Snackie's World

You Make Me Want To Be A Better (Wo)Man...

I was thinking about doing another TequilaCon wrap-up post that was chock full of amazing and amusing anecdotes but it seems like I've already peed my pants about five times tonight reading everyone else's posts.  So I tell you what...I'll get my gibberish out of the way then link you to a magical world of crazy drunken antics.  Oh and I mean "fucking certifiably crazy".

But before that, I'd like to bring myself to a mellow and talk about some of the more emotional aspects of this weekend as I am often prone to do.  Unbelievably, between the booze, boobie shots, hiding from Karl's flashing, constant twattering and other fun sightseeing things....I learned a lot about myself.  In fact, I think I was so busy cultivating my guts that I forgot to take pictures...I have a few of the pre-con but that's really it.  But anyway, let's talk innards....

I hate being this fat.  I'm actually working on it and was starting to lose weight right before leaving for Philly but obviously not enough to take away the extra pounds gained from last year before the big day.  So no matter how many of you want to roll your eyes at me and tell me to shut the fuck up, I'm just being honest.  There was a genuine worry on my part that feeling that way about myself would affect me more than the actual weight itself so I tried really hard to just get over it and let my light shine.  I think I did a pretty good job of it.  It's easy around this specific group of bloggers because not one of them, that I know of anyway, was even phased by that shit.  So I don't really want to dwell on that aspect too much except to say that for some reason, while super fucking drunk, it did.

I was a little lost for awhile at TequilaCon, not really knowing who to talk to...not because I had no one to talk to but because there were so many great people that I felt a bit overwhelmed.  Yes, the secret is out...even extroverts can often feel like hiding in the corner for five quiet minutes.  I went outside to "make out" a lot (our code for smoking) because most of the people I know really well smoke and it was sort of a mini haven at points.  Okay fine dammit, and I smoked too...yeah yeah, drunk smoking.

Not a lot of people know this but something happened at one point in the night that hurt my feelings...we'll just say that I overheard something that I wish I hadn't.  I wanted to walk away and just say "whatever" but I found myself running to the first person who I thought would be nice to me and somehow that person ended up being Shiny.  Don't get me wrong...it's not that I didn't think Shiny was the awesome right out of the gate but I guess I would have expected myself to run to someone else...they were all busy or outside "making out".  Not to imply that Shiny was sloppy seconds or anything ;).

The point is that the conversation I had with Shiny led to tears and as soon as that happened, he took my hand and led me down the flight of stairs faster than anything I've ever seen.  We then proceeded to talk about tons of stuff for over an hour, I'd guess...hell if I know, time just flew by.  In that hour I learned more about myself than I had all day...it was good to just sit in the moment and be quiet after a night of being a loud mouth crazy woman who checked her shyness at the departure gate at John Wayne Airport, Terminal A.  It was great to just breathe and say some things I'd needed to tell *someone* for such a long time. 

Why this story?  Well Shiny himself opened up about being a shy introverted person on his blog post tonight and I thought I'd talk a little about what it's like to be an outgoing extrovert.  Of course there are differences but I think when it all comes down to it, we're all just looking for a quiet room, a quiet mind and someone who gets us, even if it's just for that singular moment in time. 

Tomorrow I will talk about what it's like to find women that you click with when you were pretty convinced that you were the type of chick who didn't really "do" girls (that's what Karl said).  Then later in the week, I'll talk about meeting big named bloggers and what they're really like.  Everyone else is blowing the whistle on the embarrassing antics...but I'm getting to the creamy center, one post at a time.

If you want laughs, I suggest you read through my Google Reader Shared Items, which are pretty much all the crazy hijinks of bloggers...you can go from there directly to their pages and I really suggest it.  I cannot stop laughing and peeing and laughing and peeing.

Butterfly Kisses,
Me

This Is One Doodle That Can't Be Undid, Homeskillet....

I was looking over the front page of my blog this morning when I suddenly realized that I haven't written anything real in over a week.  Now then, when I say "real" I mean that ooey gooey messy stuff that comes from deep down in the bottom of my soul, whether it be beautiful or ugly.  Sometimes I just arrive at this place where I don't feel like sharing what's inside of me and go into my mode that some family members call "The Showman".  Yanno, I start tapping and singing and having fun while keeping my stuff to myself?  Yeah, that's been me recently.  I don't want you to confuse what I mean though...it's not like I am keeping things bottled up inside or anything like that.  I've just not been writing about them here mostly because they feel so redundant.

How many times and in how many ways can I belabor the issue of how I feel about going to a convention where I will see old friends and meet new bloggers all at the same time?  Maybe just this once?  I grow tired of the raging dichotomy inside of me and yet part of me is glad that this time there IS a duality of emotion.  I struggle daily with the whole fact that I am ten pounds fatter than last year (unless I lose 8 more pounds in two weeks).  While that may seem like no big deal to anyone reading this and/or may have my friends shaking their heads at how stupid I am being, let me remind you that it's not about you as much as it is about me.  It's this warped perception that I have that once the party is over, people will be whispering things about just how fat I really am.  Quite the ego, yes?  It comes down to how I feel about myself which is why I've been trying so hard to get some off before I get there, even though I won't be skinny.  It's about the way a person feels when they are in that groove and doing something positive for themselves that can make all the difference in confidence and attitude. 

So anyway, yes...there is that side of me that is always worried about how I look and what people will think.  Luckily, for some odd reason, there is another side of me that likes to bitch slap the other side.  Sometimes I think, "Well who the fuck cares that I am chubbalubba-ding dong anyway?  Seriously, Hilary...they are your friends and don't care about that kind of stuff.  They like you for who you are INSIDE".  That part of me has bought a couple of cute new shirts and wants to get a haircut and mani/pedi before seeing everyone just because she is still cute and deserves to feel good about herself.  That's the part of me that keeps on swimming but never quite reaches the shore.  Why?  Because halfway across the river, the insecure side of my drowns the other half and I have to start all over again.  Well hell, at least I'm willing to try, right?

I'm totally focusing on how much fun I am going to have and just how many people I get to finally meet and/or see again.  If I keep remembering that I am not the center of the blog world's rotation, I think I will be just fine.  Either that or I'll just remain drunk the whole time!

The Last Midnight Kisses,
Me

This Is How I Remind Me Of What I Really Am...

I wish I had a very different life than the one I have now.  Don't worry, I would take you with me to the end of everything. 

I don't want to leave you...I want to leave me.

I don't want to hate myself for being imperfect anymore.
I don't want to sit here and cry because I feel so unloved.
I don't want to be hollow and alone.

I do want to shine as brightly as I know I can.
I do want to love with every breath in my soul.
I do want to be fulfilled and important to someone.

So how do I go about that?  Do I make grand sweeping changes, thusly revealing a new me who instantly loves herself every day?  I don't think so.  Right now it seems like the more I do the "one day at a time" thing to the best of capability, the better I feel as time progresses.  Seriously, the best that I can do to stop hating my body is work out every day and eat right, yeah?  So nothing is going to magically make that self-loathing go away...it's a day by day effort that will eventually bring the results I need, both inside and out.

The problem is that you can't deal with a lot of inner turmoil type stuff the same way.  Sure, you act like an adult by going to work every day and making sure that your financial house in in order.  You also try to be a good person by not succumbing to hatred and gossip.  If you are really lucky, you touch one or more people without even knowing it and your life has even more meaning just because of that.

You sing, you dance, you talk, you laugh and you just try to make it through until one day, you realize that you're either not heard as much as you should be, not loved the way you want to be or not as important as you think you are.  You're a blip on someone's busy schedule, a missed call or an email that gets lost in the shuffle because they have so many.  You start to agonize and agonize until you realize that you've become way too dependent on someone else's version of your own self-worth.  This is the person that you are supposed to be MOST important to and yet, you're just not anymore.

That's sort of where I am right now...stripped raw for the whole blogosphere to see.  This post was going to go in a different direction that was more angry and a helluva lot more cryptic.  But what I realized is that while I am hurt and angry at someone, this is more about me and what I allow into my own life.   Besides, one change I am trying to make is remembering that this is MY blog and I should not be held down by who might say what to whom...fuck that shit.

But back to me...Is it so much to want to shine light a twinkly little star?  I don't mean that in the "needy ego whore" kind of way at all...more like, I just need to make changes and shine.  My heart needs a trip to the dry cleaner, I guess.  I just want to see something in myself that others seem to see.  I just want...eh, forget it.  I promise to bring Fun Hilly back tomorrow.

Twinkle Twinkle Kisses.
Me

Returning To Blog Life, Peace by Peace....

When I quickly slapped a peace sign up on Saturday, I had no intention of it becoming the SnackiePeace Movement.  However, thanks mostly to Dave, the movement was born and it has been a delightful treat to see people across the blogosphere pimping their awesome peace signs.  If you missed the post on Saturday and/or have no idea what I'm talking about, go here.  I'll wait....

So, here's the thing.... that peace sign, that post, and the thoughts that flow just below the surface of it all are not about one person or one situation.  It's more my way of saying that we all need to calm the fuck down for a moment and embrace the good things in life.  Being angry at the world or at people that probably deserve it?  Well, that's easy.  However, it takes a real strength of character to walk away and refuse to play people's games.  The reality of a situation like that is that you will never win....not for yourself, anyway.  We're so conditioned to NOT put our fingers in our ears and sing "la-la-la-la" that we forget that sometimes it is actually okay to do so! 

We've all been around and we've all seen things that we wish we hadn't.  Whether it be highly unnecessary blog drama, personal drama, relationship drama or anything else that is downright hateful and hurtful, it's always hard to give peace a chance.  My problem is that I've got a superhero complex and turn into Captain Save-A-Friend more often than not.  I used to be able to justify my behavior regarding getting involved in dramatic situations because "I was doing it for a good cause".  It's funny to look back at the lies I've told myself so that I would feel like a better person all around.  It's a challenge to step back, throw your peace sign in the air, and stop defending people who either need to defend themselves or just walk away as well.

I've Got A Good Mind To Throw It All Away....

We talk about it behind closed doors all of the time.  There is mention of feeling forced to be creative even when the juices have stopped flowing.  Some people raise their hands and gently remind us all of the nasty comments and hate mail that sometimes plague them.  Others sit quietly, feeling unappreciated and unloved because no one comes over to their places and says hello.  And no matter what, there's the one Pollyanna in the room that reminds us of the good that shines through all of that darkness, making this all worthwhile.

Someone always tries to be a therapist....and I've finally learned that it's okay to be at my wits end with blogging.  I'm "allowed" to feel exasperated and at a loss for words.  Even those of us with what I call "the anecdotal eye" run out of ways to turn even a trip to the grocery store into an amazing story.  The therapist also piped up and said, "But you shouldn't worry about how well written your posts are if you are writing for yourself". 

But here's where *I* am...I write for myself and for others but no matter what I am writing, I'd like it to not suck, thanks.  I've probably got PMS or I'm probably just busy at work this week but I'm tired....writing in my blog seems more like a duty than anything else.  That's not ever how I wanted it to be.  I never wanted to groan because I "have to make a blog entry".  I never wanted to roll my eyes because suddenly people are mad at me or not talking to me simply because I dared to be myself.  I won't strip myself of the Technicolor and become black and white for anyone. 

I'm taking a break from writing in my blog...it could last a day or it could last a week; I honestly don't know.  This doesn't mean that I am hiding from all of you and want you to go away...I will still be on email and probably will still be reading blogs when I can.  I'm just putting blogging on the back shelf behind the other stuff like work, exercise and completing some various other projects.  The truth is that if I don't take this break, I will probably walk away for good.  I'm quite liberal with cancellations and delete buttons, as it's been pointed out.  I need to go spring clean myself so that I come back as alive and kicking as ever. 

No, this is not an April Fool's joke, btw!

Frou Frou Kisses.
Me

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Breakfast Table In An Otherwise Empty Room....

I'm the first one to roll my eyes quite mightily when someone uses the sins of their parents as an excuse to take place in cocksuckerry and douchebaggery.  A lot of us have had parents that really fucked us up though.  I think it's safe to assume that no matter how much mental health one professes to have, there is a part of them that will always be shaped by incidences in the past.  For the record, I have no problem with that...that's natural.  I think my eye-rolling begins when someone says, "Well I slept with your husband because my father abandoned me as a child".  Please, shut the fuck up now.

I've been shaped by my parents and notice it more and more every day.  I told a story the other night and immediately realized that I sounded exactly like my Dad....hell, even Shawn pointed it out.  The funny thing about it all is that I got most of my positive traits that I embrace from my Dad whereas the negative ones that I fight daily?  Gee, thanks Mom.  It's hard when you open your eyes and realize that you have partially become exactly what you feared for so many years.  But hell, if you can at least recognize it, you are on your way to making changes to knock the shit off like...toot sweet.

Cardboard Masks Of All The People I've Been....

There's that brief, perfect moment every morning when I just wake up.  I sink a little deeper into my down comforter and turn into my pillow while my cat rubs his little nose against my face.  It's probably the best moment of my day.  That is....until around midnight when my Trazodone kicks in and I fall asleep enveloped in that same comforter while listening to the sounds of either Homer Simpson or something older, in the black and white variety.  Sadly, the moments when I feel like I can just be myself and finally find some peace all revolve around my bed and not in any kind of fun way whatsoever, thanks.

I wrote a post two years ago about masks and how we go through life wearing different ones.  In that particular entry, the comments that stunned me the most were the ones where people swore up and down that they never wear masks and are always capable of being 100% themselves.  Truth be told, I don't become as cynical as one would think when I hear something like that.  More so, I pause, incapable of believing such wondrous moments exist!  I mean....shit the bed!  Someone in this world never has to wear a mask (or has never had to)?  Sign me up!

Right now, I'm totally Scarlett O'Hara.  As a matter of fact, I'm not just wearing her mask but am also wearing the full blown costume, bitches!  I keep sweeping all of the "icky stuff" under the rug and convincing myself that I will deal with it tomorrow.  Let me give you a tip....when you live like that, tomorrow never comes.  Well, at least not for me.  I have no idea how many tomorrows I've seen and yet, I still haven't dealt with the most base problems because truth be told, I have no solution....none.  I am sick and fucking tired of being all innovative and making my square issues fit into a round bin by scrunching them down so that they mean less than they should.  I'm tired of finding every solution under the sun in the hope that it will work when I really know what I should do.  It's almost like when you are craving chocolate chip cookies, right?  Yet because you are trying to NOT eat the cookies, you eat everything else in the house?  Yeah, that.

Anyway, back to me, Ms. O'Hara and our thousand tomorrows.  I'm starting to feel like that "Where Does Depression Hurt?" commercial because living like this serves no purpose except to make me a stagnant piece of shit really.  There is so much of life to be lived and loved and maybe I could start doing so if I'd just take off this fugly ass "curtain" dress and face the music. Today I finally took one tiny step towards breaking the cycle and I hope that tomorrow I take one more then another and another and so on.  Hrm, maybe some time away from the internets is called for.  It's rather hard to look inside of myself with all of these shiny distractions around me.

I swear to God though...if I am talking about the same cryptic subject next year at this time, I give you permission to shoot me.  Seriously, my analogies are getting old. 

Frankly My Kisses, I Don't Give A Damn.
Me

Love My Way, It's A New Road...

Sometimes I think I can read people perfectly....that I've got them figured out.  No, not all the way figured out but just enough that I know the basics.  It gets really tough trying to figure all of that out so I don't try and I just go with my gut instinct generally.

Like a lot of things lately....it's out of whack.  Why?  Because I made a decision to stop thinking with my heart and to start thinking with my head.  I thought that would "cure" me of a pattern and make things easier and better. 

But it's made things worse.  Being rational and doing things because they're what I should do (head) makes me feel so suppressed.  I'm not talking about things like brushing my teeth or going to work...bigger things.  You know, those things that define our personalities.  Do you look before you leap or do you just jump in feet first? 

I'm not as much of a thinker as I am a feeler.  Maybe letting my heart lead me around is what makes me....me.  Maybe doing the right thing is actually doing the wrong thing.  When the hell did I start basing my life decisions on the greater good and what people will think rather than how I will feel?

I'm just thinking aloud.  My heart sort of hurts today but I've haven't pieced together the exact reason why.  I think I've lost touch with how I feel about certain people and making sure that they know they are loved by me (by me and nobody else but me..bump!).

You know how some of you have met me and know me as the person who will pretty much admit to everything and tell you exactly how she feels about you?  Yeah, that girl has been sitting in a corner while her reserved counter part has been eating all of the cupcakes.

No more...back to heart not head. 

Psychedelic Kisses,
Me

 

FYI: COMMENTS ARE TAKING A WHILE TO SHOW UP SO PLEASE DON'T WORRY IF YOU DON'T SEE YOURS RIGHT AWAY - THANKS!

The One Where I Let My Guard Down....

If you'll allow me, I'd like to turn off the fun just for today.  I want to leave the witty girl over there on the side of the road, hitchhiking her way out of self-loathing masked as a well-placed joke.  I don't want to be "on" or worry about what people are going to think when I say what I need to say today.  So please, if this is your first time with me, enjoy the crisis...the regularly scheduled Hilly will be back shortly....

I pray that none of you ever feel how I feel right now, although sadly I know that some of you do and/or some of you have.  It's something to truly stand in front of a mirror and cry because you loathe yourself so damned much.  Well, maybe not all of yourself but the part of you that never seems to get better...the one thing you can't seem to get right....ever.

I Am A Poster Girl With No Poster.....

Whenever I get a bit snarky and fed up with meanness,  I'm fond of telling the culprit that there's a huge difference between being witty and being a totally heinous bitch.  Because we all know that to be true, right?

It's a really hard balance to achieve and sometimes I feel as if I'm letting it slip away from me.  What if my tendency to always be sarcastic and funny is seen by someone else as me just being a pathetically bitch-assed whore?  I mean, I don't think that's me but what if it is and I just don't know it, yanno?  And then there's that saying...."sarcasm is the lowest form of humor".  Really?  *I* think there's quite a bit of cleverness mixed in with my sarcasm, creating what I like to call "snarkasm".  But I can see how someone who doesn't understand me might not love me so much.

I've thought about this a lot, can you tell?

For me, the difference between being witty and being a bitch is easy...it's in the intent.  Were I ever to purposely set out to be cruel and hurt someone's feelings, that would make me a snatchy-la-la for sure.  However, if I'm just joking around with my BFFs and other fine folk who like me, are very tongue-in-cheek, and someone gets offended?  Please just tell me rather than talk about me behind my back.  Chances are that I don't even know youve taken what I've said personally because honestly...I hang out with people whose senses of humor move a million miles a minute, which is even faster than mine.

I never laugh at anyone else's expense unless it is good natured ribbing or they deserve it (that's a joke, see?).   I don't set out to hurt anyone and if I do, I like to immediately apologize.  And most of my sarcastic remarks are highly self-deprecating.  Okay then, check check check.

This post is serving as a moral inventory of sorts because someone called me heartless earlier.  Me?  Heartless?  Tell me if I'm wrong but I don't think that's me at all.  It kind of makes you sit down and question yourself for a moment when someone says something like this to you.

Then again, one has to consider the source.

My Heart Is A Marshmallow Kiss,
Me

Round Two, I'm Down To Do What It Takes To Make You....

Okay okay, if you're a feed reader junkie then you know I previously had a post up and took it down.  You have two choices when it comes to what you believe my reason was for taking down that post:

1.) I felt that I should give the Blogger of the Month his full 24 hours in the spotlight.
2.)  I'm so emotionally psychotic that having a meme as my post made me feel all squiffy and icky so I had to just get rid of it.  You see, I don't normally post memes and even though I tried, it just felt so wrong.

Believe whichever of those you need in order to love me in the morning but I'll tell you this...I am a flipping mess right now.  It started out harmless enough...the tears welling up with every little teevee show that I watched.  Then there was the irrational anger and wishing every person on the road would just die and get the fuck out of my way.  And then it all progressed to tears of rage over something so minute as defending Hillary Clinton and her own damned "tears" (especially when I am pro-Obama right now...wtf?).

So, what the HELL was going on?.....

With A "Snort, Snort" Here.....

I know that I should be posting the next of my "What's New?" series but I say fuck it....my blog, my rules!  Actually that feisty and cantankerous attitude comes more from this death plague (which some call the flu, I guess) that has settled upon my head and made it's way to my chest.  Dang man, I tell you what.....I feel like crap on a cracker.  Seriously!  Last night I crawled into bed around 6pm to watch teevee and let my cold pills kick in or whatever and before I knew it, my eyes were heavy and I wanted to sleep.  I fought myself though because in my mind falling asleep during the "dinner hour" is a very bad idea.  So I just decided to put my anal notions aside and let my eyes close fully.  I woke again at midnight, ate a few slices of turkey while watching The Simpsons, then crashed out until this morning.  And I'm still tired!

Anyway, as I watched TV Land and drifted in and out of sleep, they kept showing Beverly Hillbillies promos and talking about Granny and her panties.  No, I am not making this shit up.  In any case, it made me dream about something out of my past that I thought would be a pleasant little story to share.

In My Head.....

I've been crying on and off all day.  I feel.....loss. 

Then again, I don't think I'm feeling very well.  Every time I stand up and walk around I get really dizzy and have to either sit or lay down. Who knows what that's about.

Anyway, back to the loss issue.  Have you ever convinced yourself of something in your head so exquisitely that you just *know* that one day it is going to actually be a truth instead of a fantasy?  I'm not talking about dreams like rolling around in money while snorting coke off of a whore's ass or anything like that.

I'm talking about stuff that's real.  Or rather, that you wish could be real.  Things that you are adamantly certain will one day be billed as absolute truth rather than fictional nonsense.  There are these things that you secretly dream of and no matter how much you know they are not steeped in reality, giving up the dream would almost be like giving up hope.

Then it happens.  Reality hits you and it hurts so fucking bad that you don't know what to do because not a lot of people will understand the pain of losing something that was never really yours to begin with.

But the idea....it was so sweet and something you just needed to get you through when times were really rough.  And even though I feel as if I'm dying inside just a little at the thought of letting it go, I know that part of me won't.  I'll cry and then decide to let it move back in because it comforts me.  Besides, I'm not sure how to say goodbye to this thought....no, not at all.

If I've confused you, I'm sorry.  I'm typing through tears and probably not making a ton of sense to those people who don't live inside of their heads now and again.

But I'm certain that somewhere someone must know how it feels.

I've Got No More Kisses To Give,
Me

Will You Let The Morning Come Soon?

I've got two days until the move and I am oddly calm about the whole thing.  There's been no running around like a chicken with my head cut off, no stressing over time and definitely not a lack of boxes for once.  Still, I feel a bit hinky when things are in disarray.  I'm the type of person that likes a clean house, hates clutter and strives to not be walking around on floor crumbs while packing, thanks.  There's really nothing I can do about the imperfect state of chaos chez Cheeky Monkey other than accept it and move on. 

One of the ways that I have been doing this is by isolating myself in the guest room and watching teevee...a lot.  See, I'm still okay with being a lazy ass for half of the day/night because I'm realistically still supposed to be healing and taking it easy.  Anyway, we had sold the bed in the guest room a week or so ago but Shawn was kind enough to drag the comfy black leather recliner all the way upstairs so I could rest and watch teevee up there, as I usually do.  The first couple of days, when I was in pain pill city, it was quite fun and like my own little alcove, if you will.  But take away a need for pills that make you high, and you're just sitting in a dark room watching teevee, alone and sad.  Sorta.

If You Have Nothing Nice To Say.....

Lately I've not been feeling like myself in the sense that I am way more humble than usual.  Yanno, it's not like I lack humility in general but there is always that little attention whore in me that feels the need to comment on a blog, even when the shit I have to say is really not necessary.  Lately, I've not been doing that.

There's famous saying that goes a little something like this: "Do not speak unless you can improve on the silence".  But how the hell do you know when the silence is good and necessary vs. when you really need to say something to someone?  Generally, when I get out of sorts with a person, I head right for them and try to figure out what the hell is going on.  I've always been a ball-busting force of "let's fix it" nature but lately I feel like I'm curving my body to fit everyone else's bow. 

I never miss a good chance to shut up.  I know when it is time to dial it back and stay quiet.  But I also associate silence with extreme anger because that is where I go when I don't know how to contain my vitriolic words.  People that know me well exclaim, "Oh she's quiet....Hilary must be pissed!"  It's good fun and all that, but it is sadly also true.

But back to the bow and the curving.....what do you think is better?  Staying quiet and leaving well enough alone when it eats at you OR saying what you need to say and letting the chips fall where they may?  What do you do?

I'm sure the answer would be to find peace in the unspoken words but seriously....have you met me?

Silence Is Not Always Golden Kisses,
Me

The Sound Of Pulling Heaven Down.....

I was all set to follow my usual routine last night....yanno, write my post while watching CSI:NY then set it to publish sometime in the midnight hour.  Yes, that was the plan.....until I sat down and my computer to spill guts and started to cry for at least a half an hour.  At that point in time, I was just going to write a few simple sentences telling you all that I felt broken and asking if anyone would just hold my hand and let me feel that way for a slight minute.  And yet, somehow I didn't want to be that depressing after two rather angry-ish posts the days before.  Lightblulb!  I then remembered that Sue had asked everyone yesterday to share who they are and I had made a plan to make a whole "Who I Am" post, written with the same flavor as my "This I Believe" post.  But gah, narf and mrph......that just made me cry more because the only part of "who I am" that I could come up with was the sad and negative stuff.  So my post was going to be a few simple lines telling you that I was trying to define who I am and asking if any of you could please tell me what you see in me to help me remember the good in who I am.  And yet, I didn't want to be needy so I decided to just give up and put the laptop away.

That's the thing about blogging....a person can choose to just write whatever they want at the time and let it all hang out OR they can know when to walk away and let things rest inside befroe it gets all dramatic and shit up in heaaaa.  Now now, we all know that I am not one to be stingy with my soul and guts, but I ask you....how much more of my mope with a side of vitriol can you guys take?  Shit, I can't even take it, hah!  Ironically, the first post I read this morning totally made me laugh and think of something that I'd been meaning to say for a long time.  You see, RW is one of my favorite bloggers out there because he is so not afraid to just tell it like it is and we all know how much I love that shit.  His post today had me nodding, smiling and saying, "fuck yeah".  He talks about his blog, some grammar stuff and then hits on how some bloggers slide by with their popularity rather than trying anymore.  You'd have to read it, so go ahead...I'll wait.

Day Six: Here I Go Impossible Again.....

Friday was this blend of awesome pie and asshole salad, truth be told.  Every time I turned around, I was facing another emotion in yet another mirror and nothing was the same all day long.  I vacillated between extremes and it was interesting to see myself completely handle that shit better than I have in a long time.  You see, I've got this friend who taught me something rather important on Thursday night and it keeps resonating in my head, pushing me forward and making me realize what's important.  It's not sitting and looking at one thing as this grand failure to which the rest of my life is measured, but more as just a little something that happened to push me into a direction that I may be meant to follow anyway. 

And so, upon hearing his advice, I remembered to let go and breathe for the first time in well...forever.

How I Wonder What You Are.....

Just a simple thought today....I was listening to VAST's Desert Garden earlier and the words "the sky is big and my life is small" resonated through the air just as strongly as the coffee flowed through my veins.  I realized at that moment that I've been living under a very different type of attitude recently...the "too many stars and not enough sky" attitude, to be exact.  At that very moment, I decided that the world is not too crowded and I am insane for allowing myself to feel stifled.  No one can do something to me if I don't allow it, right?

I'm just this one little star in a sea of milions, resting in the vast night sky.  It's not that it's too crowded but more that I seem to either be sitting beside a star that doesn't shine at all or one that is too bright and overpowering.  I wonder how it's possible for a star to steal my sunshine? 

I'm a small little speck who makes her own happiness and finds her own importance in this world.  I just need to shift energy focus to give it to the right people now.

I'm taking applications.....if you think your star could sit by mine and be a positive influence, please fill out the paperwork and leave your references.

I Wish I May Kisses,
Me

The Wisdom To Know The Difference....

I wore giant blinders throughout most of my formative years.  I was much more of a "black and white" person in my twenties, believing that right was right, wrong was wrong.  I was kind of the asshole that would not back down and/or see someone else's side of anything.  I did life *my* way and if you didn't like it, you could pretty much go sit down and fuck yourself.  Strange thing is, that I am sure the above epiphany would make you think that I was just this awful person with this blackened heart but it was quite the opposite.  Deep down inside, I was this compassionate, forgiving, loving, loyal and kind person who was just plain scared to let anyone see that side of her.  Part of me thinks that was due to growing up overweight and another part of me thinks that was due to my mother's insanity.  One of her mottos was "what happens inside this house stays inside this house".  We were told to paint on smiles and politeness wherever we went, even if we'd just come from a two-hour session of her mental abuse.

The Line In The Sand When I Go Too Far

I've been doing so wonderfully at eating well and moving my ass lately but yesterday that came to a very loudly obnoxious screeching halt.  To be fair, it started with Sunday night and the great Trader Joe's debacle.  You see, since the dawn of time (or, since the dawn of me shopping at TJ's), I've wanted nothing more than to try their mini chocolate-chocolate bundt cakes.  I've always managed to avoid them, knowing that the calories and fat in one of those fuckers could feed me for a week.  But I did it, took the plunge, tasted the chocolate and you know what?  They weren't half as good as I'd thought they would be.  All of that build up and I was left deflated and disappointed.  Mind you, that didn't stop me from eating the damned thing.

Yesterday, I made an impromptu decision to visit SJ and have a girls afternoon of lunch and erm, pie.  I hadn't eaten anything too heinous at lunch and as SJ is always fond of saying, I played with my food more than I ate it.  I think I get that way when I am talking about a subject or two that really captures my interests and makes my "eyes dance".  Ahem, anyway....it was great to get out with her and just completely shoot the shit without the barriers and walls that I have to put up around so many other people.  If you took my quiz yesterday and came to the conclusion that my really close friendships are few yet arbitrary, you would have been correct.  Each person that I am close with brings something to my life that I really respect, love and need and I hope that I do the same in kind.

Make Me Laugh, Say You Know What You Want....

Even though I'd been pretty sick and miserable all weekend, I did manage to get in some house-cleaning time.  Mostly laundry, dishes, surface cleaning...nothing too heinous.  However there was one project I did not get to and I really should have - getting the elephant out of the room.  I really meant to take that elephant to Goodwill so that someone else could hide behind it for awhile when needed, yet like Linus with a blanket, I couldn't let go.  The thing about my elephant is that it's no longer all that messy.  Sure when it first came to me, it was 10 thousand pounds of muss and fuss....a total dirty ball of confusing stinky parts, if you will.  But as time wore on, I think it mimicked the cleaning habits of my cat because each day it seemed a bit less dingy and unmanageable. 

That's the thing about elephants, though.....if you let them sit in the middle of the room for too long, they become a permanent fixture.  Somehow after that, it's hard to let go and say goodbye....it's hard to expose yourself to a full room of nothingness without a big ton of fun to keep you company when you feel alone.  I keep thinking that someone probably needs this elephant more than I do and I feel bad for hogging it up for so damned long. 

The truth is, no matter how I spin it, no matter how much I believe the positive angle I've put on it.....stripped of all my bullshit and bravado, I am so scared.  So scared that tears stream down my cheek as I write this and imagine the road ahead.  Yep, I am so scared and so alone.

And I've still got to manage to get rid of this big pink elephant.

Just Kisses,
Me

All These Places Have Their Moments.....

Or is that the other way around, I wonder?

Anyway, this last weekend when Foo and I were driving up to Hollywood, we somehow wandered upon the topic of jobs and losing them, more accurately.  At the time,  I told Foo that I had never been fired from a job, even though I'd "voluntarily resigned" in order to save face and get a good reference, ahem.  I totally lied to her....well, I did not *lie* but I forgot about the one time that I got "let go". 

I Hope You Don't Mind That I Put Down In Words....

Today's post is designed to give you a break between the "how awesome was Disneyland?" post and tomorrow's inevitable "how awesome was Dave LA?" post.  There will be no Snackie Sunday this week but maybe in this story I am going to tell, you'll have a thought or an opinion and we can count THIS as Snackie Sunday (heh).  Now the story I am about to tell you is not about me going on a fishing expedition nor is it about me feeling down on myself.  It's something that happened, that was said, and has stuck to me until this very day.  So as usual, I am going to over analyze the crap out of it!

My sister and I went to Summer Camp in the Poconos for two years during our high school days.  Everybody had the hots for my sister, and everybody felt like I *was* their sister.  It's not like I didn't have my little camp boyfriends; hell, I've always done alright for myself....it's just that I had more guy friends that told me I was their little sister in one summer than I've had in my life.  Clearly it was before I learned about the expiration date when you slip from being a potential to "such a good buddy".   By the way women, if you want me to teach you the ins and outs of the "expiration date theory" that I've invented, feel free to ask ;).

Anyway, one of my "big brothers" who really was someone quite awesome generally, found me crying one night over something or probably someone.  Our conversation somehow turned to siblings and how his sisters were beautiful and he was just so-so.  I mentioned something about my sister and he said, "Yeah it's funny because everyone in a family gets one good thing; she got all the looks and you got all of the personality!".  Just marinate on that for a moment....I'll wait.

Oh, Give Me One Reason To Be Beautiful.....

I've been sitting here filling out some paperwork and stuff while watching Celebrity Mole** on DVD.  I realized earlier today that I needed to make a blog entry badly and not just a fluff one either, but rather a real one.  It's been awhile since I wrote in my own blog about my own self and now it somehow seems strange.  Just last week I told Foo that I may be giving up blogging for good sometime soon and there was no part of me that regretted those words coming out of my mouth.  This is still a decision weighing heavily on my mind and I've found no conclusion....but I will definitely speak up when I do.  Hell, leaving the ins and outs of the PRB wasn't even the main point of this post, but I drifted as I am want to do.

Remember When I Thought You Were Gay?

Anger is not pretty on me.  Honestly, it's not a good color on anyone but of course, I tend to notice it more when the mental vitriol is spewing from my mind casting an evil spell over someone else's face.  The events which led to today's breakdown were not huge by any means, but I pretty much lost it and wished horrible sexual diseases on the grocery store cashier (in my mind).  After work, I went to the grocery store to pick up a few little things for dinner.....the store seems to be a daily occurrence recently because I lack the desire to eat hardly anything so I live in the moment with my food.  In any case, after tooling around for only 10-15 minutes, deciding on a pork roast and red potatoes followed by some Phish Food for dessert, I sauntered up to the counter. 

Okay I really didn't saunter...there was ice cream at stake and it's hot out!  I started to get frustrated at how slowly the line was moving, mentally blaming it on the lady two in front of me, wickedly assuming she was paying with WIC coupons.  Nope, as I got closer, I saw that the cashier was just a pile of slow suck.  After it took her a good half hour to ring up dood in front of me then get to me, my bill came to $50.30 (there were other items besides those listed above but those would bore you).   I handed her a 100 dollar bill and 30 cents, yanno...to make it easy on her.  She could not figure out how to type in $100.30 and jammed the machine.  A supervisor had to come over and it took a good ten minutes.  *Gasp* -- my ice cream!

Una Puerta Se Cierra, Otra Se Abre.....

For those of you keeping track, yes I am going all International on your asses this week....there is a reason, which you will soon discover!

Anyway, sometimes I feel like I have to preface my posts.  I once told a friend that I tend to drop caveats a lot at the beginning or end of my entries and he said, "Screw that, Hil.  You don't owe anyone an explanation when talking about your feelings".  The thing is, I don't necessarily feel as if I am ever judged for the things that I say here....it's more that whole "can't judge inflection and emotion on the net" thing.  I could write something that would make you all think I am a depressed mess and yet were you sitting in a room with me, the tone would sound more matter of fact.  Of course, with that said, the following revelations come from a woman who is rather calm and introspective rather than sad and anxious.

Life right now seems to be a series of heinous aftershocks.  There will be a minor storm that blows through my life and as soon as I calm down and begin to unclench, whammo bammo....something else crazy happens. Some would say it's just how life goes and I would totally tend to agree.  No matter how proactive one tries to be, no matter how much ass she kicks....there are still things that are hanging out there ready to say hello when least expected. 

Just What God Needs....One More Victim

I had a pretty empowering day today.  You know how sometimes we get caught in this vicious cycle of having these crappy days that are all reactionary?  It seems to go on for weeks and weeks, one thing or another "popping out of the bushes" every single time we think that things are completely settled.  I think it becomes easy to become somewhat of a victim, even when we don't realize it, right?  I mean, hey....the unknowing victim is the most messed up kind.  This person believes that he or she is strong and is handling everything coming his or her way.  While this is partially true, there is a bit of weakness in sitting down and letting life come at you while you're unprepared for it every single damned day....especially if you are smart enough to have noticed the pattern.

Chicken Soup For The Blogger's Soul**

It's so strange how peace and understanding can be born out of the darkest chaos, isn't it?  It's like at times, life is this frenetic ball of never-ending strife and we move along and do the best we can, even though we just don't see a way out.  It gets tedious, draining and can cause many emotional and physical symptoms that seem to occur every single moment of every single day.  Our hearts hurt, our bodies hurt, our nerves are shot and our tolerance levels are at an all-time low.  These are the times, those dark times, that they say cause the light...you know, some crap about always being darkest before the dawn?  The other day, I was thinking that was pure hogwash but yesterday I may have changed my mind just a bit.

I was sitting at the dining room table, trying to find some sort of structure for my life by making lists, spreadsheets, powerpoint presentations, graphic representations of me....you know, anything but really deal with the reality of the situation.  Beauty of Speed cycled through my iTunes and the following lyrics shot through me in an instant:

"I Guess You Might Say He's Barking Up The Wrong Bush."

I hate running errands with anyone that I work for....there's that awkward chit chat that you really don't want to be having, the inevitable moment where you give up what YOU want so that they can "win" and mostly, the chance that they'll realize who you really are beneath that "work surface'".  While walking out of a store in San Diego today with my fifty-something, white, and over-privileged boss, we were bombarded by both a homeless man and a Republican petitioner.  I quickly gave the homeless man a dollar bill and shot down the petitioner by putting my hand up and saying, "no thanks".  My boss quizically looked at me and said:

"Wait - you're giving positive attention to that ragamuffin and negative attention to that hard working young man?"
"No - I am helping out someone who is down on his luck and not helping the Republicans pass a bill that will lengthen their terms in office."
"Well if we make the right political decisions, we can probably end homelessness.....eventually."
"Exactly.  That's why I am helping today."

I remember back in my late teens when I worked at a Burger King in "downtown" Modesto.  There was a man that stood outside every day begging for money and like many jaded asshole teenagers, I thought he would use it to buy booze or drugs.  But I started seeing him more and more around town and he was always buying a meal or coffee with his money.  I don't know what he did with ALL of it, but at least he was using some of it to eat.  One day, he came into BK when we were having that dollar Whopper special and ordered three of them.  I was behind the counter and treated him like any other customer, calling him "sir" and making sure he got impeccable customer service.  I remember getting reprimanded later for spending too much time catering to a "nobody".  That pissed me off.

Flash forward back to today...after leaving my boss at his car, I walked one section of the plaza over so that I could get something to eat.  As I approached the Arby's I noticed that same homeless dude standing outside, or rather getting pushed outside.  The manager was saying "shoo" (literally, people) and telling him that he had the right to refuse service to anyone.  Technically, he does but cut the crap...it was Arby's!  I asked the man if he was just outside of Home Depot earlier and he said yes then thanked me for my dollar.  Wow, he remembered my dollar?  Anyway....he told me that all he wanted was a roast beef sandwich and was tired of being invisible, even when he did have money.  In conversation, he called himself a nobody, worthy of "nothin".  I asked him what exactly he had wanted then told him I would order it for him.  He looked scared to give me the last of his money, as if I would take it and abscond with his Arby's.  Of course, I looked at him like he was crazy and told him it was my treat.  I bought it, he said thanks, life carried on as normal for everyone.

When I reached my car, I broke down and started to stream these huge crocodile tears.  I don't pretend to know the political ramifications of homelessness, nor do I pretend that every person that begs for money will use it for something good.  But I do know that something somewhere happened to that man and it could happen to any of us.  I also know that no one deserves to feel like they are nobody...just invisible and worthless.  If you could have seen the defeat in his eyes....just wow.

That Arby's Can Suck Me Kisses,
Me

I Go Dancing In....

Sometimes I get tired of shedding my skin.

Oh, let me explain.....I feel as if every few years I change everything.  This includes my friends, my living situation, my job, my views, my beliefs, my choice of panty style, blah blah.  It's always been easier to just let go of everything when I get extremely tired of who I am.  Forget about *fixing* shit.....just wipe the blood stains from the floorboards and start off fresh!  I know this is not a healthy way to live at all.  I mean, we totally have to reinvent ourselves now and again and/or change the things that really need the upgrade.  However, to completely just wipe away most of what I hate and get all new toys?  Errr, yeah.

Some people around here (the PRB) have commented or e-mailed me, stating that they notice a distinct change in my demeanor.  No one has necessarily said that my cool factor has left the building (yet), but there is a lot of, "I can just tell you aren't your normal perky and snarky self".  I got tired of explaining to people that I've been going through some major growing pains in my life and even worse, explaining it in a very cryptic fashion (kinda like I do here!).  I also got tired of telling people only to have them judge me or ask me to defend my position on my own frakking life.  So I became quiet about the nasty storm inside of me and painted on a fake smile and danced for everyone.

I think I can describe it now without being cryptic though...the emotions at least.  I am not depressed nor am I angry.  I am not going insane, contrary to popular belief.  I'm also not on a world tour of pissing in your Cheerios.  It's simply that for the first time in my life, I am sitting in my discomfort and working on learning to accept those things that I don't effing *need* to change.  It's about feeling squiffy because I am dealing rather than sweeping under a rug and calling a moving truck.  So it's as if my head won't every shut the hell up even though I politely ask it to.  In the end though, this is going to be a very good move on my part.  My Dad seems to think that this is the longest that I've stayed in one place, one situation, one state of mind and that maybe it is just foreign and scary to me.  I seem to think that I get easily bored with everything and need to figure out why that is.

You know what is great medicine in times like these?  Television.  I'm not kidding....if I try to read a book, my mind wanders to all of those unanswered questions that are on "repeat".  So lately I've been hooking into TV marathons on the Sci Fi channel or on my DVDs and I have to tell you that the repetitive brain-dead action of staring at the warm glow of my "picture box" really does help. 

Anyway, that's how I feel right now.  Just plain un-fucking-comfortable in my own skin and trying not to shed all of it at once.

Syurpent Kisses,
Me

Beneath My Dignity To Climb A Tree.....

Does anyone else find themselves watching a movie for the 14th time, not only because it is good but also because they completely relate to one of the characters?  For me that movie and character is Amélie.  Every time that movie is on one of the cable channels, I generally sit down to watch it.....hell, I even put away my laptop and pay complete attention!  Maybe it is something just classically French that makes the movie appeal to me but I suspect that it really is Amélie herself that perks up my day.  She's a responsible adult who pays rent, has a job, etc.  Yet at the same time, she's not fully ready to grow up and loves her fun little pranks and well-intentioned "strategems".

I often feel as if I'm not a grown-up and wonder if I ever will be one.  Sure I go to work (well technically I stay home and work, but yanno what I mean), pay bills, take care of the household, and follow these very adult patterns.  Sometimes though, I feel as if I am watching myself from a bubble in the sky, wondering who the hell this person is giving instructions to the landscape artist or what have you.  Sure, part of me was *born* to get in a dither over the correct shade of shutters for the house and yet the other part, not so much.