Tuesday, March 31, 2009

Being Me

When I'm alone, I like to wear nothing but pajama bottoms and a bra and dance around my house with the music blaring as loud as I think I can put it without being evicted from my apartment.

I listen to Franz Ferdinand or Sam Roberts or Korn. Actually I listen to hundreds of bands/artists when I do this. It's different every time. But I can tell you I never listen to dance or club music when I do this. They don't play U2 at the fucking club.

I've been doing this for years and years... since I was like 10 probably. Except back when I was a little kid I'd lock myself in my bedroom and dance to backstreet boys haha.

One time in high school somebody from my school was driving by my house and she saw me dancing all weird in the living room. (When I dance by myself I am completely uninhibited!) This girl already hated me and made fun of me all the time and this just added more to her ammunition against me.

I remember her saying, "Oh she looks like she's having fun" and then throwing her head back and laughing her fat ass off because she thought I was the most retarded person on the planet.

I wasn't mortified... I wasn't proud either. I was having fun though. I was having the best time ever. When I dance stupidly by myself I have an awesome time! It's so fun. I just do fucked up dance moves that only my cats witness.

I feel like myself.

But right now I feel like a loser. I feel like I did in high school: awkward and alone. A bunch of young interns at my work are all best friends for life and I'm envious because I'm not friends with anyone from work. I get along with everyone at work, but I mean, we don't do after work activities together because most of them are married with kids and have grey hairs.

They pick each other up from their houses... they go out for dinner... they go out for drinks... they make me fucking sick.

The logical thing to do would be to just wedge myself in there and start asking if I can come, or suggest something for us to do... you know, what normal people do.

Unfortunately, this is not an option for me. I'm too doubtful and pessimistic. Plus, I never hang out with this people from work and never have a reason to talk to them about work stuff because we don't work together ever.

I am pathetic. I know. I'm truly a loser. I'm just like I was in high school. So I'm dancing. I'm dancing my fucking heart right now and singing at the top of my lungs to Robbie Williams, Seal, and You Say Party We Say Die! I'm dancing and I am myself and I feel like myself.

I just wish I could let others see me in my natural habitat. I wish I wasn't so afraid to let others see the real me. I guess I just feel like the real me isn't good enough.

And is it good enough? I don't know. Maybe. Sometimes. I don't know.

Sunday, March 29, 2009

Pen Pals

I feel like I should write a new post, but I'm unsure what to write about.

I've been feeling rather anti-social as of late. I've been sick and worn out. I tire easily and just want to stay at home and write to my pen pals in prison. I want more pen pals. This one pen pal I have in the Louisiana State Pentitentiary is such an amazing person! I love reading letters from him. He's as old as my dad and has much to say about the world. It's very interesting.

My other pen pal in Nevada State Prison might masturbate to the picture I sent to him of me... I'm not sure though... he's kind of creepy.

I used to have to pen pal in Australia that I was paired with while enrolled in Girl Guides. It was cool at the time. Pen pals were really popular then.

With the advent of the internet, there's no need to pen a friend. You can just go into a Spanish chat room or something and chat with whoever and it doesn't cost you anything.

I used to do that a lot actually. I'd enter some international chat room and use Babblefish Translater from altavista.com to help me translate. It was cool.

I'd love to learn a second language. I'd want to learn French or German. I know a little bit of French from what I learned in elementary school, but I can't form proper sentences or conjugate verbs.

After learning French I'd travel abroad and spend the summer in France with a hot beau haha.

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Two Hookers and an 8 Ball!

I love going to concerts. I went to Propagandhi and Mindless Self Indulgence this week. It was the best time!

For MSI, I just went fucking crazy rocking out so hard! I was wearing 3 layers of shirts and all of them soaked right through. I was drenched in sweat like I'd jumped in a swimming pool!

I love that.

I love that so much. I love live music!

I forgot my earplugs though. I always wear earplugs when I go to concerts because I don't want to damage my hearing and the ringing in my ears is just too much bear. I already have insomnia; I don't need my fucking ears to be ringing all the time, too. I go to a lot of shows.

Unlike some other people I know (The BF) I'm not counting on modern medical advancements to give my irreplaceable hearing back in my old age (or middle age probably for The BF)

Anyway, my ex-bf was at MSI. It turned out to be okay though. I thought he was going to be bringing his slut-bitch with him but he didn't which was a relief. I spent hours worrying about the horrible confrontation we'd most likely have.

Gawd I hate her so much. We were enemies, then we became friends, then I had to write her a polite email stating I'd like to discontinue our friendship (because she is fucking crazy!)

Anyway, she's immature. She likes to spit on me, push me, dump her drink on me, try to fight me. I have my very own bully. Lovely.

And I call her slut-bitch because she was sleeping with my ex before and after my ex and I broke up. She loves him and he only wants sex from her so it's funny. If she wasn't such a bitch all the time, I'd feel sorry for her. Plus, she's actually morbidly obese and the only time she gets people to have sex with her - and by people I mean her 3 friends that are male - is when they are both drunk. It's pathetic.

The last thing I want to say, if you don't know who Mindless Self Indulgence is click this link MSI

The lead singer is double plus good. And sexy. Sooooo sexy. I would fuck him in a god damn heart beat! And at the concert, he started taking his clothes off, I felt like I was 13 at a Backstreet Boy concert. JC he is yummy!

Saturday, March 21, 2009

Partial Insomnia Remedy

Yesterday I called in sick for my shift that I was supposed to have today. Then I went to a concert. I shouldn't have gone because I was sick, but that's a waste of money and there was no one else to take the ticket and I really wanted to go. I had booked the day off work to go!

Now today, I don't feel sick at all. I could have actually gone to work, but I'd already called in sick. I have to work tomorrow which sucks, but it's nice to get some time off.

To alleviate my insomnia, I'm trying a few new things. I bought a CD at Shoppers Drug Mart for $10. You know those little music kiosk things where you can preview different CD's for sale. The cover art for all the CDs are buttons that you push and it starts to play the CD for you.

Anyway, there was one called Dream Surf. I pushed it and it was the sound of the ocean waves crashing against the shore. I bought it. My other purchases were Vaseline, condoms, kinder surprise chocolates, and cold medication. I always wonder what the cashier is thinking when she's ringing through my items.

I put the CD on before bed and popped some Nyquil pills. The effect was wondrous! What an awesome sleep. I woke up once at 5 am but fell back asleep within a few minutes.

The next night I played the CD again, but instead of taking Nyquil I rubbed Vicks Vapo Rub on my throat and chest and I took some other pills. They're called Relax and Sleep pills. It's a variety of herbal type stuff. Catnip, passionflower, and some other things. Anyway, those knocked me out pretty good! I slept the whole night through and it was awesome! The last time I slept for 10 straight hours, I must have been in high school.

Normally it takes me about an hour to 2 hours to fall asleep after going to bed, even though I'm feeling very tired. I usually wake up at least twice during the night and it will take me anywhere from ten minutes to an hour to fall back asleep again.

These Relax and Sleep pills aren't supposed to be taken daily. The bottle says "Only to be taken occasionally." Occasionally isn't a very exact reference of time. Perhaps they could have written, take once a week, or, do not exceed X amount of pills a month. You know, something with a better frame of reference.

To me, occasionally means once a month.

I want to take these pills ever day. Are they addicting? I'm not sure. Catnip is like light marijuana isn't it? If I had it my way I'd toke up every night before bed!

I know people can start to rely on sleeping pills too heavily and then are unable to sleep with out them, but the way I see it, these people are taking sleeping pills for a reason ie: can't sleep, and so how could somebody know for sure that they were addicted to sleeping pills? Maybe there are people who need sleeping pills every night in order to get proper rest?

I've had trouble sleeping all my life, for as far back as I can remember.

Apparently insomnia isn't a "sickness" it's a symptom. I wonder why my insomnia is a symptom of if I've had it all my life?

Sunday, March 15, 2009

Hone Your Craft

I've been writing a lot of draft blogs lately and then deleting them because they get too long and rambly and I don't want to edit them to make them shorter or end them properly. So I just delete them.

If you had a specific skill, would you not want to "hone your craft?"
If you were a photographer, wouldn't you want to take pictures of everything, even if it was of content you weren't particularily interested in, just because it would be good practice, it would get your name out there, and all around improve your skill?

If you were a carpentor, would you say, no I don't want to build a barn... I only build houses. Or if you were a mechanic would you say, no I don't want to fix trucks... I only fix cars.

So, as a photographer, who shoots mainly action and portrait shots, (the other genres of photography are landscapes and weddings,) if you were offered a free VIP pass to an event you wouldn't normally attend, what does it matter that you don't like what's going on at the event?

Isn't it enough to shoot something because you like to use your camera and it gives you exposure, so that one day you can make money off photography like you've always planned?

I had 2 VIP passes once. I offered one away. It was thrown back in my face. Whatever. His loss. Obviously he doesn't want to be a professional photographer that bad!

No, he'd rather sit on his ass watching TV than go do something he loves; even if he doesn't love what he's shooting. It's about capturing moments. It's about telling a story. It's about money.

How can you capture moments, tell a story, and make money by sitting on your ass? When somebody gets hired for this position, please tell me how you did it because the entire world is dying to know.

Saturday, March 14, 2009

Reason Unknown

I know I'm having some sort of problem or issue with depression, but for the life of me, I can't figure out what it is, at least by myself. I don't know what's causing it. I don't know why I feel depressed all the time. I don't know how to make it stop. Some days it would just be easier to end it all, but I can't figure out why and it's driving me mental.

Normally people have a reason, at least one good reason, for feeling depressed and angry. Sometimes I just cry for no reason and I stop myself and ask myself, hey, why are you being like this? What set you off? And I honestly can't explain it. I try to think back to how I was feeling before, but I draw a blank. I just want to feel better.

I want to get the help of a professional, but I'm afraid of sounding stupid on the phone when I book the appointment. I'm afraid that once I get to the appointment and start trying to explain myself that I'm going to look like a complete moron who's wasting everyone's time. I hate crying in front of others. I hate looking dumb. I hate talking to strangers on the phone!

Everything happens for a reason. Not in a fatalist type way, but I mean in a scientific type way. I am not depressed for no reason. It feels like it, but that's untrue. I want to determine the reason why.

These are the symptoms I've noticed developing in myself in the last 4 years.

- depression
- insomnia
- anxiety
- loss of appetite
- migraines

I need to eat better. I need to exercise more. I need to get a proper night's sleep. I need to keep my house clean.

I'm working on it, I'm working on it. I keep 2 blogs and a fucking journal plus 2 pen pals! I joined a gym. I even had a personal trainer until that got fucked up. I go to bed at midnight (usually.) I drink plenty of water throughout the day.

I need to stick to a fucking routine. I need to get my shit together. I'm trying, I'm trying.

I need to book an appointment with a therapist. I know, I know. I'm ashamed. I don't want to tell people. I don't want people to know. But if everyone knew then it would be so much easier.

My cat just scratched me... it hurts and it's bleeding... but it feels good at the same time, like it's pulled me back down to reality. I'm going to go to sleep while I'm still numb.

Thursday, March 12, 2009

All About Cats

I spend an awful lot of time with my cats. I think of them and treat them as my children. I love them each in their special way. The littlest kitty is starting to recognize his name finally. Because I spend an exorbitant amount of time with my feline companions, I like to think of myself as a kind of amateur expert on raising cats.

It takes a hell of a lot of time, but you CAN train cats. It's not hard; it just takes repetition. Many people don't have the patience because cats seem to just do whatever the hell they want. That is true... cats do whatever they want. Here's the trick: To make cats do what YOU want, you have to make it seem like it was THEIR idea.

If you set up booby traps around your house, it will not only deter your cat from exhibiting a certain behaviour, but will eventually make them stop altogether because no human was directly involved in the deterrence process. The cat stops because it wanted to.

You can put tape on the sides and edges of your counter and table to stop the cat from jumping up. Cats hate the feeling of stickiness and after getting its hair stuck a few times, it will decide it doesn’t actually want to do that anymore. Even after you remove the tape, the cat still won’t jump up because it will remember why it stopped and just won’t bother trying again.

When you are unable to use this tape method, you can also try tin foil. Cats don’t like the way tin foil feels, so wrapping it around objects you don’t want your cat to scratch usually reverses the behaviour. You have to leave the tin foil up consistently for at least 2 months, sometimes longer, so the cat can get used to scratching something else. Once you notice the cat is in the habit of scratching somewhere else, it’s safe to take the foil down.

Cats hate spicy! A third option is sprinkle cayenne pepper on spots you want your cat to avoid. Putting pepper in your potted plants (alliteration woo!) will make cats stop digging in your flowers.

One of my cats liked scratching my mattress. I didn’t feel comfortable putting tape on the fabric, so I tried wrapping tin foil around the exposed parts of the mattress the cat was scratching. The cat stopped scratching the mattress, but then started chewing on the tin foil and making a mess under my bed, so I combined tactics. I placed 2 small saucers filled with cayenne and black pepper under my bed to keep the cat away from the area altogether. It worked!

I’ve since taken down the foil and removed the pepper, but my cat has already decided for himself that he doesn’t want to go over there and has found a new spot to scratch.

Not having to yell or physically remove the cat from a situation is so nice. All I had to do was help the cat want to avoid the area my making it as undesirable as possible for him.

Another way to get your point across to your cat is to speak to it in its own language.
Aside from reading hundreds of parenting articles, I also read hundreds of cat articles.

Cats speak to other cats with their body language. The positioning of the tail, ears, eyes, and body all come together to form different meanings, which are easily interpreted by other cats (obviously,) but for humans, some of the nuances completely go over our heads.

Good thing cats are smart though. Cats understand that humans are extremely verbal and so cats have developed a language to speak to us in. Cats give humans - and any animals nearby - body language signals all the time. Other animals like dogs are able to pick up on the body language quicker than humans. If an animal is really missing the point, the cat adds a verbal que as well like a hiss if it wants the other animal to stay away.

In the wild, cats don't communicate verbally at all. But, since being domesticated, cats have had to find a way to tell humans what they want. I think there's a range of something like 25 sounds a cat could make to try to tell you what it wants to convey.

Listening to the pitch and tone of the sound can really help determine what your cat wants or needs. Shorter, higher pitched sounds are usually a greeting to you. A longer chirp is a sign of playfulness and friendliness. A chatter sound is reserved for hunting prey, or being excited by something outside, usually a bird. A short mew could by a cry for food or attention. A longer, louder, drawn out meow is a sign of distress. And of course, growling and hissing are warning sounds to stay away.

Contrary to popular belief, purring doesn’t always mean happy! Cats purr on their deathbed too. When cats purr with their eyes closed or half open that usually means contentment. But, if a cat is purring with its eyes wide open and ears perked up, that means its probably nervous and purring is actually a way for a cat to self-soothe.

A cat will purr when it’s sick or injured as a way to self-soothe too. It’s just like sucking your thumb.

Some cats might experiment with different sounds until it gets what it wants. Once a cat does get what it wants, it will associate the sound it used with the attention received and the next time the cat makes that sound, it will expect to receive the same attention as last time.

So, as a human, if you want certain behaviour from your cat, you need to always use the same sounds and body language so that your cat can remember and understand what you want too!

A big problem I used to have with both my cats is they like to stick their heads in cups and drinking glasses and knock them over, often spilling the contents everywhere. Scaring them away from the cup with loud noises or clapping never seemed to work. Using tape, tin foil, and especially pepper was out of the question. I had to think of a different way to let them know I wanted them to stop.

Apparently, if your cat seems to think it’s okay to steal food off your plate, hissing at them is a way to tell them to stop in its own language. In the wild it’s considered impolite for a cat to steal from another cat that is higher up in society. The dominating cat will hiss and even start a physical fight with the rude cat to put him in his place.

I decided I would try it. I practiced hissing alone, but found I couldn’t master making the sound properly. What I do instead is this: When one of my cats approaches my cup and starts sniffing around to see what’s inside, I blow a short breath in his face as if I’m blowing up a balloon. My teeth are clenched and I let the air go through my teeth so a bit of saliva lands on my cat’s face. This makes the cat instantly take a step back and glare at me. I make sure to glare back without losing eye contact and blow in his face again to reinforce my point. I never need to blow more than three times.

When cats hiss at each other, sometimes they spit at the same time. When I blow on my cats face, the moisture of my breath, combined with the bit of saliva that hits them is the equivalent of hissing and spitting. It’s cat language for fuck off, this is mine, plus it reminds my cats that I am still the boss and they cannot dominate me no matter how hard they try!

Tuesday, March 10, 2009


I read parenting articles for fun.
I honestly enjoy reading about child rearing tactics, age-appropriate discipline, healthy snack foods, and cognitive development!

I love kids so much. In this past year I've heard about so many people I know getting pregnant and it drives me mad because a part of me wish it was I who was pregnant.

The BF isn't ready. Obviously. Why should he be? He thoroughly enjoys being an immature adult to the fullest extent.

Having a baby doesn't make you mature. It makes you think that you probably should mature, and so you do because you think you have to.

Well, you do have to mature slightly I suppose.

To satisfy my need to be around children I’ve decided to volunteer for Big Brothers and Big Sisters. I sent in my application form today online. I’m really, really excited. I keep thinking about it and smiling.

I’ve been meaning to apply for a few years, but I didn’t have a stable enough routine before. School took up all of my time and it wouldn’t be fair to the little one.

For the past hour I’ve been on the Internet researching things to do in my city. From an adult standpoint, I know of many adult things to do in the city, but not a lot of “Family Fun” type things.

Of course there’s all the museums and tours and junk like that, which I’m all about. I’m a total sucker for that stuff, but it can cost a lot of money. As a volunteer, you’re encouraged to do activities that don’t revolve around money so much; like, play sports together.

I hate sports.

I love board games. I must own fifty board games by now. Oh my gawd, if I could be paired up with a kid who likes to play board or card games I am set!

And if my little buddy is nerdy like me and likes the library and baking cookies, and arts and crafts, and being in nature I will probably want to adopt her as my own!

There’s so much fun stuff to do that you can’t really do with other adults unless you add the work “drunk” in front of it. Drunken Bowling. Drunken Mini Golf.

I know as an adult I have never called up a few friends and asked them if they wanted to go to the zoo with me, or if they wanted to go to the roller rink. But, when you’re with a kid, it’s actually pretty fun.

I’m really looking forward to this!

I was really fortunate as a child to have a mother that actually took me places. I remember going to all the museums, different indoor swimming pools, beaches, hiking, the theatre, children’s events and concerts, the circus, the zoo!

A lot of kids don’t have that growing up. A lot of kids are stuck at home all summer and never know what it feels like to travel, or go boating, or explore some place new. I was a shy little kid and was perfectly happy never leaving my bedroom, but I’m really glad my mom forced me out into the world because in the end she was right. I had fun and I learned stuff.

I hope whomever I’m paired up with will have fun and learn stuff too.

Sunday, March 8, 2009

Drunk Blog

Hi, I'm drunk.

I'm going to bed now. Good bye.

Thursday, March 5, 2009


Like the wind, I'm wild or gentle.
Like the sea, I'm tempermental.

That describes me perfectly.

I heard it on a Pop mix CD I bought when I was young. It's stuck with me. I think I'd like to get the verse tatooed on me.

I have horrible mood swings. It's quite easy to set me off, though it's not always noticable. I am able to keep it under wraps. I also have an insatiable dark side and am incredibly violent, even when in a perfectly good mood.

I like to punch and to receive punches. I like the feeling of being hit or pushed. The BF has never been violent with me, but I've punched him in the arm out of anger. (and in the stomach out of sillines because it's funny watching him double over in pain)

I like to be choked during intercourse (as part of my asphyxiation complex.) I have never been choked out before though.

But when you meet me, I'm not dressed in black. I don't wear excessive amounts of black eyeliner, or tacky, stripped wristbands. I don't have a streak of random unnatural colour in my hair, or cover one eye with long bangs.

I look normal. I wear normal people clothes. Visually, I don't stand out in anyway. I have all these weird things on the inside though. Things I've stopped trying to share with others because they don't understand and they think I'm some freak.

I'm not the freak. Everybody's had fucked up thoughts before. It's normal. It's just that nobody talks about it. Maybe they're ashamed... afraid... I choose not to share my thoughts mostly because I'm afraid of being judged.

My thoughts aren't evil... they're more violent. I often imagine myself torturing others and being disgustingly inhumane. I suppose inhumanity could be considered evil. I like the idea of unorthodox social experiments that would ruin somebody's life. Like that guy who was born a male, but his penis got cut off during circumsision so they gave him hormones and tried to turn him into girl. What sort of sick people would do that? I'm not surprised he killed himself cause that's fucked up. He worked with my dad at Maple Leaf for a while.

I like what Vince Li did to Tim McLean from a sociological stand point. The outrage, the false terror, the gruesomeness. The witnesses are still having nightmares all these months later.

Would I have nightmares too? Would I be traumatized? Is there a single witness who wasn't traumatized?

What's it like to see a severed head? It's probably the most disgusting thing ever.

On the other side of the scale, I think about humanity. Sometimes I cry thinking about the days top new stories, like if somebody died, or their house burned down.

I think about the world and I how I want to save it. I give money to all the homeless people who ask. I pick up every hitch hiker I see. If the industry I'm in now fails me, I'd like to start my own daycare and run it out of my home. I love children and I want them to grow up less fucked up than me. I wish I could adopt every abandoned cat and dog and we'd all live in the country together.

Me, my lover/husband person, the homeless people, the homeless animals, and my daycare children will live happily ever after, under a rainbow, eating fresh food from our garden, learning all these sweet skills from our nature hikes together. We'll train our pets to be our awesome friends with skills too! And we'll be millionaires because we have our own reality TV show documenting our wonderful life.

When I was super young I actually thought about this concept a lot.

So those are my extremes and this scale applies to all my relationships and everything in my life. My job, my car, my house.

I only blog about one side of the scale. I'm sorry I'm not more unbiased and don't provide the positive outlook. Happy thoughts can be shared with anyone because everyone likes happy thoughts. Nobody likes unhappy thoughts and that's where this blog comes in.

I love my boyfriend. We share similiar interests in politics, music, tv shows, family values, money/investing, and all that good stuff. We are actually quite compatible and he's still the best roommate I've ever had. He'll make a good daddy one day (once I'm brave enough to poke holes. haha kidding.) and he still tells me he loves me, even when he's mad at me.

I have high hopes for our future together as well as many doubts. I express the doubts in this blog frequently, but my life's not that bad. The doubts are real, don't get me wrong. I strongly feel as though domestic chores will be the death of us, but I'm thankful that's the only thing working against us. Fuck, I'd rather our biggest argument be about the dishes than a coke or gambling addiction!

January, February, March are the peak of my undiagnosed seasonal affective disorder too. The depression makes me feel like life is worse than what it actually is, or used to think it was.

Depression, mixed with anxiety, mixed with violent thoughts equals suicide. I've learned that if I just keep struggling along it will eventually pass. I bet once summer hits I won't write a single entry.

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

All The Small Things

Everyone knows it's the little things that count.

I try very hard not be trivial because I'm the type who always wants to exact my revenge, no matter how stupid the situation is.

When The BF leaves his things lying around I gather them all in a big pile and drop them inside his studio in the middle of the floor. His numerous cables get all tangled up. I once unplugged the internet. Guitar picks left on the floor get swept up and thrown away. When he doesn't turn his alarm off in the morning before showering I unplug his clock instead of turning it off. I let the cats scratch his leather couch when he's not around.

It's trivial. It's stupid things. Sure, I could wrap his cables nicely and place his belongings neatly on his (messy) desk. But, I like listening to him complain about having to untangle his cables.
"Well, you should have put them away nicely then," I say.

Sure, I could bend over and pick up every penny, every tiny screw, every guitar pick. But why should I? If these things were important to him, he should have picked them up himself when he dropped them. I smile every time he can't find his guitar picks and has to buy more.
"You should be more organized then," I say.

When he leaves his alarm clock on I unplug it because I don't know how to turn it off. Plus, my sleep is being disturbed and he should know to turn it off in the mornings if he doesn't want to reprogram it every day. Also, it's just courteous.

As for the couch - I just really don't like it. The more ruined it gets the more likely we are to purchase a new one,(and hopefully with HIS money.)

I always say, "Maybe if you cleaned their litter box everyday like you're supposed to, they wouldn't be mad at you and scratch your couch."

It's a stretch, but it's possible.

So, as you see, I take what I can get. It isn't much, but my small, cruel acts help to offset his big lack of responsibility around the house and make me feel as though I'm getting even. I don't plan on taking any major steps because everyone knows it's the little things that count.

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

Fatter Bitter Future

I want to hold you close
Skin pressed against me tight
Lie still, close your eyes girl
So lovely, it feels so right

I want to hold you close
Soft breath, beating heart
As I whisper in your ear
"I wanna fucking tear you apart"

Tear You Apart - By She Wants Revenge

--- * * * ---

That's The BF's cell phone ring; One of them anyway. It's a good song, but I always hear the last bit of the chorus every day and it wears on you. Right now he's trying to sleep. I was just on Facebook doing things so that his phone will ring while he's trying to sleep. He gets everything sent to his phone. Loser.

My boyfriend is such a jerk and I have serious doubts about marriage. We have 364 days to go! Fuck that! He is so untidy and so unwilling to be more tidy. He is unwilling to help with chores around the house, especially dishes and laundry.

This morning I woke up at 7:30 am and cleaned the entire bathroom, the sink, the disgusting toilet, and I even dusted the ledges around the tub. I swept the kitchen, the pantry, and the dining room. I cleaned the litter boxes (which is The BF's job he rarely does until I nag him) I actually washed out the litter boxes with soap and bleach and gave the kitties fresh litter!

I didn't have breakfast. I got ready for work in record time and caught the bus at 9:55 am.

I did so much this morning. The BF comes home and does nothing. He usually wakes up at 6:45 and arrives at work at 7:30. Today he had to start work at 6:30 am for a special meaning. He showed up late. Figures.

So, I wake up an hour and a half after him and I'm still able to clean the house up a bit and make it to work 10 minutes early! I went to bed at midnight like I always do. If he knew he had a special early morning meeting, why did he go to bed at like 1 in the morning? He's a moron.

He picked me up from work at 7. We got home and I wrote out a shopping list. I treat us to sushie and we head to the store to shop. He's bitching about Cheese Whiz in the store. He wants a huge container of it. I say no. We're on a budget and I already wrote out the shopping list. Plus, I don't eat Cheeze Whiz cause it's SHIT and I know that any food I don't eat, he won't eat, because I don't cook with food I don't eat and he NEVER cooks ever, not even for himself when I'm gone.

One time he asked me to buy Velveeta cheese. I gave in even though I knew I'd never eat it and neither would he. He still hasn't eaten it. He asked to buy sausages. I don't eat sausages, but I thought that on days when I'm not home for supper he could make them. He still hasn't. They're frozen in the freezer. Now this Cheeze Whiz bullshit. I told him he could have the smallest jar there is. He complained it was too small and it looked like a travel size. Anyway, that's all he gets. I'm not wasting money on food he won't eat. Especially when I'm trying to cut our grocery costs down.

The store we were at didn't have everything I needed. I told him we'd have to stop at another grocery store that I knew would have what I wanted. He bitched and complained. Oh he's so tired! Oh he worked 10 hours today! Oh he had to get up so early!

I said right to his face, NOT MY PROBLEM! I asked, are you seriously going to make me continue grocery shopping by myself while you fucking facebook? Oh right, sorry, I mean sleep, not facebook.

He said no. I said good because I'm not done shopping and it's your job to help. We had a bit of screaming match in the parking lot. I told him to just stay in the car and not talk to me for the rest of the night. He followed me into the 2nd store anyway. I made him carry the 18 kg bag of kitty litter. I made sure it was the first item on my list to be picked up so he'd have to struggle around the store with it. Sucker.

I reminded him about the dishes that needed to be done tonight too. We always do the dishes together. A weeks worth has piled up, plus we had guests over the weekend! Yesterday I wanted to get them done and The BF threw a hissy fit then. I asked him if I had to give him 24 hour notice before requesting chores to be done because he always throws a fit. He said yes. He thought I was joking and I thought he was serious. He had no recollection of me asking him yesterday to help with housework today.

He bitched and moaned about the dishes like a damn baby. I said fuck you do them all yourself tomorrow and I want them ALL done BEFORE you come pick me up from work. Any that aren't cleaned properly you'll have to do them again and again and again until they are perfectly clean and spotless.

Argh he makes me so fucking mad! Tomorrow morning I'm waking up early again to start preparing some meals to keep in the freezer so that when The BF comes home from work he can take a casserole out of the freezer and pop it in the oven and it will be ready to eat by the time I get home from work at 7 pm. Too bad all the dishes are dirty! Whatever. More for The BF to wash that jackass!

And when we get married this life shall continue. When I get a state of the art dishwasher and clothes washer and dryer, my life will be easier. I keep telling myself that, but somehow I don't think it's true. Marriage doesn't make you different. In fact, you pretty much stay the same, except you get fatter and more bitter. There's so much to fucking look forward too in my future, I can't wait to feel that noose tight around my neck!


It occurred to me as I sat in the hall outside my boss's office, that I was afraid. I felt fearful of speaking to my boss.

I wasn't afraid of being fired, or reprimanded in any way. I had done nothing wrong, and yet I had this fear in me. My hands and lips were trembling. I was sweating slightly.

I thought about babies. A baby is born with one fear: loud sounds. That is the only fear humans are born with. As babies grow into children, and teens, some fears are conquered while new ones are born.

I always thought that adults were fearless. Childish fears were just that; childish. But fear stays with a person, no matter how old they are.

You know when you were a kid and you'd get caught doing some bad by a parent or a teacher? I know for myself, I instantly feared what my consequence would be. I didn't want to have to face the adult who was administering my fate. That's kind of how I felt waiting to speak to my boss this morning even though I was innocent.

It's so ridiculous! We're both adults! I can't believe I'm still scared of higher authorities like my boss and even police officers.

The chat with my boss went fine. It was great. She was telling me about how she was trying to get funding approved to keep me hired for another year! If not, I'm getting laid off, but that's besides the point.

Sunday, March 1, 2009

Die Happy

This has been one of the best Saturday nights that I have had in a long, long while. I felt like I was in high school. I felt young and sexy... I had 2 girls hitting on me all night. One was a virgin. It was fantastic! There was nobody at the club and my makeshift group of friends for the evening had the dance floor to themselves. I danced how I felt: Like I don't give a damn.

I wasn't even drunk. I was just so high on life. Nostalgia filled my nostrils as my night wound down. This odd, reminiscent feeling washed over me and I couldn't shake it. I felt like pouring my heart out to any aching ear that would listen, but I kept my trap shut.

I drove a girlfriend home that I hadn't seen in literally 10 months! She used to be my best friend, and I think she still is. I still love her to pieces. Some things just never change... she's an amazing person. Every time I hang out with her I fall in love with her personality all over again and remember why she'll always be my best friend.

But then I wanted to die again. I was filled with so much good, positive energy, I had to get rid of it. It was too overwhelming. I sang songs on the radio at the top of my lungs to pass time on the lonely car ride home. I really do just want to die... but I guess in a good way.

A recreation of the night I had won't happen again for a very long time. I must cherish this for as long as I can. But if I kill myself, I won't have to have anxiety anymore about the next party I attend. The next party I attend won't have to live up to standards that were set tonight. I could just die happy. I want to be happy and I also want to die (sometimes) so tonight seems logical in my mind.