Tuesday, August 31, 2010


My first therapy appointment was today, and although according to my mother whatever happens in there is my business and my business only; according to me if I don't blog about it, it didn't happen.


Sort of.

If I don't blog about it I don't have to talk about it with anyone I don't want to because no one has proof that anything happened... therefore it didn't happen.

I'm not telling you what that was about. It didn't happen. So shut up.

Back to therapy.

I think that I have a God complex... I also think I have control issues.



I like to drive. I like to drive because I like to control every single step of the journey that can be controlled, such as when I arrive, the rout I take, and most importantly, when I leave. I get nervous when other people drive for a few reasons. 1) I'm almost positive that they will kill me with their poor driving skills and inability to pay attention to the road and the radio and whatever else they think is more important than protecting my life. And 2) I can leave when I want to. I've decided this stems from the fact that I have no idea recently where my life is going and so I'm overcompensating for lack of direction in my life with the physical need to have complete control over where I'm going.

I also hate asking for help because I think that I should be able to take care of everything for myself by myself. I regularly have to tell myself that God put other people here to make our lives easier, and I can't do everything. That doesn't mean I don't experience a huge inner turmoil any time I have to ask anyone for anything.

These are my observations; the therapist didn't day these things. I decided them on my own (I, Denise, aka God).

Seriously though, I feel so much better. I said some things about my relationship with David that I hadn't ever thought before because she helped me get to them. She helped me see that the light at the end of the tunnel is real, and it's not just a fabrication of my imagination and that although my relationship with David is over, it's still really fresh (magnified by the fact that I haven't purged him from my life (and no, I don't want to either, I don't think it's the right decision) and that I have never been in love and had a conventional break up which makes this one all the more difficult because not only does it not make sense to me (or David) but to anyone else because they're not us.) and the stress and pain I'm experiencing isn't a sign of weakness, it's normal. I'm normal...

She noted that most/all of my stress is money related (yea...). I personally know I have issues with lazy people, I have issues with people who don't pay their own way in the world, people who are unwise with money or who use me for the fact that I'm not. I hate people who expect me to pay for them, or who make me feel used (I don't want to go into it now, but I've been used a lot in my life, by a lot of different people. It basically sucks). I hate the fact that I lost my second job and my savings is a distant memory. I hate the fact that I had to rely on my savings; but in reality I should be grateful for my ability to save like I did when I could, I should be proud of myself. People save for emergencies, losing a job is an emergency. I was prepared, I should be proud.

We talked about how I eat when I’m stressed, and how I hate that I've gained weight. We talked about how I'm really aware of my body and my emotions and my life, and how although I let everything I didn't want to deal with slip by the wayside (note: why David and I broke up) I'm seeing the problems and making the necessary steps to correct them.

I like therapy. I really do. I like that I'm taking the steps necessary to become the person I always wanted to be.

Monday, August 30, 2010

just breathe

As summer packs up and heads south for the winder and Autumn unpacks it's sleeping bag and gets ready to stay a while I find find myself just walking slowly wherever I'm going and smelling the leaves change (yes, I can smell it).

There is a spot I park my car during lunch that is surrounded by greenery and I can sit there the whole hour with my windows rolled down and my seat leaning back and just breathe. Just noting the smells of nature and enjoying the slight change from day to day. No, I could never live in the city. I need the green stuff.

Day 4 of the 30 days of truth is about forgiveness once again, and since I have had all week to think about this one I was hoping it would be beyond awesome. I was hoping to write something resembling prose you'd expect to see in Gods diary. But you want to know something? I am not sure that I have anyone I need to forgive. I mean, I remember the things wrongly done to be, but I'm sort of the mindset that taking things as they are is the best, and if someone is sorry I forgive them. If they're not, I don't.

Recently my "best friend" (I'm using quotations because that's how I feel about him right now) told me that he "couldn't be my friend right now because he couldn't understand me or relate to me." And since this is my blog and not his I won't tell you about his dirty laundry, but recently he was lower than I am, a lot lower; and even though I couldn't directly relate to him I never once gave up on him. I wanted to, it was hard being his friend when all he was doing was lying to me and pushing me away, but I saw through his facade and I knew he needed me, so I was there.

Now, when the rolls are switched he basically puts everything on me, as usual, because he "isn't the rock that I am". It hurts to know that the "best friend" I've had for 6 years doesn't want to try to be there for me in my first real time of need since we've been friends. It hurts to know that he purposefully ignored me because he didn't know what to say to me. It hurts even more that he is trying to make me feel guilty for relying on other friends who don't ignore me and are willing to try to understand. He hurts my feelings on a weekly basis and makes me feel like some sort of freak for acting irrationally because my emotions are all over the place; not that I don't wish I could control them better, I do. And the worst part of it all, is that he isn't sorry. He doesn't want to have to change. He doesn't respect me and he thinks that because I'm normally an overly giving individual he can guilt me into submission and I'll come crawling back begging forgiveness for made up transgressions that are really just me deciding that I'm worth more than a friend who is there when he wants to be and not when I need him.

Something you have to forgive someone for

So, Bobby, I forgive you for hurting me like you have recently. I forgive you for being unsure of how to handle my situation and not being able to give me the adequate support I expected because you're not me.

But I don't forgive you for how you've continued to hurt me. I don't forgive you for giving up on me. I don't forgive you for walking all over me and trying to make me sorry for things that I should be proud of.

I'm sorry you don't see me like I saw you those times you were down. I'm sorry you can't tell me how great I am like the times I told you how wonderful you are. I'm sorry you're not who I thought you were. That's actually what I'm most sorry for.

Friday, August 27, 2010

things that I've learned this week

A bazillion years ago I used to do "5 on Fridays" to give short updates on my life and have an easy post that was still somewhat genuine. I think that was annoying. I think weekly anythings are annoying. If that's your thing, great; it's just not for me. I'm a hater of schedules...

So, in light of the fact that I'm already tired of the 30 days of things that I don't really want to share but I'm doing it anyways to make myself more open with you and me... and that today is Friday and I love Fridays because I can come to work hungover the next day and no one cares, I'm going to do a post highlighting things I learned this week, or just observations. Next week I'll continue with day whatever day I'm on.

Pink can't really sing well, her voice is not pleasant but rather raspy, but I like the song "glitter". A lot. I think that if I found it in a karaoke bar I'd jump on that shit. You know who is an amazing singer though? Beyonce. I don't care how white I am, I love that girls vocal chords like no one elses. She's amazing. I refuse to back down on this.

Having friends who are girls is far better than just having friends who are gay boys. I don't care if they are "honorary girls" or you can talk to them about how cute the servers butt is, they do not replace the wonderfulness that is a girl friend. I somehow missed out on becoming really close to a lot of girls because in music school I wasn't a fan of the attitudes of most of them, and my friends from high school just didn't fit in my adult life. So, now, I'm becoming really close with my girl friends again, and I needed that. I will never let them slip to the wayside again, they are great. Speaking of girl friends, I really miss Adrienne, she always wanted to go to karaoke with me, and we'd sing lesbian songs from Rent together, and make up dances. We were a real spectacle. Girls are a different breed all their own, and now that I'm deciding to surround myself with them verses my customary menzies who also like menzies, I'm realizing how much I was missing out on.

okay, now that I've done it twice in one post it's official. Any time I write "somewhat" or "spectacle" I think I'm going to italicize them... at least for today. It worked the first time I wrote somewhat and I thought it was cute in a really annoying way. So, because I'm cute in an annoying way, I'm doing it!

I'm on season 2 of nip/tuck (under a rock, that's where... I know, and don't tell me anything! seriously though, who is it?) and I'm legitimately afraid of the carver. But I'm also glad that I'm not beautiful per se... I can't watch that show and go to bed, it doesn't work. I was up till after 2 doing nothing.

I finally cleaned up my following thing. I'm not retarded, but I can be stupid sometimes. I couldn't figure out how to delete some of the ones that weren't blogspotters, and with the time I've had I figured it out! I went from 90+ blogs to less than 50 which is far more realistic since I like a lot, but I followed some for a while because I stopped liking them but couldn't figure out how to stop following them. Snaps for me.

My weird dreams are back, and I don't go to bed drunk enough. Wednesday night I had a really weird dream that mixed real life D&D (as in I was on a quest and there was a battle and I cast spells) with a modern day escape something or other. The only solid details I remember was driving in a fast car down through a huge parking deck trying to not be noticed and me yelling at the DM for being mean as I was being crushed by a demon who looked like a giant frog. This could also stem from me reading the Dresden Files... No, I'm not going to stop. I'm only on the second book.

Not only is the way to a mans heart through his stomach, but if you cook for them early on they'll be so smitten with you they'll never want to leave. With David I didn't start cooking till toward the middle/end, and by then he'd already gotten it in his head that I couldn't cook... so, self fulfilling prophecy, he never liked anything I made.

I'm seeing a therapist. Correction, I will be seeing a therapist. Tuesday. I'm excited/nervous. I want the help; I need it really. But I'm afraid she's going to diagnose me with something, and although I know that 1/5 adults have a diagnosable mental illness, I'm not ready to be a statistic. I'm not ready to say, "yes I do have blah blah, but I'm seeing someone and taking medicine so I've got it under control." I don't want to have to "get it under control," I just want someone to talk to who can tell me I'm awesome, give me advice, and say everything will be okay.

I drink when I'm nervous, this goes without saying that I also drink when I'm nervous. I sit at a desk, the front desk to be exact, and not only do I hate small talk, but I also don't usually like the people I'm supposed to small talk with. So, instead of that, I take a sip of my ever present watter bottle. It means that my hands and my mouth are occupied; and my awkward 'I don't really feel like pretending I'm interested in anything you say' face is hidden for a few seconds while the other person thinks I'm slightly busy.  In public situations I'm also of the mindset that things are less awkward with a drink in your hand.... and logical thinking leads me to things are twice as less awkward with two drinks in your hand, and if you have a drink in each hand and another in your pocket (yea, I know how to party) things can't possibly be awkward at all.

My cat only likes me when I'm pooping. Seriously, it can be 4am and I get up to go to the bathroom and my cat comes running from the deepest depths of my house (more likely than not the autumn that he has adopted as his home) and will paw at the door. I let him in and he rubs all up on my legs and purrs then wants out again... so I let him out. But no, he didn't really want out, he wanted to lay his fat ass in between the bathroom and the kitchen so I can't close the door. Idiot. I can be sitting on the couch watching nip/tuck for the 3rd straight hour and he wants nothing to do with me, but as soon as I am on the pot, he's all about interrupting me.

My dog looks like he's on crack when I try to photograph him. Exibit A:

I don't think we need an exibit B... A says it all.

Enjoy your weekend.  

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

all this introspection is making me blah

Someone who will remain anonymous told me yesterday that reading my blog was like a soap opera... ugh! They then said they've never seen a soap opera and that they "didn't mean it offensively". But you know how my emotions are and how when I have them they don't really go away.

So, since that was said, and I have been having dreams in which I actually read blogs I'll be taking a two day hiatus, sorry. See you Friday.

Also, to maintain my stats because we all know how important math is in real life, I've been averaging about 20 posts per month... and it's only the 24th... This is my 17th! Bad news bears, don't want to over do it.

And, if you really miss me and want to read stuff I've written head over to my brand new cooking blog. I have two whole posts up (I know, impressive) and another scheduled for Wednesday.

Also, on the far left side there is a survey you should take if you plan on reading that blog regularly, which you should, considering all people like to eat and I'm a pretty *fetch* cook.

Monday, August 23, 2010


Lets be honest here, forgiving is not forgetting. That's why they say "forgive and forget",


It's important.

I'm really good at forgiving, other people that is. Forgetting, well, not so much. I may eventually forget the exact way your hair was styled when you called me a bitch as I walked by your biology class on the way to band... but I'll probably never forget the hate in your eyes as you said it, or how it made me feel after. I am the type of girl who will try to mend whatever rift happened between us, even if I don't know why you hate me (even though we all know it's just because you're a girl, and girls are bitches... all of us. Each and every one). I'll be nice to you, I'll lend you my favorite pencil knowing deep down you probably won't return it,

and this is one skill I have accidentally mastered but am very grateful for: I don't expect you to return something I lent you, and I don't expect a favor in return. I am me, I am giving and helpful. You are not me, I don't expect from you what I would give. If I did I'd be disappointed a lot. I'm lucky: I don't lend without intent to give.

I'll buy you lunch when you forget your wallet, I'll drive you places and share things with you; even after you treated me poorly. That's me, You can be mean to me but I'll be nice back. Because I want to find out why you hate me, because I usually know what I did wrong, and if I didn't, I want to find out. And fix it. I like to fix things.

Unless, of course you're an old person, who is mean to me because I'm young (and literally there is no other reason). If you're old and mean, I won't be nice to you. I'll ignore you. It's what's best for both of us. You don't have that much longer to hold a grudge anyway.

But to forgive myself, well hold on a minute there. I seriously thought about this all day yesterday, because I didn't have much else to do and I recently told David I wasn't sure if I could continue to be his friend.

For our late subscribers here's a small recap: I was in love with David and he with me. Then his heart changed and we broke up. This was about 4 months ago (I'm bad with dates, excuse me). I still love him. I wish I didn't, but that's life. He still wants to be friends, I thought I could do it. It's been an uphill battle for me trying to see him as anything else but the future sperm to my eggs... and now, after hating myself every single time we came in contact with each other I've realized I can't stop loving him if I continue to let him be this huge part of my life. So, now, I am trying to redefine who I am on the inside, so I can be happy without him. Redefine is the wrong word... how about rediscover. That's better.

Something you have to forgive yourself for

I have to forgive myself for this break up. This is the second time I was ever in a break up where I was in love with the guy. The first time he was gay, so that's different. I've never had someone just stop loving me, and it's pretty shitty. But you know what? It's not my fault. Yes, I got depressed. Yes, I stopped focusing on my life outside of the relationship because I was afraid to face my problems. But no matter how messed up my side of the relationship was, he also made mistakes. He didn't communicate well. He didn't include me in his family life. He didn't tell me what was bothering him. It takes two people to make a relationship work, and it takes two to keep it up.

David didn't tell me how he was feeling, which gave me no chance to mend my ways. He was silent, till it was too late. Now, I'm left with the shambles of my life that caused me to be depressed in the first place and the animosity from a failed relationship that I'm desperately struggling to get past. Forgiving myself is the first step.

Friday, August 20, 2010

if music be the food of love

One of my favorite things about myself is my music, it's my voice, and it's one of the ways I express how I feel.

Something I love about myself

I love my voice.

I'm a great singer, I always have been. It's one of the main reasons I started out in school for music (the other being I love teaching/learning... mix those two together and you get music ed! simple math strikes again). I can probably sing better than most people you know, and when I practice often it's even better.

I wasn't sure what I was going to write about here, but on the way to work I decided to sing a bit and I was surprised by how great it sounded. I was sitting down for Pete's sake, sitting down and singing well don't usually go hand in hand, but I naturally sit pretty straight, especially when driving, so it's not that much of a surprise. What was a surprise was how beautiful it was. I was singing my favorite song that I've ever sung in my entire life, pie jesu. I sang it my last semester in music school, which I guess is somewhat symbolic now, since it's a funeral song. But God, it's wonderful. And I sound wonderful singing it.

What I love about this song, and myself singing it, is that there is such a lift in my soul. There is a lift in my soul when I sing anything well, or when I just sing for real in general (imagine fat lady singing with horns on her head... that's where i get the most joy. Don't get me wrong, I love me a good show tune, but I'll sing a classical ballad like my life depended on it). And that lift, that love I have for the music coming directly out of my person is what I love most about myself. I love that I have this gift, I love that I can love something that much and never lose it. I love it.

I loved music in a way that when I was in school for it I lost that feeling. I lost the ability to have it be special to me. Music was everywhere, but the passion was lost for me in the shuffle. I no longer felt connected, I felt over worked, with no real benefit. No soul uplifting moments. It was all work, and nothing fun anymore. Maybe that's the real reason I lost my desire to go... I wasn't getting the joy out of it anymore, and in taking the joy out of the music in my life, everything else didn't matter.

Thursday, August 19, 2010

day 1

Something that I hate about myself

I guess that this list decided to start out with me laying it all out on the table, because if you know what I hate about myself first, than maybe everything after will make sense.

One thing, only one thing.

Hate, such a strong word. I don't know if I hate this, but I do not like it very much. I hate the fact that I'm not very motivated. I get in moods sometimes where I am a whirlwind of productivity. But those moments are few and far between. It's sort of pathetic really. I can't even bring myself to do something I know I'll enjoy sometimes, and that is a symptom of depression, I know that; but I feel like it's deeper than that.

I hate to be nagged. If someone nags me that makes me not want to do it even more. I'll do nothing rather than something just to defy someone who has nagged me.

I stopped going to college for a lot of reasons, but the main one was I had lost the motivation to continue with music Ed... and I lot the motivations to fix the other problem that prevented me from going back all together. Now, almost 2 years later I'm miserable with my job and its taken so much more work just to get everything handled so I could apply somewhere else. If I had motivation back then when I first noticed the problem I could be almost done. But now, I have to start all over, 4 years after high school and basically feel like a failure when anyone talks about where they are and what they are doing with their lives.

I'm not an idiot, in fact I'm really smart. but I guess I'm one of those smart kids who doesn't feel competitive enough to try any harder then they ever had to. Which is true. I'm smart enough to do well with little effort, so I put forth very little effort, do well and have very little sense of accomplishment. I hate that. I hate that I can't succeed... won't succeed because I won't try.

I need to get motivated.

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

30 days of truth

I know that coming up with things to blog about is difficult sometimes, especially when you're socially retarded like most bloggers (ie: why you blog in the first place) and your real, not-in-front-of-the-computer-because-no-matter-what-you-say-your-friends-don't-live-in-there

God, writing like that is difficult... I can't not push space, then I hit backspace, and space again! I'm one helluva programed freak.

life is less than interesting most of the time. Whew... umm, don't be offended by what I just said, you're reading this instead of being out drinking or other un-socially retarded acts...

So, in my normal morning routine of coming to work, reading my emails, and clicking on blogs that look interesting, I came across one from a gal I whose site I clicked on from a British Gent (lets be honest once again, since I've already moderately offended you; but how awesome is it when you read British blogs in a British accent!?!). So this Stephanie Ann isn't British, although that won't stop me from reading her blog like she is...

the beauty of blogging, you are what I want you to be, and if you're not there is this little X in the corner of the window that prevents you from shattering my dream...


She is doing one of those things people do when they either a) can't think of a steady stream of quality things to write about or b) are bored.

I am neither of those things, at least not today. However, I was intrigued by her idea. 30 truths about yourself, in 30 days... hmm... not that I have a lot to hide, but I do prefer to keep certain things somewhat private. I talk about my crazy in a humorous light, but ask anyone and they'll tell you that while I'm sitting on the couch crying for the 3rd hour straight talking about the exact same thing I have been talking about for the last 4 months that it's not humorous, not even slightly. If I did decided to do this 30 days of truths nonsense it might get real real, real fast... and I love my bloggy friends, and I love sharing about my emotions with you

last side note for a minute... how obnoxious is it that you can't text with italics? I would give someones left nut to change that. And don't tell me to e-mail people... I don't have an android phone and I break them so easily I'll probably never get one.

but I'm not sure if I ready to truthfully share about them, for 30 days, with no break...

I was thinking I'd maybe do them, once or twice a week, or at the bottom of a regular post. Or I could make a separate tab for them next to the about me. I have been looking for something solid to add a tab about, and I wasn't sure if you guys wanted to track my period too... I mean... umm... something unrelated to menstruating.

Also, I have found that when I ask questions at the bottom of my posts no one answers them, it's probably because people think that's annoying. Or they think its a rhetorical question and they feel awkward answering, again, socially awkward people blog.

Here is zee leest...
Day 01 → Something you hate about yourself.
Day 02 → Something you love about yourself.
Day 03 → Something you have to forgive yourself for.
Day 04 → Something you have to forgive someone for.
Day 05 → Something you hope to do in your life.
Day 06 → Something you hope you never have to do.
Day 07 → Someone who has made your life worth living for.
Day 08 → Someone who made your life hell, or treated you like shit.
Day 09 → Someone you didn’t want to let go, but just drifted.
Day 10 → Someone you need to let go, or wish you didn’t know.
Day 11 → Something people seem to compliment you the most on.
Day 12 → Something you never get compliments on.
Day 13 → A band or artist that has gotten you through some tough ass days. (write a letter.)
Day 14 → A hero that has let you down. (letter)
Day 15 → Something or someone you couldn’t live without, because you’ve tried living without it.
Day 16 → Someone or something you definitely could live without.
Day 17 → A book you’ve read that changed your views on something.
Day 18 → Your views on gay marriage.
Day 19 → What do you think of religion? Or what do you think of politics?
Day 20 → Your views on drugs and alcohol.
Day 21 → (scenario) Your best friend is in a car accident and you two got into a fight an hour before. What do you do?
Day 22 → Something you wish you hadn’t done in your life.
Day 23 → Something you wish you had done in your life.
Day 24 → Make a playlist to someone, and explain why you chose all the songs. (Just post the titles and artists and letter)
Day 25 → The reason you believe you’re still alive today.
Day 26 → Have you ever thought about giving up on life? If so, when and why?
Day 27 → What’s the best thing going for you right now?
Day 28 → What if you were pregnant or got someone pregnant, what would you do?
Day 29 → Something you hope to change about yourself. And why.
Day 30 → A letter to yourself, tell yourself EVERYTHING you love about yourself

As you can see this isn't "how many siblings do you have, " or, "what's your pets name, " questions (2, and Noah FYI). These questions sort of poke at your core, the inner workings of the Denise we've all come to know and love.

Does the fact that I'm nervous about answering these make me seem like I've got a lot to hide? Does it make you curious? Should I do it? Should I tab them?

Ugh!! I just don't even know.

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

sometimes I think I'm bipolar

Once in a while, strike that, more like almost weekly I find myself thinking how god dammed crazy the shit that goes on in my head is. It's like watching myself have multiple life changing ordeals in one week, then the next it's like nothing happened.

I do get nervous talking about menstruating on this blog, I know some boys read it, I don't want to scare them away. Us bloggy girls need those few men in the blogosphere to still like us enough to come back... so I won't be gross, I'll just say one thing: my hormones are effed up.

I can be a perfectly normal human being for 3 whole weeks out of the month, but as soon as my body doesn't get knocked up it decides to take it out on everyone around me and turn me into a crazy bitch. I used to be able to control it when I was younger, I'd snap at someone here, cry a bit there... but I apologised almost instantly because i knew that wasn't me. I was nice, I wouldn't snap at someone.

cut to now

Every fucking month I turn into this raging bitch, I'm pretty sure the only fights David and I ever had were the week before my dot... and this last week I basically wrote off my best friend of 6 years over a slight misunderstanding. How the heck does someone go from a relatively normal human to a freaky weird, insane psycho version of herself every single month?

Why don't I take birth control you ask? Well, I tried it, but it gave me anxiety. Anxiety... more like random panic attacks brought on by things like the changing wind patterns, or a dust mote flying across my range of vision (in other words, no reason at all...)

I'm an ellipse whore... today it's really bad... I keep having to delete them and write something that constitutes as words... last one... promise...

So, the lady doctor, who happens to be a gent, says that if I get anxiety I can't really try a different brand, it won't matter. So I'm stuck with this craziness that I can really no longer anticipate or control and I don't exactly know what to do about it. People don't sit on a bed of moss anymore, and I'm not allowed to just stay inside for a week.

It's like I have the normal amount of girl emotions and they don't get released till one week (more like 5 hellish days from... well, Hell) then once they are used up I say I'm sorry and everyone in my life just thinks I need therapy and to suck it up. Other girls have menstruations, why can't I handle it like other girls?

Because I'm not "other girls" I'm me... and me is crazy.

At least you know now why about once every month my blog turns into "my life sucks... I can't go one... no one loves me..." and the rest of the time it's normal things like boobs, and poop (not together), and how amazing I am at life.

We will now continue with your regularly scheduled programing.

(I'm thinking that I will just pre-write all of next months blog posts and schedule them to go when I'll be feeling like I nutter, that way no one knows aunt flow is planning a visit.)

Monday, August 16, 2010

Hell Yeah!

I just bought a Kitchenaid mixer for only $75! I also wrote 4 Auto policies today!

Too bad my uterus is trying to escape...

Oh well, you can't win em' all.

Happy Monday.

Sunday, August 15, 2010

I have a few questions

How can anyone ever give accurate advice if they don't hear both sides of the story?

What is it with people and their inherent need to blame some one or something instead of admitting a fault and just trying to fix it?

What's so hard about "I'm sorry"?

What's even harder about "I forgive you"?

Why do I carry all me stress in my left shoulder?

Why does pain make you cry? Whats the connection? Why do I waste so much time trying to make the connection?

Am I so desperate to be needed that I seek out the selfish people who will need me? Why do I need to feel needed so badly? Why do I look for the ones i can help?

Why do I hate help, from anyone, for anything. What is so hard about admitting I'm not capable of everything and asking for a little help? Does that make sense?

Why does having a uterus make it almost impossible to have the same feelings for more than a day?

Why don't I make chicken pot pie more often?

Friday, August 13, 2010

sometimes you have to look on the bright side

Since this has probably been one of the longest weeks of my life, I would like to highlight the good things that happened, because if I don't I'll go insane.

I ate a delish cupcake, and then I ate another one. That was the best part of my day yesterday. Ellen, thanks for the cupcakes.

I received the tickets for 2 shows I purchased for playhouse in the mail on Wednesday! I will be seeing Legally Blonde and Billy Elliott in the upcoming winter season both tickets cost me 20 bucks! Smart seats are so smart.

Other good things that have happened to me this week include I started watching a show that I am now quasi in love with, and tomorrow I can sleep in no matter what. :) I also had some absolutely delish sweet pot fries that no one tried to nab while I was eating them. That's amazing.

The best part about today is that its more than half over and I can do whatever the heck I feel like tonight. Happy weekend :)

Thursday, August 12, 2010

i keep getting struck by lightning

I have interesting dreams. Vivid, strange, but usually interesting ones that make me wake up feeling all sorts of fertutzed.

The recent most occurring element in my dreams is lightning; more importantly, me running from it, but still being struck. Last night I was struck once, but I stood there, not moving, with lightning striking the ground all around me, for a bit till the storm passed. I was surrounded by people, all of which were trying to help me, but since I knew lightning doesn't strike the same place twice (good to know I’m still aware of the laws of physics even while I'm asleep) I decided not to move and avoided the other strikes.

This is the second time in not very long I’ve been struck by lightning in a dream. And since my sleep has been sporadic to say the least, this is also one of the few dreams I have had recently so the stats are proving that it means something; to me at least.

My old friend Google tells me that


To see lightning in your dream signifies sudden awareness, insight, spiritual revelation, truth and purification. Alternatively, lightning implies a shocking turn of events. There are many forces governing your life that may be beyond your control and even destructive.

To dream that you are struck by lightning, symbolizes irreversible changes occurring in your life. You are undergoing a permanent transformation.

I started to underline the parts of this that apply to me but then I realized I only left out fluff words so I stopped...

I haven't talked much about how I recently have been all over the place with my emotions... because I feel like an idiot and no one wants to read about emotions, especially not when they don't even make the slightest amount of sense, so I'll give you the cliff notes version: I'm a girl, I have emotions, they make me crazy.

So what do I get out of that? I see lightning in my dreams, which represents some sort of realization, or turn of events. I'm running from the lightning. I'm running from the change in my life that I can't control. So, I run, but to no avail because I eventually get struck.

The lightning hits me, I am in fact undergoing irreversible changes, and you know what? This basically describes all the animosity that has been keeping me up at night. I run from whatever changes are inevitable, I can't stop them. They happen to me, and I am permanently affected...

Fun fact: lightning is not actually discriminatory; it can strike the same place twice. The point of lightning is to balance out a charge separation, and if the easiest way to do that is one object multiple times, so be it. Nature isn't picky.

So I kept looking at the elements of my dream and it's no wonder I haven't been sleeping. My subconscious is screaming out at me and my other subconscious, the one who doesn't want to listen; won't go to sleep because it refuses to be told what to do.

To see or carry a backpack in your dream, represents the decisions and responsibilities that are weighing your down.

To see a cow in your dream, symbolizes your passive and docile nature. You obey others without question. Alternatively, a cow represents maternal instincts or the desire to be cared for. For some cultures, the cow represents divine qualities of fertility, nourishment and motherhood.
To see a herd of cows, indicates your need to belong.

To dream that you are covering something, indicates a part of yourself that you are trying to hide or are afraid of revealing. Consider what you are trying to cover up.

To see a fence in your dream, signifies an obstacle or barrier that may be standing on your path. You may feel confined and restricted in expressing yourself. Are you feeling fenced in some situation or confined in some relationship? Alternatively, it may symbolize a need for privacy. You may want to shut off the rest of the world.

To see a pool of water in your dream, indicates that you need to acknowledge and understand your feelings. It is time to dive in and deal with those emotions. Alternatively, a pool indicates your desire to be cleansed. You need to wash away the past.

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

what is the draw, ladies?

I'm a girl. Whew, now that that's off my chest we can continue.

Since the dawn of time females have been inherently drawn to the "asshole". Why? Why, when Adam specifically asked god for an inside out version of him with boobs did he ignore her and make her feel bad about herself?

Okay, I wasn't exactly there, but Mark Twain was, and he told me what happened.

What is it about a guy who treats us like poo that makes us want more?

Here's what I personally know about myself: I want to make a guy happy. I want to make him so happy he tells me I'm awesome. I want to be awesome. So... if I date a guy who is never happy, who never tells me I'm awesome, I must need to try harder. Right?

I need to be more beautiful, a better cook, and a better bed mate. I need to try harder, because if I can make him happy then I'll be happy.

Why do I have this crazy mentality? I know I'm not alone. This is why assholes rule the world. This is why they can treat us like crap and we keep coming back. This is why we're inherently attracted to the ones that don't want us.

And guys?

They know. They know everything. They know that if they are in love with us they can't tell us or we'll never want them again. They know that the second they are nice to us we'll walk all over them like we've been walked all over so many times previously. So they like us, but they are mean to us to keep us around, and the meaner they are the better girlfriends we become.

I hate that this is true, because I've dated "the nice guy" and you want to know what I did? I walked all over his nice guy heart. I chewed it up and spit it out because he was into me. I'm such a stupid idiot.

This isn't directed at anyone in particular. I honestly believe that real relationships, the ones that last, the ones that deserve all the work I've put into so many, are mostly give and take. A healthy relationship means that each person has strengths that balance out the others weaknesses, and that although most guys are not "the one"; someone is out there who will make you feel worthy without feeling bored. Someone will love you and make you feel amazing without letting you walk all over them. Someone is out there, for most people, and if we stay at home bitching about all the assholes, we'll never find him. Or her.

Saturday, August 7, 2010

no spend month

Last month one of the blog communities I'm a part of (20something bloggers) did a carnival/writing contest about money and friends and peer pressure and how it all works when you're 20 something.

The prize was $100, and although I didn't win I was a finalist. You can check out my entry here if you haven't already read it.

I did read some of the winners posts and one of them talked about how her and her husband would do "no spend months" and honestly that sounds like an amazing idea. Food, gas, and bills. Nothing extra. No bars, no going out to eat, no new clothes or shoes or electronics. Just thinking about how much money I waste on going out to eat/drink alone is enough to make me feel really frivolous with my spending. If I list how much I make on average (I'm hourly, not salary) and my actual bills and gas I have excess of about $345. I usually spend about $85 on groceries for the month, but if I ate out less that'd probably be a little more.

So lets say that I don't eat out at all for the next month... and that costs me about $45 more in groceries which seems logical to me considering how much feeding one person really costs. That's $300 a month I spend on entertaining myself that I could be spending on my savings account which is at a mere $0.02 after my vacation.

I could be spending it on paying off my car sooner, or my student loans. I could spend it on checking out what the rattling noise under my car is that I've been letting go because I know I can't afford another $500 dollar repair like the last time I went in for an oil change. I could be spending it on any number of things that you don't have to leave a tip for.

This month, August, I shall not spend more than I absolutely need, and at the end of the month I'll put all the extra into my savings. In September, if all goes well,  I may just do the same.

Friday, August 6, 2010

wow, it's friday already...

These past few weeks have been wonderful because they have all been short... the bad thing is that all my short weeks are over for a while. When is the next holiday? Labor day is exactly one month away... Come to me labor day... come.

Since every once in a while the girl over at the little things we do does a fill in the blank friday that I feel is interesting enough to fill in the blanks, I shall to just that.

1. Today for breakfast I had half of my left over chicken parm from last night... I may be the only person who gets multiple meals out of left overs. I can eat a chipotle burrito for 3 meals...

2. My go to/never fail recipe uhh... It depends on what I'm making it for. My family is weird and no one eats cheese, so I think sweet potato casserole is what is best for them. For the rest of the world the pioneer woman's fancy mac&cheese, but with cheddar, jack and sour cream instead of the expensive cheeses she uses. I'm 21, give me a break.

3. Something I eat that other people think is weird is only people who haven't tried it think it's weird, but I dip my nuggets into frosties at Wendy's. I also dip my fries. At Swensons, which is the only reason half the people in Ohio don't leave, I dip whatever I'm eating into my strawberry milkshake.

4. My worst cooking disaster ever was when I tried to make these frittata I saw on the Smitten Kitchen. It had zucchini and mushrooms and looked amazing. Well, sounded amazing. I don't know if it was the directions that weren't clear or if It was just a bad recipe but they turned out to be really bland and a huge waste of my time.

5. If I could only eat one flavor of ice cream the rest of my life it would be vanilla... I know that sounds lame but everything goes with vanilla. My favorite ice cream treat is a peanut butter sunday with extra peanut butter from the DQ. East Coast Custard also has an amazing peanut butter sunday, but they moved out of my town and the closest one is in Middleburg which I have to pay a tole to get to and I just can't justify that behavior.
6. One food I hate and avoid at all costs is coconut, which makes no sense because I'd bathe in pina colada if I could. It's more fresh coconut that I hate. I don't mind coconut rum, but I'd not choose it if I had another option.

7. What is your favorite meal? Breakfast, lunch, or dinner? Dinner probably. It's more the time than the food. In the mornings I'm rarely hungry, then all of a sudden I'm ravishingly starving and lunch is never really enjoyable because I'm just trying to get food in there fast. Breakfast is good as long as I don't have to eat breakfast food. Cold pizza, cold chicken, that's my ideal breakfast food. I love pancakes and bacon and eggs, but I'd rather have them for dinner. Sweet things in the morning isn't what I crave. But Dinner, oh dinner. You're not in a rush, you can eat anything you want. You can have a drink with dinner and not get looks. Dinner is where it's at.

And, since it gets me an extra entry for a contest I'll tell you about it. Over at Points Of Review you can enter to win a visa gift card. The contest ends 8/25, so you've got time.

It's a blog by the same woman who writes the Cookin' Canuck who makes really interesting dishes. I've been following her since I saw something that looked heavenly on the tasty kitchen.

Happy Friday!

Thursday, August 5, 2010

i just now realized that my parents were planning my demise

This title is sort of true. I have known all along that my parents never wanted me to be happy and have been slowly but surely weaning any possibility of me ever a) getting laid or b) finding a boyfriend who will eventually lay me out of my life since before I came out of the womb... but the extent they went to surprises me to this day, because even though I moved out of their house more than 2 years ago, their actions are still affecting me.

What am I talking about you may ask?

Its a long story. I'll start at the beginning.

In the beginning God created Adam. Adam wanted Eve and he wanted her to have boobs. God, loving Adam very much and spoiling him with things like everything gave him Eve. And he gave her Boobs. I am descended from that lady with boobs and I too have boobs.

They are big. Sometimes too big. I may have mentioned them getting in the way of important life tasks such as reaching under my bed and squeezing through tight spaces (side note, when I searched "boob" on my blog search tool 8 pages of links came up... I need a new topic)(I also couldn't find what I was looking for which makes me think my search thing sucks). So I'm going around all day with these big boobs.

By the time I was 16 I had DD... and now I'm at DDD which apparently is also E but I'll stick with DDD because E sounds like I have a deformity even though they are synonymous. Having such large melons can affect a gals back like nothing else. I had a lot of pain and I went to the doctor every month and a half or so to get him to pop my stuff back into place and make me feel good. He suggested I get a new mattress.

My parents then for my 17th birthday bought me a whole new bedroom suet with a new mattress and I was in heaven.

Except, and here is where I'll admit something not many people know about me, but I am afraid of mirrors in the dark... there are people in there, and in the dark they look like warped versions of myself that are very scary!

So my mom was pissed I didn't want the obnoxiously over sized mirror but my little sister wanted it and I wasn't too upset at the thought of losing her to the night mirror people. She was an annoying little person.

The culmination of this story comes to the fact that my parents bought me a full sized bed. Just big enough to make you think 2 people can fit in it, in fact two people can fit in it, as long as those two people are both girls... but sleeping with girls was only fun till I was about seventeen and a half... and my parents knew there was no way that I could share that bed with a boy even slightly taller than the average sized girl. And since I'm usually smitten with gents at least 6 feet, preferably taller, I was doomed to never comfortably have a slumber party with a boy I was interested in...

My parents hate me.

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

pictures from the beach!

Since my laziness impresses even me, I have yet to uplaod any photos from anything I've ever done in my entire life ever.

For the past month or so that is.

But my terrible little camera on my phone is happy to make up for my lacking. :)

This is where I spent most of my drinking/napping/sun baithing time.

The only whole shell I found. I wasn't looking very hard, obvioulsy :)

I was covered in sand everywhere I went,
it was like magnetically attracted to me.

Somebody fell asleep...
I want to be on vacation again so bad... Ohio is too humid and too not the beach for me to be happy. I'll have to make do.

PS: I'm trying a new hair style today. Is it cute or is it weird?

Let me know? I like it, but that means nothing. It's your opinions I care about :) Blog friends are real friends.

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

so much fun

I had a great time, and I'm really glad to be home.

The beds were really comfortable, but the last two nights I just couldn't sleep, even with my new Ambiance app that omits the perfect amount of thunderstorm noise while I sleep to it. It knocks me out; I would have bought the iPod just for that.

I promise to post photos later today, I got home last night and went to bed, no computer, no loading photos.

The hotel we stayed at was right on the beach, and it was perfect. The sun was amazing, I even got tanner (notice I don't say "tan" because I don't... I just got "tanner"). I didn't even get burnt, well, my knees did, how weird is that? But my normal burney places are nice and brownish. And I have twice the freckles I left with.

The best part was that I literally wore pants twice while I was there. I have been in a no pants mood for a while and the beach is a perfect place to never wear pants. There was a restaurant inside bar, and outside bar all connected to the hotel that I didn't need pants for. It was great.

Bobby and I had enough pina coladas to make our eyes pop out, but since it was vacation and drinking before noon is a completely accepted practice I was passed out drunk by the pool one day and I think that's how my knees got burnt. We also went to Medieval Times dinner theater and bought bowl sized cups with more pina colads for a total of $48!! For 2 drinks! When I post the photo you'll understand how big they were though, a refill was $16, neither of us needed refills...

I bought a lifetime membership for the gay club down there, and if it weren't for the fact that being in there burnt my eyes out (I was seriously surprised every.single.time people smoked inside somewhere, Ohio is great in that aspect) I would have gone back again. There were drag shows, lots of gay pride, and really nice people. Bobby was in a mood, and wasn't having any of that, but I feel like if we went back and knew what to expect it'd be great. On the way there we got lost and stopped at another hotel to ask directions. Bobby wouldn’t go in with me because he was embarrassed to ask where the gay club was... so I got to give the desk attendant a free lesson in google maps and using ctrl+p to print things because apparently they don't know how to use computers down there... It made me feel smart. That's all that counts.

Parasailing was lovely. It's so quiet up there, and it feels so nice to not even have to hold up your head. It was super windy the day we went, thus very choppy water and Bobby got very sea sick... Afterword I got to hang out on a different section of beach for about an hour while Bobby threw his life away in a toilet... poor guy. The only motion thing I have an issue with is elevators, which really affected me this week because I went up and down one about 6 times a day since we were on the 16th floor. What happens to me is I'll be standing there and I'll randomly get the sensation of the lift that happens when you move on an elevator. I don't get sick, I don't get light headed; I just get the sensation. It's unsettling slightly, but not enough to make me walk up 16 flights, you can be sure of that. The only time it really got to me was at band Camp sr. year, and since I was on the 4th floor walking those stairs was less of a big deal. Plus being packed in the elevator with 15+ sweaty band kids wasn't all that appealing either.

We rented a jet ski for an hour and that was a BLAST!! Unfortunately in Sc you're not allowed to jump wakes, what a strange law... Ohio wins that one too. Problem is you only have about 5 nice days in Ohio, so I still pick Myrtle Beach.

Making fun of people’s accents was a big part of the trip too. There was someone from Minnesota who thought he didn't have much of an accent since he had been doon here soo loong. He did, he just didn't know. The southerners were also pretty funny. They were everywhere, and they looked at us like we were hard to understand. I've talked about this before, Northern Ohio people DO NOT HAVE ACCENTS! The only thing I say with a slight accent is things with the "ay" sound. It's the "Akron A" and I only really have it when I try not too... We may be hard to understand because we don’t talk at a glacial pace. We stopped at a Wendy’s on the way home and that’s where I discovered fast is a very relative term… very.

The restaurant in the Hotel was actually really good. I had a burger with peanut butter, which was surprisingly delicious. I love peanut butter though. And I do mean love.

There was a small kitchen in the room and I made some yummy concoctions that I will hopefully share on my new cooking blog once I get all my stuff uploaded. If you like cooking or eating I'll probably be starting out easy, and since the stuff I make tends to be delicious, once I get stuff going it'll be a place to find simple delicious recopies. I made pancakes with bacon in them (think like chocolate chip or blue berry, just bacon... I know, yum) and I also made Bacon Fried Apples, which I thought of all myself. They were great, by the way, in case you were skeptical.

I think the best part of everything was just the getting away aspect of it all. People are really nice on vacation and I talked to one southern man about Strongbow because I tripped and fell over my chair and he wanted to know what I was drinking... Then we talked about he lived way up north in Michigan and I laughed because Michigan isn't that far. They don't have Giant Eagles though... that's sad. It's where I usually get my Strongbow.

He and I also talked about the wifi sucking in the Hotel... but after that conversation I realized that was probably a good thing. I can read blogs and check facebook not on vacation. I barely even read while I was there, I think 4 dots on my kindle, which is like 15 pages or so... I can read at home. I can't lay by the pool half drunk avoiding sand up my lady parts at home.

The Sand... ugh, it was everywhere. It was so everywhere that there is no way I won't be finding more when I go home and really unpack, not just open my suitcase for the dress I'm wearing today. My feet are mighty soft though, that's nice. Bobby and I took a lovely night walk on the beach like they do in all the romantic movies and walking in sand is a lot harder when you're trying to balance a drink. We walked through a little area where the water had made a small pool of sorts that looked shallow since people were playing with babies and small dogs in it... lies. I was up to mid thy and since I was wearing capri pants they got soaked, and filled with ever-present sand. Ugh... Bobby laughed, so did like 6 people around me. What are you gonna do?

Sunday night we attended Medieval times dinner theater. It was a blast. The food was great, the drinks were HUGE, and there were some pretty sexy men in tights. I think I would have fit in well in medieval times because I have lots of chest going on and fair skin... both signs of beauty back then. But the popping out kids all day and being a house wife with no electricity and a husband who never showers don't sound fun. Not like I can go back and test it out or anything.

So, I had a blast, I missed my bed very much and talking to only Bobby for 5 days got a little old. However, it was so worth it. I'll never go on a family vacation again... unless my parents pay for it. Or I'm a mother. I don't see wither of those things happening for a very long time, so for now it's time to work so I can start saving for my next vacation.