Old Yellow House

It's just an old yellow house
     (It's not even yellow anymore)

Old school desks on the front porch
     a train set across the pool table in the basement
Where the dirt cellar hides creepy crawlies
    if you dare, there is a ghost in the attic.

The back bedroom is full of comics,
     Snoopy, Archie and more
The single bathroom, that always has a line
     Best go before someone beats you to it.

Crowded around the kitchen,
     Pots and pans stacked high
Buns in the oven, butter on the table
     And beer in the garage.

Grab a plate,
     Fill it the brim.
Pickles, beets and orange jello are always on the menu,
     But remember, no snorting jello through a straw.

 Scooch over, plenty of room to find a spot.
     Be it at the adult table or a card table.
Eat till you pull a muscle,
     Then make room for pie.

Garden full of flowers, fresh veggies to eat
     Sitting on the swing,
playing in the camper
     One last game of one o'clock the ghost ain't here.

Walk up to the Penguin for ice cream,
     Sit down for a game of cribbage
Friday night perch fry,
     A toast with Blackberry Brandy

Laughter and stories,
     Drawing us together.
Telling old memories
     As the new are being made.

It's just an old yellow house
     (It's not even yellow anymore)

Have you been thankful today?

It is November, the month that we are suppose to be thankful. I’m seeing everyone state what they are thankful for which created in me a need to make some of my own lists. Well it may not have been a need, making lists may be a compulsion.

Things I’m not thankful for:
• Snakes
• The fact that you are now someone that I just share memories with.
• The fact that there are no ice cream delivery services
• The fact that there is no queso delivery service
• Global warming, whether it’s because of human actions or not, for goodness sake save the polar bears!
• The middle east being on the edge of war
• I have no zombie plan (ok this one is my own fault but I’m still not thankful for it
• Commercials
• Easy to open packages that you need a chisel and jackhammer to open.
• Retailers that feel Halloween is the appropriate time to put out Christmas decorations, leave Halloween alone.
• The fact that candy corn is only in season for Halloween and Thanksgiving, that stuff is crack, don’t deny me it.
• Cheese curds can only be found in Wisconsin
• People who don’t understand my sarcasm or sense of humor
• Panic attacks • The random bruises that I have no clue where they came from
• Shopping for jeans, seriously right when I find a pair I like how they fit, the store stops selling them
• Waiting for a text
• Pickle jars that I can’t open
• Math
• Politics
• Firefly being cancelled
• Fake friends

Things I am thankful for:
• My besties
• Cute boys who love horror movies
• People who can make me laugh
• My Awesome Red Couch
• Cheese
• Song lyrics
• Slapsgiving
• Friends that I can burst into song with
• Fuzzy socks
• Your phone calls
• Hugs
• My family, well most of them lol
• The taste of Mountain Dew in the morning
• Popcorn
• My boobs
• My favorite pair of jeans
• Purses
• Farley, Lou and Gabby
• Kisses that tingle my toes
• Hoodies
• Pluto, both the Planet and the Disney Character
• Dr. Sheldon Cooper

Puzzle Pieces

I have spent spring and summer trying to figure things out. To put pieces together in a puzzle that made no sense. I need things to make sense; I need to understand why things happen, what the purpose is, how it all fits together. It took awhile to understand what was going on inside me, now it still doesn’t make a complete picture. It’s been a roller coaster for the last two years, the ups are high and the lows are low. I thought I was taking it all in stride, but it turns out I was just burying everything in my typical fashion. Till everything in me burst, derailing my entire being. I’ve had severe anxiety since the beginning of the year. Sudden panic attacks, to the point that I think my heart is going to explode in my chest. Where I am so torn up that I can’t catch my breath, the tears are cursing down my face, and all I’m wanting is to curl under the covers and hide from the world. They get better for a bit and then they hit again. Random times, random places. Lately I’ve had the bad luck of having them in my car, where I am trapped. It makes me almost not want to drive, which is unfortunate as driving has always been a release for me, an escape. Atthe beginning of the year my heart was broken. I sincerely thought I would be with him for the rest of my life. He promised me heaven and showed me hell. I spent months waiting for him to take it all back, to say that he was going to make the necessary changes, be the person he was when we first fell in love. I understand now that is not going to happen. I’ve been silent on the subject because it was a wound that I couldn’t cope with. There were things I felt I needed to say to him, but I wasn’t willing or able to. Now I have accepted the fact that he does not need or get to hear my truth, it will not matter, it will not change the outcome. He has become someone I use to share memories with. I loved him enough that I will always love him, but I know that our paths are not meant to be together. I have known for awhile, but moving away from him hurt me. If wishes could come true, I would have changed our ending. Closing that chapter and putting our book up on the shelf was the second hardest thing I’ve had to do in my life. Yet, those are not the things that have necessarily kept me from writing. It is this one simple and basic fact, through all of this, the ups and the downs I have hidden myself from the world. Hidden a pain that goes so deep I had no way to get it out. At first I tried to, tried to write, tried to talk, tried to understand, when that didn’t work I avoided it, I tried to hide from it, but it was a black hole of desolation that I couldn’t escape. I would wake up crying in the middle of the night, sobbing hysterically, feeling as though the world has ended. I would at times want to drive off a bridge, or crash my car into a semi or run a knife through my soul. I didn’t want these thoughts; they weren’t how I truly felt. I have always been a closet optimist (with jaded tendencies), this desolation went against my nature. I tried to force them to go away, but they kept returning. I went out, surrounded myself with people that could make me laugh. That would listen to what I had to say. I tried hard to not stay at home, to be alone. Being alone made me nervous, made me worry if I would be safe. Always being out and about is hard when you are an introvert, it drains your energy. I was juggling my emotions and my responsibilities, praying that I didn’t drop anything import, like myself. I was severely depressed. Most days getting out of bed was a battle, living life was a frustration. I tried to keep moving, following the fake it till you make it principle. Every day I struggled, but every morning I got up and tried again. Now I’m beginning to see the light. I’m not sure if it’s the meds, the therapy or just the cycle of depression that has helped me get to this point. What I do know is that I have found pieces of myself; I’m getting that puzzle put together. It looks like nothing I was expecting, yet it is beautiful in its own way. I have found friends who have become family. Those that show me every day; in small ways that they love me. Who sooth my heart and my soul. People who stand by me, even when I don’t make sense. Who build me up instead of tearing me down. People who have helped me find the pieces of this puzzle that is me. There are still dark days. The anxiety still exists, which means I have not completed that puzzle yet. Today is a better day and for now that is enough.

Two Men and a Truck and other disappointments

I know that based on past experiences I should never expect things to go smoothly, and yet I do. Furthermore, I find myself surprised when things don’t go as planned. I moved this weekend, and like most things, it was an adventure. Nothing went majorly wrong, but nothing went as planned either.

First off for whatever reason, my being prepared skills were lacking. Instead of following the plan I had put together of packing ahead of time, I spent my time sitting on the couch doing nothing. The move started simply enough, I went and picked up my keys, no issues there, picked up V who was coming in from out of town to help, no issues there. We went to Moe’s for dinner, YUM, but there was a hair in my Nacho’s. Boo! Thursday morning comes and we run a few loads over to the new place and are debating if we have enough time to run another load. I figure, why not call the moving company and check in if they have a more narrowed time frame then between 10 and 1. I dial the number and hear the message that the phone is out of service. Maybe I dialed the wrong number, so I look it up again, try again. Still with the message phone is out of service. Feeling a little confused, and the first dredges of panic, I try a different Two Men and a Truck location. Dustin answers. Dustin informs me that I am the 4th caller today that has stated the Chamberland office is not available; he then tells me that they have not shown up to some jobs today. I feel the panic starting, but feel that maybe it is not what it seems. For what it seems is that the movers have closed and bailed on me. Dustin proceeds to tell me that he can move me today, but I would have to repay the deposit. Now I am feeling a little more panic, I don’t have extra money to pay another deposit. He kindly explains that they are all individually operated, and therefore he can’t get the money from them. I would have to take it up with them.

Dustin and I determine that my best option is to drive over to the Chamberland Lane office to see if they are open, then I can decide if I want their office to move me. OK, so off V and I go. Luckily they are open, but just experiencing phone issues. Why they didn’t think to call their customers I don’t know. They tell me the movers are on their way to my house. So V and I rush back to the apartment, and wait for them. When they get there, they tell me that they are counting that they left their office at 12:04, which is when they start billing me, it was now 12:40. It took at most 10 min to get from their office to my apartment. So they start loading. I think things are going ok, but I noticed they seem to be S L O W. The first guy tells me that they have to wait for a manager to come and bring tools, as apparently they didn’t bring any to unhook the washer or take apart the bed.

Finally after 3 ½ hours they are packed up. Now keep in mind, I have a two bedroom apartment, and am moving into a one bedroom, so an abundance of furniture and belongs I do not have. So we leave the apartment, they pull out ahead of us. We stop at a gas station, head to the new place and manage to unload the majority of my car before the movers show up. I was quoted 5 hours at maximum for the move. They have about 50 minutes left before they go over my estimate. I’m not thrilled. They ask if I want them to organize the furniture, I stated, no, just bring it. At this point they are basically running to get things off the truck, and haphazardly putting it in the apartment. Finally the last thing they do is to put the couch legs back on the couch. And off they go. V and I cannot even walk through the apartment based on how they put stuff in it. They didn’t stack or even put things up against the wall, they just shoved it wherever they could. They billed me for exactly 5 hours, and took off 45 min for breaks to bring it down to the 5 hours. Last time I moved and I used Two Men and a Truck (though a different location) it took 4 ½ hours but we had to stop at a storage unit, and the drive was longer. I was not thrilled, but at this point, I’m feeling some panic because the move is taking longer, plus I had them leave things that we could carry and fit in my car (save on time/money for the movers). V and I head back for a load, walk in and I look down and see one of my couch legs sitting on the floor. They didn’t even bother to tell me that when they put the legs on, they were missing one. Without the leg, we could have broken the couch; I am not impressed or thrilled with Two Men and a Truck.

We head back to the new place, and V and I are both going it seems really warm in here, but we thought maybe it was just because we had the doors open all day. Then some additional friends came over to help organize and see the new place, D took it upon himself to be manly and call maintenance since it was obvious at this point the AC was not working. When they called back the maintenance guy suggested I strongly push (i.e.: hit) they furnace, as the safety switch most likely got turned off. It appears resolving maintenance issues at the new place means hitting things.

Friday V and I are showering and we both think gee it seems like the water is pretty tepid, but whatever, we got places to go (such as IKEA (love it!)). V gets attacked at IKEA by a shelf, which leaves a huge gash in her arm. It ended up taking us twice as long to drive back, due to horrid traffic. But we made it with some really awesome finds. I love IKEA, I want to do all my shopping there. I think they need to build one in Louisville!

Saturday comes and after doing some more work V and I decide to treat ourselves to Pedicures. First, the place closed at 8, and it was 7:30, but they took us anyway. Usually a pedicure takes maybe an hour, usually less. We didn’t leave there until right before 9:30, longest pedicure ever. At this point we are starving, so we go to a local sports bar. The hostess greets us, and states, just the two of you. We respond yes, she suddenly looks worried and goes, hold on just a moment, and walks away to stare out the window for around 3 minutes. Then she comes back goes “that was weird” V and I were both thinking “yes, yes it was” she then asks “just the two of you?” Luckily V and I had our filters on as we both had snarky comments to make, but we didn’t. Highlight of the dinner, V was served a PBR in a can, with a brown paper bag around it. Super Classy!

On Sunday V goes to leave, as she is getting ready, she once again comments on how the water seems rather tepid. I think it’s odd, and am worried that maybe the gas company didn’t turn on the gas like they were supposed to. But suddenly I feel the urge to check the water heater, and realize that they have the heat setting turned all the way to low. No wonder it was tepid. I also went t do some laundry and realized that the water wasn’t running, so I had to find the water switch for that. The water switch for the dishwasher was harder to find and I had to breakdown and call maintenance. As the maintenance guy stated “he will soon have me trained to do his job.”

I went to Wal-Mart TWICE to get a key made, neither key worked. The first key at least fit in the lock. The second one didn’t, upon closer look; it wasn’t even the same type of key. Um, Wal-Mart shouldn’t you have known that and got me the right type of key?

At this point, I am all moved in. I have turned the old keys in. Taking inventory, I have managed to survive the move with only a swollen wrist and hand, some bites, hives briefly and a possible concussion. Next time I decide to move, someone just tell me no. Or sedate me till the feeling goes away.

Naked Zombies

Jumping right in on my random thoughts…
Why is it that zombies are never naked? Am I expected to believe that everyone is fully dressed when they get attacked? That just doesn’t seem likely. People are going to end up being attacked while they are in all states of dress; bathrobes, boxers, tops only, bottoms only, socks only. I also think it’s unlikely that everyone is going to have shoes on. I know for myself I rarely wear shoes unless I know I’m going somewhere it is required. Odds are I’m going to be barefoot and in my pajama’s when the zombie apocalypse happens. I think this random state of dress needs to be better reflected in the movies and shows.

A friend and I were talking about dating, and I’ve decided that we should put together a book on all our weird dating stories. I don’t just mean the awkward ‘he talked about his mom the entire time’ but the really weird ‘then he asked me to pee on him’ situations. In addition all the stories of the morning after, when you wake up and wonder where you put your pants, and what state you are in. The guy who doesn’t take no for an answer and finds the lamest reasons to hang around. Not to mention there will have to be a section dedicated to dick picks… the fact that guys need to send pictures of their dicks, you don’t have to ask, you don’t even have to seem like you are interested in seeing it. Apparently in guy language ‘Hi’ equals ‘Please send me a picture of your penis.’ (for you guys out there, do not send a picture unless you have been asked to do so, it will be better for you in the long run, rarely does a non-requested dick picture go over well.)(if you have a crazy dating story, post a comment, I would love to hear it.)

It’s shark week, which makes me happy. It is amazing to me that with all our knowledge we still no very little about why they do the things they do, and where they give birth. Every year though we learn more. I also am appreciating the fact that Finding Nemo is coming out in 3D. But it raises a question, how come there are not more 3D horror movies? Wouldn’t it be great if Ghostbusters came out in 3D? There would be some awesome scenes. Dear Hollywood, you need to get on that!

I move in 2 days, I’m excited and stressed. This is going to be another new start for me. Not only am I glad to get out of my scary apartment (one day there was a used condom on the back steps, a week later there was a pregnancy test in the bushes . . . coincidence?) but it will also be a place that is just mine. No memories, no regrets. It’s a new chapter in my life, and I am beyond ready for it. I know some will say I move too much, what can I say I have a wanderlust, and bad luck in picking places to live. Each time I move I sincerely hope this will be the last one.

I have for awhile now felt the need to either run and/or hide. I won’t, because I don’t know how to give up or give in. Of course that isn’t always good, I hold on longer then I should. I damage myself in the process. And ultimately I can’t run and/or hide from myself. I will be wherever I go. The things that haunt me, they won’t disappear with a new location. Any more then they disappear when I close my eyes. Stephen King said “Monsters are real. Ghosts are real too. They live inside us. And sometimes, they win.” He’s very right. Yet it doesn’t change the fact that sometimes I want to build a pillow fort and hide from the world. A place that is safe. One of my dearest hopes is that someday I won’t find that need, because my world will be my pillow fort. And the people in it will be the people that protect me, versus the ones that hurt me.

Speaking of being hurt, there have been so many shootings lately. I have so much to say, but nothing to say at all. All I can think is it would be nice if people would stop shooting others. While I do not dispute that there are some people who deserve to be shot I know without doubt they are not a bunch of random people who are at temple, or school or a movie. If violence is the answer, you are not asking the right question. I wish we would learn better. Whatever it is in our society that is creating this ‘solution’ to people’s problems needs to be changed, and I sincerely hope we figure out how.

This year has been tough, yet at the same time, I have found my smile in the oddest places. And I deeply thank everyone who has been there, who has seen the tears and not turned away. Who has ridden the crazy train and continued to purchase tickets so that I wouldn’t be alone. I can not express how much it has meant to me to have you in my life, you remind me that as bad as it may seem, it really isn’t all that bad. I’m not good at being mushy, even though I am an incredible sap on the inside. I hope each of you know who you are, those that have made me smile when I felt like there was no smiles left. You are near and dear in my heart. I love you to pieces!

And on a final note, I have gotten a twitter account, which in itself is not exciting, but if you are on there, I highly recommend following @CatFoodBreath. Words do not express the awesomeness.

Oops one more thing. Way to go Nerds and NASA, The Curiosity Rover is amazing, and I love the updates. And I love the fact that once again the nation loves NASA as much as I do, and that is a whole damn lot. Keep doing what you guys are doing!

I don't know either

I have writer’s block. That in and of itself isn’t that big of deal, it happens, but this time it is different. I want to write, I am yearning to write. I have all this stuff I want to say. Yet it gets stuck. Like a chicken wing in my throat, I can’t get it to go down or come back up. Maybe the things I need to say just are not ready to be said yet. Yet I want to say them. I want to scream them, record them on an old cassette tape and mail them to everyone. I want to rent a hot air balloon and drop propaganda leaflets from it stating my thoughts and feelings. Actually there is a lot of different type of leaflets I would drop. SAVE THE TEQUILA would probably be the first one.

I often thing in quotes or song lyrics. Sometimes I think that may be the only way left for me to communicate the way that I feel. Yet maybe I don’t need to say how I feel. Maybe it’s meant to be left unsaid. Is this the cosmo’s giving me a message? I’m not good at subtly.

I keep seeing 24 in 1 ladder show in QVC. So I was curious as to what it was and looked it up on the internet. For the record, it is exactly what it said it was, but what is noteworthy is they had an ad that stated buy 2 save on shipping and handling. Who needs 48 ladders? I thought the 24 in 1 was more ladders than I would use in my lifetime. I will admit I’m slightly interested in knowing who would need all these different types of ladders. If you or someone you know would use more than 24 different types of ladders, please comment and let me know what all the different ladders are for.

I’m not going to lie, I do like infomercials. The stuff they come up with is amazing. Ordinary things you never knew you could live without. Yet most of us do. We spend our whole lives without it, never knowing how much better things could be. I have a snuggy. I can’t use it, because I’m short (it’s too long, I trip over it). But I enjoy owning it. I’ve always wanted a Chia pet, because it’s creepy. I have a strange affection for things that are creepy. And let’s all admit, we want to know if Ginsu knives really can cut through everything they say, and then cut a tomato.

I have questions. About everything. For every answer given, I think of more questions. I never got over the childhood need to ask why. I don’t mean to be rude or nosy, I often don’t think that far in advance. I just think well this is interesting tell me more. I have found some people find this to be rude. I don’t understand that, if someone asks me a question I don’t want to answer; I just don’t answer it, or distract them with some inane randomness. And since I’m pretty random people don’t generally notice. The point I was making is that the internet get me every time. I go to look up one thing and then 4 hours later I’ve realized I’ve lost 4 hours. I do not understand not being curious about the world and the people around them.

The other day I was out with a friend, and we were walking down Bardstown Rd in Louisville KY. And we saw a miniature pony tied to a person’s chair sitting outside a bar. I think this sums up what makes America so great, people can bring their ponies out in public without fear of judgment.

One last thought, it isn’t mine, but I am passing it on. The word needs to be spread, tell your friends, your neighbors, the lady in front of you at Target. In today’s world of political agenda and mudslinging many important issues are getting overlooked. The most important of which is SAVE THE TEQUILA. Be proactive; do not let it disappear into nothingness. Go out and drink some today. Have some tomorrow also. Only you can SAVE THE TEQUILA.

Love

I am a romantic. I believe there is a soul mate for each of us. That happily-ever-after does occur. I think one has to work at these things, every day. Falling in love is not a choice, but it is a choice to be in love. It’s a lot of work and effort, it’s not easy. So I see no reason that one should limit the choices of who to love. If one heart speaks to another, we shouldn’t say it should be ignored. I have many friends that are happily married to great men. Yet not a single one of those men called to my heart, do I have the right to tell them that their heart is wrong because it speaks differently than mine does? Yet we feel it’s appropriate to tell those who love someone of the same-sex that their heart is wrong. In a world where children shoot children, people put bombs in their underwear and people hit one another we shouldn’t deny anyone the opportunity for love. Love is the most precious thing we have to give. Why would we want to tamper with it, deny it or try and change it? Some will say that same-sex marriage will ruin the sanctity of marriage; my response is look at the divorce statistics. On average 1 out of 2 marriages will end in divorce. I think that the sanctity of marriage has already been ruined; we should let someone else try and preserve it. Why do we assume they would do a worse job at marriage then we do, if anything they may do a better job, as human beings have a tendency to treasure the things that they fight for. America was founded on the belief of a pluralistic society. We are supposed to embrace different ideas and beliefs; to be accepting of those that are different. Yet we state that those that are different then us are not equal to us and do not deserve the same rights as us. And last but not least, to address those who feel that same-sex marriage goes against the word of God. Let me take a moment to remind you that Jesus, Buddha and many other religious figures preached love. Not hate, not judgment. It is not our place to judge anyone else. Limiting their rights is judging them. If two consenting adults are willing to love each other, to build their lives together, to ride this crazy ride together, why would we deny them the right to do so? Don’t be the person who denies someone the right to love the person their heart chooses. The world needs more love. “The world moves for love. It kneels before it in awe.” M. Night Shyamalan

Farley James and Prince Charming

I’ve been a little withdrawn, spent a lot of time staring at the walls and pacing the floors. And not sleeping. I’ve been trying to force myself out of this state, but it isn’t going well. Feel like my life is at a cross roads, though I’m not sure what portion I should be changing, or what portions I want to change or what I even need to do to make the changes. Hence the staring at the wall and pacing the floor.

This was said to me yesterday: “If I’m not going to have sex this weekend, the next best thing is Kimberly”
Also, someone else previously stated “Kimberly, Child tested, Inmate approved”
My friends crack me up.

I love my friends. I love that you can make me laugh those deep belly laughs. I love that you can make me giggle. I love that when I cry you are there with a Kleenex and a shovel. I love that I can tell my embarrassing stories and you don’t judge other than to laugh. I love the witty things you say and the witty things that come out of my mouth when I am with you. I love that we can wonder around Target, that we can quote awesome movies. I love that you know why some song lyrics get stuck in my head. I love that we can go out and get drunk and crazy together or do nothing together. I treasure each and every one of you and I wouldn’t trade any of you for anything. (Though some of my acquaintances I would probably be willing to trade for various baked goods.) With all that in mind, I’m really hoping my Prince Charming shows up soon. I have no doubt he is out there, I just wish he would get his ass here.
I don’t ask for a lot, just someone to debate with, someone to kiss and hold hands with, someone to canoodle with on a regular basis, someone who understands that curling up on the couch with a B horror movie is amazing, someone who gets curling up on the couch to read is awesome. Someone who wants to travel, and understands that joy of coming home after a weekend away. Someone who has passion for life. He doesn’t have to make a lot of money, but he has to have drive and ambition. Someone who will warm my feet when they are cold, which admittedly is pretty much all the time. And help me with the pets (and be willing to have pets and possibly get more at some point). Creative. Pays bills. Who understands that Grilled Cheese is amazing. That popcorn can be a meal in a pinch. That loves a good thunder storm and wants to take a hot air balloon ride. That can make blueberry pancakes. Who loves the smell of campfire. Has musical talent and let's me sing in the car. (If he can juggle or yoyo those would be bonuses)
I really don’t know why finding someone with all these traits is so hard.

I think healing a broken heart is like trying to catch a butterfly it works best when you pretend it’s not what you are trying to do.

I know he is kind of an ass but Ricky Gervais makes me laugh, not his show, just his interviews.

I have put reminders in my calendar that states “Time to Make Out”. I hope I’m around cute single guys when they go off otherwise things are going to get interesting.

Farley is sick. He goes in for Surgery tomorrow. I am stressed a Momma. He doesn’t seem to be doing well, and the vet is concerned. He is my buddy; he’s been with me through a lot. He has kissed away my tears, and got me to laugh in times of stress. He cuddles with me on the couch and tries to eat all my food. He may be my Prince Charming in Dogggy form. I hope it’s something we can take care of, I really don’t think I can take any more loss. He has some blood again in his pee, he has a growth that has excessively grown in the last month or so. The growth has burst open and is bloody and pussy. He gets winded walking up the stairs, he is shedding and his skin is flaking off. We are going to have the growth surgically removed tomorrow, as the vet is concerned that doing a biopsy may release toxins into his body. Then we will send it for a biopsy and hope for the best. If everyone could send a little prayer for Farley James, I would greatly appreciate it

Farley

Spring Sunset
I have been playing with my camara. This is one of my favorites so far.

New Years List

I’ve been struggling with writing. I look back at some of my previous posts and I find pieces of myself laid bare. Not sure I am comfortable with the picture that I am painting. Though maybe that means I am not comfortable with myself. And maybe there is no maybe about that last statement. Either way it is making me feel shy about what I put out here. Which is leaving me struggling with what to write. I’ve decided to try and put that fear aside and just plunge in (not head first, because you can get injured, but feet first)

2011 is coming to a close. It’s been a crazy 12 months. I’m not where I thought I would be, but I’m not where I feared I would be either. I guess that means I’m middle of the road, and as long as everyone stays in their lanes, I’m perfectly safe.

So it’s a good time of year to look inward and reflect on the things one wishes to change about themselves. As well as determine goals for the upcoming year. I’ve spent no time thinking about it, but this is what I got so far.

- Finish learning to play guitar. I started, which is a step. I know most of the major cords. Now I just need to be able to play them in an order that would be appealing to humans.
- Ride in a hot air balloon.
- Start getting back into Yoga and meditation.
- Write
- Get a different job (which is 24 days, 591 hours, 35462 minutes from when I am writing this)
- Learn how to make homemade pasta
- See polar bears in the wild
- Go to a Hindu Temple
- Go to a Packers game (tickets, check. Hand warmers, check. To be completed on 01.01.12)
- Learn to stand up for myself without feeling guilty or selfish.
- Learn to accept that who I am is understanding, sympathetic and forgiving, and I don’t need to be anyone different.
- Be better at staying in contact with my loved ones. You know who you are, the ones that I don’t call, I don’t write, YET I think of you often.
- Participate in the Dirty Girl (August 18, 2012)
- Learn to not walk into doors. (I am in the bathroom hanging up the clothes for the next day, I turn around, grab the bathroom door to open it, and take a step forward. BAM. Right into the door goes my head. I saw small little birds chirping around my head. Its two days later and I still have a knot on my head.)
- Have a girls weekend somewhere away from home (anyone want to come with me, right now it’s me and well me. So I guess at this point it’s just a girl weekend
- Cheese curds. I am not sure what my resolution is about them, but I feel they need to be in this list somewhere. Maybe I could get a job as being a cheese curd spokesperson. Bring goodwill and cheese curds to the world. Or maybe not so much goodwill as just bring cheese curds.
- Get people to accept that my phobia of snakes is not something I can just ‘get over’ I would if I could. But seriously people, there are giant man eating snakes out there. Protect the children.
- Go skiing /snowboarding
- Go to Colorado (this probably could be included in the one above.)
- Buy a dining room table and chairs, use for eating.
- Start saving for Sochi 2014
- Learn to speak Russian
- Be confident
- Figure out why everyone thinks Fight Club is a good movie.
- Watch more movies so people stop saying ‘really’ when I say I haven’t seen something.
- Become un-allergic to my dogs salvia. Nothing like breaking out in hives when getting some cuddle time.
- Get a goat or a sheep. Sheep go to heaven, goats go to hell (thanks Cake)
- Admit I’m a sentimental romantic.
- Stop hamster wheeling things, only those of you with anxiety will understand this one. It’s when you think about something over and over. Reaching no real conclusion, yet you continue to obsess about it.
- Learn how to surf
- Sky Dive
- Make 2012 Christmas Cards
- Kick people in the shin who insist on calling me Kim after I have nicely asked them to call my Kimberly (anyone who knew me before 1995 is pardoned from being kicked, though I would prefer if you called me Kimberly.)
- This isn’t a resolution, but a fact. I enjoy making lists.
- Be better at staying organized.
- Vote for President.
- Possibly run for President, or Congress. Feel free to write me in. Guy on the phone the other day told me I had a nice voice and therefore I should be in the Senate. I am not sure it’s the right requirements, but based on the current Congress, it’s not a bad requirement.

I may think of more things between now and the first. I may even be inclined to share some of them.

Here are some well wishes I have for you. May the New Year find you happy and healthy. May you never hit your funny bone. May your bum never sit on a wet toilet seat. May your jokes always be laughed at. May the biggest piece of cake always be yours. May a love one always be there to catch your tears. May your life be blessed in a thousand different ways.

9/11

I remember. I remember that before you became a victim you were a person who laughed, who cried, who lived. I remember that before you became a national hero you were a hero to those that loved you. I remember that hate brought us to this point, but it will not make us leave it. I remember that when the morning was blue, terror reigned, and more then buildings trembled. I remember that when we thought there was no hope, we found it in each other. I remember that a thirst for vengeance lead us astray. I remember that they hated us for a litany of reasons. I remember that hating them will not stop this cycle. I remember that we are just another place where terror now lives.

And because I remember I pledge that I will not let terror change my life. I pledge I will do my best to help those who are unable to help themselves. I pledge to never let hate dictate my beliefs. I pledge to be the person who will stand up to help, not lash out in fear. I pledge that I will not judge another by their culture or beliefs. I pledge I will not punish someone for crimes they did not commit. I pledge that all that was lost that day will not be in vain. I pledge I will remember.

Indeed

The English language is a constant amusement to me. It makes no sense, and it often leaves me bewildered, amused or annoyed. And if it wasn’t for spell check I probably wouldn’t be typing these blogs as nothing is spelled phonetically like they say (and the irony of that word should be lost on no one.)

Indeed. This word pretty much is the water of conversation. It fills up all the nooks and cracks of silence. You can use it when you agree with someone, and you can use it when you don’t agree. Most people assume you are saying it to agree with them, but sometimes I say it when I don’t agree, when I don’t really know what else to say. For example, when a guy told me he liked to be peed on my first reaction was ‘indeed’ as I didn’t want to offend him, but I really didn’t know what the appropriate response was beyond ‘holy shit, that is messed up.’ Of course sometimes indeed backfires on me, as people assume I’m agreeing, as this guy did. Then there was the awkward moment where I had to definitively state that I was not willing to pee on him.

Disgruntled, we use this word often, yet rarely do you ever hear of anyone being gruntled. The same with reiterate, rarely do we state that we are going to iterate a point.

Then of course there are the phrases. Getting my goat. I don’t even know where this started, but it’s odd. I am not sure why or when this would be appropriate. How the sayings got started is beyond me. Did people use to steal each other’s goats as practical jokes? Or as a punishment for some type of crime? And once they got my goat, what are they going to do with it? Will they take care of it? Sell it? Eat it? Don’t eat my goat that is rude. Also, fish in a barrel, why are you shooting them, just reach in and grab one. Also, as a clarification point, are the fish in the barrel alive or dead. If they are dead, shooting them is even more redundant. If they are alive, why do you want them dead?

Why can my DVR not recognize I want to just fast forward through the commercials and stop when the show comes back on? Also, why when I’m watching a show on DVR can I never remember I can fast forward through the commercials till I’ve watched the majority of them? DVR is an amazing invention, but I feel that it could be greatly improved. Someone needs to get going on that.

Why is it if you are sitting in a chair and leaning backwards that moment when you think you are going to fall is so scary? Realistically I know I’m not falling to my death, the chair is what, like 2 or 3 feet off the ground, odds are in my favor that I am going to survive, yet my heart stops for a moment, I feel the breath leave my lungs and there is that 2 seconds of complete stress where I think I’m not going to make it. Then the chair rights itself and my body returns to its normal functions. Yet at that moment I would bet anything that the fall is going to kill me.

Today I am getting ready, putzing around the house when I suddenly feel the breath becomes rapid and shallow, my heart rate accelerates. I can feel the sweat break out on my skin, and the hair rises on the back of my neck. My eyes fill with tears. It is as though there is a giant man eating snake staring me down. What is even worse is I KNOW there is no snake, but my brain is telling my body to respond as though there is. Complete flight or fight response. There is nothing I can do to rationalize that I am not in danger, all I can do is ride the ride till it is over. It appears the pacing helps, I think it tricks my brain , into thinking I’m fleeing, which is really the only option, as there is nothing physical for me to fight. My question is how is it that while my brain is sending signals that I am under immediate attack it also knows that I have nothing to worry about. Nothing like that to make one wonder if sanity is going to be sticking around or not, though they say if you wonder if you are sane, you are ok. Insane people do not question their sanity.

Thought of the day that isn’t mine: There is sacredness in tears; they are not a mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than then thousand tongues. They are messengers of overwhelming grief… and unspeakable love. – Washington Irving

Variety

I’ve been slacking on the blogging. Not because I’m not writing but because I’m not writing anything well. Unless foaming at the mouth rants are really what you are looking for. In which case let me know, I can start posting those.

This is just some random stuff that has been floating around.

I sometimes make myself sleep on the other side of the bed, just to prove I can.

I think my couch is the best thing in the world. If my house was on fire, I would try to take it out with me, which means my list of things to bring with me in a fire are; purse, clothes, the dogs, the cat, the hedgehog, Hemingway and the couch. I bring this up so that when I die in the house fire everyone will understand what happened. I am physically incapable of carrying and / or herding all of those things. At this point, I think my goal needs to be not to have a house fire, which as far as goals goes; it’s a pretty good one.

I have been in an epic battle with pickle jars for awhile now. I lack the ability to open them. I have done the water trick, the bang on the counter, the use a grippy trick, break the seal with a knife... I’ve tried every conceivable option to open the jar (besides breaking the jar in the sink). And still the jars remain stubbornly closed. I probably buy a new jar of pickles about once a month in hopes that this will be the jar that opens. It never is. I feel that I am supporting the pickle industry, yet I never get to eat the pickles. At this point, I’m not even sure that I like pickles; I just know that I want to eat some. My resolution is to accept that I can’t open pickle jars, and stop buying them. I will have to get my pickles from strangers. But it has added a new boyfriend requirement to my list, he must be able to open pickle jars.

I have no zombie attack plan. A vast majority of my friends do. I was ok with this till I realized that if (or when) I became a zombie they would have no issue cutting my head off. I find this to be saddening. They don’t seem to be thinking twice about offing me. Now I feel obligated to come up with a Zombie attack plan so that my friends don’t hurt my feelings by killing me.

I only watch you-tube for videos of animals attacking humans. I realize that this may be a little odd. But it makes me happy and amuses me when the animals kick human butt. I mean I love me some wild animals, but I fully recognize and appreciate the fact that they are wild. Don’t make them pets, and they will be less likely to maul you. My favorite is when a lion attacked some hunters, don’t hunt lions, they will mess your shit up.

I heard on the local news,”women found safe under her bed.” Apparently she has been missing since this weekend, I heard this on Wednesday. This lady apparently is a great hide and seek player. I mean really, under her bed, did no one think to look there first? Note to the world, if someone is missing, check under the bed and in the closet first.

I originally started the above section with the word honestly, and then I realized that it was redundant. I figure my readers should assume what I put out here is the truth, unless otherwise stated. I decided I don't need to make a point of saying I’m being honest, you all can just assume I am.

New webpage I’m enjoying. It’s mean and funny. So many are things I think in my head, but so often am unable to say out loud. http://www.bluntcard.com/

Blue Heron's are not your friend

Why I’m scared of big birds. Do not take this statement to mean I’m scared of Big Bird from Sesame Street, him I am not afraid of. He taught me my ABC’s and how to place nice with others. Mostly it is the water fowl with the long legs that hold my terror. I like eagles, and hawks; I have no problem with ducks; but a bird with long legs, those I want nothing to do with. It all started one fateful day when I was around ten. I will tell the story to the best of my ability but time and fear may have impacted how I remember the events.

I had to collect butterflies for a school project, I am sure most middle schoolers had to do something similar, collect butterflies and pin them to a corkboard. I always felt that this was a little bit like torture, but that is neither here nor there. Back to the story, I go to a pond somewhat close to my house. Like most rural ponds it was surrounded by weeds. I was poking my way around, when I heard the weeds rustle. I stopped, waiting to see what would emerge being a semi country girl I was not overly worried. I’ve encounters my fair share of wild animals, I knew that for the most part they are more scared of me than I of them.

For a moment there was silence, and then the most hideous squawking began. It startled me, but not enough to make me run, I stood there, waiting. Innocent and unknowing. More rustling and squawking occurred, I took a step back, as I did this long legged feathered creature came out of the brush. If I was an Ornithologist I would have recognized it as a blue heron, being that I wasn’t and only a child I thought it was something from a nightmare. It stood as tall as me, which granted at that point wasn’t that tall, but intimidating none-the-less, it had long spindly legs, a long neck, beady eyes and a pointed beak. It stood there squawking and flapping its wings at me, science has proven that humans when faced with danger have a fight or flight response. I chose fight, and I swung the butterfly net I was still holding at it. This was not the correct response. Instead of intimating the bird to leave me alone it charged at me, wings flapping, beak squawking and head bobbing. So I tried the other option, flight. I dropped my butterfly net, the one that had offended the bird, and RAN. This bird, this long legged, feathers ruffled, squawking bird CHASED ME. In my mind I ran for miles, but realistically it was probably only a few feet. When I realized I was no longer being chased, I stopped, turned around and looked. The bird was standing there, waiting to see what my next move would be. I thought briefly of going back for my butterfly net, as I would need it to complete my project, then I realized I wasn’t expected to do well in school, so screw the project. That bird was scary and I was going home. As far as I can recall, I never went back to that pond. And my fear of birds with long legs was firmly established.

Truths

I have always kept thoughts to myself, while often brutally honest I have a hard time saying/doing things that will hurt others or put myself at risk(emotionally vulnerable). Yet sometimes it’s hard to not state what I think. Here are some of my thoughts to some of the people that I interact with.
If you have sexted or made actual plans to cheat, you are a cheater; even if you never played I put my dick in it. Don’t try to cover it up with pretty words and insignificant justifications. You don’t love your wife nearly as much as you claim to. If you did, you wouldn’t think with your dick. You have already betrayed her. Someday she is going to find out what type of person you are, best be prepared.
I dislike you, and have no clue why I continue to talk to you. You bring drama to my life, which I don’t need. You remind me of things best left buried in the closet. You don’t know me, even though you pretend to. You use me, even though you say you are not. You have nothing useful to offer me; I’m done with this whole thing.
I’m really confused by you. I don’t get what is going on. I have tried to just go with the flow, but the thing is, I think I could fall for you. And I’m trying hard not to. I don’t know if you like me, in that way. I don’t know that you are willing to catch me if I fall. Yet sometimes I think you would. You make me laugh, and you make me feel safe. I think I could tell my secrets to you. Yet I won’t, you confuse me, I don’t know if I can trust you. I don’t know what this is, and I’m too scared to ask.
Your children learn from watching you. If you are mean to them, they will be mean to you. If you ignore them, they will ignore you. If you beat them, they will abuse you. They will learn from you, so if you don’t like how they are, then change how you are. End of story.
If you wanted to be here, you would be here. Stop making excuses.
I miss you, every day. I miss talking with you, laughing with you, hanging out with you trips, I miss our inside jokes, I miss our randomness, I miss existing with you. I miss the fact that you knew me, understood me, and loved me. I miss the way you would look at me, and the way you would tease me, and the way I could be me around you. I miss your humor, and your smile, I miss your strength and your gentleness. If there is anything in my life I could change, it is the one night that ruined it. If I could figure out how to undo what has been done, I would. It makes me sad that we can’t figure out a way to move forward.
You wonder why I don’t share with you, let me clue you in. It is because when I needed you, you weren’t there. You called on me to help you time and time again, yet never had time to listen to me. So no, I don’t trust you, and I’m not going to turn to you when I need help.
You are settling and you know it. You are afraid of being alone, so you are clinging to whatever comes your way. You are never going to find happiness that way. If you love her, then stop looking for someone ‘better’ to come along. If you sincerely think there is someone better out there, then leave her. You are

Love

Ahh love, it is in the air. You watch the commercials and go the store and you can feel cupid breathing down your neck like a stalker. Some will say that we shouldn’t show our love only on Valentine’s Day, some will say it’s a Hallmark holiday. I don’t disagree, per se. Yet there is something sweet about devoting one day a year devoting your attention to your beloved. Sometimes we all need that reminder to make us feel special.
Love is a mixed bag of nuts where I am concerned. I have yet to figure out a way to put into words how I feel about it. So I am going to use some of my favorite love quotes to speak for me. Where ever you are, whomever you might be. May cupid’s arrow be kind.

You make me understand how wonderful it is for little lizards when they find that one special rock that’s perfect for sunning themselves on. You make me feel lizard – happy. Randy K. Milholland
I like you. You’re funny and nicely shaped. And frankly, it’s ludicrous to have those interlocking bodies and not interlock. Please remove your clothing now. Joss Whedon
When I think that something could happen to you, it feels bad inside, like I might vomit. Joss Whedon
Love is much like a wild rose, beautiful and calm, but willing to draw blood in its defense. Mark Overtsy
For it was not my ear you whispered, but into my heart. It was not my lips you kissed, but my soul. Judy Garldand
Love is everything it’s cracked up to be… It really is worth fighting for, being brave for, risking everything for. Erica Jong
Passion makes the world go round. Love just makes it a safer place. Ice T
Love is a snowmobile racing across the tundra and then suddenly it flips over, pinning you underneath. At night the ice weasels come. Matt Groening
Love isn’t a decision. It’s a feeling. If we could decide who we loved, it would be much simpler, but much less magical. Trey Parker and Matt Stone
Love is a fire. But whether it is going to warm your heart or burn down your house, you can never tell. Joan Crawford.
There is a fine line between cuddling and holding someone down so they cannot get away. Unknown
It is only possible to live happily ever after on a day to day basis. Margaret Bonnano

We do not eat Dairy Cows

A friend and mine were talking the other day and he brought up an interesting point, why does Chick-fil-A use Dairy Cows in their advertising? For those of you not familiar, their promotions are Dairy Cows stating ‘save the cows, eat more chicken.’ I’m no cow expert, though I am from the Dairy State, but normally Dairy Cows are not where beef comes from. I’m not saying that when old Bessie dries up she isn’t made into yummy Manwich sandwiches, but the majority of beef comes from beef cattle. So eating more chicken will not have any real benefit for Dairy Cows. Did someone in marketing not understand the difference in cows, did they think Dairy cows were cuter then beef cows? I ask, why are they using them for their advertising? I think we need to get a petition together to ask them to stop using Dairy cows and start showing nice big Longhorn Cattle instead.

Why do people feel it’s necessary to ask every time they have seen me how the job hunt is going and if I have found a job yet? Here is a little hint, if I get a job, everyone will know, it will not be one of the secrets that I keep. As a matter of fact, when I get a job, there will probably be some type of booty dance involved. So no worries, word will get out, you do not need to continuously ask. Also, if you have ever had to hunt for a job, you know that it is a painfully slow process. It’s boring and annoying and frustrating. When you ask how it is going, do you want me to lament about how it’s boring, annoying and frustrating? About how I’ve applied to over 50 places and have not heard back from the majority of them? Cause I can, but I’m guessing you don’t want to hear that. So do us a both a favor and don’t ask these questions. If any funny stories occur I will share, if I job offer comes in, I will share. No need to ask, I will share. I share.

Moving on, why in all the cute cat pictures do they have writing that implies the while cat can talk; it can’t write or speak normal English? It is always ‘youz stole my cookie’ or ‘Ize so cute’. If they are smart enough to talk, I think they would have the ability to talk in English, not some weird broken down uneducated version of it. Especially since there are pictures of babies with machine guns, smoking cigars stating ‘I’m going to kill you Mother Fucker.’ If a baby can handle the concept of English, why can a cat not. I mean I am all for animals having personality, but let’s draw a line and state they can speak English. As a matter of fact all my pets have personalities. Farley is a Surfer dude, laid back and relaxed. He’s thoughts often run along the lines of ‘Whoa, dude, let’s go outside and smell around’ or ‘I’m just chilling on the bed.’ Lou on the other hand is a five year old boy who has eaten too much Halloween Candy. ‘I’m going to run over here, no I’m going to run over there, no wait I’m going to go chew on Farley’s ear.’ Gabby is a prima donna who doesn’t understand why people are not devoting their whole life to adoring her ‘I’m sleeping, why are you not petting me, the dogs are too close, adore me.’ And Perrin is a curmudgeonly man who hates everyone. He sits in his little home, hissing at everyone that comes by stating ‘you put one hand on my turf and I will shoot if off.’ So I’m all for personalities of animals, but the cute cats that talk uneducated English are annoying.

This next part is not really my story. But I love it so much I am compelled to share it, I may not fully remember the conversation clearly, but this is the jist. We are in the bar, chilling out, when Dan comes back from the bathroom and states ‘I’m going to the bathroom when I hear someone walk out the stall without flushing. I craned my neck around to get a look at the guy who didn’t flush as he washed his hands. After I finished my business I went to the stall to verify that he didn’t flush, and true enough there was kids in the pool that he had dropped off.’ As Dan is telling this story he is looking around the bar, to find the guy who shit and didn’t flush. He sees him at the bar.
Points at him and states loudly, ‘That’s the guy, that’s the guy that took a shit in the bar and didn’t flush’
Poo Guy: ‘Wasn’t me’
Dan: ‘No, it was, I saw you. You shit and didn’t flush. Were you just in the bathroom?’
Poo Guy: ‘Well yes, a bit ago, but it wasn’t me’
Dan: ‘Dude, you took a shit in the bar bathroom and didn’t flush. What kind of person does that?’
Guy totally ends up flustered. Thank you, Dan, for being my hero. For calling out the person who doesn’t bother to flush the toilet when they are done. We need more people like you in the world.

Laid Bare

I have never been good at expressing my deepest thoughts and feelings. I’m not good with one on one relationship, not when they matter. The ratio between how well I will do with sharing to how important the relationship is equals Pi. I would rather stand in front of a crowd and amuse them then try and make a real connection in the world. Which is why I find this blog so nice, it is about amusing a bunch of strangers and a few friends. Maybe that is why I find it easier to write down my thoughts and feelings, those deep murky places that live inside of me. As a wiser man than me stated ‘I write because I am too afraid to say some things out loud.’ Very few people know me, the real me. I am an excellent story teller, but few ever see the hidden depths of my stories. I have layers upon layers of complexity in me, but the very basic core of which I am is all very simple. I’m just a girl wanting to be loved. So here are some of my secrets that have eaten away at me. Sometimes I think they are all that I am, yet I’m beginning to believe I am so much more than these things.

I have been so desperate for love that I have forgiven inappropriate touching, a sexual attack, physical, emotional and mental abuse in hopes that I would be loved. I thought that if I forgave them they would love me and treat me right. That if I loved them, they would learn how to love me. For the longest time it never dawned on me that first I needed to be desperate enough to love myself and not forgive those that do harm. That letting people abuse me would not make them love me. That their abusing me was not a form of love. I never understood the concept of loving myself enough to not put up with it.

I am by nature optimistic; I believe that people are inherently good, that when push comes to shove they will do what is right. Yet I feel that people will for whatever reason hurt me. I am often road kill on their way to their happiness. I have yet to figure out why this happens. Though I do spend good portions of my time creating theories. Sometimes I think it is karma, to make up for all the bad things I have done, except I’m not sure what bad things I have done to deserve this life. Other times I think that bad things just happen. And sometimes I have no answer at all.

I lost a baby, which is one of the dumbest phrases ever. I didn’t lose him (yes in my secret heart I think of him as a him), it’s not like losing a set of keys or your homework, where you just need to retrace your steps to find the missing item. My body betrayed me, didn’t do what it was suppose to; create a warm nurturing environment for him to grow. It devastated me. Broke me in ways that nothing else could. If I knew all the words in the dictionary I still would not have the vocabulary to explain. Yet from that, I found something. Myself. It was a long process of staring into the darkness and deciding to turn, walk away to find the light.

I have at various points been diagnosed as being manic depressive, having anxiety, OCD and ADD. Every day is a struggle within my brain. I don’t think they way others do, I don’t feel the way others do. I don’t see the world the way others do. These are neither bad nor good statements, they are merely statements. Yet for whatever reason I have been at various times in my life suicidal. I haven’t escaped suicide because I found faith or something to live for, I didn’t have a moment where I was too scared to die, I didn’t have someone rush in at the last moment before I took action to save me. (Though I did have someone reach out to me once when I was drowning in the darkness, and he is forever in my heart). Every time I sank that low I didn’t commit suicide because I was terrified that the ones I loved the most would not care if I was dead. That I would die as unloved as I felt. So I didn’t in the hopes that someday they would love me as much as I love them. Even when I’m not suicidal, even on my best of days, I worry that I am unlovable. This is my biggest fear, more than snakes, more than being homeless, more than anything in this world or the next I worry that I will be unloved. Which means I reject all those that do love me, and hold myself separate from them.

I am a complex contradiction of emotions. I feel that I am worthless and have no value, at the same time I am incredibly narcissistic and believe that I have the power to control things, and that I am the center of everything. These contradictions often leave me confused and unable to figure out how to move forward. How does one live with the belief that they are worth nothing, yet everything revolves around them? It creates anxiety in me, as I feel that I am required to fix everything yet I don’t know how. I constantly feel like I am letting down everyone.

I eat to hide. I drink to remember to feel. I get lost in imagination.

I tell the truth. I may at times avoid a conversation, but I don’t lie. I may sidestep a question, misdirect your attention. But I don’t lie. Except I do lie. I lie to those that have hurt me, those that I still love. I lie to them all the time. I am nothing but a huge liar when it comes to them. I tell them it’s ok. I tell them it’s forgiven. I tell them what they need to hear so they are not upset. I lie. It’s not ok. They have wounded me. They have disappointed me. They have abandoned me. I have not forgiven and I have not forgotten.

The Long Goodbye

My family makes leaving an Olympic event; you need stamina and training to do it. We don’t just leave; we amble, linger, dillydally and tarry our way out the door. We have whole conversations instead of a simple good bye. It is well known that if you want to leave at 1, you best start saying goodbyes around 12. The amount of time needed to say goodbye is a complex formula. Take the length of time since you have last seen each other. Divide by the amount of children or other family members waiting to leave. Times that by the wind-chill or humidity factor outside. Factor in the importance of the next to do item you have to leave for. Add the importance of the event (such as wedding, funeral, Fourth of July, second Sunday of the month). Times that by the odds of seeing each other within the next month. This will give you a rough estimate of the time needed for a goodbye. Other factors can come into play, if two people are saying goodbye to the same person, length can either increase or decrease in proportion to the relationship of everyone involved.

Now I have recognized that not everyone can leave this way, most people seem to say, bye, catch ya later and walk out the door. I do not know how to do that. So instead if I want a ‘normal’ goodbye I feel the need to say BYE and scuttle out the door like a cockroach running from the light. I’m told that this makes people feel awkward and uncomfortable. I’m not a fan of it myself; I need at least 20 minutes to part ways. Anything less than that and I feel fractured, drifted, at a loss. Yet most don’t want to give me the 20 minutes I need, they get frustrated and are politely shoving me towards the door so they can slam it in my face. I have yet to figure out how to explain to them that I do not do quick goodbyes. That my wanting to linger is a testament to what they mean to me or a testament to my genetics.

Tidbits about me:
I eat my macaroni and cheese with potato chips.

I cannot sleep with any body part hanging off the bed. I think I never outgrew my fear of the monster under the bed.

I have an active and vivid imagination. Often when I am in that gray time between sleep and awake my imagination punishes me. It sends me imagines of snakes, often giant, man-eating snakes that are going to gobble me whole. I’m terrified of snakes, small ones, big ones… they are all the same to me. They send shivers up my spine, goose bumps up my arms; they steal my breath and my voice. During that gray time, my brain sends them to me. When this happens I make my brain send polar bears in. Big fat, fluffy mean polar bears. Polar bears make the snakes go away. Moral: Polar Bears beat snakes and I’m crazy.

I dislike raisins. I feel they are dead grapes and do not understand why people eat them.

Ed Norton pisses me off. His mere existence raises my blood pressure and makes me want to rage against the world. Writing that statement makes me want to punch kittens in their adorable faces.

Dentist - Take two

Sometimes I think bad things happen to bad people, and sometimes I think bad things happen to good people and then sometimes I think, I need to stop thinking and just punch kittens. Either way, bad stuff is going to happen.

I had to take a return trip to the dentist. Figured it would be easy; just put the crown on my once broken tooth. I was naive and wishful in my thought process. First step is for the dental assistant to remove the temporary cap, she pulls, she tugs, she twists.. the thing is not moving. I on the other hand have managed to clench my fingers and toes in response to the pain. She decides that she needs to saw it off. That is right, saw it off my tooth. I’m not sure why I didn’t get up and leave, just let the temporary cap stay on till nature decides it needed to come off, but no, I agree. So they numb me up and I sit there while she pleasant sticks some type of rotating blade in my mouth. About 20 minutes later, she is back to pulling and tugging. Luckily I was numb, so I didn’t feel a thing. Another 20 minutes goes by and she gets all the little pieces off. Then she goes, well your gums are a little irritated.
Irritated is a mild word. What was actually going on is my gums were bleeding profusely from the damage she did. This wouldn’t have bothered me, except when they tried to put the crown on, it wouldn’t’ fit right, cause my inflamed gums were getting in the way. Their solution was to suggest lasering part of my gums off. Not only would this stop them from being in way of the crown, but it would also cauterize the bleeding. Again, I ask myself, why I didn’t just leave, but I didn’t instead I say let’s do this.

So they pull out their nifty laser and start doing their thing. I hadn’t completely thought about what was meant by cauterizing the gums till I smelled the pleasant smell of burning flesh. I fought bravely against both the panic and the nausea that was coming. I thought I was holding it together rather well till I realized that I could feel ‘heat’ along my gums. I talked myself through that was still holding on, but then they blew water across the tooth. It was like a thousand pinpoints of pain in my mouth, I felt it to my toes. I swiftly let them know that I could feel pain. There was then a discussion about trying to numb me back up or letting them finish as they were almost done. Again, I should have just left, but instead I said go ahead. So they continued on. My hair stood on end, my toes curled in pain, but finally they finished, and the crown was on with a good fit.

It only took 2 hours. It is now, just shy of 12 hours later and my gums are still ‘irritated’ and my jaw aches.

I do not know if I have the perseverance to go back to the dentist ever again.

On a different note, I was recently introduced to a new product.
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• Distracts Enemies
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Do not delay, get a pair today!
http://handerpants.com/ (note: the infomercial is worth your time)

Green Suckers are Evil

Friday afternoon I’m happily sucking on a green sucker, diligently working. The sucker taunted me with its crunchy goodness, so I caved and bit into it. Apparently the sucker was the Chuck Norris of suckers, as it chipped my back molar. About half of it was gone. At first I was mildly alarmed, then reality sent in… I would have to go to the dentist. My internal alarm went RED.. DANGER DANGER!

If you are a family member or child do not read this part… though it could be a PSA.

I have a fear of the dentist. This started when I was in high school. One day, after getting high with some friends, I came home to my mom telling me I had a dentist appointment to get a cavity filled. For apparent reasons I couldn’t tell my mom I was too high to go to the dentist, so off we went. Now I had never experienced paranoia when high, but things were soon to change. I sat in the dentist chair ready for my filling. Once the drill started I realized this was a BAD DECISION. I don’t recall much about the specifics, but this I know, I was certain the dentist was trying to kill me. It was going to be a slow and painful death; there was nothing I could do to stop it. I was trapped in that dentist chair. I do not recall the specifics of how I escaped my demise, but this I know, ever since I have severe anxiety about going back to the dentist. (Moral of the story: Don’t do drugs)
So here I am 33 years old with a chipped tooth, the thought of going in to the dentist makes me want to wet myself, but having known severe dental pain, I know I there is no way I cannot go. So I start calling dentists. For reasons I do not completely understand, no dentist offices were open on Friday afternoons. So I make a 9 am appointment for Monday
Monday comes with minimal pain. Off to the dentist I go. I resist the urge to drive into oncoming traffic to delay the inevitable. Things are going well; new dentist is very nice, dental assistance is nice. Office is soothing, yet I can feel the mind numbing terror swimming through my veins. I’m not sure what they said, the words root canal, pulling and deep drilling were all involved, when they came to talk to me about cost I was numb with terror, so they just sucked me into agreeing to pay. I sat in the chair, trying desperately to crank my iPod loud enough to no longer hear the drill. Instead I got a mix of Nervous but Exicted with drill as background music, not the best combination. With all the technology that exists why are they not able to make dental instruments not sound like weapons of torture? Also, I have a theory that those that chose the dental profession were Spanish Inquisitors in past lives.

I managed to not make a fool of myself, generally speaking, no crying or screaming or running out. The point that really tested me is when they were creating the molding. I had to bite down on the foamy cement stuff (sorry if I confuse anyone with the technical terms) I started drooling, of course I didn’t really notice since my mouth was numb. I noticed it when I drooled on my bib. The dental assistant kindly offered to lean me back so that I wouldn’t drool on myself. This seemed like a great idea, till I realized I couldn’t properly swallow due to an inability to close my mouth. Also, based on taste I was slowly drowning in my own blood and saliva. Finally the dental assistant removed the template and suctioned out my mouth. Stuffed it with gauze, as they told me that I might have some bleeding due to my gum being torn up while they were drilling, apparently my gums are exceptionally close to my teeth (are they not suppose to be?)

I leave the dentist and stop at the gas station before going home to be drugged. While trying to talk to the clerk I drool a little blood out. I’m sure he will still respect me in the morning.