Silly Little Girl

My exact thought process. Beware.

I need to write on my blog. Why do I keep a blog if I'm not going to write anything worthwhile?

I should just write the things I'm thinking. Christ, wouldn't that be scary. Those people do not need to know how fucked up I am.

How bad would it be if I admitted I was totally scared that I'm making the wrong choice? Is it too late to change my mind? I only want to change my mind because my colleagues were nice to me today.

I wish I didn't always change my mind.

Writing exactly what I'm thinking is hard. My mind is trained to automatically self edit and that doesn't seem honest.

I hope I like teaching. I hope it likes me. I wish I could still go to the gym down here, but what if I ran into Andy?

I feel really bad about what I'm doing to Andy. Doesn't matter, he's leaving anyway.

This cough medicine is making me stupid. I need more.

Remember the days when it took way more than half a bottle of guafinesin and condeine to fuck me up? Weren't those stupid days.

I wish I was hungry, then I'd have something to do.

I was so wrong about Tiffany.

Which brings me to my fully self-edited, not so real-time thinking process that whoa dudes! I was so wrong about the girl at my work that I hated. No, not that one! Not the other one that I was totally wrong about! The loud-breathing one!

How stupid am I? You'd think by now I'd learn to give people a chance. I had to, in good conscience, confess my leave to Tiffany this week so she wouldn't be totally smacked in the face with it. In doing so, I totally made a friend, and today she took me out to lunch as a "good-bye meal" type of thing. How nice is that? GODDAMNIT, SELF, STOP BEING SUCH A JUDGMENTAL ASSHOLE. Maybe I'd have more friends here if I'd stop judging people. And then maybe I woulnd't want to leave.

Whoa. Epiphany.

Lessons learned

[update]  I'd like to clarify something - I realized after I wrote this post that someone was bound to think that I was stupid and was mistaking Hitler's birthday by mentioning the Devil's birthday - which would be 4/20. Alas, this is not the case. Thesesa's birthday is 4/21, and she, in reality, is the devil! It's a secret, though, so don't tell. [/update]

And now, ladies and gentlemen, for the Q & A portion of our event.

I'll jump right into it, because my head-case brain allows little to no focus for witty intros.

1. From Firecracker613 aka Thesesa - "Seriously, do prefer jelly or syrup when tossing salad?"

Neither. I prefer milky, thick, white, creamy....ranch.

2. From Renee - "Have you told your mother about your recent struggle? If so, how did it go over?"

I did tell my mom. She's no stranger to mental illness herself. In fact, my mom is loopy enough to be happy to have something so huge over which to worry. However, she was ludicrously supportive, and called me and my boyfriend more times than I care to count just to check on me. If nothing else, my mom and I are closer now than we've been in quite some time.

3. From Kristin - "Are you looking forward to LOST tonight or are you not a fan?"

I have never watched LOST in my life, nor do I intend to. I could not even tell you what it's about, unless it happens to be my own biography, as the title implies.

4. From Charlise - "What are the three most vivid dates in your memory, and why?"

I'm going to assume you mean like, romantic dates, and not like...4/21. Which would be the devil's birthday, in case ya'll didn't know.

I haven't been on many real, live dates before. The most memorable, though, would be my first date with Nik. We went to a bar with some friends while I was still underage. (18). I ended up getting blackout drunk and punching a kid in the face for saying the Eagles sucked. I didn't remember doing it about 30 seconds after it happened. I just remember being like "Whoa, what the fuck is he all mad about?" This may have been the moment Nik fell in love with my class and elegance.

The second most memorable (outside of a relationship, or else they would all be with Nik) would be my first date with my first boyfriend, for obvious reasons. We went...shit. I have no clue where we went. Movie, maybe? I guess it wasn't that memorable after all. I just remember being so fucking excited that I was 13 and I was Dating! A! Boy! With! A! Car! RAH RAH SIS BOOM BAH. This is how I talked then.

And the third would probably be...I don't know. See. Not so many dates to ponder. Maybe that one time I saw Dawn of the Dead with this boy Scott, but that's only because the movie rocked, and I was totally freaked out by how freakishly protective this boy was of his truck. I put my feet under me and he nearly had an anuerism. What a tool that kid was.

5. From Erica - "Pirates or Ninjas? Optional - do you like Ugg boots?"

Dude. Seriously. Ninjas. No fucking question, hands all the ass-way down. Ninjas will fuck some pirates up, with authority. And as far as Ugg boots go...bleh. Sometimes I like the way chicks wear them, other times, Britney times, I'm like "Wow. You're wearing fleece boots in July. You look like an ass." I do not own a pair, nor do I truly ever intend to, no matter how much my impulse shopping gene may occassionally jones.

And that concludes our "entry" for today, kids. Stay tuned for...some random rambling bullshit I'll inevitably post over the weekend. Hugs and Kisses and flying ninja stars to your JUGULAR, BITCH!

The Pinnacle of My Existence

THIS  is what my life has been leading to all these years. Because I know I've spent hours of pain and buckets of tears lamenting the fact that cutting a straight line with scissors is JUST SO HARD, GOD.

Tea and Sympathy

I had to spend last night up at my disgusting, smelly, greasy cousin's house. She made me sit on piles of mold and mildew, and tried to serve me poop for dinner.

Can you tell I gave her the url for this site? Hi, Thesesa.

In reality, I drove the abagazillion miles up to her awesome little apartment for some tea and sympathy. Theresa rocks the party that rocks the party at giving tea and sympathy, and, also, candy and pork. It was all lovely and cozy and fun, except for at one part where I told her that, no, her biceps do NOT rival those of Antonio Banderas', and she consequently punched me in the stomach.

My family is violent, yo.

2007 is on it's way out, and it's wicked easy for me to sit here and wallow in the things about this year that ate my brain, but far me it for me to whine (lie). Instead, I'll make a list of the things that owned my world this year.

1. Feeling important at a job.
2. Getting two raises.
3. Starting school.
4. Moving into my own place, finally, God.
5. Getting help for the crazy.
6. My kid learning dance moves.
7. Discovering RPG video games.
8. The 7th Harry Potter. In actuality, this also ruined my life, because alas, what else do I have to live for?
9. Reconnecting with Lauren, again, cuz she is my homeslizzle, yo.
10. Realizing that, despite that fact that sometimes I want to stab him in the eyes, I love my dude, and he's my penguin/lobster.
11. Threatening to kidnap sheep.
12. Turning 21.
13. Turning 21 in Atlantic City, and setting a life's goal to slap a hooker.
14. Setting a life's goal to move to France.
15. Getting engaged.
16. Learning to drive stick.
17. Discovering this, and this, and this.
18. Getting a digital rebel.
19. Western Civ and Mr. S.
20. Writing wicked good papers.
21. A bunch of other shit that escapes me, at the moment.

All in all, the year's been good, even if it's eating my brain.  Here's to an even better 2008. Drink a shitload of champagne for me, because I'll be here playing video games.

Standby

I'm currently trying to register a domain and map it here...if everything goes all kerfluey in the meantime, rest assured that I will be back!

Emo Girl iZ in Ur RSS reader, makin ur blogz dumb.

[edited to note:  to the fucking sicko from Brazil who got here by googling "pictures of little girls sucking" sorry if you were disappointed, kill yourself.]

Dude. I swear to God I never wanted this blog to be the one that's all "oMg like Death and stuff and anger." You know the one. And damnit, I came really close yesterday! Sure, someone actually died and stuff, but, really now. Entries like that are one step away from aaaannnggsty poems, and then there's no where to go but here:

To, finally, here:

So, anyway. Yeah, my cousin died. And I'm really fucking pissed off that it took something like that to make me realize that, hey! I'm sort of an asshole! Maybe I should do something about that.

Ahem. Moving on.

I tried to think of funny stuff to write about to get the aaannngssst off the top of this page, but I'm really coming up blank. Mostly because I'm not really that funny. Further evidenced by the fact that I entertained myself for like twenty minutes last night by poking my poor, long-suffering boyfriend, and saying "EAT POOPY" over and over again. Heee. It makes me giggle a little now just thinking about it.

Speaking of the poor, long-suffering boyfriend, alas, he is suffering. The man is suddenly vying for sainthood in light of the death and suffering and, you guessed it, aaaannngggst. Sunday he was all sweet and snoogly, and let me buy cheesesteaks and mozzarella sticks because he knows that grease is the only way to kill the pain.

Monday night he ran the errands that my lazy ass had neglected, including picking up BIRTH CONTROL (oh, how emasculating. or, maybe! it's really NOT emasculating, because, dude! he's banging a girl! and he's doing it so often that she has to TRY TO NOT GET PREGNANT! this is how i imagine some of his geeky ass friends talk sometimes. it makes me laugh inside my brain.) and mustard. But he had to make an extra trip for the mustard because CVS only had yellow mustard, and yellow mustard is not acceptable in my home. And! He brought me home ice cream, STEVE COLBERT ICE CREAM and I'm pretty sure I've reached the pinnacle of my life, right here, thanks, I'm done. Good-bye.

And it seems like that should be my cue to end this entry, which was supposed to be "funny" and ended up being "stupid." It amazes me how I can dribble for like, hundreds of words and not come up with a singularly funny sentence or image that I did not steal from here. There should be an award for useless blithering, I would own that shit.

World so big, and I so little.

(Unrelated editor's note: Yes. I have changed my design three times in two weeks. I made the first, was ok with it, realized it's Christmas, made another and that one sucked so I made this one. I <3 it)

As I previously wrote, I got engaged a few weeks ago. A day or two after it happened, a blinding terror crashed down on me. I'm not afraid to get married; I love my boyfriend and there isn't a shred of doubt that I want 3 years to become 30 years to become forever. I got scared because I realized I'm almost a grown up.

Five years ago today I was a terrified, pregnant, teenage drop-out. I'd just found out that I was disinherited, and that I was not welcome at my family's Christmas Eve party this year, because enough people were ashamed that it "wouldn't be right to make anyone uncomfortable." I'd made enormous mistakes in my lifetime, but it seemed like I'd finally made the one that would, for all intents and purposes, claim my life. My mother feigned support, but made thinly veiled asides about my character and the advantage of abortion. She staged loud conversations with my aunts in the room next to me about how she was "sickened" by me, and she "never did anything to deserve a disappointment of a child."

Then, I was no more than a scared little child, putting on her best big girl clothes and playing House.

Four years ago today, I was ready to celebrate my first Christmas with my son, who was only five months old.

He was there in the flesh, and God, how I loved him. My heart still bursts with emotion at the site of this picture, as it does when I see the child he's become. But still, I was little more than a scared child myself.

The two years to follow would be ones that would hold the worst mistakes of my life. I feel very little more than crushing shame at the memories those years hold. I made decisions then for which I will never forgive myself. Though I wasn't raised with much religion, there are still many moments when I expect fire and brimstone to rain down on me for the sins I've waged; I don't know that I'll ever shake the feeling that I will be punished for what I've done.

A year ago today I was 20 years old, but millions of miles away from where I'd been. I was opening my eyes about my family. I had my father. I had a good job at which I was succeeding, a boyfriend that I loved, and a son that melted my heart into little pools of lovey-dovey blubber a katrillion times a day. I was still afraid of my future, still doubtful, but I'd come a long way and I let myself have a little rest. 

And now, today, I have the same job. I have my own apartment, my own car, I pay my bills. I'm a crossroads with my career, but I'm confident that either path will lead me to success. I'm planning to marry the man I've loved madly for years. My son is a phenomenally brilliant beacon in my life. I'm happy.

But, yeah, I'm still a little scared. Does being a grown-up ever really stop being scary? 

The one where I still don't make sense

Because I can't seem to get my head together enough to create a genuine post with like, a theme and transitional sentences and shit, I'm just going to make a list of random and wholly unrelated ideas and events.

1. Christmas is coming, and I am thrilled, because I am nine. I'm insanely in possession of the Christmas spirit this year, and the fact that my house is still not decorated is killing my soul, a little bit.

2. Lauren and I have a date tomorrow night. With each other. But not in a touch-my-boobs kind of way. We're going to drink spirits and watch movies and talk about how boys suck. Except not really, because that would make us 15. Except yes, really, because we're 15.

3. I still hate this girl at my work, with her loud breathing and bad music and idiocy. I want to scratch her big stupid face off.

4. I borrowed Alicia Keys' new album from my son's father's girlfriend, and I must say -  though the other 12 or so tracks leave much to be desired (in my mind) there are two killer tracks. "No One" is, of course, her hit single, and it's a hit for a reason. I like it - it's catchy and classic. However, "Go Ahead" blows it out of the park. I can't remember the last time a song came out in my lifetime that I thought was completely timeless. This song is amazing. The beat is one you can't help but move to, but it's classic. Part of it reminds me of a throwback to Aretha and Patty LaBelle, but there's definitely a newness to it. I would recommend buying the CD just for this song, but I'm sure you can download it somewhere.

5. I cleaned my ring yesterday. Goddamn is it sparkling now.

6. I need to write a FAQ. But it will be a sham, because it's not like anyone actually asks me questions. Ask me questions, you bastards!

7. I can't wait to go home and play video games.

8. I can't wait until midnight, when my paycheck clears.

9. Did I tell ya'll that I skipped that job interview I had last Friday? Well, I did. So there.

10. Lists are hard.

11. I still love Herbert.

12. I realized today that no matter how early you get up, or how well you prepare, there is no quick way to hustle a cranky four year old out the door at 5 in the morning.

13. Mmm, beef stew.

14. Ewww, beef curtains.

15. Word association is fun.

16. My head is all with the achey, for no reason. Stupid head!

17. I love Harry Potter so much.

18. I wish Nik loved Harry Potter so much. Bastard.

19. I wish more people liked me at my job.

20. They probably would if I was a nicer girl.

21. This sucks. I'm done.

Because "Stupid Fucking Shitface Asshole Bitchpuke.com" was already taken

What's that you say? My banner looks like it was created in MS Paint? Well, it's the first banner I ever made so seriously, go fuck yourself. Is it a crime to not own or know how to work Photoshop? Um...it is? Oh. Well. Kindly turn the other way while I run away, ok?

Hm. Anyway. During this half-assed and haphazard "redesign" it also occured to me that I selected the dumbest fucking site address. So, someday when I'm some mad famuzzz bloggah, y0, I will be forced to convert to some shit like "kitkat.org" or something equally stupid.

I chose "Kitkat" because it was a childhood nickname, and because I was at work and pressed for time and was like "fuckit, don't care." I tend to take stuff like choosing names way too seriously, and eventually I freak out and just choose something to get the decision away from me. "Decisions" and "choices" freak me out to no end, because I am "flighty" and "fickle."

At any rate, please excuse my pitiful excuse for a web design, and instead, look at the pretty snail over on the left there! He rocks, pretty hardcore, is what I am thinking. Makes it all ok.

Still don't know stuff

Hey, what's up to the person that got here by searching "coitus" in google blogs! Sorry if you were disappointed!

I'm sorely tempted to change the header of this blog to "penis vagina dirty sex panties foot fetish i love new york britney spears nicole richie is pregnant and lindsay lohan giving blow jobs" just for the search engine hits.

Ahem. Welcome to all you pregnant foot fetishists, also.

IN OTHER NEWS:

The Crazy that ate my brain took over the house last night and forced me to scream 'LAZY, INCONSIDERATE FUCK!' over and over again at my poor boyfriend. I still maintain that my initial complaint was justified, but the whole "I fucking hate you and never want to see you again" may have been a wee bit over the top.

Now I find myself firmly implanted into Friday, which is exactly where I've waited to be all week, yet I'm finding it strangely disappointing. Sure, I have jeans on, and I can be little more blatant about my inability to concentrate, but the fact that a pair of stiletto boots and 'nice pants' are waiting for me in the car is leaning heavily on my shoulder. No one should ever have to dress up on Friday, unless it's in a cocktail dress and involves, well, cocktails. But alas, I have an interview this afternoon for a job that I'm only slightly lukewarm about.

It's way closer to my house, and that's the biggest draw. My current position and the new one each have drawbacks and attractions. Let's observe them, in pretty list form.

Current: 35 miles away
New: Less than 3 miles

Current: Good Pay
New: Same pay

Current: $120 a month for the best benefits on the east coast for me and my child
New: $157 every two weeks for mediocre benefits

Current: Fully matched 401k, up to 6%
New: Partially matched up to 3% 401k

Current: Day one benefits, day one Paid Time Off of 21 total days. Also, paid funeral time for family and non-family.
New: Benefits after 30 days, accrual of PTO of TEN DAYS PER YEAR. Hi, that sucks really bad. Get your shit together and pay me to not be there.

In all honesty, I've got it pretty good here. I get paid rather handsomely considering I don't have a degree and I'm only 21. The thing that massively sucks is I'm not fond of my colleagues and the commute is starting to make me consider pouring tequila into a thermos for the ride in. Oh, also, I hate insurance. I freak myself out over this damn job every single day, and all for what? So some yuppie in California can get his fucking commission? I wouldn't mind being a basketcase all the time, if it meant that I was making some miniscule difference. Call it cliched or naive or whatever, but I do want my life to mean something. I do not want to be a corporate robot.

That's all I've got for this morning. At one point, I had a story in my head about the construction guy who got disgustingly close to my ear like he was going to lick it, then screamed 'HAVE A FANTASTIC DAY' but the memory of it is still pretty squicky at this point, so give me a little time to heal.