The insanity of a fairy princess on a soap box

My own coming out party

2008-12-15T18:49:00.001-08:00

I am stepping out of the darkness and admitting my current path. I do so with apprehension because I know that not all will agree and other may even chose to leave my side. But I, like so many before me, must to confess my secrets. We all have parts of ourselves we keep hidden in the darkness, we fear the rays of light, we hold our cards close to our chest, and remain mum when words are beating at the doors of our lips attempting to break through and be spoken. So here goes I am a “religious” person. I say this knowing that not all believe as I do. Most in my life are strict Christians or are atheists. I fall in neither of those categories. But now I stand before you naked admitting that I am neither, that I have a firm belief in God, the divine. It may not be your God, but I beg you to look beyond the book you’ve read and see that God has many names, many roles. All religions are right. I believe that the divine placed pieces of truth within every religion be it Christianity, Judaism. Islam or yes even pagan. I believe the divine gave all his children around the world a piece of the puzzle believing that it would bring us together in one unified race, culture, and society. But man, flawed as he is, chose to take his piece of the puzzle as the complete truth, and chose to hate those not like him. With the medieval blade he cast down his verdict, and the modern hypocrisy continues the war. So in that aspect all religions are wrong in that they think it is the only way. For the atheist I understand how it is hard to see the beauty beyond the actions of others. But, I simply can no longer deny that there is something greater then me when I have seen a miracle by proxy. So, yes I pray and I pray for you. I believe in the soul, and that one day even after we are on the other side of the veil, I will be reunited with you. And I believe God holds no grudges for those who do not believe, you do not have to be saved for your soul to move to the next plane. You just have to learn the lessons of this life no matter how painful or joyous you must learn from them and let your soul grow. I hope that all in my life understand. I am not sure why I had this burning urge to share this. Perhaps it was my pixie muse whispering in my ear for these words to be written, perhaps it was a confession that I need to release, or perhaps this is just another lesson my soul must learn.

Poetic thoughts of tampons

2008-12-11T19:27:00.000-08:00

I was walking to my history final at an ungodly hour of the morning. It was raining. Not one of those sprinkle rains, it was one of those gushing rains. I was in a bad mood, I wasn’t prepared and I did not want to be there. It was still dark; the amber of morning dawn was not even on the horizon. I took one more step and stopped. I realized I was choosing my mood. What was wrong with m? I love the rain! I need the rain, we all need the rain. It washes away the dirt of yesterday. It gives us a chance to be reborn, a chance to create or recreate ourselves. And there I stood watching it as it gathered in a stream on the pavement and pushed with a dying force to the gutter. Then something white caught my eye. It was a tampon, unused, but a tampon unwrapped in the road. I just stared as it was bugling and refusing to give an inch to the waves of rain rushing it. I realized that often I am the tampon. I am unyielding to an unstoppable force. I expand, hold my ground, and force people to walk around me in wide circles. I was happy to see the tampon winning the war, but I was sad to see that by being unmovable it gave up it right to be a force. So, I decided that today I would not be a tampon, I would a rain girl. My own force to be reckoned with and sweeping away to the gutter all that is no longer needed. I walked on to class stepping in the puddles and grateful that my love had bought me new boots last month. The water rose on my jeans and I smiled at everyone I passed because I remember the greatest gift that the Divine has ever given me, and that is the knowledge that all that is done can be undone. We are all rain. We can change course, change the course of others, and above all remove the mistakes of yesterday.

Is this really me?

2007-11-18T19:21:00.000-08:00

I just finished balling while cleaning the dirty dishes. No, the act of scrubbing meatloaf off of a pan didn't make me weep, it is the realization that I failed my son today. I never thought for a minute that I would be perfect, but I never thought that I would stand by and let the pains of my youth harm him. Here is the story:
I have a step daughter (SD), this relationship is rocky to say the least. I also have a mother in law (MIL), and that relationship isn't much better. I can say that I have tried to be peaceful. That I have tried to look past the looney toon ex, the lies from a child, and the foolishness of my MIL, but I think a time has come when I can't. My MIL has made it clear on many occasions that my SD is her favorite grand child. I am not over exaggerating. She has actually listed the order in which she likes her grand children with SD being number one and Baby Boy NOT EVEN BEING MENTIONED!!
I was not the favorite grandchild. My older brother was loved, my oldest brother the least liked, and that left apathy for me. This caused many problems. I resented my older brother, and I held anger toward all adults in the situation for not behaving better. This truly hurt me for many years, and to be honest still does. I always wondered why I wasn't good enough. What made me worse. No matter what I did it never made them happy. In some ways I was also jealous of my oldest brother, he may have been hated, but because I was a girl I was invincible.
I have spoken of this because it is now happening to my son. My MIL brought my SD on a shopping spree under the guise of bringing her along to help her shop for Christmas gifts. My MIL dropped at least $200 on my SD. She bought her a lot of clothes because me SD lives with a moon bat of a mother who can't be bothered to spend her child support on the child. She has to pay for the lives of the two people she is fucking. No that is not a type-o I really meant two. She is a whore, whose vagina has been seen by more people then Brittany Spears. Yes, I am including the no underwear getting out of the car photo viewed by millions. Yet I regress. So my MIL takes the SD on this grotesque shopping trip and what does she get baby boy?? Some dollar teething rings from the grocery store as an after thought because she FORGOT him until Crow mentioned him.
But that is not the worst part. The worst part is I saw this and said nothing. God help me I just sat there while my son, my only son, was treated like a second class citizen. I feel like such a bad mother, I said nothing. I became the person I actually despised. I sat there and let him be treated like he wasn't good enough. And for what some babysitting when I go to school.
So now you know why I cried. My silence will haunt me.

Waiving the White Flag

2007-11-03T13:10:00.000-07:00

I know I have to finish the story of baby boys birth, but I need to write this blog first. I am officially surrendering to the war on exes. I quit. Crow's ex a.k.a Bad Dye Job wins. I am so tired of the constant fear. I desperately need a new car, but can't get one because I never know when she will get to drinking and thinking that this world owes her something, and then BAM more child support is owed. Which would mean that I can't make the payments and then my car is re-poed. I know it sounds insane to those who don't live in terror everyday, but there is no negotiating with terrorist because their demands are just to massive. You see Crow has a daughter that I have tried and tried to make my own, but she has been poisoned to long to straighten her out now. What bugs me is that after all the lies have been told I think Bad Dye Job actually is believing them now, and I don't know how to fight crazy. Which leads me to the real point I am tired of fighting. I just wanted to be left alone. Unfortunately I have a weekly spy in my home, but as long as I remain detached then I can't get hurt. You see in order to save my own sanity I have to walk away. I can no longer tread water while tied to a boulder that is threatening to drown me. I have been hurt in this situation more times then I can count, and it just doesn't seem worth it anymore. I have my own child to think about. I must do everything I can to protect him for this crazy bitch, even if it means hiding in my room eight days a month. All I ask is that you don't judge me. I have been in fear, true fear for over six years now, I need a break. Now excuse me I need a moment to myself, to reflect.

Baby Boys Birth Part 1

2007-08-16T07:06:00.000-07:00

I have found that I truly enjoy motherhood. It takes a lot out of you, but it gives you so much more. Though Baby Boy is almost three weeks old I can't remember what my life was like without him. Maybe that is the exhaustion talking, or maybe it is my souls connection. It is truly weird that I feel this way because, lets be honest, I am not the maternal type. I don't like other peoples children, I find them to be little snot nosed cretins who I want no where near my precious little boy.
I know that I have awaken the beast in me. I don't mind changing diapers or never sleeping longer then a two hours at a time. As long as he smiles at me, it all seems worth it. This is the story of him coming into this world.
I want to take a moment to sing the praises of my awesome husband. Since the first contraction he has been by my side. He would rub my back, make endless ice chip runs, let me cry "I am stronger then this" when I felt like I could take no more. I would feel the pain coming and I would squeeze the hell out of my Mom's hands as she reminded me to breathe, and I would try to focus on my hubby's touch. When my slack ass nurse wouldn't come in a timely manner so that I could pee in a bed pan, Crow stepped up and brought me the little yellow piss bowl. He was amazing and I will always be grateful for his help. But, I feel that I have jumped ahead in this little story. So let us begin at 4:00 am on July 27.
I didn't sleep that night before. I felt like a child waiting for Christmas day. That is if Christmas consisted of Santa Clause clawing his way out of your stomach in order for you to receive presents. I was wondering what labor would be like, I wondered what Baby Boy would look like. My mind was in a whirl wind. So at 4:00 am I get up and my mouth was dry as hell. I had not been allowed to eat or drink anything after midnight. Kinda like a gremlin. The last time I ate or drank anything was a 9 o'clock the night before. I sit outside on the porch with my Mom as she drinks her coffee and smokes. I am jealous as hell that she gets to drink. I watch the cup go to her mouth and back down. All I had to drink was a small sip of water that I snuck while brushing me teeth. 4:30 comes and I can no longer take this torture, so I get in the shower with Crow and we leave soon after I get out.
It is 5:45 and I arrive at the hospital to fill out paperwork. It takes about 15 minutes and I have to be alone while doing it. Mom, Dad, and Crow are all standing outside the glass doors watching. I think I surprised the receptionist when by hospital policy she asked if I would like to fill out a living will. I said "Yes, I don't want to end up all vegetabled". I don't know why I felt this was the time to decide such matters, and apparently no one else ever request it cause the receptionist looks at me like I am some sort of freak. I smile shyly and quickly leave to get into my delivery room. (Come to think of it the receptionist never brought me that paperwork.)
Anyway, so we get into the delivery room. It reminds me of a best western hotel. Tacky decor and random furniture placed around the room. This old woman demands that I undress completely and get into bed. I do as I was told. The nurse comes in to ask me questions and informs me that she is getting off shift so I would have a different nurse. They put these belts around my stomach and we see that I am already having little contractions. I wonder why I can't feel them. My new nurse comes in and I have to use the restroom. All she had to do was take off those damn belts. The bathroom is about eight feet away. She wont let me go. She grabs the bed pan. I am mortified, but I have to go. I clear the room, she stands over me and watches as I try to empty my bladder. I finally do, but I feel uneasy about it. I can't help but wonder how many women actually gave birth to their babies in the toilet. Surely it is not common practice for women to drop their baby when they drop a load. But, all them damn teenage girls giving birth in bathroom stalls ruined it for us all.
So 8 o'clock comes around and my doctor comes in to break my water. He pokes my uterus and water gushes between my legs. It has begun. It doesn't hurt at this point, it just feels like I am doing crunches. The doctor puts two rods up my vagina. One is to monitor contractions, the other is placed on Baby Boy's head to monitor his heart beat. This does not feel good!
Well, this seems to be a good place to stop. Stay tuned folks cause in the next exciting episode we will discuss active labor.

Goodbye Modesty, Hello Vagina

2007-08-03T14:56:00.000-07:00

There is truly a million things to write about my labor. And in time I will get to them all, but right now I want to talk to you seriously about covering my vagina.
I am EXTREMELY modest, some might say a prude. I do not go around revealing my down under special spot unless it is to my hubby, and only if he intends on treating it to fun time. But as I lay in the hospital bed last Friday my vagina was on display. Everyone and their mother was coming in to examine my clam. Sometimes the nurse would "check" me then leave the blanket down for no apparent reason. I don't know maybe my cootie needed to air dry in order to birth my baby. They never quite explained it to me. All I know is my lips were cold and I wanted desperately to be covered with Victoria's secret.
Also, it was not enough to just display my vagina, everyone had to touch it. Now I am talking about a gentle pat, like it is used to. NO, everyone had to man handle me, and make my cunt their bitch. They acted as if my vagina was some sort of handle to pick me up by and carry me around the room like Paris Hilton's dog. The abuse left me feeling dirty and fisted. No one deserves to feel this way.
So now that I am home, I have gone back to ignoring my vagina. I figure it the right thing to do, after all it needs a break. Maybe someday we (me and V) will sit down, V looking up, me bent between my legs and we will have a discussion about what occurred. But to be honest we probably wont because V has gone recluse and I, well like I said I'm a prude.

Changing Seasons

2007-07-26T03:56:00.000-07:00

After tomorrow life will NEVER be the same. It is scary, exciting, and confusing. Sometimes I can't believe that they are going to let me have a human child. After all this is the girl who was so lazy once when my dog was a puppy and had to pee really bad I just open up the bedroom door threw down some newspaper and let him have at it. Granted I believe that I am more mature then I was at 21, but one still can't help but wonder what kind of mother will I be. Well, I do know that my hubby has faith in me, but his first wife did set the bar pretty low. Her idea of parenting is "don't let the kid die, or get in the way of sex" That simply will not be good enough for me or my child. I want him to have it all. Happiness from within and beauty all around. I guess I just have to keep doing what I know is right, and hope that it all sinks in. You know, come to think about it I am going to be just fine. Doubt will only help keep me in check, so that I at least think things through before acting. I think I am going make this the summer of my life.

Besides Chef Ramsey does anyone cook??

2007-07-02T19:44:00.000-07:00

I am alarmed by the growing trend of fast food families. Thanks to the KFC commercial that has convinced the weaker of Americans that bringing home a bucket of chicken is the same as providing a wholesome meal. Seriously, are we this stupid or just this fat? How disgusting we have become as a nation to where we actually need to shrink our stomach size with surgery because we can't walk away from that bucket of chicken. And because the surgery is such a life commitment they have invented the lap ban. This is a ban that is specially made for fat people who have no self control because they simply can eat their way out of the ban without killing themselves which would be the result if this extremely fat person were to continue to eat this chicken after surgery. I guess this is on my mind because I am pregnant now and starting my own family so it requires me to be more aware of the socialization through commercials. Unlike the selfishness of others I intend to do what is best for my children as opposed to whatever is convenient at the time or simply whatever seems to be the most fun. So I challenge each of you to do the same. Tonight don't "gather around the good stuff" get out those pots and pans and cook something. Or at least give it a good shot. Start small with something like hamburger helper then work your way up to something more challenging.

Call Me Stumpy

2007-05-21T08:32:00.001-07:00

I recently read the old child's book the giving tree. At first I was laughing at the horrible coloring job I did in it when I was in the first grade. But then I started to actually read the story, and I realized that I am the giving tree. I have given all that was valuable away and sadly my kindness has been the demise of myself. I unfortunately do not know when to say "NO" to someone I love in order to save myself. Like the tree I am left now as only a stump in the ground and all the little boys in my life that have taken my fruit, leaves, branches, and trunk, are all in line to now sit on me. Even though I cry desperately for them to release me from the guilt that I form from not being able to help. They don't release me instead they form new guilt by simply asking what I expect them to do without my help. Well, boys you have carved your names into my hearts thus leaving a permanent scar on me, I will always love you, but I am tired now. I wish to decay under the termites alone and I now ask you, What do you expect of me?? Have I not given enough, have I not sacrificed enough, when will I be set free by your unconditional love just as I have set you free by mine so many times. Is it not possible to keep you in my life without giving something to you boys? Why can't we simply love each other with neither one having to sacrifice?
I ask this because even now as I am about to attempt to save myself I am scared. Scared that the ones that I love will no longer talk to me when I save myself. They will see this as some act of war on them rather then what it is me saving myself before I go under. So can I have it? Can I still have you in my life, still have your love in spite of the fact that I have no more to give? That is all this stump wants to know.

Orphans make the best lovers

2007-03-26T10:27:00.000-07:00

I have been avoiding all social contact lately. I wouldn't say that I am depressed, just a little dumb founded. I sometimes wonder what the hell I am doing. I now have to put my money where my mouth is. It doesn't sound too difficult, but since I am poor I really need that dollar. I am also no longer looking for validation. I stamp my own parking pass now. My priorities are shifting and while I can't make everyone happy, I can at least tell them to fuck off. I may just mess everything up. True. Or maybe I can't feel the pea, and I might just surprise everyone. At any rate, I need time to figure this all out. Even the best laid intentions seem to be unwanted advice today. If I am the only person left in this world without the answers then let me be, because I am happy in my ignorance. Stop laying on the guilt and the "if I were you"s because you are not me and you don't know what's best. Also in my next life I am marrying an orphan.

... Or maybe this is all the rantings of a girl who really needs a camel.

I'm Back

2007-01-01T17:50:00.000-08:00

Ok folks I am no longer MIA. I have internet again. Thank the gods!

It looks like 2007 is going to be an interesting year. I have a court battle I am facing, I become a VOL in just a few short days, and the biggest news is I have a parasite!! OK most people perfer the term "pregnancy" but when you cry over a baked potato this is not a pregnancy issue it is a body snatching issue. I am only about two months pregnant but I spend my days sleeping, puking, and crying. I sure love my "glow". Oh yeah and the gas. I am slowly turning my house into a gas chamber. I actually fart and burp at the same time! If you have never experienced the dual blowing of wind I don't suggest it. Well, it is almost 9 pm. Which means bed time, but expect more in the year to come.

The Lesser Of Evils

2006-10-30T18:23:00.000-08:00

I voted today. I am proud to say that I voted not to amend the state constitution to essentially ban gay marriage. This was the reason I rolled out of bed and voted early. But while I was there I thought what the hell I will vote for some guys as well. Then I got to thinking the state in which politics in this nation has become. We no longer vote for someone we vote against the other guy. All the adds ran this time were negative I couldn't tell you what either guy stood for all I could tell you was that both seemed to fuck up a lot. Is this what really makes people feel the need to enact their freedoms and right to vote? Here they turned the word Christian into some sort of catch all political statement. We even had a guy make a commercial while in a church. Now being Christian isn't a bad thing but what does it really have to do with running my state? See the problem here is most people don't know how to decode these commercials. If it says "he voted to give our school children the morning after pill" It does not mean that he ran around handing out abortion pills like tic-tacs. It probably means that he just voted to let it remain over the counter. Or if the add says "He hired illegal aliens to save money" It probably means that in a company that employs a few thousand people one or two people settling for less pay and poor work conditions slipped through the crack. I tell you where is the candidate that I can get behind? Where is the JFK of my generation, you know someone you support. Maybe I am just being overly optimistic, but hey don't I deserve the best man money can buy? This is why while sitting in the booth I had an epiphany and I voted for the third guy. The guy to poor to run an ad. Some say I threw my vote away but I call it civil disobedience. So there you go folks the answer to today's politics vote for "the other guy."

Returning soon

2006-09-11T21:06:00.000-07:00

Ok folks I have not died or anything. I just bought my first house with the hubby in June and still haven't gotten internet. Please don't forget about me. I know it has been awhile since I blogged but life has gone crazy. I will try to find a way to get on the internet more often. But here is a quick re-cap.

I bought a three bedroom two bath house. It isn't much to look at but the potential is endless.
The hubby and I have hired a lawyer to get custody of our step daughter ( I will explain the whole situation later when the case has been resolved. What can I say I want to leave my blog open to the public but at the same time I don't want to tip my hand to anyone who may be reading it)
I got accepted into UT. And will be returning to college this spring. YAY it is long over due.
Met a friend finaly in this town
Oh yeah and I got really angry at the gay community for going crazy and fighting against me in court. (Once again more on that later)

Well, folks there you have it my life during my break from blogging. If you are still reading awesome. If not I will drop you a line soon!

Go ahead and fly your freak flag high

2006-04-03T18:30:00.000-07:00

I am a freak. No not in the stay at home and masturbate to Star Wars kind of way. In an I don't march quite in step with all the other little ants kind of way. I realized this tonight when I went to dinner with this girl from work and her friends to celebrate her birthday. There I was with pig tails in my hair and all my piercing exposed sitting across from preppie girls. My freak flag wasn't only flying high there was a spot light on the damn thing. At first I played it calm attempting, for just a moment, to march like all the other ants. It just could not be done. Every time I got into step I would get a certain urge to just start a spastic dance. My freak was pissed that I was even attempting to hide it. Then it took over.
All the girls were having one of those "Oh my God, I am like such a bitch" conversations. I chime in with " I don't recall sending any of you a membership card to join my club." Their jaws dropped to the floor like they were about to give a blow job to a whale. Stunned. My freak had them just where we wanted them. So to ice the cake we added " But then again I am a different breed of bitch."
At the moment they all knew that they were in the presents of a freak. They all looked puzzled trying to figure out how I had snuck past their guard. Well, I knew because they had only seen me at work. There I am country fresh, the only thing freaky about me is my super girl underwear. They felt caged and I could see the fear in their eyes. I was happy though to be doing my own little spastic dance because I was free. By the end of the night I had them all laughing their asses off and I even got a few of them to raise their freak flag for awhile.
You see we all have a freak flag. Some of us raise it all the time some of us only raise it alone behind locked doors. But we all have it. We all eventually get bored following the leader in front of us and we all want to break the line. Our freak is the thing that convinces us that blue matches green and red all at the same time. Or our freak is the thing that will make you sing off key at the top of your lungs alone in a car. So come on everybody fly your freak flag in the open. You may make new friends and at the very least you will have one hell of a time doing a spastic dance while the other ants march by.

WARNING: My cooking may cause lung cancer

2006-03-30T16:40:00.000-08:00

I am a terrible cook which is why my hubby and I tend to eat out more then in. I have managed to master one dish which is spaghetti. I make the sauce from scratch and to blow my own horn it is a damn good meal.
But when I venture out of my one dish specialty problems emerge. My worst foe is by far chicken. And as dinner tonight proved, I may never conquer this mortal enemy.
I had been away for awhile and I had missed my life something fierce while I was a refugee in Sweet Grass, Montana. To mark my coming home I decide to cook chicken for dinner. I was aware that I didn't have a good track record with chicken, but that is what my hubby wanted so I agreed. He laid down for a nap and about an hour later I started dinner.
I sprayed the pan with olive oil, and set the burner on medium high. I placed the chicken in the pan. So far so good. I turned around and began to wash the vegetables. Next thing I know the smoke alarm in the house are going off. I turn back around and the entire house has a blue haze in it. I run and flip the chicken. When I lift the lid a huge blue cloud of smoke enters the air and the second smoke alarm at the end of the hall starts going off. I run and rip both alarms off the wall. They are still blaring their obnoxious "beep beep" noise so I throw them into a pile of dirty clothes. At this point the animals run into the far back room and all three lay on the floor attempting to get away from the smoke. I don't have a single window that opens in this house so I decided to open the door. There was no breeze here today so the smoke slowly trickled its way out the door. It took about an hour for all of the smoke to leave and for my animals to emerge from the floor. The worst part of this all is that Kevin never once got out of bed! He knew that I was cooking chicken, and that there was a far greater odds that I was just destroying the meat then the odds of the house actually catching on fire. I guess he knows me to well.
So I have put my foot down. The only thing we will eat in the house that is prepared here is microwave food.
Now if you will excuse me the Surgeon General is here and I must comply with him and post a note on the front door that reads.
WARNING:
Food prepared in this house may cause lung cancer. You are urged not to remain in this dwelling while food is prepared. Women who are pregnant, nursing, or may become pregnant are urged to leave the second the stove is turned on. If you chose to enter while food is being prepared, you do so at your own risk, and the cook is in no way liable for injury or illness that may have been caused due to entry.

The year of the dog is a bitch

2006-03-01T19:47:00.000-08:00

In 1982 a little girl was born. She was going to breathe life back into this apathetic world. She was full wonder and awe. She wanted to conquer the world and make everyone sing together in happy times. It was the year of the dog and I was born.
originally I was really excited about 2006, it was the year of the dog so I thought what the hell the cosmos are throwing me a bone and giving me the year off of pain and suffering. I was wrong. The cosmos were grabbing me by the nape of the neck and doggie style humping an entire litter of turmoil into my womb. Thanks a lot cosmos the least you could do is call or send flowers.
You all know about Bryen, well the bad news for the month of February didn't end there. Earlier this week I got the call that my Grandpa has terminal cancer and isn't going to live long. Apparently it was already decided that I was to go to Montana and play ambassador for the family. I agreed because I know that my Dad can't deal with it and that he would rather ignore the problem and none of the other family members could stomach my step-grandmother when it comes down to an one on one visit. So I am packing my bags and making arrangements to say goodbye to my grandfather. I wasn't real close to him, but I feel I owe him enough to be there since in my later years he has helped by supporting me in college. Now I must travel say hello and goodbye in hopes that by being the families ambassador and wishing Grandpa luck in the next life the cosmos will let up and let me find just an inkling of solace in the year of the dog.

By request

2006-02-23T09:36:00.000-08:00

Ok folks here are two of the poems that I have written. Now please be nice I have never claimed to be a Shakespeare, but I like both of these a lot and I hope you do too. They give you a little peek into my world. So enjoy!

Soapbox Kinda Girl

Forty fire trucks do racing by
They’re off to catch the falling sky
And men with calluses and worn out shoes
Are quickly sent to catch the moon
And all the stars will soon burn out
I just sit calmly watching this all from the ground
You refused to listen to my epiphany as it was told
All of you said that I was just a soapbox kinda girl
Now you want answers and the truth
I just watch all of you and remain mute
Women begin to cry and children begin to scream
I break down, take a deep breath and tell you what I’ve seen
Relax people the falling sky will soon stop
And the men that caught the moon will be ordered to put it back up
There will be a few starts to strong to forget how to shine
And you can forget who helped you in a matter of time
You’ll never have to admit that you need this soapbox kinda girlYou can just go back to your harsh words and cruel tongue even after a destroyed world

Pretty Pink Tears

One day when I quit lying and fooling myself
I will become a real girl
There will be no more wishing upon a star
Only to see it burn out a million light years away
Their dancing puppet strings connected to me tickle
I giggle
And swat them away with my penance whip

Getting tired now

Then I will hear them say
Dance child everyone loves you when you dance
Tie a pink ribbon in your hair
Tighten the screws
Real girls cry
Why don’t you cry?
I would like to see you cry

Broken yet?

I know what has to be done
It’s always done the same way
Super glue the pieces with Prozac
Paint a smile with a fine tip brush
I won’t forget to rosy my cheeks

I am a dancing puppet on a stage made of clay
Quickly dissolving under the tears
Finally the tears

There are no more real girls
Only the fools still playing the part

An unforgettable memorial

2006-02-21T20:19:00.000-08:00

Last Friday night was Bryen's memorial services. Earlier in the week his roommate and I discussed the need to do something because we were both so disappointed about not being able to attend the funeral. We decided that rather then have a room full of crying weeping people we would send Bryen off with a party. I can honestly say that this was a bitter sweet party full of tears, beers, laughter, and stories that should have never been told.
Bryen's death did the impossible. He bought employees and managers under one roof to celebrate a life and to mourn a death. Well, I cried everyone cried and I think Bryen realized how much people were hurting over losing him, so I will not dwell on the sadness instead I will make Bryen proud and dwell on the insanity.
I walked into the party and the first thing I heard was "There's my Shiela, I need my Shiela." James was crying out to me. James is a sweet guy. He is about 300 pounds, but I swear most of it is heart. He is a kind faggot who like most faggots has adopted me as his sister. I am "his Shiela" Seeing a faggot in distress I run over to him and ask him to talk. He begins the discussion by showing me the entire wine bottle that he has some how managed to down in 20 minutes. He is shit faced and distraught over losing another gay brother. I console him with words of comfort and make him laugh. His depression quickly changes into queasiness and I send him into the bathroom to puke. This is where James passed out until I drove him home that night because he was obviously in no shape to drive and his other ride left him.
Next as I am walking across the room about to go downstairs and see the place that Bryen had hung himself my manager Paul corners me. He tells me that this tragedy has shown him a great light in me that he never knew was there before. He says that he was grateful for all of my love of "his people" and that he was glad to see that light. I excused myself to go down stairs and deliver the flowers I brought for Bryen, and to also give him a stern but loving goodbye.
Ashley met me at the door to the basement because she said that I shouldn't go down there alone. I was grateful for that because I had something that I felt I need to confess to Bryen's bestfriend. I told her that when I first met Bryen I didn't like him. I expected her to say something like "why he was such a great guy" But instead she said "Don't feel bad when I first met Bryen I didn't like him either" Those words that she gave me helped me put my mind to ease. Some one else understood what it meant to have to work to remove Bryen's mask. I said goodbye to Bryen kissed the rafter that he hung from and joined the party.
While I was away it is important that you know two facts: first my manager Paul drank a whole lot more, second some "loving" Christians felt it was appropriate to tell Rachel Bryen's roommate that he was in hell. Ok got that? And Begin Scene:
Danielle this cool ass lesbian was beating this Christians ass. I mean not in a cat fight kind of way, but in a dike in the jail house courtyard kind of way. Me being the only sober one had to break up the fight. To be honest I didn't jump in right away because I felt that the Christian was getting what she deserved for going to someone's memorial and announcing that they were in hell. But when Danielle went after her with a beer bottle I had to stop it. As I am attempting to break up this battle Paul decides that it is time to announce in front of everyone there that he and Bryen had been having a love affair. This bomb got the Christian out of the hot seat and she slinked away to go home. When I heard this news my draw dropped. I knew that I had to do damage control because if this bit of info got out Paul would lose his job. I got Paul into the kitchen and told him to stay put. Then I found out who heard this confession and convinced them that Bryen's memorial was just like Vegas what happens there stays there. Luckily everyone agreed. But while I was away sugar coating a glorious bit of gossip that Bryen was probably laughing and pissing his pants when he saw Paul was in the kitchen drinking more and asking the other faggot employee's if he could put his hand in their pocket. There was no takers except Nate who let him do it and this is how I found Paul and Nate. At this point everyone started fleeing. James's ride left him and quickly it was just Paul, Nate (whose ride left him as well), Rachel, her boyfriend, and myself. I knew that I had to give both Nate and James a ride home so I decided that it was time for us to leave as well. As we are gathering our things Paul hugs me in a fag death grip and tell me that he knew that upset me about the whole Bryen going to hell thing and I started to cry again. Then Paul comforted me by reminding me that I knew all along in my heart that it wasn't true. That I always knew that God made gays and would not sentence them to hell. It worked I had a moment of clarity. My heart was shaken but it would not lie and I knew that Bryen was in heaven or something like that. But then I had my epiphany Bryen was going to be "punished" for committing suicide but his punishment was to watch over every single person that cried even a single tear for him. He now has a full time job protecting us. Paul agreed that I had it right then Paul went insane. When he spoke next he didn't come from left field he came from outerspace. He then proceeds to tell me that he knows God loves him because he has had sex with a priest on the alter of his church numerous times. Now he got pretty graphic and I got scared hearing about a holy penis, but his death grip was to tight I couldn't get away. I had to hear the entire uncomfortable story. After he was done I quickly ran out the door.
Now I know you are thinking that this is all a lie. But I promise you it is true. The Christian and the lesbian still wont speak to one another, Paul wont look me in the eyes, and Bryen is watching over me right now and laughing at his very shady, very weird Bryen-ish memorial.

The candles were blown out to quickly

2006-02-10T21:22:00.000-08:00

My very first blog I introduced a young man the I named the Shady Faggot. And originally I thought he was a foe. Well as time went on I learned that he was not a foe but a wayward spirit. His real name was Bryen Chaze, and he was a good guy. But last night as I was blowing out the candles and making the wish that my 24th year would be one with out turmoil and grief Bryen was hanging himself from the rafter in his basement. Last night Bryen said goodbye to this world and if you will allow me I want to try to sort out the emotions.
I write this with tears running down my face. Just yesterday Bryen called to wish me happy birthday. I was silly excited about this because he was the only friend to remember my birthday. He said "Well, I am going into the barrel to get my check now, but I wanted to say happy birthday and let you know that I hope your day is fun. I will see you tomorrow at work and I will give you your birthday gift then." I was so happy that he remembered my birthday and that he had actually thought to get me a gift. As we said goodbye I never thought for a million years that I would wake up and hear the news that I did.
The story is still foggy and I am not sure that I will ever know the whole truth, but I do know that he had a fight with the love of his life Todd. And as Todd was out whoring around with some guy named Justin, Bryen kept calling and pleaing for Todd to talk to him. The final message Bryen left Todd told Todd of Bryen's plans to end his life. Todd didn't bother to call back or call anyone else to help him. Todd is a killer. His apathy killed Bryen. He is also the most cruel person I have ever heard of. As I was at work crying on and off Todd was at Bryen's house pillaging and taking everything that wasn't nailed down. Bryen's room mate was in shock and could not muster up the strength to stop Todd. Bryen's room mate came into the barrel to tell me this at which time she looks me in the eyes and says "Bryen loved you and he said he wished you all had become friends sooner." I lost it and ran crying into the back.
At this moment I am sad. I keep thinking that maybe it isn't real. That maybe when I wake up in the morning I will find out that this is all just a really bad joke. But unfortunately I know that the truth is Bryen is gone. And while there is many to blame it is to late to do anything about them. This boy had a hard 22 years. His family disowned him and made it clear that they did not love him. His love made it clear that he did not love him. And I didn't have enough time to make it clear that I did love him.
I am also mad at Bryen. All he had to do is pick up the phone and I would have been there. He was not alone in this world and he didn't even give me the chance to save him. My heart is broken because another young, talented, gay man is dead over the typical gay tragedy.
I hope now that where ever he is he is happy and that he knows that he was loved. I hope he is smiling and looking on from heaven with some really hot guy. Because the boy deserves it. After 22 years of pain I hope now he is free. I feel blessed and cursed all at the same time. Blessed that I got to know the real Bryen before he passed on and cursed because I have to feel the pain of losing him. But I am truly glad that I knew him and made him happy, even for just awhile. Bryen Chaze was a character and I know that my life was a bit richer because of him.

Goodbye Bryen, I wont see you tomorrow, but I will see you again.

And thus begins my 24th year

2006-02-09T22:14:00.000-08:00

I am so glad that 23 is over! It is a year of turmoil, but also a year to learn and grow. I made it out alive, stronger, and hopefully wiser. I have a secret to share now. When I was young and certain that my life had to be on schedule I swore that my first child would be born when I was 24. Now that I have officially been this old for a day I have decide that the young me was insane. I want this year to be about me. I don't want to raise another human being I want to raise myself and probably some others like Marty, Clementine, Crow, and Shady Faggot. I want to spend this year getting to know myself and having fun. I NEED to have fun this year. I want memories and joys. I want to try at least three new things this year, and yes these three things are open for suggestions.
I have also made this the year of simplistic gratitude. I am going to attempt to be grateful for what I have and forget about the Jones. Wish me luck! I want to simplify my life and get rid of all the negative energy that I have following me. I want to make sure that everyone in my life knows that I love them and let them know that love is all I want in return. So now a new chapter in my life is going to emerge. And even if it takes me off schedule I am not scared, because lets be honest folks I throw out that schedule a while ago.

Silently Screaming

2006-02-06T22:17:00.000-08:00

I have been really depressed as of late. I acknowledge that so I guess some progress has been made in my life. You see I have been debating from within all these things that I want to say, but I am to afraid to say. What are you supposed to do when someone you love is going down the wrong path? If you sit quietly by they may become lost forever and if you speak up you may push them away forever. I guess the only thing you can hope for is that your relationship is strong enough to with stand the turmoil. So Clementine here goes nothing.
I love you. You are my brother but as of late I have become saddened by your actions. You hang out with people that wish you nothing but harm. They are plagued with their own selfish reasons. You say that they are "good people" but you don't even buy the lie you are attempting to sell me, I can tell it from your voice. You have gone a destructive path, and this pains me. No, I can't tell you how to live your life, but I plead for mercy. Please stop. Please come back from the darkness. You have to know that you are not alone in this world and if there is anything I can do I will do it. I need you and I am so afraid of you damaging your body further or going to jail. I know that by now you have it figured out that you aren't just living your life for yourself, Every decision affects me too. So Louis ignore that voice in your head and hear me when I say it is never to late to turn around and take another path.

I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend
You could cut ties with all the lies that you've been living in
And if you do not want to see me again I would understand
"Jumper" Third eye blind

God?? Will you pick up the phone?

2006-02-01T18:11:00.000-08:00

Now before you pull out your shot guns and attempt to blow me away I want to make it known that I don't hate Christ. And well him dying for me I have no problem with either. What I have a problem with is the strictly Sunday Christians. You all know who you are. You are the people that are rude, obnoxious, and drive the speed limit in the far left lane forcing all those behind you to read your "rapture is coming" bumpersticker over and over. Monday through Saturday you treat humanity as if it were your toilet paper then you rise early on Sunday go and say a Amen or two and you are absolved of your sins. Really?? You buy that?? Well, guess what I have a bridge you can buy cheap too.
See the problem with the modern Christian is they have forgotten the whole love thy neighbor bit and focus entirely to much on the a man should not lie down with a man as he lays down with a woman. Which to me is not God being anti gay it is actually God being pro doggy style. Which I think we all no is the number one way a gay couple has sex, while us straightys tend to rely on missionary. So in theory God was just giving gays a clue there, that if they want to have sex they can't do it the same way they would do with a woman.
I recently was speaking with Clementine about the Christian God and how I wish he was the old testament God as opposed to the "new" one. You see old God left nothing up to faith. He made damn sure you knew he was there and that you were doing what he wanted. Old testament God needed no interpretation. No one would argue about what he meant when he said... Why? Because he was a proactive god. If you were attempting to build the tower of Babylon he would send a flock of geese to chew off your balls. In the old testament God would send down fire from the heavens for every minor infractions, like say the Rollingstones refusal to retire. He was micro managing and kicking ass. Then his son decided that it all seemed a little cruel and that maybe his Dad could forgive so he climbed on a cross and forgave his executioners for killing him. Then arose from the dead. Well, you all know the story. Now God is on some sort of long sabbatical and everything here on earth is going to hell. I know he is going to hate to come home and check his answering machine and attempt to answer all the prayers he missed while sipping a sex on the beach by the ocean in Eden. I know I have thrown a couple up to the heavens only to be ignored. Haven't we all?
You see Christians I am not saying that you are wrong. All I am saying is that your God is a bit out of the picture if you will. He isn't all that interested in you or your plight. Yet you continue to act as if he is there and lose precious sleep on Sunday to absolve yourself of your sins that he couldn't care less about. I am the opposite of you. I plan on being more protocol son then loyal follower. I will slip in at the finish line and claim all your glory. Because the new God is to busy lounging to keep tabs on me. So please put away your shot guns it is almost Sunday and you have some planning to do and cross to hang from.

Destiny Calling

2006-01-26T20:54:00.000-08:00

I have been thinking a lot lately about destiny. In my own personal and self created spiritual beliefs destiny plays a big part. As most of you know my 24th birthday is approaching at rapid speed. And today I was thinking hmm when is destiny going to call me. What if he already called and I was on the phone and my call waiting didn't work so all he got was a busy signal. Will he call back later? Or is destiny a one shot deal?
Better yet what if in my short 24 years I have already fulfilled my destiny and it is unannounced to me? Now I am just a dog chasing it's own tail. I am searching for that which I already have kind of like when you rip your entire house apart looking for car keys only to find them in your pocket. If that is true, that I have already fulfilled me destiny should I feel cheated? I mean what the hell am I supposed to do with the rest of my time. I am not saying that I have, this is simply a what if question.
I am almost 24 and I am really starting to search for a meaning or purpose to all of this. I am too stubborn to believe that this all random events with no connection to a larger picture. But what if I am just fooling myself and destiny is a man made notion like money. What if everything we strive for is simply a creation of our own minds imagination. What if hunting destiny is just like hunting Big Foot. That in my opinion is almost more scary then missing the call.
I recently read a blog where a man said that he was doing God's work. This got me reevaluating my own beliefs. At first I was envious of this person because they were so certain that they had it all figured out and they knew exactly what they were doing. As the only member of my faith (and this statement is true because I am the creator of it) is it possible that I am completely wrong? But this leads me to be forced to explain my concept of religion. I will make this brief, but I feel that at the very least you will get a good laugh out of it.
To start when I was in my teens I went through a period where I felt that I really needed faith. This led me on my "church search". I went to just about every religions church or wooded area attempting to find one that I could give my full blind faith to. I never found that place. But frustrated because I wanted something to believe in I decided to evaluate my life and base my beliefs on things that I believed to be true.
First I guess I should mention my higher being. I sometimes refer to it as God because there is no other way of stating it without confusing people. My God is a great being. It doesn't care if you believe in it or not. All it wants is for you to fulfill your destiny. Destiny is a tricky thing though, your destiny could be something grand like saving the lives of others or it could be something sinister like taking the lives of others. Your destiny is your own and you decide whether or not to follow it. If you do follow it then your soul moves on to another place, if you don't then you are recycled and given how many ever chances it takes for you to get it right.
See simple enough. I will stop there because after that things become a little a tricky and to some a little freaky. The whole point of any of this was to get you all thinking about your destiny. To remind you to listen to that little whisper inside yourself and to use you call waiting because you never know who might be calling.

Doesn't play well with others

2006-01-22T16:41:00.000-08:00

When I was in kindergarten I had issues. I did a lot of things my first year of school. I even escaped one day by running away. It was the beginning and end of my short lived track career. But there is one thing, looking back on it now, that I made brutally clear at five years old. I hated authority and I was built to rise up against the man. At that young age I entered the counter culture.
There is one day that stands out that I feel I should tell you about. This day explains so many of my actions as and adult. My teacher was truly a prophet. So walk with me now down memory lane.
It was a brisk spring day in Hawaii. It was a day not unlike any other day for most, but for me it was a day of revolution. There was a little boy in my class, and while his name I can't quite remember his face I still see clearly. He had freckles and blonde hair. He was tall for a kinder kid. He was the class bully and a royal snot. Actually he was king snot. Everyday before lunch we were allowed play time. From the first day of school King Snot made it clear to all that during play time he was the only one allowed to play with the green clay. This didn't bother me for most of the year. I would simply play house with the other girls. I always found a baby doll and sometimes I lucked out and got the one baby doll without crayon marks all over her face. Life was peaceful until that fateful day. I believe that it was at this point that destiny intervened. Bored with the crayon babies and make believe parties I knew that I wanted more then just a house. Then from the corner of my eye I saw that little boy playing with the green clay. The clay appeared to glisten. It was taunting me and beckoning to be sculpted by a master such as myself. I knew from the clay's pleas for mercy what I had to do. I walked right up to that little boy and did the five year olds equivalent to knighthood. In front of the entire class I pushed this bully aside and snatched the green clay right from his fat unwashed hands. Then with me chest puffed out I looked him right in the eye and said "mine". The entire class was watching in amazement and glee, unfortunately so was my teacher. She came marching over and demanded that I give him the clay. I defiantly told her "no" and consequently my name was put on the board. I proceeded to play with clay and I protected it like my precious.
The rest of the day ran like usual. At the end of the day we all sat down on the floor in front of the teacher and waited for our teddy grahm. This was a little slip of paper with a teddy bear on it and a message saying that you were "beary good today." The students without their name on the board received one. Well, while the teacher was handing them out she gave me one. I was a so happy, I honestly believed that she had figured out her mistake and was attempting to right it. I was wrong. Not a moment later she happened to glance at the board and see my name. She asked for it back and when who extended her hand I heard the firing of a gun and I proceed to sprint around the room. At this point I was still in the prime of my track career and the teacher just couldn't catch me. I was just praying that I could out run her until the bell rang and then I could dart out the door with my teddy grahm. Unfortunately before the bell rang my teacher had caught the handle of my turquoise minnie mouse back pack and had slammed me to the floor. There I was dazed staring up at this mammoth woman as she reached into my child sized hand and ripped my teddy grahm from my hand. She replaced it with a note that read "Shiela does not play well with others." I found it convenient that when my Mom picked me up that day my teacher told her that I ran away, but my teacher "forgot" to mention the body slam to the floor she gave me. I told my Mom about it on the way home. It could not have been better. The heat quickly was off me and on my teacher. I had committed the perfect crime, well kind of.
You see I tell you this story because to this day it is true. My kindergarten teacher handed me a prophecy that day. She told everyone just the kind of princess I would be. It is still true I don't play well with others, but you know what who needs the others.

Birthday Message

2006-01-20T11:41:00.000-08:00

Happy birthday bro bro. Well, you survived another year and you are at the dawn of a new one. I hope that everyone in your life thanks you for being there for them. I hope your birthday is special and grand. I hope Orion leads you home this year and gives you great gifts of knowledge. You are an amazing person and I can't wait to see who you will become in your 29th year. I love you and again happy birthday.

In search of a hobby

2006-01-16T14:42:00.000-08:00

Now that I have taken a semester off of school I am desperate to fill the time. I have decided I need a hobby. Your usual hobbies wont work for me. I could never get into say stamp collecting or religion. So I am searching aimlessly for my nitch. I could exercise more, but that would require me to quit smoking. And this would just leave me in search of a new vice so I don't think that is the answer. I thought about reading more. But I find the book store a bit depressing and a daunting task. All these books that I would love to read staring at me. Then I spend hours trying to whittle my decision down to one book. Then I usually end up leaving empty handed and enraged.
There is so many hobbies to choose from, but how do I know which one is right for me. I got interested in wood burning, I even got a kit. I was all excited until I found out that you need artistic talent. So now the kit just sits in my crafts closet tormenting me. I am at an impasse because I am not sure how I a grown person finds something new to enjoy. I am about to be 24 and I am finding myself already stuck in my ways. Is that even possible?
Well, for now I will keep searching. If you have any ideas, please share. And just keep in mind I want it to be something cheap, smoker friendly, and fun. Wish me luck!

Another World Wonder

2006-01-14T18:06:00.000-08:00

I have been thinking a lot lately about some pretty heavy issues. One in particular has been racking my brain. No, it is not why are we here or does God ever take a day off. It is much deeper then that and harder to solve. I of course am talking about the decade old philosophical condrum the riddle of the McRib. Now I know that I am not supposed to burden you readers, and I know that this subject is likely to offend. But I have been searching my soul for an answer to the riddle. Why is McDonalds getting rid of the McRib?
This is obviously some sort of psychological test on the American people. Maybe we have been fooled and Mickey D's is actually owned by North Korea. They have been laying down the ground work for decades on this one. Now that they have nuclear weapons, they are going to come at us full force. First they will get rid of the McRib, then they will get rid of McDonalds all together. Then when all Americans are to weak because they haven't eaten for days which is a direct result of the fact that they are to lazy to cook and can't afford Burger King due to gas prices. Then and only then will North Korea strike.
They have this plan in action already. This is why their Nuclear missiles are pointed directly at San Francisco. They know that there is only two kinds of people in that city queers and tree huggers. The Koreans also know that in order for their plan to take hold they must get rid of that city because they cause the biggest threat. There is no way that queers or tree huggers will be crippled by the lack of McDonalds since neither eats there anyway. Tree huggers are repulsed by the idea of eating a cow (ha but the joke is on them, the burgers are actually soy and horse meat with very little cow. Stupid tree huggers.) and queers would are to afraid of getting fat and dying alone with 400 cats. So in order for the North Koreans to invade they must get rid of San Francisco first. They will quickly follow that bombing with another bombing of LA. This is where the mutants that never eat and appear to be able to survive on Gucci and Calvin live. They wont be weakened by the loss of Mickey D's either.
Now, I know that you are scared and have probably already stopped reading this post to run to McDonalds and buy enough McRibs to stock pile your bomb shelter (which you will begin building tomorrow after a trip to Home Depo. Note: Home Depo is owned by our governments terror alert team, but that is another blog.) So I wish you all health, happiness, and fast food in these obviously turmoil times. Also, I would like to note that I don't hate North Korea and neither does anyone I associate with, so please sir may I have another McRib.

My Turn: A few of my favorite things

2006-01-11T18:41:00.000-08:00

I love the sunset, it is another chapter closed. I love shopping at night when no one else is in the store and all the little kiddies are tucked safely into bed. I love animals. The way that they are pure and love so unconditionally. They have no bad days or bad moods to take out on you. All they want is food in their bellies, a warm lap to lay down in, and they will give you their life. I love that my Mom gets me a music box every year since I was 10. It makes me smile just looking at them. I love the way my husband draws me. I am beautiful and mysterious. I love all of his art work and the way that he never stops amazing me. I love how my Dad tells the funniest stories that come from the middle of no where. I love how my brother Patrick is quiet and reserved and has the best conversations about pop culture. I love how Louis is always a phone call away with some insane new story that leaves me smiling. I love all the people in my life and how they turn to me in times of need. I like being the knight in shining armor that protects the underdog and brings justice to the weak. I like a good confrontation. The kind where you are fighting for a cause you believe so passionately about. I strive well when the cards are dealt against me. I love taking a test that I have study really hard for and know that I am overly prepared because I know the answer to every question. I feel kind of like Napoleon and the countries are each question and I just plow through and conquer. I love music that has lyrics that pierce my soul. I love my DVR because I can watch tv any time I want. I love Care Bears. They remind me of simpler times since passed and they remind me to find pleasures in life that are more then superficial. I love playing in the rain. I like the way the rain makes the entire world like a phoenix. It washes away all the dirt and leaves everything strong enough to with stand it a chance to rise up and reinvent itself. I love my life and everyone in it. Flaws, warts, smiles, laughter I love it all.

Scorn Lovers

2006-01-11T17:03:00.000-08:00

Why is that people when they lose love also lose their minds. I know I was one of them. Egging cars and calling at midnight drunk. If this thing we call love is so made up then why does it hurt when it is gone. I was thinking about Mr. Anonymous and at first I was getting pissed off. Sorry Ty for using your comments as a posting ground to throw down the gauntlet. But now with a little time for reflection I find that I pity him. He is hurt because he thinks there is some obvious flaw in him that everyone else but him sees. Now I don't personally know Mr. A but I know how he feels. It is always hard when someone you cared for moves on. That is until you move on then quite frankly you could care less. Ironically as time passes you remember why you liked that person but the reasons for the break up become foggy. You might remember who dumped who but not why the break up occurred. I know for myself there is only one ex that I am civil with. He was my first boyfriend and second kiss. He burned me pretty bad, but I got and apology and a lot of cool shit out of him. When he or any boyfriend asked for their shit back I always refused. A gift is a gift. Besides is it truly my fault that I had an exit plan and you didn't. Why should I be punished for packing my parachute while your ass was to lazy to do it. That is one plus side of every break up I have ever been apart of. The stuff you walk away with. Hell, it doesn't even have to be my break up for me to make out like a bandit. Right Clem? I was always smart about that. Not lavishing my fling with anything I wasn't willing to throw away. I never lost anything in a break up, but I have gained jewelry, jackets, hats, car keys. Men would just give me shit trying to seduce my pants off, then when things went south I walked away like I had won the lottery. Of course there was tears and pain, but when the dust settled I always felt like I had won the break up. But let me get back to Mr. A. I apologize for not being sympathetic to your pain. Maybe you had no cd to comfort you. I am sure that we are both smart from text books. But as an old soul let me give you one piece of advise. Move on. Reading Ty's blog only pains you and forces you to lash out on undeserving people. I can clearly see that you love nerve is still raw so stop aggravating it. Learn from that relationship and next time at least get collateral before dating anyone. I am telling you it always helps mend the wounds faster when you pawn their Dad's ring and buy all your friends dinner. Not that I did that... or did I?

2006-01-09T18:36:00.000-08:00

I haven't been blogging lately because I have been pretty down. It all started earlier in this week when I changed my SC drivers license to a TN one. I know it seems foolish but I felt like I was giving up a part of myself. Though my new picture is a whole hell of a lot better, I still feel like I betrayed my soul. You see now it is official I am no longer a South Cacky Lacky girl I am from this state. There is no going back. Even when I went to Germany I didn't have to give up my SC license. I guess I always wanted the light left on in case I liked the dancing, but now the light is clearly to far away. I feel alone and isolated. I have my husband and my pets, but I don't really have anyone else here. You see I don't consider a person to be in my life if everything has to be on their terms. Maybe it is infantile of me, but I believe that if someone never gives into you and lets you have it your way then you are in their life but they are not in yours. It is kind of like I am a guest star on their show. My in laws and friends are like this. If they devise the plan then I am supposed to make room and do it, but if I come up with an idea everyone is too busy and sadly can't make it. His sisters birthday party is this weekend, and we of course are expected to go. I don't want to because my birthday is approaching quickly and I remember my "party" last year. No one came. His Mom and Dad showed up but to be honest I was living with them at the time so they were kind of already there. No one else came or got me a gift or hell even a card. I had driven 5 hours to spend my birthday up here and there was nothing. I cried for most of my 23rd birthday. But anyway I have gone to everyone else's parties and brought gifts and smiled and appeared happy, but I know this will not be the case for my birthday. Maybe his parents will call this year. I know that I am whining, and maybe I seem like a spoiled little child. But this blog is only serving the purpose of letting people know why I have dropped off the planet for a little while. I have gone into my cave. I am reflecting and trying to get myself out of this foul mood. I stare at the ceiling watching the snowflakes change into blurry tears. I am just blue and I hope to be back to my cynical bitchy self soon.

Socialization of youth

2006-01-05T19:57:00.000-08:00

When my hubby and I discuss having children it is in a casual, someday, sort of way. We never commit to a time line or actually planning the birth of our child. I believe that this in part has to do with how we believe a child should be raised. Now I am not saying I am right, ok let me quit lying of course I think I am right, but this is just my theory based on evidence and education. There is no particular reason I am writing this blog. There is no babies in my immediate future. I have just come across many adult who were obviously not taught the proper home training. So I am going to tell you how to raise a productive member of society and not an asshole.
To start you MUST tell your children "no". It is important that they learn that they can not have everything they want. Now some parents may think that they are giving their children the ideal childhood by spoiling them with little plastic men and cake. But the truth is that the parents are only committing a major injustice on the children. They are socializing them to believe that they can have whatever they want without working for it. They then unleash this spoiled Veroca Salt out on to the world where other people are forced to put up with their temper tantrums every time they don't get exactly what they want. The children then are dumb founded that everyone is not appeasing them and kissing their ass. These children are incapable of having a true adult life because most times they are unable to take responsibility for their own actions.
every time a serial killer is talked about in the news they say that he had a hard childhood. You know why spoiled children are never serial killers because they can't get away with the first murder! Now I am not condoning murder, but if your going to do it atleast take down as many people as possible. You will get the needle if you kill one person so why not kill twenty and make it worth your while. Anyway, they only kill one person and they confess just about every time. Why? Because Mommy and Daddy will fix it. In their spoiled minds they believe that they are above the laws that the rest of us have to follow. Their parents have taught them that they are extremely "special" and that they can say and do whatever they want.
So you see parents by buying your children the latest melon shaped Pikoshoo crapped out of Japan you are not making them happy, you are making them crazy. Then it is the rest of society who falls victim to your child. If they aren't killing us at the very least they are screaming and ruining our movie. So stop over indulging them and get a back bone. The best childhoods are ones forged in love and the word NO.

Lazy Days

2006-01-04T10:19:00.000-08:00

I have spent the last two days playing video games and watching tv. I have yet to find the motivation to clean up or even get up for that matter. I think that everyone needs these days. It is time to just shut down, a brief moment where your worries melt away and the only thing stopping you is the army of dead people on the screen. Crow likes to tease me because while I love to learn and reinvent what I know to be true I can also find entertainment in gossip magazines and 30 minute long sitcoms. He says that I am a contradiction. I suppose he is right. I just prefer to look at it as me getting to know my foes. I can't very well heard that cattle if I don't know what they like. Besides it helps refresh me to take time away from deep thought and depressing notions and just plug into the tv for awhile. I can live in my head if people would let me. I constantly have conversations with people. I guess you could say my yoda is the people in my head. I bounce ideas off them and seek solace when needed. This can become tricky at times because I will forget that I talked to me head's version of Clementine and not the actual one, so when we are on the phone and I attempt to continue the conversation I left with a long silence and then the familiar conversation.
Me " So I think you were right about what you said."
Clem "Which time?"
Me "When you told me I should tell off my boss. Well, I did it and I think he found respect for me after that"
Clem "I never said that"
Me "Yes, you did we had like a two hour conversation about it"
Clem "No, I think I would remember that."
Suddenly I realizes that I have made a mistake. It was my version of Clem in my head that gave me such stellar advice. I then proceed to change subject quickly.
So you can see if I don't shut down from time to time I might go insane. Truly be one of those short pants wearing people looked away from the world. Now I think that writing this constitutes something productive and I must counter act it with 2 hours of tv.

Happy 2006

2006-01-01T19:15:00.000-08:00

I rang in the new year just as I wanted to, in bed. This decision made sense two fold. The first being that I had to work the next morning, and the second being in regards to the old wives tale. You all know it. The one that says that where you are at midnight is how your new year will be. Well, being in bed meant to me Peace. It meant that in 2006 there will be less barriers to overcome and I might find just a pinch of peace. It also meant that maybe my dreams will begin to take form since they were dancing in my head when the ball dropped. I was laying next to my hubby, so I guess that means he will be by my side in 2006. Now maybe I am just viewing my celebration from a cotton candy cloud, but at least I made and "informed" and conscious tradition. I know it sneaky to attempt to fool karma and old wives tales everywhere by changing the rules slightly in my favor. But as far as I can tell it is not written in stone anywhere so I can adapt my own meaning of the situation. Besides the rest of the cattle were huddled around their televisions as the ball dropped and lord knows I don't want to fall any humanoid norms.
So, to all of you I hope this new year brings light into the darkness. I hope it brings love into the cold. I hope it brings friends, family, laughter and memories. I hope it makes the path of most resistance worth your while. But most of all I hope it brings to you the most marvelous gift, you in all your glory.
Kisses.

The cat and dog are out of the bag

2005-12-30T20:09:00.000-08:00

Today has been a day full of turmoil and stress. It all started with a load of laundry and will end with me ripping my hair out. Early this morning I rose to walk my dogs Shoki and Deimos. I fed all my pets even Skynyrd's, my cat, bowl was empty. I knew that I had to work that evening so I placed my clothes in my washing machine. I went about my day, then Deimos who is still a puppy had an accident on my hardwood floors, and I had to go get the mop out of the laundry room. As I stepped outside, horror awaited. My laundry room had water pouring out of it and flooding my carport. I screamed and open the door quickly. Apparently what happened was my laundry machine drain had become clogged, thus forcing the sink in that room to overflow and not empty. I still am not completely sure how this happened, but that's what they say. So I call my husband and tell him what is going on. He tells me to call his Dad. He is in bed and offers no assistance. So I call Crow back and he tells me to call our landlord. I did and he says he is on his way while I am walking up to the store to buy drain cleaner. He is pulling up before I can hide my dog and cat. You see we had permission to have one Dog, Shoki. Well, when we moved in we snuck in our kitty Skynyrd and recently we just added Deimos to our family. I feel that I should tell you I love my animals like children. I am very protective and defensive about them. So he enters and asks how many pets we have. I tell him three. Right away he tells me that two have to get out. I just stare at him like he is insane and don't answer. Well, we fix the sink (though I think it is only temporary) and again he tells me I have to get rid of two of my animals because I only had his "permission" to have one. I looked him dead in the eyes and said "No, I can tell you right now that I wont get rid of my animals." He then scolds me for sneaking in my pets, but informs me that we will have to pay for any damages that they do. He then points out some scratches in the cabinets that are clearly from 1932 and says my dogs did that. I told him that no they didn't. He ends the conversation with "You will pay for what I say you will pay for and you wont argue." I replied simply "maybe" and he left.
Now I know that I have probably bored you, but this has been eating me up inside all day. I was terrible today at work and when I got home I was in an awful mood. So now that I have put my day out into the world maybe I can move on and enjoy the rest of my night. Thanks for listening, and don't worry Skynyrd, Shoki, and Deimos wont be going anywhere.

This is so TRUE, freaky

2005-12-29T21:18:00.000-08:00

Your Birthdate: February 9

You are a born idealist, with more pet causes than you can count.You prefer be around others, both when working and while relaxing.Generous and giving, you believe you can change the world one person at a time.You're open minded and tolerant. People feel like they can tell you anything.
Your strength: Your go-with-the-flow flexibility
Your weakness: Your flair for the over dramatic
Your power color: Pine green
Your power symbol: Circle
Your power month: September

What Does Your Birth Date Mean?

Maybe

2005-12-29T21:15:00.000-08:00

Your Personality Profile

You are elegant, withdrawn, and brilliant.Your mind is a weapon, able to solve any puzzle.You are also great at poking holes in arguments and common beliefs.
For you, comfort and calm are very important.You tend to thrive on your own and shrug off most affection.You prefer to protect your emotions and stay strong.

The World's Shortest Personality Test

Don't think so

2005-12-29T21:13:00.000-08:00

In a Past Life...

You Were: A Greasy Herbalist.
Where You Lived: Burma.
How You Died: Suicide.

Who Were You In a Past Life?

I told you..

2005-12-29T21:08:00.000-08:00

You Are 80% Boyish and 20% Girlish

You have a tough exterior - and usually a tough interior to match it.You're no nonsense, logical, and very assertive.Sometimes you can't understand women at all, even if you're a woman yourself.You see things rationally, and don't like to let your emotions get the best of you.

How Boyish or Girlish Are You?

Sure

2005-12-29T20:54:00.000-08:00

Your Personality Is

Guardian (SJ)
You are sensible, down to earth, and goal oriented.Bottom line, you are good at playing by the rules.
You tend to be dominant - and you are a natural leader.You are interested in rules and order. Morals are important to you.
A hard worker, you give your all at whatever you do.You're very serious, and people often tell you to lighten up.
In love, you tend to take things carefully and slowly.
At work, you are suited to almost any career - but you excel in leadership positions.
With others, you tend to be polite and formal.
As far as looks go, you are traditionally attractive. You take good care of yourself.
On weekends, you tend to like to do organized activities. In fact, you often organize them!

The Three Question Personality Test

I concur

2005-12-29T20:53:00.000-08:00

Your Hidden Talent

You have the natural talent of rocking the boat, thwarting the system.And while this may not seem big, it can be.It's people like you who serve as the catalysts to major cultural changes.You're just a bit behind the scenes, so no one really notices.

What's" Your Hidden Talent?

Odds and Ends

2005-12-29T20:33:00.000-08:00

If I happen to have faithful readers I apologize for not writing recently. I have been spending quality time with the family. I of course spent Christmas with them, and I had a wonderful time. My happiest moments in life are when my entire family is together and peaceful. Then my parents came up for a visit. We went to see the tow truck museum. It was a little boring for me, but my Dad really wanted to go, so we made a day out of it. I also got some new stuff because when I talk to my parents on the phone I never allude to the fact that money is tight and that we are going without on something, but when they come to visit they notice and get them for me. This time they bought me curtains for my livingroom and a space heater. YAY!
Back to Christmas. I got a mixture of lovely things to feed my vanity and useful things to feed my empty house. One thing that I should mention is Ty. When he called my brother to wish him a Merry Christmas, he asked to speak to me. He won MAJOR brownie points for that. I saw this as an act of acknowledging me as someone separate from Lou (usually the boys just assume talking to him and telling him to relay messages is the same as talking to me, this annoys me) I also saw this as a move toward our own friendship. So Ty the scorecard is starting to stack in your favor.
Crow has been sick for what seems like forever. He keeps wanting to call out of work, but I wont let him. We need the cash, and he understands that. All else is well. I am still sick of my job, sick of people and over all sick of Tenn. But hey what's a girl to do? So folks I believe I have caught you up. I need to get some sleep, but while I slumber I will be thinking of my next blog.

Rantings of a pissed off waitress

2005-12-22T21:14:00.000-08:00

Ok, to all of you cheap asses out there, LEARN TO TIP. I thought with Christmas coming and it being the time to give I would be making bank this time of year. I was wrong if anything I am actually making less money. Are you aware that as a server I make $2.13 an hour?? If you don't tip me I might just starve to death. My job is not glamorous and I have no intention of being a lifer I am just doing time. But until I get my degree and start getting paid for being the opinionated little bitch I am, I must work like a whore for your money. I will bend over and let you shove your rudeness right up my ass if it means you will give me five dollars. I am a whore, just a food whore. I would also like to tell you that SURPRISE I don't cook your food, so if your steak is not how you ordered it, it's not my fault. I also do not wash the dishes, and can not be held responsible if there is dried egg on your fork. I am just so sick of my job, and you the public who make my life hell while I am there. It takes every ounce of my being not to slice your throat with a butter knife when you call me stupid because some part of your order is messed up. Stupid? Me? Bitch I have a 4.0 in college and you, judging from the dirt under your nails, probably can't spell college. If I wasn't afraid of some insane felony charge I would spit in your food. Also if you are a dirty old man, it is NOT ok for you to flirt with me. My skin crawls and a little bit of vomit creeps up in my throat every time you call me "baby". I am not the one in a depends diaper so calling me baby is just disgusting. People with children: Stay home!! Why do you bring your snot nosed screaming child out in public? If they have no home training then keep them at home and deal with them. And I am so sorry that you find it offensive that I don't coo at your spawn while it plasters it's food into the floor that I know I have to sweep. You should also know that the sugar caddy is NOT a toy. I hate it when you let this little disgusting creature play with it then you have the audacity to leave all the sugar packs out on the table. Then you leave me a dollar, which isn't even enough to have me pick up after your offspring. To all you gay men out there, keep on coming in I love your dual expendable incomes and high tips. Granted I usually have to give you relationship advice, but it is worth the ten dollars you leave me on an eight dollar check. So the moral of this story is, if you don't know how to behave in public stay home, and if you must come out pay me for my trouble. Or I might just someday come to your job sit down at your desk and dump splenda all over your paperwork.

I'm a man, well kinda

2005-12-21T20:22:00.000-08:00

I have always been told in one way or another that I am masculine. It began as a child when the neighborhood kids would call me a Tom Boy. Then continued through out the years. In my first college class ever I had one of the coolest professors to date. His name was Doctor Dan. He amazed me by welcoming confrontation to his class and I amazed him by bringing it. One day while the entire class is discussing proper edict for the sexes he makes a comment about women being more passive and less likely to speak up in class. Before I could open my mouth to rebuttal he says "of course Shiela doesn't fall into that category in any way. No offense." And none was taken, in actuality I was proud of myself at the moment. I had become a social force rather then a product. I was ecstatic.
I tell you this to explain my point of view on the next subject. House work. Now traditionally women cook and clean. Men are catered to and essentially "raised" along with the children. This drives me crazy. I refuse to believe that a man is above pushing a mop around the floor. This is a point of constant tention between myself and my hubby Crow. We love each other deeply and are, for the most part, content with our lives. But I am constantly irked by his lack of will to clean. If I leave for a couple of days I know when I get home dishes are waiting and laundry needs to be done. Since my gender identity is more masculine I end up yelling and bitching at him. But it isn't his fault he just was raised to believe in classic gender roles and then somewhere along the lines he fucked up and married me. hehe. So what's a girl, who acts like a boy, to do? I'll tell you. Keep cleaning the house and bitching to her brother because I have a pretty good thing going here and I shouldn't let myself lose it just because I have to clean the house. Now if you will excuse me I must pretend that I am a woman and I know how to fold the clothes. By the way does anyone know if you are supposed to fold underwear or not??

Surviving the In laws

2005-12-20T19:15:00.000-08:00

Ok folks. We all have or someday will have in-laws. These are nasty little creatures hell bent on destroying you and saving their "precious". Now most in-laws will smile in your face only to gut you from the back when you turn around. They will invite you to family functions only to see how far the can get you to your breaking point before you explode. Then they get to play victim. If you can't tell already I hate people who play the victim, because the role is so grossly over used. But back to the in-laws. This is your survival guide. I suggest that you print it out and laminate it to refer to when the situation arises.
First always remain polite and quite. You are the stranger in their jungle; they own you. Avoid conflict. This may sound like you are giving in and letting them win. This is not the case. You are just buying time until your significant other receives inheritance. Therefore it is ok to just let it go. Unless they cross some unforgivable line. Then throw caution to the wind and kiss your money goodbye because at this point you have to let them have it.
Second Always have wine with you and on your person. Why you ask? Because in order to fulfill the first rule you have to be at least tipsy. (This is also a great scape goat for when you do blow up because you can claim that you were drunk and didn't mean it.) Now it has to be wine. If you walk around with a glass of wine you look like a socialite or sophisticated even. If you walk around doing shots of Black Velvet you just look like an alcoholic. And family members never pass down their money to the alcoholics. It's something to do with drinking away the family fortune.
Finally always time your get togethers to be NO longer then 2 hours. This gives you time to get a good buzz and keeps you from getting completely plastered. It is also the right amount of time to make sure that everyone at the event sees you at least twice. Now you may break the two hour rule and stay longer only when someone else has not left the party first. You never want to leave the party first this gives the entire family time to talk about you and conspire against you. But if you must absolutely leave the party first fake an illness or claim that you have to go to work early the next morning.
Well, folks that is my wisdom for today. Adhere to it, even practice it a few time when you are alone a room. And for god's sake please remember to carry a big purse because there is no way 2 bottles of wine will fit in your pocket.

Johnny can't read I can't spell

2005-12-20T19:08:00.000-08:00

If you read my blog you should be able to tell two things. First I am one smart cookie, and two I can't spell cookie. hehe. It is my one curse in this world. I am extremely grateful to Mircrosoft word though. That little paper clip man lives in my head because I can be so far from the word and he still knows what I was trying to say. It scares me sometimes. I have tried to improve my ability to spell, but I have found my brain just doesn't retain it. Which is why when I write a paper for school I get it done about two weeks before the due date, just so I can re-read it a billion times correcting my grammar. I feel stupid and self conscious about it when I am in school, but here we are all friends right? And if you can't get past my ONE little flaw well then fuck you. We are all human and we all have an Achilles heal. So I beg you just read the message and take with it what you will.

If you're not even in the race please leave the arena

2005-12-19T17:51:00.000-08:00

Lately I have seen this recurring theme in my life. People who aren't even competing are attempting to sabotage the race. Clemetentine knows what I am talking about. So now I am going to write a letter to these people (and you all know who you are)

Dear Social Leper,

You are driving down the stock in the human population. You irk everyone with your petty ways and snide remarks. You are barking up the wrong trees! I (and when I say "I" I am speaking for the entire world.) am tired of you creeping around in the shadows trying to ruin what good things people have going for them. Rather then trying to suck out the pleasures of someone else's world go find your own. Your Woo is Me song and dance is getting old quick. You play it almost as often as the radio station plays Brittany. And for the sake of human survival both must stop immediately.
Now I know that it is hard for you to stop playing the victim, because you have done it for sooo long. But the thing about being a victim you fail to realize is that you wont be saved by someone else every time. At some point in your life you will find yourself all alone and defenseless with no one to blame, and when you reach that point you will see just how horrible you truly are. Let people have their happiness even if it contradicts your pursuit because it's not all about you. We all have to live hear and you are just draining the life force out of us all.
Also, quit barking and steeping up if you have no actual intention of doing anything. When people try to step up and act all big and bad, I WILL get back in your face. I guess you can consider this your formal warning. Have a nice life and please stay away from me.
Sincerely,
Fed Up

Ok, so I had to get that off my chest. This entire week was full of people trying to push me around and failing. I am tired now, and I have said my peace so I am going to bed. But tune in tomorrow when I tell people the secret to surviving a Christmas cookie exchange with the winless. Hint: You will need a really big purse!

My Memory of my 15th Year

2005-12-13T07:39:00.000-08:00

Ok, so Clementine already told you that when I was 15, he tried to kill me and himself. That is true, but when I look back at that time in my life I rarely see that image. There is two more prominent images that stand out in my mind. Both involve Clementine and both were the beginning of a new era.
I defeated self doubt and accomplished something I never though I could because of Clementine. I ran a mile. I know this is probably not the most impressive thing to most, but to me it was nothing short of a miracle. My mom had asked us to go to the store to and get some bread. All the children went even my other brother. Well, when we were getting ready Clemenitine told us that we were going to jog to the front of Winslow. I was excited and terrified all at the same time. We stretched and then Clementine start jogging with me and my brother right beside him. My other brother dropped out pretty quickly, I don't believe it was because he couldn't do it like he said I believe he got embarrassed about jogging in the neighborhood. I think Clementine knew that too, so he didn't give him a hard time he just said that we would meet him at the end. So now it was just me and Clementine. When I began to show signs that I might give up Clementine would quickly give me words of encouragement. He kept saying "You can do this. I know you can do this." He believed in me and I thought to myself if he could believe in me maybe I should believe in myself. So I started singing "wonder" by Natatlie Merchant. I sang it all the way to the end of the neighborhood with Clementine. He would only stop singing to give me words of encouragement or to tell me a car was coming. Towards the end I was so tired and had slowed down quite a bit, but Clementine (who could obviously run a lot faster) remained right beside me. That day that I ran a mile I learned a lot about myself and a lot about Clementine. I learned that if I don't give up and if I at least make it to the end then I might just amaze myself. I also learned that Clementine was going to stay beside me and help me believe in myself no matter what.
The second defining moment was my military ball. I had never gotten dressed up before and my Mom had taken me to the mall and helped me pick out this beautiful blue dress at JC Pennys. When she did my hair and I got dressed I felt like a fish out of water. I wasn't sure that I looked nice, but then Clementine saw me. He told me I looked beautiful and said I looked like a movie star. Mom took a picture of us together on the back porch. He was still in his work uniform, but none the less I was all too happy to take a picture with him. I have always thought of my brother as one of the "pretty people" and by doing what he did that day I let my self consciousness go and had a blast at the ball.
I have a lot to thank Clementine for, but these are two of the many memories that I want to share with the world. I think that by writing them and placing them here I have somehow frozen them in time. And if I bore you by using this blog to sometimes pay respect to my brother well, I am sorry. But I think now more then ever before it is important for me to make clear just how much he has done for me and just how much I really love him.

Why do I need a disclaimer?

2005-12-12T18:58:00.000-08:00

Through out my life both of my brothers have made friends that I never met. I would listen as they tell stories about these great people, or not so great people depending on the story. Well, if my brothers decide that this person is cool and worth having around in their life, I am then allowed to meet them. It always plays pretty much in the same way.
Me: "So I am meeting John Doe today. Will I like them?"
Brother (really this could be either one): "I think you will. I REALLY like them. I have told them so much about you and they wanted to meet you. "
Me: "Huh? They do realize that I am a demi God and that they will either worship me or be smoted right? "
Brother: "I told them you can be a bitch. But I really like them. "
(This is the point when the send me some pathetic plea they both say the same thing
Brother: "Shiela be nice."

Be nice?? It's not like I walk around eating baby fetuses and barbecuing puppy dogs. Why I ask you do I need a disclaimer? I feel like I should have a parental advisory label, and if Tipper had her way I would be forced to have it tattooed to my forehead, but that is a different subject. The truth is I always play nice. I let the little things slide and I smile. But one certain occasions my brother will put forth a lamb and I am but a lion. The will parade in front of me the stupidest person they could find. I think that maybe these people aren't actually there friends, but it is a set up and they are just taping it for a reality show to air years from now. It's title will be "Over protective sister gone wild" Everything you like about girls gone wild except the boobs aren't on her chest they are trying to talk to her.
I think it will catch on. Anyway I am left feeling guilty and evil because there is only so much infantile things I can take before I snap. And when I snap it is more like Chernobyl then just a rant. I quickly spring up on my soap box (I carry it in my pocket and never leave home without it because you never know when the self righteous mood will strike and I will need it) I twirl around three times like wonder woman then I will become Soap Box Girl. Now everyone else calls me "bitch" but I prefer my name for obvious reasons. When I transform I am not in control of my body, the enigma of being right has taken over. I will begin inhaling this poor person who will be on the verge of tears before I am done with them. I will look over at my brother who always has the same look, the one that says "fuck, I knew she was going to do this." Most of the time that is the end of their friendship because regardless if I was out of line if these outsiders try to say anything negative about me my bros got my back.
So you see I can't help it if I am an unelected super hero, but someone has to clean up the streets and put stupid people where they belong (the swamp to help with the inbreeding process) But in the end I am "nice" and I blame it all on my brothers for not doing a thorough background check before displaying these intelligence terrorist in front of me.

It's beginning to feel like I am poor

2005-12-10T19:07:00.000-08:00

I finished my Christmas shopping today. Spent more then I should have but I love to give. I thought Crow was going to be pissed but he was actually really cool about it. Wow, just when I think I have his number he surprises me. Everyone had better like what I got them or I will scream. I am so tired and must rise early tomorrow. I am sorry this is so short, but I will blog again tomorrow.

Where is Clementine?

2005-12-08T17:48:00.000-08:00

Ok so Clementine is on a date and I don't want to disturb him. Have fun boy, just not to much fun. LOL.
I have been talking to him in my head about something horrible I did today. You see my hubby has been married before to a cratarzy whore and I have to deal with her. He has a child with her and so they talk regularly. Now I know you aren't supposed to hate, but I HATE her. She is the embodiment of everything weak and disgusting that I absolutely detest.. I will tell you that story later. Anyway I was sitting on the couch and my hubby was in bed as usual and his phone rang. I saw it was her and ignored her. She left a message saying that she really needed to talk to him. Pick up the kid or something. She then called back twice in a row. I didn't pick up, because I have nothing civil to say to the woman. I didn't wake Kevin and I deleted the messages. OOPS I thought 9 was to save.
So now I am sitting on the floor talk to Clementine in my head. He has both of his personalities this time so I have feed back from two people. Louis told me to come clean and said that it was wrong. He said she has nothing up on me so I need not even worry about her. So basically Louis was being sane. I noted his input then turned to Lou. Lou said fuck that bitch she gets paid so she should take care of her own offspring. He then told me not to worry about her, but that what I did was right. "Shit girl I would have kicked her teeth in a long time ago. You want me to. I'll cut a bitch you know that" Lou said. Louis scoffed and tried to reason. But I think this time me and Lou were on the right page. We ended up excusing ourselves and talking in another room because Louis, who is sane at this moment, is looking at us with judgmental eyes. And we hate when he does that. So me and Lou talked about how great will be when she dies, because I am quite a bit younger and will live longer. We decided to dance on her grave, and then Lou said he was going to spit on her casket in front of God and everybody. That's Lou the serial spitter.
Damn I really should stop talking in my head this shit is starting to seem real to me. Anyway hope your having FUN and taking it slow. But I am going to be honest I am starting to get excited about your new healthy oriental food diet.

My Childhood Nostalgia

2005-12-08T17:23:00.000-08:00

I am a huge care bear fan. I know that I am to old for it, well that's what they all say any who. I wanted this on my blog! And remember everyone needs a friend who cares.

New Age Feminist

2005-12-08T12:22:00.000-08:00

I usually piss women off and they call me a traitor. This is because I am a true feminist in a time when feminism isn't as popular. My mothers generation fought long battles and burning bras to achieve many goals. They are my heroes because they stepped up in a man's world and showed them through the looking glass the inequality and injustice purged upon them. So thanks girls. But in today's modern world, feminism like everything else has changed. To be feminist now means to be self sufficient and not relying on a man for ANYTHING. A lot of times it seems that you are apathetic to your sister plight, but the truth is we just expect more from women. If you are feminist today, when it is no longer trendy, you are a warrior with some huge ass balls because you have refused your pacifier and consciously place your self on the path of most resistance.
One issue that most women detest my point of view on is child support. Now if I offend you oh well the truth is the truth and even if it hurts I promise you I will always tell it. To all of you women on child support I spit on you. You are worthless and weak. It is your fault!!
Now I am going to bombard you with logic. I know your skin is already crawling. First, while it "takes two to make a baby" It takes ONE to have the baby. I am prochoice and I believe that you should not have children if you have nothing to offer them. Women can have an abortion or go through an adoption agency without ever contacting the father. They have a choice on whether or not to become a parent. Men don't and that's just not fair. Your body is your responsibility and since we now know that it is sperm meeting an egg that causes children, not storks or gifts from God, ladies it is your responsibility to ensure that your egg isn't infiltrated. It is your body and quite frankly if men convince you that unprotected sex is alright then you are stupid. Getting pregnant is the least of your worries there is STDS out the ass in this world and you could catch them. So if you buy the "I love you it's alright nothing will happen argument" then kill yourself and get out of the gene pool. You certainly don't need to be breeding.
Ok so you were stupid and didn't adhere to my advice on self euthanasia now what do you do. Well, most women head to court and get their pay check. There is so many problems with this. First of all in many states failure to pay child support is felony and they will send that father to jail under the "dead beat parent act" signed by Clinton. While in jail they obviously can't pay the support but not to worry there total will keep racking up while they are away and when they get out they can get a job and pay it. Because we all know how is easy it is to get a job with a felony on your record. And if you don't pay you go back to jail and thus the revolving door begins. Our forefathers took in criminals from England to build the colonies in what is today Georgia. These people were not rapist or killers they were what the English call debtors. Because they couldn't pay back the bank or other loans they were incarcerated. Our forefathers thought "well that's shitty John of Yorkshire is a good guy and he wanted to pay he just lost his job. How can we deal with this?? I know we will make it illegal to lock up anyone who is unable to pay their bills" But our forefathers are scoffing at us today because you can purchase a big screen TV kick in the front of it and all that can happen is it repoed and it goes on your credit. Hmm that's idea repossesing children. I will have to look into that.
Next child support is a blatant slap in the face. If you can't see that then get your head out of your ass and look around. In America women receive custodial child custody in about 84% of cases. They throw out the maternal bond card and Wham the men are told sorry but a queen trumps 4 kings in this court. Now I am not saying that women are evil for playing this card after all I am sure that they may believe their bond is more important then the fathers, but by doing this they hurt themselves in the career world. If women can say that because of their sex they are naturally the better parent and can handle the children better then it can be said that men are naturally better in the work force and that is why women aren't paid the same (the receive on average about 18% less then a man with the same qualifications and job). See girls you want your cake but you want to eat it too. And it just doesn't work that way. So while you are content popping out children and collecting the money from the baby daddy every month you are fucking with my world. I don't want to have to rely on a man to support my children, and I will be damned if I ever do. I have made sure that Crow knows that if at any time this marriage goes south, with or without children, I would not expect money from him because I will do whatever it takes to take care of me and mines. And I can say that for a fact because even though it hasn't occurred I know the kind of person I want to be and I would lose all respect for myself if I accepted it.
So to all of you women riding the baby bill gravy train it is time to get off. Because while you are content with your silence being bought I am not. I want to ask the important questions like: Why can't I make enough money to support myself and my family without the help of a man? Why do the men get taken more seriously in the work world? Why is man's brain valued of beauty but as a woman it is reversed?
I have million questions to ask, but I can't. Not until my weaker sisters refuse their little pacifier cake and demands equality. And when they finaly realizes that I am right on this in about 200 years I will be up in heaven mooning everyone saying "I told you fuckers I was right. Call me traitor again."

Beware of the Butt Monster

2005-12-07T20:23:00.000-08:00

Ok, lately I have been in sort of a funk. I thought it over and I still have no clue why. But in case there is actually someone reading this I thought I should lighten the mood.
I was driving home and as I stopped at the red light I looked up at a billboard. It was all black with only white writing on it that said "Don't let colon cancer sneak up on you". Now normal people would see this and think Hmm maybe I should get checked out. I am not normal. I begin to laugh hysterically out loud. I am the only one in the car so the car next to me probably thought I was cratarzy. You are probably thinking that cancer is a serious thing and it was wrong of me to laugh. Yes, cancer is serious but the image that popped into my head wasn't. I imagined this huge anus (known affectionate as the Butt Monster) creeping out of the closet and attacking unexpecting prey as they sleep. Then I thought this would be a good story to tell children about how the Butt Monster sneaks up on you armed with colon cancer and the only way to ward him off is obey your parents. I think I will start the children book tomorrow. So folks remember to check behind every door, in all the dark places, lock your house up real tight and please, please wear pajamas because you never know when the Butt Monster might sneak up on you with colon cancer.

The Ugly Swan

2005-12-05T21:21:00.000-08:00

Today I was having lunch with my friend Daze and another girl she knows which I will refer to as Ant (Since she just regurgitates classic society norms) I am biting into a biscuit and she looks at me and says "Have you ever thought about getting braces" I think I should take a moment to tell you that I have healthy teeth. I have never had a cavity and aside from the slight yellow from smoking they are in mint condition. But I do have a small jaw line and my two front teeth are large. When I was younger I had 8 permanent teeth removed, a space bar put in, and a gum surgery. It was hell. They did all this in the hopes that my mouth would grow into my teeth and I would have a "beautiful smile" It didn't work. Well I had been tormented for years by my peers calling me a beaver or chick monk. When I was in high school I decided to get braces. They told me that my teeth are straight they are just large and to fix my over bite they would have to chizzle and file my teeth down and then put on a cap to protect the raw nerve. Oh did I mention this would be really painful and that there was a possibility that they would real fuck up my teeth? So I decided that I had to learn to love my smile over bite and all.
You see when she said that the insecure little girl that I carry in me came flooding back. I quickly closed my mouth real tight (something I had learned to do as a child because if they can't see your teeth they can't say anything about them) I guess it is my fault because I have refused to let go of that little girl and so she pops up from time to time.
Now is the moment for the truth. I have always been self-conscious. I don't leave the house without make up and if I do I am extremely uneasy. I am not a beautiful girl. I battle with my weight (I eat when I am depressed) When I was younger I wouldn't eat for days. People would always tell me how skinny I was and that validated me. But the truth is I wasn't any happier then I am today, in some ways I was worse off. I would wake up and think "Wow today I am skinny and I wouldn't eat that day because I was afraid of losing my 'skinny day'" If the hunger pain got to much I would eat a small portion then run up to my room and lock the door. Once inside I would exercise till exhaustion attempting to purge myself of the calories. I felt like I was weak when I ate. But everyone told me I was skinny and beautiful so it seemed worth it.
Then I began to get really depressed because I could never be skinny or pretty enough so I would go down stairs into the garage open up my father’s tools and grab a razor blade. I would cut myself. I hated myself and had become numb the only thing that reminded me I was alive was the sight of my own blood. I had to wear elbow length gloves to my prom because the night before I had cut ten straight lines into each of my arms. All because I didn’t have a date. I remember after I did I would feel calm and I would crawl into bed and wrap towels around my wounds. Then I would pray that none of them were deep enough to kill me. I didn't want to die I just needed a release and the razor gave it to me.
When people would see cuts and ask about them I would say a cat did it. I am not sure if they bought it because it was a plausible explanation or because it was easier to deal with then the truth. I remember the first time I told anyone the truth it was Clementine. We were sitting in an IHOP and my sleeve moved and he saw one. I couldn't lie to him I had to tell the truth. The look in his eyes hurt more then any razor blade. He lost it and began to sob right there. Which made me cry. People must have thought we were insane. He begged me not to hurt myself ever again. He told me to come to him whenever life got to rough. I haven't cut myself since that day but the razor has beckoned. I usually sit there holding it for hours fighting myself with the memory of Clementine's plea and the memory of the feeling of release. I can't say one hundred percent that I will never do it again because the urge is still in me, but I can say that I have won every battle thus far and I hope to win the rest.
I am not looking for sympathy. I just felt that you deserved to know the whole truth. So that you would understand that the fact that I am alive today attest to my beauty because I lived through so much ugly. And I hope you understand that if I have the choice I will keep the smile I got because it was hard to find.

Yep all the stars are flicking me off

2005-12-04T18:46:00.000-08:00

I know I fucked up my Sociology paper. I hate when you know it is to late to save yourself. It is kind of like drowning when you finaly reach muscle failure and accept that in a minute you will never breathe again. I have been self loathing as of late. I have been carrying the entire world around in my pocket and it is beginning to become heavy. I am worried about Clementine now that old ghost have come back to haunt. Do you ever see something and think HUH? Probably not a good idea. That is how I see the old ghost. Sometimes he should just let the past die and be buried if he wants a future. But that is just one more thing I can't control right now. I wonder how the planets are aligned. Probably in the "Screw Huck" formation. My period has to be coming on soon because I just feel like crawling up in the fetal position and ignoring the world. Well, I should get going I have more drowning to do.

Tie a red ribbon around the old oak tree

2005-12-01T19:58:00.000-08:00

Today was world awareness day for HIV and Aids. I didn't attend a march because I couldn't find one and I had to work. But I felt that this day could not pass without me doing SOMETHING. After all if I did nothing I am sure Clementine would have demoted me to a one star general. So it was about 2 AM this morning when I realized that I didn't even have a single piece of red ribbon in my house. I rushed to Walmart with a quickness and bought some. As I was checking out I told the cashier about the day and what it meant to me. Then I gave her a red ribbon. My day of converting people away from apathy began then. I stayed up cutting little red ribbons and sticking pins in them.
When I got to work today everyone had a strange look on their face. I wore 4 small ribbons on my apron (Three were for each person I have ever met who was positive, the fourth was for the millions I haven't met, but still hold dear in my heart. Finally I had a big red ribbon woven into my hair just for Clementine. Then I pulled out my ziplock bag full of last nights project. I began handing them out to every coworker. The scene ran like this:
ME "Would you like a red ribbon?"
Coworker "Is it free?"
ME "Yes"
Coworker "What is is for"
ME "Well, today is world awareness day for HIV and Aids, by wearing it you are acknowledging that there is 40 million people in this world living with the disease, and you care."
Coworker "Wow that many?"
Me "Yes, and the number keeps growing, here is your ribbon."
I would leave them a bit dumb founded, but hey the truth is hard to swallow. Through out the night random coworkers would approach with questions about the virus and I would answer. The most common one was could they get it from touching someone. I would tell them the facts and most were surprised to know that you couldn't get it from spit. And this is how I spent the day. So Clementine, did I make you proud? Do I get to keep both of my stars?

Christmas, Cleavage, and Whine

2005-11-30T18:35:00.000-08:00

These last two days have been insane. Yesterday we had our Christmas party at work. I got all done up. (Having two gay brothers teaches you not to go out in public looking like who done it) I curled my hair and pulled it up. Then I wore my super sexy flowing black shirt. First I feel I need to tell you that the official size of my breast (according to Victoria's Secret) is 36DD. So regardless cleavage is going to flow no matter what I wear. Now it doesn't help that my philosophy is that you are never showing enough cleavage, except if your nipples are showing. Well, my shirt definitely displayed my bounty, but it can't be whore like because I was wearing jeans and not hot pants. The shady faggot was there with his fag hag. He was dressed like a dollar store pimp in his potato sack jacket and hat. His fag hag was also showing cleavage, but hers came from her protruding side fat and not her breast. Why he let her go out in public like this is beyond me, but lets just say he lost fairy points. Anyway they had the audacity to comment about my "revealing clothes". They didn't say it to my face they just kind of muttered it behind my back. My friend Daze (who is sadly just a B cup) told me to cover those things up. Then she felt my breast, which was weird because usually only women that have the mushroom hair feel me up. My hubby Crow looked a little uneasy as this woman was pulling my top up and attempting to push my breast down. I told her loud enough for all to hear that she wasn't going to be able to cover up my flotation devices, but I did appreciate the foe lesbian pat down. Needless to say the shady faggot left soon after that. Then I won a prize a frozen turkey. That's right folks my Christmas gift from the barrel is sticking my hand up a dead birds butt!! You gotta love the holidays.
And onto the whine. Today we had a "servers meeting" which actually means that the management staff complains about us and we bark back at them that they are lazy bottom feeders. Oh yes good times. Today was my day off, but I had to get up at the crack of dawn (8 am) to attend this meeting. I went in guns blazing and ready to have my managers bend over and have the truth shoved right up their asses. Unfortunately they agreed with everything I said! I hate when people give up so easy. I save all this adrenalin to lay down a good ass kicking and they just roll over and reveal their jugular. I am not above still attacking them in their weak moment, all I am saying is it takes the fun out of things.
So this has been my last two days. Buffy and Tuffy are safely placed back in the proper shirt sans cleavage. The shady faggot has returned to smiling in my face, and I have purchased plastic gloves for my Christmas dinners rectal exam. All in all I can say these last two days weren't bad at all.

A look at the other side

2005-11-28T20:58:00.000-08:00

I orginally wrote this for my English class. It was hard because it was the truth, or atleast the truth as I see it. This is my brother Louis:

Sitting Quietly Watching the Pendulum Swing

My oldest brother Louis is great guy. He is the one that taught me to believe in myself and to look at things logically then form an opinion. I owe a lot to him. He has influenced my taste in music, my political preference, and my over all worldview. Louis is creative, funny, witty, daring, and Louis is bipolar.
There are a lot of misconceptions about people that are bipolar because it is considered to be a “mild” form of schizophrenia. Many people are afraid of the word bipolar because they believe that the person is “crazy” and might harm them. My brother Louis doesn’t have all these different people living in his head or hear voices. He has never once during a conversation become a little girl searching for her dolly like some might believe. From my observations of Louis he lives his life a lot like a pendulum swinging back and forth. One moment he is on an up swing happy and smiling. Then quickly without warning he is on a down swing crying and begging to be forgiven for crying. With Louis you have to take the bad with the good, because when things are good there is no one else like him in the world.
I often tell my brother that I see two very distinctive personalities in him. There is Louis a quiet reserved fellow, who you will often find in deep thought. Louis is a pacifist and he always seems to find the silver lining of things. Then there is “Lou”. Lou is cocky and arrogant. Lou looks for a fun time without regard of consequences. Lou lives in the limelight and is the center of attention for everyone around him. Lou is looking for the next big revolution to happen so he can join. To be honest both Louis and Lou have qualities you love about them. Sometimes you want Louis when you want to have one of those “what is the meaning of life” conversations, and sometimes you want Lou to pull you into the limelight with him and make you forget all about your worries. I can honestly say I love accept both personalities of my brother, and I wouldn’t have him any other way.
When it is late at night I am staring at the ceiling because my insomnia has returned I call up my brother and we will become engaged in insane conversation. He will tell me about his life’s adventures and mishaps. Then he will ask my opinion on his latest attempt at love. After the hours roll by Louis will blurt out with true sincerity “baby girl you know you’re the only one who gets me” and silence will follow. We both know that this is because I am the one person in his life that loves him unconditionally. He is twenty-nine and already he has lived many lifetimes. After he being diagnosed HIV positive, being arrested on felony charges, trying to commit suicide three times, and being locked in an insane asylum, my family had enough. I think my family saw each problem as a personal attack on them, when I saw it as a byproduct of his mental disease and remained by his side. I know that there is love between them all, but both Louis and my family need to find a way to heal the rift. It is not my duty to judge either side I just play mediator and the go between in hopes that someday all will be forgiven.
Sometimes when I am alone I cry for Louis. It seems like his life is a constant battle. He believes that all his faults are a necessary evil because the need for him to improve them is what keeps him alive. I am the only one that he can’t use his faults to push away. When he gets going on a down swing he begins to verbally attack people. He will say things that are really hurtful and his words cut through you like a knife. When he goes on this tirade of pain I have to remind myself that this isn’t my brother. I have to remind myself that this is the chemical imbalance of the brain talking. Then calmly I ask him to relax and tell me what is really bothering him. I find that when the down swing comes you have to ignore the harsh words in order to help him get to the real root of the problem.
Louis is a lot like a lab rat when it comes to his mental medication. It seems that he will be on one medication for a while then his doctor will suddenly decide to change it. On certain medications he is zombie like and you can’t get a coherent sentence out of him. One medication actually gave him seizures and while he was shaking he was speaking in tongues. Each time I talk to him he gives me an update on what meds they have him on and how they alter his thinking. I get frustrated sometimes because I don’t feel his doctors are doing anything but trial and error. I feel that when it comes to someone’s well being you had better check out all the facts before you scribble down a prescription and send them on their way. The cocktail that he is currently on seem to work great. He can still think, get out of bed, and lead a productive life without having quite as many mood swings.
Being a family member to someone with bipolar is not easy. You never know if you are going to catch them on up swing or a down swing. It is hard to watch someone you love go on a self-destructive path. I don’t fear he will hurt me because of his disease, I am more afraid of him in a self-loathing rage hurting himself. But I am just a spectator in someone else’s life and I can’t live it for him. My brother Louis is mentally ill, and while his medications help there is no cure. The best I think he can hope for is more good days then bad days. When I decided to write this paper I did so because I wanted to put human emotion into a stereotype of mental disease. I wanted to tell the truth, I wanted you the reader to understand that my brother Louis amazes me. The fact that he wakes up everyday takes his pills and prays to be “normal” is something I am not sure most people could handle. I realize that he has more to overcome then I do because of his mental disease, but I believe he is strong enough to do it. I am going to continue to stand by him and support him even if he is “legally insane” because I know eventually when the dust settles the family rift will be mended, Louis’s mental illness will become easier for him to handle, and the stereotype on mental illness will be lifted.

1 AM yesterday

2005-11-28T18:12:00.000-08:00

I was in bed wide awake attempting to lull myself to sleep by counting the jellyfish on my ceiling. When the weirdest scene from my life kept playing over and over. Sometime ago I was working (and yes I was country fresh) when the shady faggot began to preach to me about the trifling gays he had encountered. I commented something along the lines of "tell me about it both my brothers are gay, so I know a lot about trifling faggots." Then the shady faggot looks me in the eyes and says "knowing gay men DOES NOT make you a gay man" This basically trivial point in my life was playing on the inside of my eyelids, and every time I saw it I got just a little bit madder until I no longer could stand to be in bed. I jumped to my feet and walked with great authority into the livingroom. I am not sure what I thought this would accomplish since no one was up to cleverly instigate in a fight. I considered calling Clementine, but he would be in bed and lord knows that boy needs his beauty sleep. So I decided to sit down and figure out what exactly was pissing me off. So one shady faggot doesn't like me. Hundreds do (and if they don't like me they haven't met me.) I was irate because this little chicken was trying to tell ME that I don't belong in the gay world. Who is he to say that I am not a gay man? I have been on the side of gay rights ever since I was little and read my brother's journal. I helped every gay member of my student body out of closet in high school, and in my short college career I have helped two. I am the one who puts my life in limb on the line when homophobia might turn violent. Don't tell me I am not a gay man just because I have vagina. Heterophobia has got to stop. If you practice it you are as ugly as gay bashers. I belong in any world and culture and I want to be in. Sometimes I am jealous of Clementine because he has that easy in. He hold up his rainbow staff of queerness and everyone takes his point of view as fact. Meanwhile I am just a straight girl with the exact same point of view being told I have no idea what I am talking about. Well, you know what gay world I LOVE YOU! So what if I will never do it doggy style with a gay man while Teddy Ruckspin watches. I still know what it would be like to do it. How you ask? Well, friends it's a thing I call empathy. I didn't have to walk a mile in your shoes if I just walk beside you I will get the gist. So to all you shady faggots I'M STRAIGHT, I'M GREAT GET USED TO IT!! And to the great faggots don't worry Momma will be by later to spank you, you dirty dirty boys!