anyways, this woman was from Texas and I automatically liked her about 10% more just for how she talked. You know what's cute? The subtle differences. I've noticed this from a couple Texans (not to lump you all together or anything) but when saying "umm" it's more like "ehm" whereas where I live it's more like "aahm." Or when saying email, she said it more like "e-mell" whereas here people sound more like "e-mayel." Oh, maybe you'd just have to hear it but it's cute! However, then I think if I put my voice on here or talked to one of you, it would sound horribly nasal and maybe even a touch Fargo-ish to you. Oh yaaah, dontcha know.
This reminds me of when I had a pen pal from Rhode Island, who I had never met but was thinking of calling. I like how ahead of time she described how her voice would sound and saying "How are you?" would be more like "Hawaiiya?" I think she may have called me Jessic-er too.
I also can't help but be fascinated by British and Australian accents. Without even meaning to though, I'll start picking up other people's accents as I'm talking to them and I hope they don't find it insulting. I can see how now when I talk to my brother, he sounds completely different having lived in Australia for like 4 years. It makes me smile, he sounds so... proper or something. Anyway.
I hope that didn't offend anyone or sound like a totally small-town, small-minded thing to say. I just think our little differences are cool.

Dude, WTF?

Um yeah. I have other issues to discuss, but it appears that my blog and some other blogs are looking all fucked up this morning if you look at them with Firefox. They're fine with Internet Explorer and that's the only way I could even log in to Blogger was with IE. If I try to log in to Blogger and I'm using Firefox it says "unexpected error, our engineers have been notified of this problem and are working to resolve it." Crazy shit, man. Crazy. My BF just said the blog looks fine on his computer... is it just me? I know, it's too early to get all in a technical tizzy.

Update 10:10AM - Okay now it mostly looks back to normal. Whew.

I Wanna Go Back

I shouldn't give myself a self-fulfilling prophecy like that, talking about how dumb I feel.
Because then this morning, I did something really really stupid and I feel really really awful about it. You ever wish you could just hit rewind and go back, even just 30 seconds?
The roads are slippery today. I thought I'd do something different. Instead of backing all the way down the driveway, I thought I could be slick and get the car turned around to avoid sliding backwards. Didn't quite go as planned! I fuckin got myself caught on the side of the garage. SHIT! Trying to get myself detached from it probably made it worse, and I could hear the pieces of plastic falling to the ground. Fuck fuck fuck. The hood is fine. The bumper is still on, just not attached on that side. The side light is hanging by it's cord, the grill popped right off and parts of it shattered. There's a nice line of paint along the front quarter panel and the wheel well plastic is hanging down. DAMNIT!
I managed to get inside the house before the hysterical sobs began, as I have a feeling the neighbors probably saw the whole thing and were wowed by my idiocy. ("C'mere honey, look - the neighbor girl can't get out of her driveway again!") I called my boyfriend and told him what happened and he came to my rescue. He's a good, good man for putting up with my hysterics and got me calmed down, shoved the light back in and didn't make me feel stupid. But I do feel stupid. I fucking hate driving anyway. I just suck in reverse, I'm too short to see very well behind me and haven't gotten the hang of backing out of the garage very well since we moved. I feel like such a fucking idiot. Don't laugh. This really sucks. But...
At least I still have full coverage on the car. BUT I still have a $500 deductible and you know, I don't have $500! Plus, if the total repair cost is over $1,000 my insurance will most likely go up. From what I know about body work nothing is under $1,000. Fuckin shit. But...
At least no one got hurt. I was able to drive to work. The roads still suck so this was not a good experience given that I already got myself all shook up. I almost slid into the curb on the same side that hit the garage, and then I almost got rear ended by someone who was following too close. Stopping and turning just doesn't work when it's slippery like this. But yeah, I know it could've been worse. I sure hope the roads clear up by the time I leave work.
I wish I could just go back and start this day over.

Dumb

Okay, so I like to read and I like to listen. I've got a sometimes surprisingly good long term memory, believe it or not. However, my short-term memory sucks. But still, we've almost got the basics down here for a learning experience, right? Well, it's embarrassing because apparently not. I used to be so good at picking things up quickly, understanding, I used to even be part of the smarter kids in school... well, up until about 10th grade. It was a harder transition then because I had come off like I had potential up until that point. So I was even more of a disappointment when I just stopped caring - about school, about myself, my future, etc. Sometimes I'm afraid that I'm unable to understand things like I used to, I'm unable to learn like I used to. Like now at work, my job isn't even that hard but I find it terribly difficult to find the will to concentrate. And I'm embarrassed when I'm in a situation where people give me that look, you know, the frustrated god-you're-a-dumbass look when really I want to scream "I wasn't always like this! I used to be like you!" And I'm embarrassed that it's mostly because of all the drugs and not giving a fuck that I'm just not the same, and maybe I never will be.

Ask

I'm thinking about trying sort of a theme this week. I will attempt to post things that are a little more personal and might say a little more about me, even if they aren't quite Post Secret worthy. I mean, the things that I write are part of me, but a lot of times are pretty vague. I love reading other people's stories and intimate details of their lives, but even with my less than exciting one, I hesitate. There are some stories I think of telling and I stop myself. I'm too worried about what you think. Or I'm too worried about what I think. I don't know. We'll see how this plays out. If there's anything (within reason) that you'd like to know about nervousgirl, just ask or send me an email...

Coyness is nice, and
Coyness can stop you
From saying all the things in
Life you'd like to

So, if there's something you'd like to try
If there's something you'd like to try
Ask me, I wont say no, how could I?

- from "Ask" by The Smiths

River of Deceit

There are days that I let it consume me. Like the recurring dream of being chased, but you know that if you try to run your legs won't cooperate. So rather than trying to get away you just lay down and play dead, wait for it to pass.

There are days that I sweep it under the rug. I'll make up my face like any other day and even smile like I imagine a normal person would. There are times like these that if someone asks me sincerely how I really am, I'll burst into tears.

There are days that I fight it. There are days that I don't have to. Sometimes I'll wake up and see things in a different light, and I can't understand why I felt so bad the day before.

Stick 'Em Up *

So, it was a pretty good weekend but as always it went by really fast. We rented "The Warriors" game for the PS2 and it's pretty cool, looks like they did a good job and we'll have to see the movie to compare. Apparently, it's a 70's "cult classic" that I had never heard of before. All I know is, you get to brawl in the streets saying stuff like "Come on, sucka!" and "Can yooou dig iiiit?" so that's pretty sweet. Although I don't have much patience when it comes to video games, so this ends up as me watching and cheering on the boyfriend more often than my actually playing it. That's okay though. We also watched "Million Dollar Baby" yesterday, and as everyone had said it was really good. As you can imagine between the two, I think I had a lot of violent dreams last night. I'm always so behind on movies, as I don't much like going to the theater and would rather get our money's worth with having all the movie channels and a DVR box from our cable company. So sometimes I ignore all the hype for a while until it's out of the theaters. Anyways, I didn't really know much of what all the fuss over "Million Dollar Baby" was other than it was about boxing. So I asked J "So, she's pregnant while she's boxing?" he was like "whaat?" and I said "you know, pregnant with the million dollar baby?!" Well, I was way off, as usual. Heh heh.
Anyways, we did some shopping and I bought a couple pairs of cheap shoes which while cute are proving to be somewhat uncomfortable**, wasted money on some bunk-ass... stuff (wink-wink) that was pretty stale, ate good foods, had some company, you know - business as usual. All in all, it was a pretty good time. And all in all, it sucks being back to work today, and time has slowed down to a crawl. If you're one of those lucky enough to have the day off today, enjoy!

*the song by Quarashi, in case you wondered

**I'm not much of one to do the "wear it once and take it back to the store" kind of thing, but now these shoes are seriously hurting, and since I've just been on carpet all day and have been careful, I'm considering exchanging them...

Say Something (follow-up)

Thanks again to everyone who de-lurked and left a comment on the last post, or anytime for that matter. I'd like to say this blog is just for myself like a diary, but I admit it - I like to know there are people out there who read it! A lot of times it makes me feel a bit less lonely. I think we all like to get some kind of feedback on our blogs, although I can't really say much for myself sometimes, as I often get shy about leaving comments or giving advice, even when I enjoy what I'm reading. I try to break out of being such a silent observer, and I appreciate it when others do that too. Alright, I'm babbling. Anyways, thanks for indulging me...

Say Something

As I learned from Girlfiend, it's National De-Lurking week, or it was and it's dangerously close to being over! Won't you come out of the shadows and leave a comment? Please, don't be shy... take this opportunity to say hi, ask me questions, tell me about yourself, put a little somethin-somethin in my inbox, eh? It's always appreciated. Pretty please?

Say something, say something, anything
I’ve shown you everything
Give me a sign
Say something, say something, anything
Your silence is deafening
Pay me in kind

- from "Say Something" by James

In The Waiting Line

I thought I had a lot of material for posts, but it's all stopped up in my head. So prepare for another disjointed post! If I just had some time to devote to writing without interruption... well, then again I'd need motivation too. I'll have to get to that another time.

Anyways, the news is that our little cat is sick and is on some heavy-duty antibiotics. If you haven't tried it, it's just loads of fun trying to give a cat it's medicine. Poor girl. They've discovered a few more health problems than what we originally brought her in to the vet for. She is getting up there in years, but if you saw how she gallops about and attacks her catnip mouse, you'd think she was still a kitten. I really hope she's gonna be okay. We're gonna try to keep her as happy and comfortable as possible and will hopefully have her around for a while longer. I'd say more, but it's kinda tough for me to write about.

I watched "Must Love Dogs" the other night, it was okay. Diane Lane looked pretty milfy (can we just use that as an adjective these days?) but seemed to lack much in the way of natural-looking facial expressions. I don't know how to describe it. She's still cool and everything though and so was John Cusack, who was his usual sarcastic witty character. Nothing really stood out in this movie as all that funny or all that touching, but it was decent.

I'm wearing one of my dorkier outifts and I can't wait to go home and change. I also can't wait to go home because this day is dragging and at home I have some peanut butter/chocolate chip cookies that I made the other night - mmm, cookies.

I Do Not Want This

Feeling a bit more energetic today, although I'm also a bit edgy. I don't necessarily like feeling like this. It's like I've got my anger back after it's been subdued for a long time. I'd gone for so long without expressing it that now it just comes out all wrong. I hate it when I'm furiously silent and pouty, when I'm mad I can't look you in the eyes. I find it hard to just let off some steam and not explode. I want to scream and throw things but I don't, I hate it when people do that. Once in a great while, I'll slam a door - I hate it when people do that too, but sometimes I see how that can feel good. I also hate it when people around me know I'm mad and think it's funny that the meek little doormat can have an angry side. I guess I just feel highly sensitive to everything today. Remember that Seinfeld when George tries to get people to leave him alone at work by looking really "busy", which he does by just looking pissed off? But I suppose saying "What the fuck could you possibly want now?" whenever someone comes in or calls would be taking it a little far.

But it'll be okay. At least until I run out of pretzels to snack on.

Possum Kingdom

I'm only half "here" today. Not much different than any other day. Just a shell of a human being, sitting at this desk. Yeah, I exaggerate. I didn't get enough sleep.

Our kitty's sick again and will be going back to the vet. Not cool. We'll see what they say. It's sad when you have an older pet and have to think about these things, and people in general just think putting it to sleep is always the answer if the pet is older than 10. If my boss makes another joke pertaining to cruelty to animals, especially now... it may result in a whip-kick to the temple. Or some Real Ultimate Power type stuff, I don't know. As cool as he can be, I just don't understand people who have no feelings for any pets or animals in general. Or they only have feelings of contempt and annoyance.

Sometimes I wonder if it's possible that gnats or some other kind of teeny tiny fly have been breeding inside this monitor. It's too cold out for many bugs at all to be around, but these little bastards are constantly hovering around the screen, occasionally attempting to fly directly into my eyes. I never see them hanging out anywhere else. This has been going on... well, probably since I've worked here, which has been over a year now. I haven't mentioned anything to anyone until now, as I'm sure I'll be targeted as at fault somehow, and no one wants to be the nasty girl with flies swarming around her. Just so you know though, I do shower and often wear some kind of scented lotion. So yeah, I've got that going for me...

By the way, Tropical Citrus is the worst flavor of Propel I've had so far. It's kinda like Tang (did you drink that back in the day?) but without the sweetness. Blech. Yeah, I know a lot of people think all of the Propel flavors are bad, but I don't really like the taste of plain water in general, plus this makes me feel just a little bit "healthy" since the rest of the time I'm known to drink diet cola.

I've decided to continue with using song titles for my posts. It may have some relevance to the post, or I may have heard it on the radio, or it may just be something from my mental jukebox that I hope you will pick up on. Unoriginal, I know, but I will do it until it no longer amuses me or when I actually think of proper titles. Did you even need to know that?

This post is a whole lotta nothing.

Joy in Repetition

What is this... tingling sensation I feel? Is this what you humans call... arousal? My tender parts are flushed. Can't... keep... legs together. Must commence to grinding. What is this... pleasure you speak of? Pleasure... without procreation? I must learn more of your ways. It's like my heartbeat... is in my pants. Give me something to sit on. Pardon me, I appear to be magnetically drawn to your lap. Let me just hug your face with my chest. What is this... heat I feel emanating from my loins? Did I sit in a puddle? What an interesting sensation. These panties make me so ticklish. Ooh, if I cross my legs real tight... that's nice.

Have you ever been late to work because you had a not-so-quick morning quickie? Or you decided it might help to get yourself off before work and it took a little longer than expected? Or umm, both? How do you explain that?

It can't rain all the time

I'm not normally much of a "gamer", but I wish I could just go home and play more Dead or Alive 4. That would be sweet. Even though the game pisses me off from time to time, at least I'm getting better at it. The lure of unlocking new costumes keeps me coming back. I appreciate things like that, I suppose it appeals to my wanting to play dress up like a little girl. Dead or Alive: Xtreme Beach Volleyball was awesome for that. The whole game was just winning money at tournaments to save up money to unlock sexier bathing suits for the ladies. Unfortunately, the gameplay itself was kinda lame. But anyways...

The other distraction I've been enjoying lately is playing mahjong on the computer. Yeah, that's what it's come to. What a dork. I can spend hours playing this addictive little game with nothing to show for it but sore and dried up eyes, but alas, it keeps me busy.

I think you all can tell I've hit another low with the blog. I've just been having trouble expressing myself and the words don't come out how I want them to. Plus, I'm one of the most boring people around and bitter on top of that. It's nothing new around here, but I've just been in pretty rotten moods lately, and trying to hold back on some of my bitching. This blog just doesn't give me the same joy it used to, but I'm not yet ready to give it up.
Speaking of blogs, my sister-in-law has one now. It's cool, it's more of one of those keeping up with family from far away kind of blogs. She's quite a funny writer too, and oh, how I want to say something! Now even my parents are hip to the blogging scene! I'm thinking it's only a matter of time before someone says "hey, you used to write, this might be a good outlet for you." But I can't really say anything about Nervous Thoughts. Do I make up another blog, only "family-friendly" this time? There are certainly things in this one that would worry and disturb my family. But then again, I think if I wrote one with the intention of family seeing it, it would be really fake. I don't know, in my own way I'm kinda proud of this little blog here, but conflicted about sharing it. There are probably already too many who know and it makes me worry about what they think. It's silly.

Back to bidniss and crabby as a mofo

This is why I never liked depriving myself of things. It leads to this quiet, seething anger turned inward. On my quest to be a better person, instead of feeling cheerful and positive, inside I feel a mix of furious and sad. Why did I have to set myself up with this stupid reward system anyway? Yes, I suppose I am always in need of a crutch or a pat on the back. Now, quitting smoking seems like a lonely (and cruel) world. It feels like ex-smokers and non-smokers and current smokers are all equally non-sympathetic. Then again, I just haven't found much reassurance in anything anyone has had to say. Before I felt like smoking was a lonely world. It seemed like it was getting gradually less and less acceptable. Restaurants, the few that still allow smoking, give the smokers the shitty section. Non-smokers glared at me when I was standing outside, making me hang my head in shame. People would sometimes recoil and start fanning their hands furiously if the smoke blew their way. (I will not let myself become one of those people.) My boyfriend quit over the summer so I know it's been bugging him that I've still been smoking, even though he's been quiet about it for the most part. The smell on my clothes and hair had been bugging me. But still...
I feel angry, at myself mostly. But actually, you know - I do feel angry just in general. Because I'm not one of those people who feels great about denying themself of something. I can and I have, and I don't like it. But there's this idea that that's the only way we're "good" people. And if I wasn't so "bad" it wouldn't be so hard. I know it's hard for everyone, but I think perhaps it's harder for me because I have a shitty attitude, ya know? Ha, yeah. Well, it's just the 10th day, so we'll see how that goes. I'd like to make up for the lack of rewarding myself by eating more, but I just can't. I already felt like crap about myself, and now that the stomach flu gave me a headstart on losing weight, I feel like I can't screw it up this time. So here I am. I feel like I need a new fix. Fuck willpower. Fuck being back to work. Fuckin Fuck Fuck Shit!