Tiny Light

I'm lying here in bed
It's nearly three in the morning
And of course I'm thinking about you
Of course

I'm wondering if you're really going to do
What you said you were gonna do
If you don't get your way
And if
If I really should care

Of course we both know the answer
Yes
Of course

And I'm wondering why I care so much
Why I care so much about you
Why my heart worries so much
About you
It's funny, I suppose

Why I can barely stand the thought
Of an everyday without you
It's ridiculous, of course
Why should I care
We're both adults, free to do as we choose
Ridiculous to miss you
Of course

And yet
I'm lying here
Quietly hoping that you don't go
Because I need you to stay, of course
I've gotten so used to you
That must be it, my brain insists
You're my very own daily routine
That's why I want you to stay

Of course we both really know the answer
I need you, we both know
Of course

--"Wild Hope", 01/17/2011.

(There's Gotta Be) More to Life

Ever have the feeling that somehow drama just kind of gravitates towards you?  Ever feel like life is just an eternal kick in the pants? 

I really feel like walking up to whoever is in charge of the chaos that goes on in my life and demand a refund for a good part of the last 24.5 years.  Seriously.  I want my money back.

I am an eternal optimist, and I have to say that this shit is getting old.  So I am eschewing drama with a firm hand.  I am so tired of this lifelong struggle with the things that make me throw my hands up in the air and either A.) get pissed, B.) cry, or C.) get pissed and then cry.  So I am just saying a huge "fuck it" and letting all that shit go.  Let's address the biggest issues in my life:

My mom's family sucks, and I have always known that.  I am gonna have to give them their own post, I promise.  A family that impossibly fucked up and judgemental needs their own blog post.  Honestly.

Work...I don't know how much I can post about work without getting in trouble and/or fired.  So I'll just let out a huge GRRRRRRRRR and leave it at that.

Nicky's dad is a douche and I hate him and I hope he never runs into me while I am in the possession of any sharp objects.  At least child support is taking out some money, even though I got fucked out of how much he has to pay.  I'm going to be Zen and say that at least I'm getting more money than I was getting before child support started doing their job.

Boys are a waste of time and that's all I have to say on that subject. 

Thank you so much Nashe for being concerned about me in my shitty time of craptastic bullshit.  I'm glad you care :)

I really have to get this blogging shit back on track.  It's really cathartic to just write about my everyday struggles, moments of awesomeness, and being held back by the Man. 

Airplanes

"Can we pretend that airplanes in the night sky are like shooting stars?  I could really use a wish right now, wish right now, wish right now..."--"Airplanes", B.O.B. with Hayley Williams

Clarity is a bitch.

Sorry.  I had a rough day.  I worked eleven hours, work was super busy, I got nothing done, and I am tired.  I found out that my friend with benefits (who I wrestle feelings for off and on) is maybe seeing someone.  Probably seeing someone.  And how did I find out?  Did he tell me?  No.  So how did I find out, you ask?  Oh...She got her car serviced at the dealership today.  And she called him right in front of me, and she sounded like they were more than just friends.  And he came up front and went outside with her, and just somehow that really sucked.

Like really, really sucked.  And it shouldn't have, but shit...it did.  And I was hurt for a moment, then it went away like nothing.  But I kept thinking about it.  And it bugged me.

Gah...why does life have to be so complicated?  I'm sort of hurt, a little pissed at myself because I shouldn't be hurt at all...He's not my boyfriend, but this is all so complicated.  We have been messing around, off and on, for two years and I started out liking him, he liked me...and then we started seeing each other and then life got all stupid and something just happened between us and now we are what we are.  And now I am where I am.  I am hurt and pissed at myself and just trying to evaluate things, because he's a good friend of mine and he's there when I want him to be, and I don't want to lose that.  And the sex is pretty good too.

Stupid sex.  Sex always ruins things.  And damn him and his stupid mixed messages and actions.  Damn me for falling for him and then trying to fall out of whatever this is with him.  Damn me for being an idiot.  Damn me for letting this get so far.  Damn this for getting all tangled up and complicated.  Damn me for letting this make me kind of sad.  Damndamndamndamndamndamndamn.

And why, oh why, do I freeze up at the thought of telling him how I feel?  Goddamn it.  I hate boys and I hate romance and the stupid complexities of it that I just can't seem to grasp.

So, I could really use a wish right now.  Or some good vodka.  Or a good trip away from my head.

Me and Mr. Jones

Ahh...What a week. Full of frustrations, stupid boys and the feelings they give me, and drama, real and imagined.

I'll recap.

Okay. This has been a week chock full of baby daddy issues and the sheer ineptitude of the Cuyahoga County Child Support Enforcement Agency. Last Friday (Black Friday, coincidentally), Le Douche Extraordinaire (also known as Douchebag McGee, or Nicky's dad) calls my house, wanting to speak to yours truly. I, however, am not home, seeing as it's Friday and I'm exiled at Lakewood for ten hours. My mom calls me and gives me the run down. I'll share a brief summary of our call.

Me: Hello?
Mom: Lashawn?
Me: Hi, Mom. What's up?
Mom: Asshole called. (Doesn't she have a way with words, that mother of mine?)
Me: What the hell did he want?
Mom: He wanted to know if you were home today. He wants to bring the papers by for you to sign.
("The papers" meaning the papers I'm supposed to sign so that he gets out of paying child support. Dirty bastard.)
Me: Hell fucking no. I'm not signing shit. I already told him that. Several times.
Mom: He wants to come by Monday.
Me: I'm not signing shit, dude.
Mom: I told him he could come by but I wasn't guaranteeing that you'd sign anything.
Me: Stupid douchebag fucker.

Okay, so I can't call CSEA because those lazy bastards are on holiday for Thanksgiving. Because, you know, they're so busy not finding deadbeat dads who skip out on paying their support. Naturally. So I sit in a perpetual fit of rage all weekend long. Ruins my weekend.

Monday comes. I call CSEA and talk to this call representative guy, who turns out to be quite possibly the most brilliant man I've encountered yet over my three years of dealing with the bumbling CSEA. He tells me they sent a letter out ot his place of employment a month ago telling them to start payroll deducting the support from his checks. They got no response, so they sent another letter out ten days before I called. I'm slightly excited because I figure that maybe they have the bastard cornered. So I tell him I'm worried Douche may skip out and run to Tennessee. Awesome CSEA Guy pulls up info on Douche's wife's dad (who lives in Tennessee) and flags it in my report so that my newest case person can pursue that lead. When I hang up the phone a half hour later, I feel cautiously optimistic. The ball is finally rolling.

And then Tuesday comes. I'm in a glowing state of a good mood, and then I get a call from CSEA. Apparently, "Mr. Serrano's employer is not on file." Screeeeech. Ball comes to an abrupt stop. I ask how is that possible when they sent a letter to his job, and I'm told that "often in these situations, the father is receiving cash payment." Well...I hang up and I try calling my new case woman, whom I find out is on vacation until December 7th. Well fan-fucking-tastic. Splendid.

And the week drags on. I slog through work, feeling like God, life just about sucks right now. I look at that apartment, and I'm happy. Overjoyed. But then my best friend's husband ruins it. The guy I like and mess with from time to time (it's a long and gahhh kind of story) lives next door to the building, and he's the one who told me about said apartment for rent. Innocent enough, right? Well, my best friend mentions it to her husband, but she tells him it's in the same building, which leads him to say "She needs to quit fucking stalking him and get a life." Whoa dog. I don't stalk people. I have never stalked a dude in my life. Nonetheless, he says all this harsh and unnecessary shit which totally depresses me and makes me feel like shit.

The next few days go by without a problem. I'm thinking that perhaps the week will end nicely.

Right. I go to the grocery store with Nicky and my mom today, and just guess who I happen to be two checkout lanes away from? Just guess. Douchebag McGee and his woman. By this point I'm pretty much like are you fucking kidding me, and he glances in my direction and she glares at me repeatedly. Seriously. I haven't seen that fucker in almost four years, and suddenly I have this uncontrollable urge to smack the shit out of him. He's lucky there were no scissors nearby, or else he'd have a pair sticking out from his jaw. I, however, would like to reassure you that I am an adult and did not stab him in the jaw or smack him or even confront him. Him and his skank are the kind of people who will file a police report against you, so I did the next best thing. I talked shit about him really loudly so that he could hear me. I'm not sure if he did hear me, but it made me feel good, so that's all that matters.

I'm going to call the tragically inept CSEA tomorrow and demand some answers. I'm tired of him getting away with this crap. I also got the apartment, but I told the landlord I won't have money to put down on it until after Christmas. That doesn't work. I have to put money down on it now or he'll show it to this other girl. Ughhh. Now I have to try and borrow some money from God knows who this week or the apartment will go to someone else. Shit. Shit. Shit.

Here's to hoping this week goes the tiniest bit better.