I’m Back

I’ll be honest. I lost my motivation there for a while. Nelson disappeared, but never fear Nelson is back!

Quick update, I have moved, started a new job, established new friends, dated and broken up with Clapper (will fill you in on the details), recently back on the market and believe me I’m exploring my many options.

One of my grandmothers has a stroke and the other broke her hip. Lots of family drama there.

Most of my friends are still in the picture. Many with big life changes–engagements, divorces, babies, moves, etc.

That’s all for the moment. I will be writing later with more detailed updates! Promise!

Stroke It Out

So this week as been damn right awful. It started off with 102 degree fever and being sick for 3 days. Thursday wasn’t too bad. Spend all day with Sunshine in the Sunshine. Took Shen to the vet, which was a bit of a nightmare. I can’t stand it when other people can’t control their animals. I don’t want your dog in my dog’s personal space. Please and thank you.

Friday came and with it came hell on wheels. We put my grandmother in the hospital. She wasn’t making any sense. She was talking but her words weren’t coming out correctly. For instance she would try to ask for a glass of water and it would come out as “I glass ice.”

Long story short, I got to sleep in the hospital Friday evening. Saturday came with a confirmed diagnosis of a stroke. Some of her speech and writing may come back with time, but all of it may not. So we are in for long all now.

The rest of Saturday, however, went much much better. I went to see Iamsohip. We had an excellent evening consisting of bitching without judgment, boozing, and boys. We went out to a local bar where I got to see LNAYX. God I have missed him! We got to hang and talk about the rest of summer. I got to hang out with Mr. Delicious as well. Turns out, by the way, that I am going to Ring Figure with him. Holla. Now I gots to finds a dress.

And the best part of the evening was when Clapper came and picked me up. We went home and (Mr. Boxer stop reading here and go to the next paragraph) did the dirty. I got me a unicorn. Hot damn! It was wonderful. He dropped the r word, “relationship”, and I didn’t fight it. We, Clapper and I, are in a relationship. It has been established.

I gots me a unicorn.

Delay

I know my posts have been a bit delayed over the past few days. We can thank my grandmother for fucking up the computer 6 ways to Sunday for that.

Irritating. Real irritating.

Nevertheless, I am trying my best to make up what has been lacking. Here’s a quick update.

I started working for one of my father’s businesses on Monday. He asked for help. I wanted into the office on Monday and he basically dumped one of the companies in my lap and said fix it. Lovely right? I can feel the stress. If I fail it’s a million dollar corporation failing. No pressure.

At home, my grandmother has been driving me bat-shit crazy. She is in my business and frankly it’s none of her fucking business what I do. Furthermore, she insists on lecturing me. That shit realllyyyyy gets under my skin. I cannot stand to be lectured. If I want your fucking opinion I will ask for it. If not, do not be a condescending cunt and tell me what to do. In fact if you do that, you should expect me to ignore you for days, weeks really, and do exactly what you told me not to do. These are the times that I go by the “fuck off, eat shit, and die” motto of life in accordance with my dealings concerning you.

As you can see, I don’t take well to being governed. Therefore, I will be spending this weekend in Northern Virginia with some great friends and enjoying life.

(And I swear to God if I come home to my room fucked with I’m going to lose my shit.)

Sunshine

Day 07: Someone who has made your life worth living for.

John Denver says it best:

“Sunshine on my shoulders makes me happy. Sunshine in my eyes can make me cry. Sunshine on the water looks so lovely. Sunshine almost always makes me high.”

Sunshine is one of many that make my life worth living for. We are like two peas in a pod and have been since we were born. We are only 5 days apart in ages and are basically twins. I can feel how she feels, without ever being there. I know her like the back of my hand, as does she to I. My existence depends on her existence and I honestly can’t image life without her and I never want to. My soul is a part of hers.

We come as a packaged deal. We travel together. Date together. Eat together. Even naked tan together. Every major decision I make, like moving or a job, is dependent on her. I think about moving away. I could do it, but you can bet your sweet ass I’d be on the phone with her every single day. Even when I broke the news to her that I could be moving up to 8 hours away, her only response was, “Man, that’s a long ways to drive. I’m going to need a room.”

She makes my life worth living because she is my ray of sunshine. She brings me up when I’m down, and calms me down when I’m losing my mind. She knows my darkest secrets, seen me at my lowest of lows, and my highest of highs. We have cried over death, and rejoiced over chances given. She is my rock and my soul and I would die without her.

Sunshine Is Beyond Random

Today was a highly adventurous day for Sunshine and I. We started off the day late but made our way to the beach which ended as quickly as it started. Why you ask? Simple. The wind was blowing at 20 miles per hour across the sand. If you don’t know what that means I’ll break it down for you. You’re standing there enjoy the waves and the breeze. Ah yes. What a nice breeze. Then it starts to sting. Ow. Ow. Owwwww. It get worse. It’s like being sand blasted constantly at different speeds. It fucking hurts!

So we made our way back to the driveway. I washed the truck, got hit on by the man checking the telephone poles. Awkward. Real awkward.

I ran in my Vibrams today. It was nice. Going to take a bit to adjust to them, but it felt good.

After this all, sense for Sunshine and I went out the window, completely. We discussed what it would be like to go through life without thumbs. The picture above is how Sunshine would drink water. (Blonde moment clearly.)

But in keeping with Sunshine’s randomness, this scene occurred.  We were watching a show about this man was having reconstructive surgery on his face and she looks at me, dead pan face, and goes “google pregnant midgets”. No lie.

But that was after I said this to her: “Damn I need to keep you around more often. You made my bed, you fixed my food, you washed my clothes and folded them, you washed the dishes, and you just spoon fed me. Why don’t you have a boyfriend again?” I’m such as ass. Ha. Our friend told me he’d punch me.

Finally, we topped off the night with with this quote “We are grown ass women trying to make fart noises with our armpits.”

(We failed by the way.)

Another rare thing about today is that I have literally talked to everyone today. Clapper with his random comments about the place that I’m staying. Mr. Soup and his serious comment about being serious and territorial. My friend from Cali. Mr. Delicious and well us just being normal friends. Mr. Breadstick and our general conversations. Ma. Peace and Gaga. Romeo and Juliet. Ms. EatsPlentyOfCheeseburgers and our crazy in tune thoughts. And finally iamsohip and James Taylor, among other things.

What a day. Time for late night sexting. Hot damnnn.

Bros Before Hoes And Chicks Before Dicks

Remember how you use to interact with all your married/in a serious relationship friends, and now you don’t? I do. I have many friends that are currently married or in a serious relationship and we just don’t click like we use to. Let’s give examples.

1. We can start with GoldDigger and My Father. Now I realize that they are “family” (gag), but I do feel like the redheaded step child, which I’m ok with because they leave me alone for the most part. But it seems like since they have entered married life everything revolves around her family. All holidays are spent with her family. All vacations, her idea/her family. All Saturday evening plans, her family. It seems that nothing that My Father does is for himself. Sure he enjoys what he does but he is contributing no original thought to the situation. My Father and I have never really been close, but he has changed since marriage. From the way he dresses, to his hobbies, to taking vacations (he never use to take those). His change, although for the most part for the better, has driven him even further from me. We have nothing in common, build no new memories, and his continuous apologizing for the past while rubbing the future in my face has to stop.

2. Next, we have Mr. Bear. Oh lord where do I begin? Well Mr. Bear has a serious track record of finding a new girlfriend and literally spending every waking minute with her, ditching his friends for the most part, and doing any and everything that she wants to do. Currently, Mr. Bear has a newer girlfriend. He has been seeing her for about 7 or 8 weeks.

Now, let me back up just a second and explain how Mr. Bear is dick to his friends when he has a significant other. A few weeks ago Mr. Bear and PR attended a wedding of a close friend of theirs. The night of the wedding Mr. Bear got all wasty faced, per usual. His girl called. He said he’d call her back later in the evening. She got mad. (Crazy cunts.) Later on in the evening Mr. Bear did indeed call his girl back. He had had several glasses of wine and called his girl by PR’s actual name on the phone repeatedly. Naturally his girl got pissed. I can’t say I blame her really. I would have done the same thing. Whatever.

Moving on to Monday. PR had changed her Facebook profile picture to a photo of her and Mr. Bear. A really great photo of them really. Well this apparently did not sit well with all parties involved. PR was working in the hospital all day Monday and could not answer her phone. Mr. Bear called PR six times saying that it was important and she needed to call him back. So after she left work, mind you the last thing she did was watch one of her patients die, she called him. He proceeds to tell her, “She was a fucking idiot and what was she thinking changing the profile picture. Blah, blah, blah.” He continues to rant and rave saying, “How could she be so stupid to put her profile picture of her and him, and his girl is pissed, and what kind of person is PR.” PR counters with the logical response of “Are you serious? We’ve been best friends and I love you like brother, and she needs to understand that I’m not going to be some selective friend and only be there when it’s ok.” His response, “I love her. Whatever she says goes and if she doesn’t like you, then I can’t like you type of deal.” PR lost her nugget. “If he can’t have the balls to tell her to calm the fuck down, we are just friends type of deal, then he’s fucked up and she wants no part of his future.” Mr. Bear, “Have a good one.”

Do you see my point? Mr. Bear has been dating this girl for weeks, literally, and he has shit all over PR who has been his friend for years. I mean seriously, what the fuck dude?

_________

Now, I will have to say that despite all the evidence listed above, I do have a few friends that are married or in a serious relationship and nothing has changed. I love and appreciate these friends more than they know for being themselves and balancing their relationships. If anything they have learned how to balance their relationships due to some of their own fuck ups in the past. So thank you Boot and her man, Mr. Breadstick and Ms. Ineedacheeseburger, and Romeo and Juliet, for being in relationships and not changing.

_________

The bottom line of this post is just this, if you choose to be in a relationship, that’s all well and fine, but do not loose your friends and family over your significant other. No one is worth that and when that shit blows up in your face you’ll realize just how alone you really are.

Lucy

We are going to keep it short and sweet today. I put my cat Lucy to sleep today. She had come down with toxoplasmosis and her liver was failing. She fought the good fight, as she had done her whole life, but it was time to let my precious little bitch go.

 

Lucy the first night I brought her home. She was in love with the waterbed, which is where she spent a great deal of time.

 

 

Lucy first came into my life 2 years ago. I was moving. She was a stray and jumped in my truck with that look of hers when she really wants something. She stole my heart then and there. I took her to my new apartment, and bathed her. Boy did she stink. Over the next few month, Lucy and I bonded with late night rub downs and her staring at me while I slept. She was growing and growing. Perhaps a little too much. She was indeed pregos. My little slut was gonna have some babies.

And that she did. Right on my suitcase in my closet. She birth out 4 little ones–Dewey, Mí, Levi and Ella. All boys. She loved her kids, but after a while she was ready to go back on the prowl. Standard. She’d sit in front of the mirror and get stare at herself. Admiring her beauty of course. She would be standoffish as hell with strangers, unless it was a man. Then she was all over that shit like white on rice. She’d walk up and just roll in the floor. Working her back around like the hoe bag she was. She loved the men. LOVED THEM.

Over the days that she lived on this earth she developed a few signature traits. Her slut roll of course, but also her bitch face and princess paw. She was a mark of royalty and she knew it. Crazy ass cat.

So here is to Lucy. She’s gone to meet Jesus and I just bet she’s in a room full of mirrors working it like she owns it. (Hey her nickname wasn’t Lucifer for nothing.)

A Letter To My Father

My Father,

To simply begin with I’d like to say that I love you. I love you very much, but at a distance. Being around you honestly makes my skin crawl most of the time. I do not have an undying need to see you, talk to you, or really acknowledge your presences. I am grateful for all the times that you were there for me and then things that you did for me. Putting a roof over my head, giving me a warm bed to sleep in, and purchasing my truck for me (out of guilt nonetheless).

But some of the things that you did for me, and to me, drove me away. You smothered me as a teenager. After the divorce, you were lonely and scared, which is completely normal. You, much like Ma, didn’t have the physical or emotional means to take care of yourself, much less me.  As a result of your unhappiness, I was ignored by you. The fatherly role ceased to exist. You closed in on yourself and shut everyone and every daily task out. You got lost in the bottle and in your thoughts. Thus, I fiend for myself.  I became an adult before I had to. I was independent and I was going to do whatever it took to be strong.

Once I gained my new-found independence and I learned that I was perfectly ok standing on my own two feet, I never, ever wanted help again. You were not my father. You were my housemate. I cooked, cleaned, and went about my business as usual.

My first rejection to you is when you wanted me to sleep in your bed because of the pending thunderstorms, which you knew I was absolutely terrified of. As a kid, I thought this was perfect sound. As an adult, no 12-year-old kid should be sleeping in their parents bed. I remember you wanting to “hug” me when we slept. Sorry, but you were wrong. That’s called spooning as adults, and I may I remind you that it’s not ok to say hi in the ways that you did. After I felt that something was wrong, I separated myself from the situation and suppressed as much of the memory as possible. It really honestly wasn’t until this past year that I realized I was 1 of 4. I had been violated in ways that I shouldn’t have been. At least it now explains a lot about how I feel and why I consistently fail at relationships.

The second reason I rejected you is because you never allowed me to breathe. Once I gained my independence, you decided it was time to try to be my parent again. Wrong. You stopped being my parent and I didn’t need you to start again. You were afraid of losing me, or me making a mistake. Well, one, you had already lost me. And, two, mistakes build character and they are good for your soul. Finally, if you thought that keeping me at home versus letting me go spend time with friends (which I actually had free time) was going to make me love you more, you are dead ass wrong. It made me hate you and I still do.

Finally, I don’t ever want you to pretend to be my father ever again. You are an acquaintance that I am required to go see once a year to make other people happy. You didn’t support me when I really needed you to, so don’t ever think for a second that I will lean on you again. You missed my high school and my college graduation and then gave me complete and utter bullshit excuses. I don’t need your drama or your bullshit. You lack of thought about “how your kids would feel” when you decided to propose, another mistake. I may not be around but you don’t ever expect me to be happy for you when you have made a rash, irresponsible decision. Especially one made when your father is on his death-bed. Furthermore, even though you don’t see it, your wife, GoldDigger, is just that, a gold digger. She’ll drain everything that you have and leave you in the end. Personally, you’re a sorry sack of blind shit if you don’t see that because everyone else does.

So before I sign off and bid my final farewell to you, you need to know two things. One, I love you. I do. But I can’t stand to be around you. Two, don’t ever try to be my parent again. It’s a failure waiting to happen. Three, if Ma knew about this, you’d be a dead man walking because I’ve got friends in low places, where the whiskey drowns and the beer chases my blues away, and I’ll be ok.

Sincerely,

The daughter that you lost and you never even knew it.

Mr. H You will notice I’m not saying Dear Father/Dad because firstly you are not dear to me and secondly you do not warrant to be called my father. Being a father entails action and you certainly have not delivered in that respect. I have spent years thinking that I don’t really care that you were not in my life. Realistically I can see m … Read More

via My First Time

The Sex Talk From The Rents

I give my parents (mainly my mother) a huge pat on the back for the way they handled sex with me. Sure there were some scare tactics, but for the most part my mother was very blunt with me. I can’t remember how old I was but I do remember that my parents were divorced at the time and that my Granny was in Maryland. I remember walking into my mother’s room and blurring out some mature question about sex (completely intruding on whatever it was that my mother was doing of course). I can’t remember too much about what was said but I can tell you that Ma didn’t hide anything from me. She explained a lot and was blunt about it. There was no beating around the bush and she talked to me like a maturing kid.

Unfortunately, my father didn’t handle things in the same manner. First off, it’s awkward for a father to talk to a daughter about the subject. Secondly, my father is HORRIBLE at communication in general so the conversation and the timing of it was about 1,000 times worse than it should have been. On my 16th birthday, my father gave me some gifts. I can’t honestly tell you what they were but I do know that he gave me a box of condom. Can we spell awkward? I politely gave them back and told him that I didn’t need them. Then he started in with “that” conversation. I tired on more than one occasion to explain that we didn’t need to have this talk, and I was continuously ignored. Now at this age the only way I knew to get my dad’s undivided attention was to make him mad (which by the way still works). So, I proceed to cut him off mid sentence (not like I was really listening to the pain staking conversation anyways), and yelled at him “Hey! Ma already covered this subject years ago while you were too busy not paying attention.” Bingo. He shut up. Face got red, and then he yelled back. Standard form of communication for us really.

Regardless, the bottom line is it’s better to talk to your kids about it when they want to listen. Remember that please.

“Sex was sinful, bad, and something that must never be done or else God will punish you with a baby. Every guy is after sex. It’s all they want.” This is what my parents told me. They did everything possible to scare me away from sex. In a way, I thank them because unlike many girls, I waited for someone I could trust and depend on. Someone special. My first love. The first time I had sex, it was January 2, 2009. The first time I had sex wasn’t r … Read More

via http://1sttime2010.wordpress.com

Counting Crows

Trash my boring life.
Rip up my stained Levi’s.
Throw away my Van Halen shirt.
Trash my dirt covered boots.
Toss aside my peace and love.
Disregard my independence.
Aggressive no more.

Dress me up all black and white.
Give me those Sperry’s and Argyles.
The perfect hair and face, boobs and zero waste line.
Paint me into your white picket fence world.
Right there with my perfectly manicured lawn.
Big white house. Black lab. 2.5 kids. One boy. One girl.
Give me that Volvo. School patch.
Perfect all American family.

Complete with a husband who is never home.
Disconnected from his family. A mortgage he can’t carry.
Hey every congressman needs a scandal.
A wife with a “friend”. A pain pill addiction. Spending. Hiring.
Discontent with her own life. Smiling. Screaming inside.
The kids. Perfect little angels.
Little devils with coke habits. Ripped shirts.
Living. Escaping.
The damn dog is the only one who’s got it right.

I’ll take my Dali over Mr. Jones.
Give me Morrison and Manson.
Allow me to live like Love.
Free of Mr. Microsoft.
Just Counting Crows.