Waiting for Happiness

Happiness is not a fish that you can catch. I can't play the ukulele worth a shit and when I told my boyfriend I wanted to move to the United Kingdom for a year on a work visa he said he'd break up with me because he doesn't want to come with me and he doesn't want a long distance relationship. (Even though I'd be gone only for a year... possibly only 6 months! Plus we've been dating for over a year and are practically engaged, just with no rings.)

I'm not sure what he's so afraid of. He just bought a car and his career is going really well. He's made a shit-ton of friends and his music and photography are really kicking off. He has a great life. I don't.

I am unhappy to the extreme. Judging by the name of this blog, perhaps you would agree?

I've always wanted to travel and I think this would be a super amazing opportunity. I'm ready to leave now! I want to go, get out, fly away, never come back for a year!

The BF wants to stay, be rooted, be responsible, buy a house, be a nob.

Fucking lucky bastard. If we were switch positions, I wouldn't want to leave either.

So now I'm debating... do I leave for a year anyway? Lose my job, my apartment, my fucking boyfriend! One of the few people who puts up with my bullshit attitude towards life and living in general.

Do I throw that all away? I don't think that I am throwing it all away. I think I'm putting it on hold until I've seen the world. I've always wanted to travel. Why not now? Why not now while I'm young and and flexible? Later is too late for me.

And as we've all learned with The BF, later is the story of his life.

I can't wait much longer. It feels like I'm waiting for happiness. I just want to go out into the world and be satisfied... If I have to do it alone, then so be it.

Happy Pills

Last night I typed the words "happy pills" into Google search and I found this:

It made me laugh inside my head, like who would be stupid enough to buy these? It doesn't look professional in any way.

I bought a bottle of 60 tablets anyway. It only cost me $30 which, after looking at some other prices on the web, it seems like I got some sort of deal. Other sites were selling for $50 and even $60 dollars. (And is it redundant I wrote a $ sign plus the word?)

Here's some more specs for you to judge me by:

Ukulele

I went for a bike ride today. I feel okay. Not good, but not bad either. Just neutral. I think I'm really going to start playing my ukulele for realzies this time. All of my boyfriend's friends (plus The BF too) are musicians or singers in some way. I'm neither and that makes me feel like an outsider. I'm going to learn the ukulele and be cool like everyone else.

Fuck, this one girl sings and plays the SAW!!! Who even plays that as an instrument? And there's all these weird drums and shakers and things in every house we go into.

Today we met some hula hoop girls who also surface juggle at breakfast at a friend's house. It was cool, but weird too. They were pretty au natural if you know what I mean. Hairy armpits and legs and big eyebrows. They all dreaded their hair and wore fucked up crazy hobo outfits. Oh, and of course, NO BRAS! Big saggy tits with nothing to restrain them. I love seeing that while I'm trying to eat my blueberry pancakes. Like huge gross nipples.

The BF's best friend is leaving on a month long bike trip. Thank fucking God. If they spent any more time together I'd think they were jacking each other off every night!

It will be nice to not have to compete for attention for a while.

Sometimes I just feel so fucking outside of everything, you know what I mean? Like I'm alienated everywhere I go. I hate that. I do it to myself, for sure, but I still hate it. And I hate myself for it too.

And I wish I could sing really good. That would solve a lot of my problems. Being a better singer is something I should work on.

Lucky

Last night I listened to Lucky by Radiohead and when the chorus came I burst into tears. I wrapped my pink belt around my neck as tight as I could. I could feel my pulse in my throat and I felt my face turning red. When I started to get dizzy I loosened up. I did this several times. Then I wrote the word slit on both my wrists with a black gel ink pen. I thought it looked cool. I tried sharpening my knife so it would slice my skin easier but I don't really know how to properly sharpen a knife and I think I may have actually made it duller. That's just as well I suppose.

I went to bed after 2 in the morning. My wrist looks like the cat faintly scratched me. I'm pathetic.

I'm also buying half an ounce of weed today and smoking as much of it as I can in one sitting. Perhaps then I'll go for a bike ride to counter act the negative impact smoking has on my lungs.

Laundry

Nobody's read my blog for about a month now. I thought I was being so positive too...

The BF and I got into a fight about laundry today. It was an all out war. He hasn't washed his clothes in literally a month. Every article of clothing he owns is in a heaping pile in the walk-in closet.

I'm not sure when the last time he wore clean socks was. He just picks through them to find another pair. Same with jeans and shirts and gitch. Fucking disgusting. He smells.

I said if you don't deal with this I'm putting your laundry somewhere you don't want it to be. He never did his laundry so I moved every last article into his studio. I covered the entire floor with his dirty clothes.

His car is broken and he's been using mine for the last two weeks. I put my foot down last night and said take the bus you scab! So he did. He comes home late from work. He's in a terrible mood. He takes one look at his laundry and explodes.

Everything with him is "I'll do it later" "I'll do it tomorrow" "Another time" "Not right now."

Fucker.

Now! NOW! I said to him. DO IT NOW! RIGHT FUCKING NOW!

I got in his face and shoved him a bit. Lots of finger wagging and pointing. I said get it done.

He wanted to take a nap. I told him he would never be able to fall asleep because I would standing over his head screaming at him to wash his laundry. He tried anyway and failed horrible. I nagged in his ear as hard as I could. I even attempted to push him off the bed. This really agitated him.

"Why are you acting like such a crazy bitch?" he says.
I grabbed a pair of scissors and said, "You want crazy? This is crazy! Go wash your clothes before I fucking stab you!"

I jabbed my scissors into his general direction for good measure.

It took a good thirty to forty-five minutes of yelling and abuse before he conceded and took his clothes to the washing machine. I told him he could nap on the huge leather couch in the laundry room if he was sooooo tired.

After he brought his clean laundry upstairs I made him hang it up and put it away properly. I also got him to change the lightbulbs he kept saying he'd do and never did. And I got him to change the kitty litter and take out the recycling.

He is such a lazy, dirty, fucker.

I wish for once, just once, he'd show some initiative and pride in himself. Like, seriously, wear clean socks every day for fuck's sake! I can't even believe him sometimes.

I So Called It

My father has
- no job
- no vehicle
- no groceries
- no credit and no way to build credit. I think he has negative credit.

Soon to have no utilities, and before you know it, no apartment! Hooray!

Seriously, 4 days ago I told my friends THIS was going to be the year my dad moves in with me. He's flat broke and now any prospect he ever had of finding a job has been completely diminished to nothing. Living in a rural area with no transportation makes it quite difficult to get groceries, pay bills, get a job.

What happened was his tranny died in his truck. It turned out to be a $900 repair and my dad simply can't afford it. His birthday is a week before father's day. I talked it over with my sister and she said she could give me a couple hundred bucks, but I think I'm going to pay for the repairs on his truck.

He's got to have a vehicle if he wants to get a job. He can't even get to a bank without a vehicle.

I told Dad to just move in with me already, but he's not giving up hope yet. He says he still has some tricks up his sleeve. He's going to take his bike around town and talk to some people. Try to spread the word that he's looking for a job, any job, doing anything, any position available at all, paying any wage!

Good for him. He's a tough man. He's trying so hard. It kills me to watch him struggle so much. He's 62. It shouldn't be this bad. He's been in the same rut for 8 years now and there doesn't seem to be any light at the end of the tunnel.

I so fucking called it.

Something Happened

You know when you think something is going to happen, and you're like, yeah I know for sure this going to happen, but then when it doesn't happen you're kind of disappointed, and you say to yourself, oh well, I kind of knew that it would turn out this way, even though earlier you "knew for sure it was going to happen."


That's kind of how I feel right now.