Nobody's paying me to bitch, so this one's on the house

“Do you ever wonder how someone could even like you?” – Knocked Up

I wonder this all. the. time.  Well, half the time.  See, half the time I’m convinced I’m awesome and wonder how anyone could not like me.  I don’t recall if it was Mini-Bottom or Sweet B, but they nailed it with, “We’re fuckin’ awesome.  How come we don’t have more friends?”  I’m smart, nice, easy to get along with, have a good sense of humor, have a good job, and looks-wise have never even on one occasion scared a small child.  I’m doing alright.  Some may even call me a catch.  On good days, I accept this, and I feel good about it.

Other days, I wonder how anyone could ever like me.  I like cheese and ice cream too much to ever look like a model.  I can be needy.  I can be jealous.  I wonder if I’ll ever accomplish anything truly noteworthy.  I wonder if I’ll ever “grow up”.  I know my man loves me, but I wonder if he’ll ever love me enough to marry me.  I wonder if anyone could ever believe in me enough to take a big chance on me.  I wonder if someone could ever want it bad enough and trust me enough to say “fuck everything else, I want a life with you.  All of it – the marriage, the house, the kids.”  I wonder why these things seem to come naturally to other people.  They grow up, they find someone, they get married, and live happily ever after.  Or they grow up, get a great job, get rich, and have an awesome house and take awesome vacations.  Or they grow up, throw a middle finger to the establishment, and travel the world, alternating between camels and bicycles to do so.

I realize people shouldn’t go through life trying to prove themselves worthy.  I know to be a healthy person capable of giving and receiving love you have to love yourself and truly believe you are worth loving.  You see, I’m a logical person.  My practicality is both a gift and a curse.  But at times, it’s altogether absent or may as well be, because while I can rationally accept these things, emotionally I struggle.  How exactly do you like yourself more?  Will accepting myself be the magical key, and once I unlock this, everything will fall into place?  I hope so, because at the risk of sounding self-absorbed, entitled, or whiny, I really do want to just feel at peace with everything.  I want to feel like I’m where I’m supposed to be, that I have good things in store for me, and I want to feel happy.  I don’t just want to be amused, I don’t just want to have fun; I want to be truly happy. 

And make it snappy! 

The Most Outrageous Update You Ever Seen If Up Until Now You've Never Seen An Update!!

Dear Blog,

It’s been a while.  A lot has changed since we last spoke.  Allow me to fill you in:

1 - I have brown hair now.  I know, I know- it’s been a while.  But reactions have been overwhelmingly positive.  People say the color “brings out my eyes” which seems nice at first glance if it weren’t for the fact that I’m legally blind.  I kid, I kid!  Nobody is talking about my eyes.

2 - The birthday train makes a stop for me on Friday.  I have really positive feelings about turning 27; I finally feel ready for it, ready to embrace it, ready to feel “twenty-seven”.  Except that I’m turning 28.  Twenty-eight feels like a kick to the crotch.  So I have a message for you, “28”:

Please try not to suck.  26 buh-lew for me, and I’ve about lost all my gawddamn patience for year 27.  Yes, there have been some awesome highs, but those were sprinkled in between way too many lows.  I’m tired.  I’d really appreciate a year without the following:

-loved ones dying

-one fucking mini-health crisis after the next.  Honestly, I’ve given more to doctors this year than I have to Dairy Queen, and if that doesn’t strike you as downright wrong, you clearly don’t have an unhealthy affection for ice cream like I do.  Also, I don’t believe my health issues and my DQ issues are related, so don’t go trying to pull a “perhaps you should eat healthier and exercise more” punch on me- I know your tricks.  Sneaky.    

-one “what-am-I-doing-with-my-life” crisis after the next.  Let’s just calm down for a minute or a year, shall we?  Let’s just accept the fact that we have a lot of “potential” and it’s okay if we don’t know exactly where it will best fit yet.  All of the oxygen plants create would be a waste if we didn’t breathe it and expel carbon dioxide. ß And by that I’m pretty sure what I’m trying to say is that every chemical reaction needs a catalyst, and I could be wrong about that, but then again, I’m a lover, not a scientist. ß And by that, I think I’m trying to say that all of the awesome things I am capable of will only be fulfilled if placed in the right circumstances, and sometimes this requires patience.  And I don’t have a whole hell of a lot of patience, but let’s not go pointing fingers.  This is yet another thing to accept.  So maybe the message should be “calm down and work on accepting yourself”.

-living paycheck to paycheck.  Let’s pepper in a healthy raise somewhere, shall we?  Mama’s tired of mooching internet and making false promises of new, long over-due spark plugs to her overworked Mustang. 

Thank you for your time, in advance, year 28.

3 - I’ve had some crazy ass dreams lately.  I shan’t fully recount them, but they included the following:

-my teeth falling out, but not the one that I’m genuinely afraid will fall out- the good ones.

-a plane ride with my boyfriend, his ex-brother-in-law, and my ex-boyfriend.  The plane dropped in elevation, flew low, and this was to go under a bridge to avoid enemy fire, which we then had to reciprocate.  We blew something up that was trying to down the plane.

-a lesbian marriage.  She was someone I’d never seen before, she dressed in an Alexander McQueen-type punk formal dress; I inexplicably chose a magenta satin prom dress with a black fur stole.  There was no ceremony, but I was late to it (which is about the only true to life element of this dream), and afterwards I was upset because I hadn’t gotten to wear a white dress or have the wedding the way I wanted it and I married a woman!  I was upset.

-I was involved in some sort of criminal gang with Jesse James.  Not the original Jesse James- the motorcycling, philandering, his face graduated from the Beauty-School-of-Hard-Knocks one.  We would burglarize companies, I think, and had plans to hit a place but backed out because it felt wrong.  We were lucky because it was a sting operation.  I told him I wanted out, and cried as I told him I needed to do something that my parents would be proud of.  He let me out of the gang, but I was immediately suspicious of him because I thought surely he’d sold me out to the feds.

-We (me and other people in “my group” I don’t know or remember) were surrounded and the only way to get out was to “fish” by throwing out lines with razor blades attached.  They’d sink into peoples’ cheeks and foreheads.  We’d take them out, and they’d go away.  It was like catch and release, with blades for people.  Disturbing.

Going to sleep is an adventure every night because while my dreams are amusing, they are also very uncomfortable and disturbing, and often times I desperately want to wake up but cannot.  If anything, it reaffirms that people should not do drugs before bedtime.  Or anytime, really.  I don’t do drugs.  This is like a public service announcement!  You’re welcome, America. 

If I think of anything else, dearest blog, I’ll get back to you. 

God Bless

*Did you see what I did there?  I gotta be the craftiest motherfucker alive!