Itchy blog

Disarm You With A Smile

2008-10-01T14:39:00.002-04:00

The 'Thon started today and I've submitted my first shot to the cause this year. I'm sure I'll be sending in others during the week. I've been participating in this for four years now. Time flies. But anyway, spruce up the chest and send in some photos. Or some money. Or both! Breast cancer, like all cancers, affects us all. Men and Women alike can be diagnosed with it. Those that love those that are diagnosied are affected. It's all a big ball of suck, to be simplistic. So whip 'em out and donate a shot. Keep in mind, to see the bare chests you gotta cough up $50. I'll see you there...

Picture Yourself In The Living Room

2008-09-24T15:45:00.000-04:00

I've been thinking about Itchy a bit recently. I kinda miss her. She was a hoot. And, even though she's a shield of sorts, she was free. Freer. To say things. Even if she was saying them in very vague ways, she was freer.

Freer. That doesn't look right. Fee-er feels better to me but probably isn't right. But I'm sticking with it.

So, yeah. Free-er. I liked the feeling of the free. Or, I dunno. Maybe she wasn't really free-er. Maybe I'm just bored with my life now for dumb reasons and looking for excuses. Or straws. Or something that makes sense here.

It's not like I have anything really to say. Anything I need to share. Anything I can't just blurt out. Not really. Or, maybe I do...but I can't. Or feel that I shouldn't. Or I'm making them all to be bigger than they are. I dunno.

Itchy seemed to get out more. She seemed to do more people watching. More observating. She seemed to be more aware of crazy things going on around her. Like pilots losing their keys in stripper's g-strings and things of that sort. She could spin these observations in an amusing manner. She seemed to have a funner life than what I feel my life is. Even though they are one in the same.

But are they?

I dunno. I'm not sure where I'm going with these thoughts or if I'm going anywhere. Maybe I'm just doing a pressure release. *pfh-shooooooo*

Or maybe I need to come back here. Maybe I'm feeling too out in the open for my liking. We'll see. I'll ponder a bit.

But knowing that I'm having these thoughts makes me super happy I stuck with my gut feeling and kept the lid on this place. Even with new people in my life. That was a good call. I use my thinking part sometimes after all...

She Goes Running For The Shelter

2008-04-06T16:18:00.000-04:00

Have you ever swam out to the deepest end of the pool and started to tread water?

And then you decide to see how long you can do it. And so you tread and you tread and you tread until your legs and your arms feel so tired that you just don't think you're going to have the energy it will take to stop the treading and begin swimming back to the shallow end?

That's kinda how I feel right now.

Some Day Drive A Body Down To The Ground

2008-03-31T14:15:00.000-04:00

I learned something about a month or so ago that I thought I was fine with. I thought I'd come to terms with it and that I'd moved on and that it had no impact on my general well being and happiness.

I really don't think I have...

This thing...the thing that I learned? It ripped through me like a dull blade. It ripped into my chest and started tearing up the heart that had, until then, been fine. Not broken. Not even cracked. Just a bit uncomfy.

I think I've realized it's all broken up now. Ripped to pieces.

I've decided, in my brain, that I've never been loved. That I just thought I was. Believed that I was. And he thought he was loving me. But I think he was fooling himself. And in turn fooling me. And it was all one big nice and warm faux love affair.

And that was my one chance.

And it turned out to be faux.

And each time I have to hear that voice. And each time that voice doesn't say things. Things that need to be said to me so I can move on....there goes another piece of it. Exploding in my chest. Ensuring it will never be whole again.

To top it off? I'm becoming way too comfortable just sitting in my apartment. No going out. Not taking any chances. Just pretending to be fine and whole and unbroken as I tell myself how happy I am.

I am happy. I am. I know it doesn't sound that way. But I am. I'm happy not living a lie. It just makes me sad to know that the lie was lived at all. That I believed in it. That I let my guard down and opened myself up to it. That I allowed myself to love and pretend to be loved.

I hope that never happens again...

Don't Know If I'll Be Back Again

2008-03-03T13:16:00.000-05:00

I've made a decision! I know, right. Riveting. What an opener! You're on the edge of your seats to find out what this grand decision could be. I know. I'm kind of a big deal.

Or not.

Either way, a decision has been made. And here it is:

Itchy must die!

Yup. I'm done with her. I mean, she's fun and all. We'd had some laughs. But, as part of my getting back to me and liking me and knowing who this me person is again I think I need to let her go. Which, really, is dumb for I am Itchy and Itchy is me. But, not really. She's a shield. I no longer need a shield.

So, I'm gonna stop this here blog and start me up a new blog. But, in my paranoid need to never have me and Itchy joined in reality, I'm not linking to the new blog here. For a few reasons. 1. It doesn't exist yet, but it will. 2. Um...I might as well say "Hey look I'm Itchy!" if I do that and I've avoided that for this long. For I ROCK at undercover shenanigans. And 3. A treasure hunt for you guys to find me would be awesome! Wha? You don't want a treasure hunt to find me? You want me to just tell you? Fine, lazy asses. Leave me a comment or email me and I'll give you the knowledge that you seek.

So, that's that. I gotta leave the Itchy behind. Not that I didn't have a helluva lot of fun with her. No. It's been quite the opposite. She's helped me in soooo many ways. She's like my very own snuffalufagus. She's cuddley. She's fun. She's seen only by me.

But, I'm more comfortable with me now. I'm not totally comfy yet, but I gotta break myself in. I'm like a new pair of jeans. I fit really good through the hips and thighs but I create just a hint of muffin top. And I'm fine with that.

Kiss You All Starry Eyed

2008-02-27T15:27:00.000-05:00

This morning I was getting ready to feed the dogs when I heard this noise. So, I stopped what I was doing and I listened. And I heard it again. Sounded a bit like...well it sounded a whole lot like Predator to be quite honest. But I was as of yet unable to pinpoint the Predator. Since they are able to blend into any environment, this came as no surprise. I mean...I don't have any night vision goggles or anything of the sort!

But then I heard it again....

That noise. That Predator noise. It was coming out of my Beagle! She was sitting there, drooling, shaking, whining, and making the Predator sound. I didn't know if I should continue to get the food ready or prepare for some battle.

So, I stood for a minute. Listening. Watching. Making sure that she wasn't going to have a Predator explode out of her chest cavity like an Alien. Or the Thing. Or hell...even like a Space Herpe! I mean, I had to be at work on time. The last thing I need to worry about is cleaning a space herpe up out of my kitchen.

So, I'm sitting there thinking admittedly ridiculous thoughts and watching my Beagle shiver and shake and make the sounds of a space creature over the same bowl of food she's eaten since the beginning of our relationship and it made me realize that I need to get more excited over my food. I have variety! I can eat when I choose! And I take it for granted and I don't even make any sounds while watching my food be prepared for me. Dogs got it all figured out...

Get Jobs In Offices And Wake Up For The Morning Commute

2008-02-26T08:57:00.000-05:00

A few weeks ago I was watching the Best Week Ever and they were talking about some Paris Hilton movie called The Hottie and The Nottie. And, as they tend to do on BWE, they were making huge fun of it. But, it was all just so over the top and the plot sounded so fucking ridiculous that I really, honestly, believed they were just making it up.

A bit of backstory: since I've moved out on my own I've fallen behind on my Entertainment Weekly reading and I'm a few weeks behind. I anticipate I'll get all caught up soon. Due to some awesome. But, anyway....yeah. Few weeks behind on the EW...

This morning, I'm reading a bit of some Entertainment Weekly and I see the review for The Hottie and The Nottie! It's a real movie!!!!!!!!! Some people sat down and wrote this. Then some other people sat down and looked at it. Then they took it to some other people and together as a group they all said "YES! This is a movie that needs to be made. AND, and....it shall star Paris Hilton!"

I am now convinced that I am far too smart to ever make a movie.

Roll Me In Designer Sheets

2008-02-21T13:17:00.000-05:00

The date is quickly approaching that the next major step in my major life event can occur. And each morning that I wake up I feel a little bit more sad. And a little more free. All at the same time. It's such a weird feeling to be happy and sad all wrapped up together like those gross Hugs that Hershey's makes. It's exactly like that. Happy chocolate wrapped up in a gross white chocolate sad.

As I sit around and I let my mind wander and ponder and other sorts of onder things I've realized something. I do miss having someone there to hug me when I need one. I miss having someone there that has inside jokes with me. I miss being able to just casually touch someone as I pass by them in the hall. Or while brushing our teeth. Or whenever. I miss knowing that someone loved me. Someone cared about me. I had that. And it's gone. And I miss all of that...

But...I don't miss him. And I'm not really sure if I have missed him at all. And that's odd to me. We were in love. For a long time. Shouldn't I miss him a little? Am I all cold and dead inside? Did I ever really love him? Did I really ever care? Or is this just my mind telling me this is the right thing and to just move on already. I don't know. I just find it odd that I know that I miss those other things, the comfort things, but not the person who was giving them to me.

I Don't Want To Be Your Friend

2008-02-18T22:05:00.000-05:00

So, how much of a nerd does it make me that I watched Dance Wars tonight just so I could find out next season's Dancing With The Stars line up?

And would my nerditude be added to if you knew that I actually said "YES!" out loud and with true glee when they announced Steve Guttenberg's involvement in this lineup? For I did. Oh yes. I did...

In addition to being worried about the appearance of wrinkles around my eyes, I am now worried that my boobs are going to magically just begin to sag over night. I'll wake up one morning and blamo! boobies will be hanging low. So, I've become that person that wears a bra all the time. I don't take it off when I get home from work. I always make sure I have one on when I walk the dogs. I'm....crazy. That's really the only explanation here.

And...um....well. That may be it. I'm boring as shit. You need to know this.

Except...well. No. I'm not boring. I'm crazy as hell. I have upcoming events that I am soooo super stoked about but I am refraining from talking about them here. Why? Because I'm such a Flickr head that I know I'll be posting photos and stories of these events at Flickr and if I also talk about it here I can be easily tracked. OH NO! I can't have that. Worlds would collide. Independent George would be killed. We can't have that. So, just know that while I am boring in general, I have some serious bursts of awesome about to be sprung upon my person. My person is pleased.

Shook A Little Turd Out Of The Bottom Of Your Pants

2008-02-12T09:25:00.000-05:00

Various things have made me very happy the past two days. And I shall share them with you now in the form of a list. I like lists. They make me happy:

I voted this morning. The act of voting has always made me extremely happy. Today, it made me even happier. Just walking up to the door to walk inside to get my ballot made me smile. Telling the man my last name made me smile. Adding my first name added to the joy. Walking over to the privacy booth to make my mark on my ballot added size to the smile. Feeding my ballot into the ballot eating machine, huge. Huge smile. Putting my sticker on to tell the world that I voted. Walking out. Making eye contact with other voters, who were also smiling. Just....giddy as fuck people! Smiling and happy and filled with glee. For voting. For being responsible and voting and being a part of the process and hoping to be part of making a difference. Just....yeah. Happy. Smiley.
Seeing Prince on the Grammys. He makes me happy in my pants.
Morris Day and the motherfucking Time y'all!!! "I got a bear skin rug!" WOO! The dogs thought I'd lost my mind.
Tina Turner. And watching Beyonce do a sad Tina Turner impression right beside Tina Turner. Come on now! A lame Tina Turner impression is bad enough on its own, but right beside the woman herself? Makes me giggle. Not to say that Beyonce didn't look kick ass in the little dress, but woman please. You are not Tina Turner. Tina Turner is Tina Turner. And she still rocks.
(yeah....I just watched the Grammy's last night....sue me! And I'm only half way through..) Jason Bateman, even when being lame and reading off of a teleprompter. He's a cute dude. Cute dudes make me smile.
Jason Bateman bringing out the Foos!
The Foos rocking! Dave Grohl's neck! The Pretender! The rockin'! The FOOS!!!!!
Being part of a hugemongous crowd of people and not encountering the first asshole. Nothing but niceness. People helping people. People being kind to others. People just being happy to know they can make a difference in some way in this world. And sharing how happy they are. I mean....thousands of happy people in one place. Amazing. I'm glad I was there.
Realizing that my life has taken a turn for the better. It's been a long time coming. And it hasn't all been happy. But when it is all said and done and I can sit down and clearly look at events, I'll know that I am happier, stronger, and ready for anything. I am a woman. I may even be roaring a bit...

I promise to not always be so cheesy. It's kinda gross, I know.

PS - Any Virginians reading this, get your asses to the place in which you vote and do so. Vote! VOTE!

And Inside Out Is Wiggida Wiggida Wack!*

2008-02-08T21:11:00.000-05:00

Psst...anybody out there using eMusic? Anybody have any music recommendations for me? I've got 25 free songs and I want to use them wisely. Actually, I've got 14 left. I've used 11. Math is fun!

So, have fun. Tell me what you would download if you were me or if you were you and not me or whatever. Just tell me what you recommend. Sheesh.

Now you might have an idea of how I'm spending a Friday night. Shit. There goes my street cred...

-------------------------------------------------
*I have no idea if I spelled that even remotely close to correctly and guess what? I don't care**.

**Yes I do. I looked it up and changed it. Now if it isn't spelled correctly I can blame the other people and not myself. Bam!

I Have Lost My Fangs

2008-02-07T09:13:00.000-05:00

My arm hair is unruly. Is this unattractive? Is this something I should concern myself with? I don't have dark arm hair, it's rather light. Not that long or plentiful, but what is there seems to be standing up and out and doing all this crazy arm hair stuff. Should I brush it? Should I use lotion on my arms? Would that make the arm hair lay down nicely. Like a nice pomade. I could give my arms a faux hawk or something. Huh. That sounds fun.

Speaking of lotion, is that stuff really necessary? I mean, I use it on my dry patches. But, do I really need to slather my entire body in lotion? I don't see the need. I hate the process. I hate taking the time to do it. I hate having all that lotion all over my hands and then having to wash and rewash my hands, which dries out my hands requiring more lotion for them! So...I repeat. Do I really need to slather lotion all over my body? Because I don't. If I'm supposed to or if I'm expected to, I say "Fuck you lotion police! I scoff at you and your lotiony rules! My face, hands, and elbows are all that need the lotion! I will not clog my pores with your lotion! NO!" I'm a rebel!

I was sitting around my apartment last night crying for four hours straight when I realized, I've not cried as much in my entire life put together as I have this past year. And I suspect I'm not done. It's amazing how things will just all of a sudden build up in me, without me even knowing that anything is building up, and tears just spring to my eyes. I can't even tell you why. Nothing has happened. I'm going about my business. Living my life. Being happy. Pooing with the door open. Eating corn dogs three days straight if I choose. Not turning on the TV when I'd rather hear music. Dancing. Talking to myself. Hanging curtains. Sitting around marveling at the fact that it took me 35 years to finally live out on my own and how kick ass it is! And yet, bam! Crying for four hours straight. And it didn't make me feel better. It gave me a headache. I cried myself into a headache. But I slept well. That's a plus. But tear ducts...do me a favor...next time you send me on a marathon weepy fest, at least clue me in as to why. Yeah...

If I Was A Tree Growing Tall And Green

2008-02-05T11:20:00.000-05:00

So, is it my imagination or have drive thru windows gotten taller to accommodate all of the SUVs on the road? I usually drive a SUV so I'd not really taken the time to notice this, but I'm currently in a rental car. Low to the ground. Peppy. Zippy. Zoomy. But hard to get out of and so low when at ATMs and drive thru windows. I feel like a member of the lollipop guild.

Have you seen the commercial for the restless leg syndrome medication Mirapex? The only reason I noticed it was the listing of side effects at the end. They go through the normal listing of not driving a car if it makes you feel loopy and that you may feel nauseated and blah blah. But then they add that you may notice an increase in your desire for gambling and sex. They mention the word addiction. How does that work? Did Vegas have a hand in developing this drug?

I didn't get to go to the Super Bowl party and be around people and have fun like I was looking forward to. Instead, life decided to give me a sore throat and make me feel horrid. I've wronged someone. I owe someone an apology and I have no idea who or why or anything. I'm sorry, whoever you are, for whatever I did. I didn't mean it. I promise. Honest. Please forgive me...

We Sure Are Cute For Two Ugly People

2008-02-01T09:38:00.000-05:00

I have more evidence to support my theory that the perpetually in motion people upstairs from me are land sharks. That evidence? Baths. They take baths. All the time. And not just a bath. It sounds very splashy while they are in the tub. Very full with water and lots of moving around. And for long periods of time. When I went into my bathroom this morning to hop into the shower, I could hear them sloshing around up there. Splashy splashy slosh slosh. I take my shower, I get out, blow my nose, squirt the nasal spray up the old nostrils, Q-tip the ears, brush the teeth, moisturize the face, deodorize the pits, then I go to get on the computer for a minute. (now you know my routine...riveting isn't it?) When I come back into the bathroom to do make up and hair stuff I hear it. Splashy splashy slosh slosh. So, they're STILL in the tub? Or is this a second person in the tub? What is going on up there? I need to know!

Speaking of moisturizing the face, I've messed up my face. I've recently become obsessed with the thought that I look old and so I bought this new stuff for my face that is supposed to erase the signs of time and make you look young and shiny and new. Now, I don't know about you guys, but I would think that a burning sensation on my skin and dry, flaky skin around my mouth and forehead areas would actually work to make me look even older. So, that experiment is over and back on my lovely normal face lotion I went. For faces that don't need to look any different than they already do.

It is now February. The month I've been waiting for. The month that the big filing can occur. And no, I'm not talking about my taxes. I'm talking about that other filing. The one that will move me back into the single column of forms. That happens this month. The filing part. The next step. Yeah.

And in other who gives a shit news, I'm going to a Super Bowl party. I don't care about football one single bit, but hey...I'm getting out of the house. I'll knock off all the dog hair, brush my hair, and go out amongst people. It'll be good. Go Giants!

I Never Met A Toby That I Didn't Like

2008-01-31T09:01:00.000-05:00

Yesterday morning I had to spend some time in a room where you wait on things to happen and they serve free coffee. While spending time in this room waiting for my particular thing to happen, I heard something so I turned my head to find the source. It was this man. Drinking his coffee. But not just taking drinks since it was hot. Oh no. Can't just sit there and let it cool or blow on it or anything. No. Let's take little sips and make that "frrrp" sound each time. And then do what looks like a chewing motion. Why he was chewing his coffee perplexed me so much that I watched him for a good solid ten minutes. Frrrp, chew, chew. Frrrrp, chew, chew. Frrrp, chew, chew. It was annoying and yet, I couldn't look away.

I have some Double Stuf Oreos at my house. Just look at that name. Double Stuf. So, not only do they acknowledge that they don't even know what that white stuff is in between the two chocolate-ish flavored cookies but they don't even spell it right! That makes it even more mysterious.

The other day I was doing my grocery shopping and as usual, one of the songs on the radio they play in grocery stores caught my mind and my body in it's grasp and I was compelled and unable to not sing along. Out loud. To Barry White. And I was caught! And she smiled and gave me the thumbs up, and I smiled and said "Busted" and kept on keeping on. It's best to just keep on keeping on in those situations. Why be embarrassed? You got the thumbs up!

If you've never thought to put bacon on a steak'um sub, I'm telling you now. You don't know what you're missing.

You may now go back to your regularly scheduled programming, already in progress...

Call Me Up Before You're Dead, We Can Make Some Plans Instead

2008-01-23T09:05:00.000-05:00

You know what has been getting on my nerves lately? The use of the phrase "real life" when talking to people online about your friends that live close by or that you grew up with. And yes, I've done it. I'm guilty of it. But recently it's gotten under my skin. Like...am I pretending to chat with you? Did Plimco and I just pretend to go camping? Have I really not had lunch with Maine? This is real life. I may not have met you, but I'm actually talking to you. In reality. About real stuff. We may actually meet someday. Real life stuff is happening! Not pretend. Real!

The things that bug me, I tell ya...

And the things that make me happy? Well, Monday night I was sitting quietly in my living room looking around wishing that Chuck would come back. I miss him. And then lo and behold I see it! Last night I'm sitting quietly in my bedroom with my TV on and I hear it. Chuck! All new Chuck on Thursday! That's tomorrow! And not just one....no....TWO! Two all new episodes of Chuck! Oh joyous day.

See? Easily bugged. Easily happy.

And If You Were A Kiss, I Know I'd Be A Hug

2008-01-22T09:14:00.000-05:00

I'm about to overdose on popcorn. I saw Cloverfield and Juno both this weekend! I'm social! I'm out of the house! I'm living my life and being a non-hermit and inter...oh. Yeah. Not so much with the interacting but dammit! I'm out!

Cloverfield? Meh. Nothing to write home about. It's not horrid. Some people will probably leave the theatre and rave about it. Some people will probably leave the theatre and bitch about it. I left the theatre and mostly forgot about it. It was...meh. Best I can say. See it or don't...I don't care.

But Juno! Oh...love. I love this movie so much that I ran, RAN to Target and bought the soundtrack so I can hug it to me and try to soak in some of the wonderfulness of it. *sigh* I mean...it's got Buddy Holly on there. The artist, not the song. How can you not love a soundtrack that includes Buddy Holly? Come on now. I'm listening to it now. I love it. It hugs me with happy.

Before Cloverfield, I was paying attention to all the commercials, PSAs and previews that they show you before the official previews begin. One really stood out to me. An anti-smoking ad where this teenaged boy is talking about how when he stopped smoking, he reconnected with his Dad. So, I'm thinking, "oh this is a anti-pot PSA." Wrong. So wrong. Cigarettes. Plain old regular cigarettes strained this kid's relationship with his father to the point that they weren't speaking! Now, I'm not saying I'm for smoking. I'm not. I'm against it. Totally. But, I've never known anyone who wound up disowned by their parents because of some nicotine.

If you work the ticket counter at the movie theatre and someone walks up to you and happily and merrily and cheerfully says "I'd like one for Juno please" do not say "Just one?" The just is mean and unnecessarily. I'm not just one. I'm one! I'm fabulous. Give me my ticket and shut up.

One thing I did learn. If I plant myself at the very back row, right smack dab in the middle of the theatre, I will pretend that I am the ruler of that theatre and anyone who comes in after that becomes part of my army of minions. I don't know why this is. But it's true.

Another thing? When the pre-previews previews end and you know that the previews should start, every single person in the theatre, yourself included, will turn around to peek into that window that the movie is being projected out of as if that is going to fix it. Or at the very least you may believe that you'll figure out what the dealio is. Why aren't the previews coming on? The truth is? This motion, this turning to peek into that window, does nothing. Not one thing. But we all did it anyway.

Is it my imagination or does Wall-E look like Johnny 5? I can't watch the trailer for Wall-E and not hear "Number 5 is alive!" in my head. I just can't. I've tried! And, since we're on the subject...am I the only one that found Steve Guttenberg to be dreamy? Please tell me I'm not...please!

Have you seen the trailer for Iron Man?!?!? Holy shit. I can't wait.

Have you seen anything on the new Knight Rider? Seems KITT is no longer a Trans Am, which Pontiac doesn't produce anymore if I'm not mistaken. But, a Mustang? I'm all for Mustangs. I've had one. Loved it. But, I don't know. I'm having a hard time with this. Not sure why.

And um...well. That may just be it.

She Walked In Through The Out Door, Out Door

2008-01-17T10:17:00.000-05:00

You know what pisses me off irrationally? The fact that all of my HaloScan comments are gone and apparently gone forever. When I had to hide my blog last year I switched back to Blogger comments for silly reasons and I thought that my HaloScan comments would always be there for me. I liked those comments. There were some good ones there. Good discussions. I like a good discussion. And now? GONE! Poof! Vanished. Pisses me off.

That's it. Just wanted to complain outside of my own head for a minute. The head, it is full of gripes!

Pretty Eyed, Pirate Smile

2008-01-16T09:32:00.000-05:00

Since I got caught up and oh so enjoyed being caught up in a Dancing With The Stars stronghold, I was excited to give The Dance Wars a shot. Naturally, since I'm obsessive, I'll finish out the whole season. But...I find it to be cheesy. Totally cheesy. None of the singers have wowed me. None of the guys stand out to me in any way other than a Ken doll type way and the girls...well...nobody comes to mind. I'm sure they'll get better. That's the nature of shows like this. I was just surprised at the Busch Gardens Entertainers feel I get from all of them. Not that I could be a Busch Gardens Entertainer, I have zero musical talent unless you count Guitar Hero and I don't think you can even though I totally and completely ROCK at Guitar Hero. Anyway, Dance Wars is cheesy. That's my verdict.

And much to my own chagrin I canceled my fairly impressive for me boycott of FOX and watched American Idol last night. One question...who sedated Simon? Really? Has he mellowed? Is this what I can expect? And why did they give the glitter face girl so much screen time? She wasn't really dissed that hard by the judges. Her rant was less than ranty in any really good ranty way. And why all the sad stories? Why? Is this going to be like Jane Seymour bringing out all of her dead friends to get votes on Dancing With The Stars? I mean...yeah, the stories were sad. But hells bells people, we all have at least one sad tale of woe we can weave. Just get through it on your talent. Save the sad tale of woe for People magazine later on. Sheesh. But talent! Yes. There was some talent. There were some, what seemed to be, nice people. I'm already kinda sorta glad I watched.

I haven't really met any of my neighbors. We've seen each other. I've said hi. I've apologized for my dog barking too damned much. They've all told me it's fine. But, as to what they do or what their names are? I have no idea. Probably never will. But the people who live directly above me intrigue me. For, when I get home from work they are up there walking around. When I go to bed? Walking around. If I wake up in the middle of the night? Walking around. When I wake in the morning, regardless of time? Walking around. I've decided that it's a team of walking arounders that are in training and they each have a shift in walking around and they just walk and walk and walk all the day long preparing for some sort of event that one would need to have great stamina in walking around for. A state fair? A trip to Disney World? A marathon for walkers? The cancer walk thing? Something. There has to be some reason why they are constantly in motion up there. OR! Maybe they're shark people. Don't sharks have to stay in motion at all times? Hmmm. A family of land sharks. I'm gonna have to find out...

When one keeps telling oneself that they are fine and that they are not sad but then they watch movies like Knocked Up and The Simpsons Movie and they find themselves crying because of the love, one needs to wake up and smell the sad. You can be fine and sad at the same time. Because I am. There. Happy? I said it. I'm sad. Fuckin' hell. Why can I say this here and not to the person who apparently needs to hear it so he can cease and desist with being such an ass? Why am I being so damned stubborn about this? It won't kill me to say "I'm OK...but...yeah. I'm sad." when asked how I am. When I can see it all over his face and his body language that he needs to hear that yeah...I'm sad. Because it is sad. And I should be sad. And I am sad. But I can't do it. The telling him that I am. I cannot bring myself to do it. I don't want to do it. For I am stubborn.

If you are ever feeling sad and crying while sitting in a drive thru waiting for the cute young dude to bring you your tall cup of warm minty chocolate liquidy stuff, you should make eye contact with that person. And you should listen when they say "I hope your day gets better." And you should realize that good people are out there. In unexpected places. At unexpected times. And you should keep that in a pocket in your mind for when you start to shut off from everyone. Info such as this, is important to have in a pocket. It really is.

I Have No Idea What I Am Talking About

2008-01-10T15:08:00.000-05:00

I've realized that moving out on my own has made me feel like quite the adult. I take out my own trash. I go to the grocery store. I walk the dogs. I clean up after myself. If I spill tea on the counter, I wipe it up. I changed the sheets on my bed. I pay my bills. I've paid off my debt. I've contemplated a savings account. I've killed some spiders. Did the same with some bugs. I report issues and follow up and get shit handled. I made hamburger helper the other night and did not find it to be terrific.

I am an adult.

And then last night I'm sitting there watching Wife Swap and one of the husbands complains that the swapped out wife is making him feel like all she's doing is demeanering him. And I laughed and I giggled and I marvelled about how this grown man said the word demeanering. On TV. And then I realized that I've lost my shot at being on Wife Swap. So I can't be on TV and show my normalcy and not use words like demeanering. And I got sad for a second. I didn't realize that I'd harbored dreams of being on the Swap.

Then I realized...I'm not that much of an adult. And I gave the hamburger helper another go. Not too bad...

In other news, it's apparently National De-lurking Day. So...stop it. Come on out of the shadows there and say hello. You're freaking me out. I see you, you know. All hiding and stuff and coming around all the time. Don't be shy. We don't bite. And I've probably got some hamburger helper to spare...

On And On I've Got Nothing To Hide

2008-01-08T13:38:00.000-05:00

So...it's question time. I have a question and I want to see how others feel about this. I know where I stand. And I'll tell you. I'm not shy about where I stand. First, the question:

Can guys and girls be just friends and nothing more OR is there always an underlying something else there?

Here's my stance - YES! Yes, guys and girls can be just friends without any underlying something else. I do not believe that if a guy is friends with me that there is a teeny tiny part of him that would really just enjoy sexing me up. I believe there can be truly platonic relationships between the sexes. Call me crazy, but that's what I believe.

If I go off to visit a female friend, I don't expect any hanky panky. So if I go off to visit one of my male friends, I have the same expectations. A good time spent with a friend. Nothing more.

OK...disclaimer....I've sexed up one of my friends. He doesn't count in this. Circumstances and blah blah blah. I have way more than one male friend. So there. But I had to disclaim! Moving on...

So, am I an idiot? Or is this really something that can be achieved. True friendship between a guy and a girl without any thoughts of sexin' between the two?

We Sweat And Laugh And Scream Here

2008-01-04T08:58:00.000-05:00

You know that part in Seven where they have found John Doe's apartment but he got away and they go back to look for evidence and they find all of his journals and Morgan Freeman, I mean Detective Somerset, sits down and starts reading them out loud and it's all about how John Doe observes people and jots down his thoughts about them and one person was so pathetic that he just laughed and laughed and laughed and then realized he was throwing up all over?

Yeah.

Sometimes I feel kinda like that, minus the crazy and the vomit, when I'm out in the world observing. Watching. Making notes with my eyes. Jotting down little notes on scrap pieces of paper to share here and there. Have things to talk about. Things to say "what was this asshole thinking?" about. And...does this make me a bad person? Am I just a couple of talks with the voices in my head away from offing a bunch of lazy people who like to eat Baconators and get their groove on with hookers?

And more importantly... how many of them are doing it to me? Watching me. Making notes about me. Asking themselves "What is this asshole thinking?" in regards to me. In that last sentence, I'm the asshole! How did that happen?

If I were to read every single blog/myspace/facebook/blah blah whatever posting on the planet...would I eventually run across a story that is so familiar. Just so very familiar and me that I'm like...wait a minute. That was me! And then I'm all upset and stuff that someone had the audacity to watch me and tell my story when I should have been telling it myself.

I'm sure I'd tell it better. Who can tell my story better than me? I bet they wouldn't even use all the ellipses that I'm fond of when they tell it. How can you tell my story without an overabundance of them? Sheesh...

Even Though I Told Them Not To

2007-12-31T18:38:00.000-05:00

When I first started up this here silly assed blog of mine I would from time to time express that I was looking for or missing something. I toyed with different theories. I was looking for friends. I was looking for a way to pass the time. I was missing the flirt of a new relationship. I was missing this, that or the other.

I've recently realized what I was truly looking for. And I've found it. And what an awesome way to end the year than to embrace it and move on and accept happiness.

I was looking for and missing Me. Yup. It's as simple as that. Me.

See, somewhere along the line I realized that Me, I, wasn't what my husband was wanting/needing at the time. Sure he feel in love with Me. He married Me. Me and He were happy for a bit. But...I don't know what changed. There was never any conversation. There was never any tangible thing I can put my finger on and say "That...that is what he said that made me realize that I needed to change to keep him happy." But I'm a smart girl.

So my brain, without letting the rest of me in on it, adapted. Changed. Became what would make him happy. And it worked. He was. And I was. Until I wasn't.

I didn't know, like...consciously know, that I wasn't happy. I can see it now. When I read my old posts it's all over the place. When I think about my attitude and my general frame of mind the past two or so years, it was there. I wasn't happy. And I needed to sort it out. And for some reason I did it here. In a public forum. Which can seem silly. But...it seems it was what I needed. Exactly what I needed.

See...as I came here and I wrote and I opened up and it became a daily thing....Me came back. More and more of me, day after day. And I became happy. And I met people. And these people liked Me. And it re-enforced in my brain that Me is good. Me is alright. Me is super! And that I need to be Me. For Me.

So I did.

More and more Me became I and we held hands and we began to co-exist. And as I returned to Me, a divide began to grow. And I ignored it. Because he loved Me at one time. It can't be Me that's causing this.

And I told myself it was this. And I told myself it was that. And I created all of these other things in my mind that it could be. And I went to therapy to make sure in my own head that Me and I were happy. That Me is what I really wanted. And my therapist even said "You are fine. You do not need me. You are on the right track."

And I paid attention. And I thought about things. And I waited. And I grew strong. And I said what needed to be said. And now I am Me and Me alone.

And Me is what I need. Me is who I am. Me is who my family loves. Me is who my friends love. And who my friends missed. Me. I missed Me. But Me is back. Me and I are one. And I am happy.

So today I need to say good-bye to her. The one I became. The one I became to keep him happy. For I loved him. And I wanted to keep him happy. But I couldn't bare to not let Me be happy as well. We both deserve to be happy. Me. Him. I. And we are. All of us. And what better place to be is there than that?

Thank you all for continuing to be here for me. Your friendship and your encouragement means more to me than I can truly express. You have all given me the strength to allow Me to accept the return of Me and embrace her and love her once again. Thank you.

Happy New Year to you all.

Used To Laugh And Call Him Names

2007-12-28T23:08:00.000-05:00

So...yeah. That was the week of Christmas fun and merriment. And it has been. Fun. And merry. And who am I to let one little day of melancholy take all of that away? Nobody! But...indulge me for a second...

I'm fine. Honest. Really. I'm nodding my head when I say it. I'm smiling. For, it's true. I'm fine. And I don't really miss him. Not daily. And I don't really care about what I'm about to say....but....there's a nagging feeling of....something...

He apparently has a lady friend. From what I gather her appearance matches the appearance of all his lady friends prior to me. Which, for some silly reason on this dreary, grey, rainy day, has me feeling a bit...something.

It's the rain. Gotta be the rain. For, I've had a nice time. And I've spent time with friends. And people who love me. And people who were happy to see me. And I acted like the bigger person. And I proved myself to be a mature adult. And I've acknowledged that yes, I am a resonable person despite my best efforts to make everyone believe I'm a neurotic mess of loonytude. I'm fine. Fine fine fine.

And I'd not given this any thought. Not one. Not really. For I was having fun. And merriment.

So, why am I letting the knowledge that he's gone back to his former "style" of chick bother me? Letting it make me feel like I've somehow failed those of us who are a little taller. And not blonde. And not stick thin. And doesn't want to pay for bigger boobs. And who enjoys using sarcasm in not only everyday life, but every single conversation they participate in. Like, he gave that model a go and he found it's not for him.

I know this isn't true. I've not failed. He's free to meet new chickies. As am I. And I was fine. Until it rained. And was grey. And I let the chill seep into my belly. And create a knot. A knot that not even crying would disperse. And then the whispered thought into my own brain about her appearance and how it matches almost exactly his standard chicky from before. And what does this mean. And why was he with me? And whine whine piss moan whine.

I certainly am as fun as a big ol'barrel of rabid monkeys aren't I? Blame it on the rain. That's what Milli Vanilli did. You know that's why they lip synched, right? The rain. They couldn't sing due to the rain. Made their throats tender. Yeah...

Just Trying To Get By

2007-12-20T14:57:00.000-05:00

I've started going to Starbucks every damned morning for something evil yet delicious called a Peppermint Hot Chocolate. I even sorta tried to scold myself for spending $3.79 each morning on a hot chocolate when I have perfectly good Special K cereal at home already paid for. As appealing as that argument may sound (recognize the sarcasm), it did not work. For then the part of my mind that really just wants me to be happy said "You're totally worth almost $4 a day. Live it up!" So I do. And yes, I do know how ridiculous it is that I'm paying damn near $4 for hot chocolate. But...yeah, no but. It's rigoddamnediculous.

And because I'm way too lazy to write any more than that, go see me here. Then go here and check out the rest of the grievances. Especially this one. It is thus far my fav.