Monster

I seem to be attracted to bad relationships. Honestly. Perhaps that's why I prefer being single.

What brought on that astute observation? Well, I was sitting here, cataloging all the idiotic men in my life, and they are just that: idiotic. I have wasted a huge chunk of my adult life on morons. I don't know what it is about them that pulls me into their ridiculous orbit. I really don't.

You would think that since I am so smart, I'd have figured this out a long time ago and saved my heart some grief. Apparently romance is where my heart and brain part company. My brain, no doubt brilliant and rational, often tells my illogical, irrational heart that it has serious issues. My heart, on the other hand, just continues its self-destructive dance to heartbreak.

And I've also realized that I can't seem to catch the eye of normal guys. I've tried. All I get are the idiots. And idiots they have been: a handful of urban wannabes, a guy who played me and his wife at the same time for nearly two years (and who unfortunately happens to be Nicky's dad), a really weird short guy who had the tendency to cry, put me down in weird ways, and told me he loved me after two weeks, all while bragging to my ex-friend's husband's family that he was banging me--and, I find out that oh-so-coincidentally he's said ex-friend's husband's sister's baby daddy...And then there's the latest one, who I've been messing with on and off for the past two and a half years. He is yummy, but I think he thinks he's the real life incarnation of Jamie Kennedy's B-Rad. Seriously. His name even rhymes. He grew up in the way-out-there suburbs of somewhat rural Ohio, with an extended stint in San Jose in his teens. Perhaps that's where he found his inner gangsta. I don't know, but what I do know is that he is a poser and it becomes more and more transparent every day.

And why can't I leave him alone? I don't really know, to be honest. He is never going to settle down, he's a player, and he is never going to outgrow this gangsta mentality, if the growing number of meaningless tattoos prove correct. I don't get myself, seriously. And he's the one that has affected me the most...He's even got my brain in on this huge mess.

I think I like setting myself up for heartache. I'm not really sure, but I do know that there has yet to be a normal guy in my crazy tally. It seems my options are either heartbreak or being single. And in all honesty, I'm single now, and the dramatics of my life still suck.

I could write one hell of a bad melodrama based on my bad romances.

Falling or Flying

I'd like to share that I am a deeply and vastly interesting person. I am also pretty humble and/or modest, if you haven't picked up on it yet. I am also pretty Narcissistic. I love me, dude. I am pretty awesome.

Through all that awesome deep and vast interesting humble Narcissistic modesty, I also have a weird fear of letting the people that matter in my life down. I am terrified I am going to be a loser and live for the rest of my days in my parents' house in the same bedroom I've had since I was ten and eschew shaving my legs and talk to myself in code. That would be kind of funny, actually--I just giggled a bit at the hairy legs and the muttering in code thing.

But yeah. I am a pretty neurotic person. I talk shit but I am pretty thin-skinned. I'm pretty naive.

I'm actually kind of worried that I really don't have a grasp on my future yet. I am also worried that I will become one of those people that worry endlessly about the future and wind up living in a fantasy world made up of nothing but tomorrows. I am a restless perpetual daydreamer and sometimes I prefer the imagined to the reality. I keep telling myself that I will be twenty-five in five months and I need to quit this Holden Caulfield bullshit and just decide what it is that I am going to do with the sixty or seventy-something odd years left in my life. I am better at spontaneity than I am at the long-term. That was fine and dandy back when I was seventeen and bored on a Friday night and came up with a crazy idea to kill time, but not now. I'm halfway to thirty for Christsakes. Time to grow up and join the adult world and...then what?

I'd like to get a book published but then I'd have to actually sit down and fucking write one and actually finish it. There are so many things I'd like to accomplish in this tragically brief span of life that humans have on this planet, but I get bored with them before I actually start them. Boredom is a bitch. I'd like to become a singer but I lack the money for a demo and I lack the actual time to perform, what between working like most of my day and then trying to make up for the time lost during the day at work with Nicky. I want to move out, but shit, I am scared. I won't openly or vocally admit it, but I am scared of living on my own and not having that safety net if something goes wrong.

I'm a tangle of knotted-up insecurities. I'm pretty self-confident, but I'm also pretty self-conscious. I'm a goddamned walking contradiction. I'm like Red Bull in your decaf coffee, although that sounds pretty gross. I'm not gross. Insecure, yes. Gross, no.

Emily Dickenson once said, "Forever is composed of nows." I suppose that my rambling diatribe is leading up to just that. My fear of falling or flying doesn't matter. My now is intrinsically part of my forever. I wish I could make that sound more coherent and less acid trippy, but I can't. I am trying to say that forever only matters when you're dead, and that now is what matters.

Dance In The Dark

I decided I'd make you guys a playlist since I haven't done one in ages.  Go ahead and give it a listen :)


The It's Saturday Night and I Am Drinking a Strawberry Banana Smoothie From McDonald's Instead of Out Drinking But I Have a Headache and Am Slightly Broke So I Am Here Making This Playlist Playlist:

"Paris (Ooh La La)", Grace Potter & The Nocturnals, (Grace Potter & The Nocturnals)

"Clap Your Hands", Sia, (We Are Born)

"Vanity", Lady Gaga, (The Fame Monster)

"Semi Precious Weapons", Semi Precious Weapons, (You Love You)

"Oh My God", Mark Ronson featuring Lily Allen, (Version)

"I'm Not Gonna Teach Your Boyfriend How to Dance With You", Black Kids, (Partie Traumatic)

"I Got Mine", The Black Keys, (Attack & Release)

"Polygraph, Right Now!", The Spill Canvas, (One Fell Swoop) 

"Sex On Fire", Kings of Leon, (Only By the Night)

"I'm Shakin'", Rooney, (Rooney)

(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. 

Gone

                                        

We were all witnesses to the very end.  No words to describe the loss every Cavs fan in Cleveland is feeling right now.  Another kick to the gut for a city that can never seem to catch a break.

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.

Looking In

Maybe life has a different perspective when viewed through slightly blurry lenses.

I currently am sitting on my porch, wearing a jacket because I am freezing, and I have one contact in my left eye. I think I scratched my right eye taking out my lenses Monday night because my eye has hurt like crazy when I put my lens in since. Damn scratched cornea.


But anyway, life looks a little different when one looks at the world with one good eye and one pretty shitty nearsighted astigmatized eye. Obviously there is the distinct blurriness, but perhaps I could look at things in shades of gray instead of just plain, clear cut black and white.  Things could be easier, I suppose, if I allowed them to blur together in a cohesive tangle instead of hoping for a straight answer.


Perhaps not.  Perhaps the only thing I am getting out of this one contact thing is a strained right eye, but shit, it never hurts to wax philosophical.  My favorite philosopher, Soren Kirkegaard once said, "Anxiety is the dizziness of freedom."  How true he was.  The hardest thing in life might be to swallow the bubble of fear that forms in your stomach and blurs the distinction between the obvious and the delusion of uncertainty.  I have often suffered from that fear, that anxious tumble of butterflies and deluded reason that has the ability to freeze a perfectly rational person in their tracks.  I hate feeling as if someone poured ice into my veins, that sense of doubt one gets when fear steps in.


Oh, but the feeling you get when you pop that bubble and slap fear in the smug face!  It's such a heady, delicious feeling.  I imagine that perhaps the pursuit of freedom takes a bit of blurring, of smudging the charcoal lines on the stark white paper...Nothing in life is truly clear, perfectly sharp.  Nothing transcends the line of 20/20.  Perhaps one has to scratch their cornea to understand that.


I think that perhaps emotions work like that too.  Take for instance, matters of the heart.  I suppose we would all like love to be sharp and clear, charcoal and snow...but honestly, in all reality, it is a smeared compilation of anguished grays and delighted cream.  The heart kind of views things in a complicated Venn diagram, analyzing and overanalyzing things until they become a meaningless babble. 


I'm sure this unfocused clarity won't make sense the next time I read this post, but it makes perfect sense now:  We have to blur the edges of life in order to get the entire picture.  We can't always expect life to hand us a straightforward answer...we have to go searching through the mottled mess of our everyday lives to figure out the answers ourselves.