Don't think about what you are giving up

Don't think about what you are giving up. Think about what you really want.
(somthing like that)

Good advice.

Kick Ball, Four Square: Gradeschool Torture

BITCH of the MOMENT: last case scenario

----

One of the worst feelings is knowing that you are the last option. Think back to the days of gradeschool P.E., Choosing teams. Perhaps you were one of the physically exceptional athletes at that age or you had a bunch of friends that always wanted you on their team.

I was not. I did not want to play the games because I did not want to look like an ass in front of everyone. Not that I was a chubby kid- I wasn't that either. I was a very skinny little broad in grade school. It came down to I wasn't popular and didn't want to be there.

--

Actually, when you got into about... 5th grade, you could become part of the school crossing guard. Me and another girl got in trouble for hitting a kid with the "KIDS CROSSING" sign so we got to go to the resident therapist during P.E.

Niiiiiice.

But that didn't last long.

--

Just as much as I didn't want to participate, I most certainly did not want to be the last person picked. You can see already the rut I was in.

And that mentality has carried over to womanhood.

I hate knowing that I am the last option. That when someone says to me "Oh I miss you so much" it is because the other resources have gone dry.

That sucks. A lot.

And I have a hard time forking over any "yippydee! my turn, oh yea!" type crap because...

well, my feelings get hurt to, DAMN IT!

Now my brain is stuck back a Root Elementary. That's right: the Root Raiders.

We had a school song...

"Black and Gold

Gold and Black

We're Root Raiders

R-O-O-T

bla bla bla bla

Reading Writing

bla bla bla bla bla"

... So on and so forth

We had to sing it at graduation. Words cannot express the dread that filled my heart during school. I fucking HATED gradeschool. FUCKING HATED GRADESCHOOL.

I got made fun of to no end. If I am in the right mood, I can still cry over it.

That's right- I said it.

That is the age when I began to hone my talent for getting out of school for "medical purposes" And that doesn't mean that I wasn't really sick

(some of the time I was and sometimes I hated school enough to make myself sick)

Terrible. Yuck.

Perhaps that is where part of my drive comes from to kick the living shit out of how everyone thought I was going to turn out.

You know, I was a smart ass even back then. When I was in... I think 4th grade... I was a BIG TROUBLE MAKER. Me and Mrs. Seifritz (See Fritz run, See Fritz Jump) despised each other. Total Trouble Maker

Let me list a few instances:

a) Brought a fake knife to school: I got it on vacation. It was the kind that when you poke somebody the plastic blade recedes so it looks like it is going in the person. Yea, teacher saw. Ended up in the principal's office. That's really all I remember about it. Obviously this was prior to the days of wide spread terror where kids get suspended for pointing chicken fingers and saying "bang bang".

b) Bring the rest down too: I never got in trouble alone (aside the knife thing). My handy dandy sidekicks were there too. That didn't fool anyone: Mrs. Seifritz knew the truth. She actually called me (to my face) a "BIG PROBLEM".

c) Hit the guy with the crossing sign: yea, actually I (and another girl) held the boy by the backpack while a third girl hit him with a sign. As stated previously, I ended up seeing the school therapist during PE (didn't even plan that).

d) Blue balls: this one wasn't my fault but is REALLY funny. A female friend threw a rock at this boy she had a crush on (they later dated). Simple enough, right? Turns out she hit him in the balls and his mother wrote a letter to the principal explaining his bruising which she, in turn, read to me and my friend. 5th graders.

--

These events have become mild.

So many hours I spent in that office with various ailments. There is no way of describing it. Anything to get out of the classroom. And I would stay away for as long as possible because the worst part was going back into the classroom- everyone turned to see who came in. Hated it. Absolutely. I would try to stay gone until they were switching classes so I could sneak into the crowd.

Nonetheless, I quit the Gifted and Talented Program (which I regret to this day) to spend more time with my "friends". I really don't like that girl. She is a fuckhead.

-----

Anyway, I have to get my ass out of Root Elementary. ITS OVER THANK GOD.

The whole point was that it sucks to be the last case scenario.

I can't really get my mind around WHY specifically it sucks, but just on principle.

Maybe because I have no other scenarios. When something new comes up... it sticks. And I don't like sticky stuff- like bandaids- because they usually hurt and they never come off as easily as they went on.

Thus, I condemn sticky stuff.

And dealing with all that crap gets me off track. And that sucks too.

-

Being alone isn't bad. Its been remarkably good for me so far.

But too much of anything... whatever.

It will be amazing if I recognize when to change course. Looks as though that will require divine intervention. I have a feeling I am coming closer to... opening up to it? allowing it? experiencing?

Anyway. Enough.

MnM and PnP: Change of Heart

I am about ready to take to my bed and mourn loss of my sanity.
Almost got in another car accident on the way home from Ladera
A lot of the time I let people cut in front of me, but for some reason this time I didn't. The guy in an SUV from the on-ramp sped up and I ended up speeding through a SUV sandwitch.
If I had slowed down I would have gotten hit by the car that was next off the on ramp. No one honked and that is a good thing. When I do something embarrassing I really shut down. Probably would have pulled over to the side of the road and stayed there for a while if anyone had honked just because I would have felt like such shit.
But I got home alive. The rain is really whooping some ass right now. Thunder storms in southern California.
Dark ass clouds everywhere. When it the wind blows hard (Santa Ana's or otherwise) like they will tonight, a palm tree bangs my window, all night long. Its no use sleeping on the couch. Its on the front of the house too so the noise is just as bad.
Poor CJ. He is desperately afraid of the palm tree (and storms) and shakes like a mother fucker all night long. He climbs in the bathtub, hides in closets; he's even been known to climb on dressers. Very weird.
But its dark, rainy, cold: the perfect time to take to bed and watch HGTV while I pout.
Even as I write that, this stab in my stomach says "Why don't you do something constructive?"
In other words, my stomach thinks I would benefit from doing some work.
(My stomach is an asshole)
--
Sorry this isn't a quality post.
Took the MNM to the grocery store today. We couldn't find canelope, the right peanut butter, or the right orange juice.
-----
About the Nicknames real quick:
My mama will be called MNM because well the MaMa and also she is about the size of an m'n'm
My papa will be called PNP because of PaPa and also his sense of humor (pee in pants)
Resume
----
So now both pnp and mnm want to move back to Arkansas. Let me list the reason why
1. The Weather Channel. They can't have cable: where they live provides them with satellite TV and that is all they are allowed to have. The weather channel (which doesn't have local weather because it isn't cable) went out and that is a HUGE issue since that is pretty much the only channel they watch.
2. Jason. The personal chef that brings them their meals is turning out to be a flake. This week he is "unable" to deliver and MnM has an excuse limit that is very low.
3. Filipino Girls. the Gparents require a caretaker 2 afternoons a week. There is one girl, G. that they really like and when she comes all is good. But there have been quite a few times that she has been "unable" to come and in her place other Filipino girls are sent. Most of them have bad English, do not know how to drive, and cannot clean the apartment in a satisfactory way. When you are paying someone $17.50 and hour, I would say it is reasonable to want someone that can do what you need them to do.
4. Groceries. Stores have a funny way of (how MnM puts it), dropping all the items in the inventory that she needs.

For these reasons (and the fact that they spent all of their lives in Arkansas) the Gparents are ready to pack it up and head back east. Fuck.
---
As for my sanity... I am absolutely sure that I will be fine. If I do some work I will shoot myself. No, just kidding. If I do some work my stomach will shut the fuck up. Wasting time. I am always wasting time.
RIGHT. SO.
I will spend the next little chunk of my life contemplating the pros and cons of the juvenile justice system.

Road Closed: Under Construction

TODAY'S BITCH: ROMANCE

We went up to Chino today.
To do some shopping. And that we did- and the car was very full making it rather amazing that we all got back home at the same time.
--
Thinking about this sudden "wow I miss you so much" and I can't think anything except
these pieces that I am being given do not fit together and I don't think there is anything in my power or will that will allow me to find a way to put these pieces together.
It doesn't make sense. And I know what this is.
I don't fool myself into thinking that I am a finished product yet. There are many more days I will spend under construction
As the description said "it enhances her character"
-
I would like to be a romantic, really I would. But I am much too self concerned and really... it just isn't very good for me.
Being romantic to me... is like indulging in pretending you are sick.
You get out of doing the work. It works. Immediate gratification.
And all along the way you are going "damn, I didn't know I was this good"
But then
BAM!
One day its over and you have all your commitments and work and the rest of your life to deal with
Being a romantic makes it difficult to be myself. It takes me away from the person that I really am.
My commitments. My work. The rest of my life.
And those are the things that remain constant when the romance fades.
-
The looking-glass self... Internalizing the expectations of society.
Truth. Bare, essential truth.
I have some idea (however twisted) of who others want me to be.
I am even willing to play on it.
But it takes me further and further away from who I truly am.
I am not the person they want me to be.
I want to be.
But I'm not. And I know that it is (going to be) much more rewarding to be my own person and have a little self-discipline than to whatever else...

There is much more self-restraint present now. I am able to hold back from getting in situations that require me to straddle honesty and obligation (self-inflicted and otherwise)
That is the length of my expertise so far.
Stop it from happening in the first place. A good place to start.

What the fuck ever.
Life is good, I can not lie.
It is good.

I have issues.

-K

Bitter with Baggage, Happy Holidays

Merry Christmas all.

I got a jewelry box and a tool set (among other things): my life is a complete paradox.

But this is actually a post coming from the pissed-off-child-like side of me this Christmas. That's right- another installment of "Whaaa my daddy doesn't love me like I want him to"
Bitch of the moment:
Most of the time, it should be noted, I am able to not be plagued by hurt or anger, or any emotion really, towards my dad. Most of the time I am able to... ignore it? not overthink it?
But there comes times that I just think to myself
"What the fuck? How the hell did I get screwed over like this?"
As previously reported, I was not invited home for the holidays this Christmas
My father said he didn't want me to see him "sick"... Which I could accept as a reasonable excuse if it weren't for the gawning fact that I am the only person on the planet he didn't want to see him "sick" this holiday season.
Let's Check the Christmas People List:
LD: check
My Brother: check
Grandparents (related): check
LD Kid 1: check
LD Kid 2: check
LD Kid 3: check
(I won't count the all of the animals; that wouldn't be fair)
LD's Parents: check
ANY FUCKING BODY ELSE: CHECK MOTHER FUCKING CHECK.
Selfish me, I was thinking since I am made up of HALF HIS FUCKING GENES I might be a little higher up on the list than his girlfriend's parents.
Excuse me. I was obviously wrong.
Called him: he was taking a nap before going with LD to have Christmas at her parent's house.
(yuck)
I let him go
(daddy needs his rest)
and he said he would call me back later. And I am sure he will. At about 11:30 pm MY TIME
Which would be 1:30 am his time.
(and if I was going to be a REAL bitch I would say that would mean he never called me back on Christmas. But I am not that retarded- and neither is he)
---
Background Check:
the other day he called me back at about 10pm my time (12am his time) and said to me
"Did you think I forgot you" and I said "Actually, yes"
"Well, I did"
Ah, shucks!
---
I teeter between wanting everything to be A.OK: for everyone to love me, and for wanting to really rip into these people (meaning my father) for the past and showing some of my anger.
I want closure, damn it! And it is VERY hard for me to "move on" without having some idea of what the fuck went wrong before.
Call me crazy, but I think that is the best way to go about things: CLOSE UP THE WOUND MOTHER FUCKER.
Unless you prefer unadulturated anger spouting up at the most inopportune moments
(see: running away from home and showing up at your girlfriend's house telling her what an ass you really are "but really, he will be great for you"; making a scene at office in front of employees, making a scene at home in front of girlfriend; alienating girlfriend/gf family- a real specialty)
I have a nice, firm resume for outbursts of anger that yes, true, embarass me quite a bit in retrospect but sure make you look like an ass in the meantime.
I can fight
I can scream
I can manipulate
I can glare
I can do all these mean things and more well; and do you know why?
I learned it from my daddy.
--
The point is... that there is no point... that I am a bitch. That I am not getting what I want, I don't understand, I feel like I have lost something
(at certain moments)
But reverting back to what I wrote before: I want people to love me/ I want recognition for past wrongs.
Daddy doesn't like me when I am mean.
Daddy likes me when I am happy and nice
and nice to his girlfriend
and cute
and when I impress his associates
and when he can brag about my successes.
These are all things that I am willing to give a person. I have found these things to be extremely good benefits of have a relationship with me. But I don't hand out freebees to people who make me feel like shit.
People that don't invite me home for the holidays.
He says "your presents are on the way out to california- they are in the mail"
and I don't give a FLYING FUCK about presents. I don't care.
I am not a child anymore (in that way).
I WANT CLOSURE FOR CHRISTMAS DAMMIT.
---
Ok, truthfully, here is what pisses me off most:
That I go through these bitch sessions. That I can't just move on.
It boils down to: I want my father to love me. I want to be the daughter that he is proud of
(which shouldn't be hard solely because I am the only daughter)
I don't want to need closure. I don't want past wounds. I don't want to be the kind of girl that can't forgive can't let things go.
I want to be happy. And that is completely, totally, 100% my choice.
It is my choice.
I can make this relationship miserable or I can wait until its too late and never be close to one of the people... God only knows I want to be closest to.
Thats it. That is really, really it. All there is to it.
All these people are ready and willing to get to know me, to let me be a part of their family.
My brother doesn't give a fuck and he is the only one that could possibly be as bitter as I am.
And then there is me.
So I can choose how smoothly this goes.
The future me is really banking on the idea that I am mature enough to suck it up and act like a big girl.
What's the worst that can happen?
They like me?

PICTURE TIME

That's right: its time for the annual picture upload!
Hooray!
Only because it is the holidays
(that is the only time I feel the need to bombard others with my personal pictures)

One of the most beautiful things I have seen this year: The Christmas Train.

At the station

In all it's shining, holiday glory

Friends, meet CJ (you can call him sock). Other items in this picture are nameless (kind of sad, I know)

Another

Calm Mother Fucking Rooms

Painting 101: Dark Colors bring Baggage

I love to drive: I know I love to drive.
I love to drive at night; that is my time of the day.
and I am a good driver
(I am worth shit when it comes to parking, but I can drive)
Sometimes I wonder if I am out for the drive or I am out trying to look like something I'm not.
Whether I am out for the act of driving or for acting like I have somewhere to go.
It depends.
I am my own kill joy.
---
Sanding baseboard.
Dark Blue Room.
The next room I paint will be Offwhite. I cannot believe I tricked myself into painting another dark color.
It's beautiful, yes, of course it is: if it wasn't I would have stopped before I stuck my fucking foot in the paint can DAMMIT.

Since I am looking to decorate my new blue room, I tend to spend some time on the HGTV webpage, cruising the designer's portfolio for designs that look like "me"
And you know what?
Not a damn one of those rooms has been blue yet.
They are all neutrals, white comforters, cozy contemporary.
Not blue. No no, of course not blue.
And the idea was a good one: contemp. library: tan berber carpet, dark blue walls, white plantation shutters/baseboard/ceiling. All wood furniture (stuck between birch or cherry)
Good, right?
Beautiful bedroom, right?
But I see these pictures of what look like CALMing rooms- and that has never been a specialty for me. N has a nice cool blue-green color on her walls- and she tried to convince me to scale back on the dark colors...
But it will be great and I will love it and it will just be fucking wonderful.
(do you know why? because I am not going to have one blue foot and one tan foot: aka I am NOT going to REPAINT this room. Paint over a dark color with a light one? I would rather not, thanks.
I am SUCH a dumb fuck. Seriously.
--
No, I am not as down about it as I seem. I think with the right lighting it won't look so... daunting? dark? lagoon-ish?
Next time... oh next time.
Library this time. Sancuary next time.
Or something like that.

Car Accident/Christmas Shopping/Sad Dad Stuff

Merry Christmas all.
I bought presents for LD and that entire clan
Actually I bought all the presents for other people with my own money
That is a first.
Woohah!
So it seems I have a heart.
---
Got in a car accident. Totally my fault: 2 days ago.
It was my first car accident. It happened in a store parking lot where, ironically, I was going to get LD's present. As I was pulling into a parking place, I totally scraped the left side of a Toyota Sienna (see Minivan: aka PANIC, KIDS, OH FUCK). The van actually ROCKED when I hit it.
LUCKILY it only did damage to the bumper and absolutely no damage to the door. And no one was in the van when it happened.
Honestly, I could have left. I really thought about it; the only person that I saw that saw it left the parking lot within a minute after. But I didn't. Boy, did I choose a great time to leave my cell phone at the house.
Pure animal terror.
There was no way I was going to page the family over the store intercom: can you imagine all of the families with minivans rushing to the parking lot- it would be a mob. They would have ganged up on me and kicked my ass as part of the Minivan Pact people sign when they get a minivan- they sign in blood.
(protection of the children, ya know)
So I ran in, called N because I didn't know what the fuck to do. She came as soon as she could.
In the meantime, however; I was sitting in the parking lot, in my truck, watching every family come out of the store, waiting for the owners to come out and freaking out the entire time
"Excuse me, is this your van?" I asked several families.
And that is the worst thing- having no idea WHO that damn thing belongs to.
You sit there and see these people come out who look mean as fuck and you sit there and go
"GOD NO, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE"
N got there and told me I could take her car and she would wait to talk to the owners for me
Because like the emotional pussy I am, I was sobbing.
I got as far as shutting the door to her car to drive off and just couldn't do it.
I absolutely could not leave her to deal with my mess. That is such a childish thing to do.
So I stayed, and we waited.
About 45 minutes after the accident occurred, the owners finally came out.
(that entire time we just waited)
Asian family, I think Korean. 2 young kids, a boy and a girl.
So fucking nice. N did the talking because I was sobbing like a genuine pussy
(hey, I have never been in ANY sort of accident in my ENTIRE life- at least none with a. Visible damage or b. caused by ME)
So the family kept looking at me and going "No, Don't Cry" in a distinctly Asian accent
-
I refused to drive my truck home. I did not want to touch that truck with a 50 foot pole and the truck didn't want me to touch her either.
So N drove me to the house and we did some painting and she and D tried to cheer me up by telling me about all the stupid accidents they had caused in the past. And it worked.)
Later N took me back to the store and we shopped for a while and I drove my truck back to the house.
--
About my truck:
Layla, who I might have written about, has a VERY sharp and defined personality. She knows what she likes, she gets straight to the point, and she will get on my ass about anything she damn well pleases. Her favorite band appears to be the Smashing Pumpkins, she likes the color red on other cars but prefers black and chrome for herself
(no she doesn't have a favorite actor or TV show or movie: she doesn't watch television you dumbasses. She doesn't fit in the living room and therefore has no exposure to such things. But, if ever we get a TV in the garage, I will be the first to notify you of what she thinks)

And she was WAY FUCKING PISSED about the accident and would not drop it. She gave me the whole "I do nothing but try and protect you and you fucking ram me into a van. That's bullshit Kel, you fucking know it". Yeah, she talks like that. She has one hell of a vocabulary.
Layla, by the way came out of the accident fine. Her (minor) injury was purely cosmetic. In comparison with the minivan (which will need a replacement bumper) she did very well.
Thus another argument for why I like trucks.
--
The M.V. owner has already filed an insurance claim and I am just damn glad that they were nice. Otherwise, this could have ended up hairy.
They called me something like "a good ambassador for the United States" or a "Good American" or something.
I should hit people more often (just kidding)
---
I went to get coffee today (because I am too lazy to clean my old ass coffee maker- this happens 2-3 times a week) and the guy was very efficient and the coffee was very good:
( I strongly recommend the Coffee Bean over Starbucks)
So after I ran some other errands I went back and put $2 in the tip jar.
(I should mention my coffee was $4.85 or something)
The guy who served me wasn't in the front of the shop, so he didn't notice. In fact, I don't think anyone noticed, which actually makes it more satisfying. How about that?
It appears I have a heart.
--
So most of my money is gone now. But alas! It was all for a good cause. To really be the only one that knows what the fuck is under that tree. (as oppose to having someone else buy the gift and put it in your name)
--
This Christmas I will spend at my mum's house with her, my stepfather, and my grandparents on my mum's side.
I was not invited back to Arkansas to spend Christmas with my father. And yes, that does make me sad. Rather sad when I think of him spending it with LD and her family but not with me.
But I try not to think about it like that- try not to be so selfish.
He and I have been talking more often. For about a week we talked everyday.

I am the only thing in this relationship that I can change...
No, I am the only thing in this relationship that can change. This is how this is going to be. And most of the time, I am able to be fine with it- good even. To look forward to spending time with that new family.
Its only those times when I here my father's voice on the phone when he is out shopping, and hearing the kids' voices in the background. And knowing he is happy. And they are happy.
It is like Kerry and I discussed: no matter how hard me, my mother, my brother tried, none of us were ever worth changing for. And now with them, all of a sudden he's doing all those things that we, as his family, begged him for years to do.
Please take off work, please come home, please take care of yourself, etc. They have the dad that not that I had but that I always knew was there.
but was never worthy enough to have myself.

CRASH BANG BOOM

So the remodel has begun
By that I mean that there is NO wall were there used to be a wall.
N was home today: she had a root canal yesterday and called into work sick with a "crick in her neck". Really though she just wanted to take pictures of the various stages of a wall crumbling.
So I sat downstairs working for probably 2 hours, the whole time upstairs
CRASH BANG BOOM
Great stuff
--
I suppose it hasn't been mentioned that the spa came (or the fact that a spa was purchased). Yes, it came yesterday. D and I stood on the porch when it was being brought in... and it is fucking massive
M-A-S-S-I-V-E: rather large
not to mention that the backyard is about half the size of a pea (no it is a great backyard: and it was actually probably a 1 1/2 peas before yesterday)
-
I have had a spa before...
---
TIMEOUT: from now on the word "Hot Tub" will be substituted for the word "Spa" just because the latter sounds snobby to me
Resume
---
When a was about 8 or 9 my father got a spa: burgundy, lovely
(now it has fallen into disrepair as there has been a massive hole in the cover for 2 years now and all of the lovely weather and bugs and shit have gotten in there: my bubba and his clan use it anyway)
This spa is only about 1-2 years old.
It can heat itself without the jets being on (because its so smart like that)
The light inside has 5 different settings (the light is blue by the way)
It has rotating jets (I might have made that up)
The cover is going to have a hydrolic lift
There is mosiac looking work on the inside rim
And it takes up almost all of the space on the patio
-
Everytime I go out there... it isn't a hot tub to me yet. Its just a really big ass thing sitting where I use to smoke cigarettes
--
Changes.
"Try it, you'll like it"

ORDER! (a medium length drive)

Messy; flat out messy.
I didn't take a shower today until 6pm.
But after I took a shower and saw N and D off to a party, I promptly took a shower, dried my hair, got dressed...
(pranced around in high heels for a few minutes, imagining what it would be like to be tall(er), skinny(er), and have some where to wear those shoes to)
Put on warpaint (god only knows why: I wanted to feel pretty, just for a few minutes)
Then I went for a drive. Down towards the coast it was amazingly foggy; beautiful- hard to see. Once I got to PCH it was better; it started to taper off a bit.
I have never seen it like that before, I don't think. Not right at the coast at least.
Felt like going to the beach but didn't (for quite a few reasons- I was able to hone myself back in)
What am I expecting? Every stoplight, someone make me feel a little better about myself. Never happens. I am just not that special.
And I shouldn't be so naive. Let alone so childlike. So I drove to 7-11 and got a cappuccino, and came back to the house.
We are getting a hot tub on Tuesday and doing a remodel starting Thursday.
Life is good, right?
---
There has to be some order to this whole process. If you (referring to myself) are going to be an ice bitch, you have to carry that through. You can't do it half the time and then be whatever the fuck else you want to be the other half of the time. This has served you well.
---
So I came home and decided I would post this and then get my butt into gear doing some work. I've just been so tired these past few days...

Wal-Mart Day: Coke with Papa

So in talking to my grandfather today I found out that he doesn't want to live out here in California. Actually, it is more likely that he doesn't realize he doesn't live out here.
I don't know what I mean.
Nevermind.
I'm not upset, I just don't want to write anything more slanted than usual

Game of Push and Pull: Part 1

I have this game I have played since I was a little girl (mindgame, that is).
Yes, I know, everyone plays this game at one time or another
but I am thinking of getting a copyright.
--
When I was little I used to cry until my mom or dad came in the room to calm me down.
Then I would tell them they don't love me and they don't care and to leave me alone
Until they did
And when they started to leave the room, I would start crying my ass off again
Lather, rinse repeat.
--
That game has matured as I have matured (to the extent that it can) and is still extremely promanent.
For instance, I don't think I have ever had a boyfriend I haven't broken up with at least twice; sometimes everyday. It is my nature to second guess.
More importantly it is my nature to test the people around me. Family, friends, random ass people. What are the boundries? Perhaps I think there is more to me than there really is.
Perhaps I think I am one of those people that can get away with that kind of stuff
and I am sure that my perception is quite of kilter there.
--
So knowing this about myself, I have come to the conclusion that I am unfit for social relationships of any kind and have taken to my brooding self the majority of the time.
Yes, I know, eventually I will come out. But the person I want to be is so far-fetched from the person I really am that it will continually fail me and let me down until I readjust my lenses.
Attraction is based on a limited knowledge of a person... and usually what I exude is little of what I really am and some filler.
--
And I am trouble. I push buttons, poke, prod, and get possessive. I am all of those evil things you don't want in significant other and the things I don't want you to know about me.
Back to the point: my game (copyright pending) push-pull...
Its something I don't want to do to people anymore; purely on the basis that I am striving for sainthood.
Problem: i can hide as long as i want, but most likely that flaw will rear its head again... and again...
--
Last night I had a dream that my dad flaked: he told me he was going to meet me but I found out he went with LD (have to change that nickname) and was going to get married or something along those lines. When he finally showed up, he was with LC, a former girlfriend and loved her now. LC turned out to be kind of a pain in the ass, but nonetheless I was happy to see her in my dream.
And a fish died.
--
My nightmares consist primarily of
a) relapse dreams of all favors and severity
b) father related problems
c) lack of basic social expectations (unable to control bodily functions in public)
Basically I get ditched by daddy dearest, piss on myself, and go get drunk
Taa-Daa!
9 hours a night, probably 4-6 days a week
That is probably what is going on.
----
The major relationship that I have that is relevant and causes me to revert back to basic instincts, is that with my father/brother/arkansas
It is exactly I was when I was a 9 year old in that house. Nothing has changed, nothing has been resolved, and no holds barred.
Sometimes it isn't bad and sometimes the old me doesn't even show up. But if there is anywhere in my life where auto-pilot is a HORRIBLE HORRIBLE thing, AR factors are it.
---
I don't mean that changing my old behavior will mean ending relationships with those people
(though that has worked in the past: see where I am now for examples)
Shit.
--
Well, I am officially rambling.
G'night
God Bless?

-K

Backroads

Tonight's drive I will take the backroads, not the main streets.
Tour the roots of the suburban, California.
--
The worst terminal diseases are the ones that we live with, that are not caused by any medical dysfunction. The worst ones are the kind that we have no knowledge of how to change; no real "need" to change.
And that falls under the heading of "if it isn't broken, don't fix it"
Recognizing when something is broken is difficult.
Doing something about, though it poses no threat to you directly or currently, that is close to impossible.
Higher power, faith, whatever it takes.
Hypocrisy is the backbone of life and it can also be a magnificent tool for change if you are willing to admit to it.
--
So tonight, I take the rural streets; where I can examine without being noticed
Where people are inside, safe and happy, growing up, growing old
I won't drive on the mainstreets tonight. There is nothing of me to be seen.
--
Today I read about Anna, Isabelle, and Genie. I would hope that I share the most traits with Isabelle.
But realistically, I am probably more like Genie, at least for now.
With no respect for the space of others, no basic regulation of socializing, I point at the article I want and latch... and embarrass.
I embarrass
--
If we don't acknowledge or examine our mistakes, we are usually doomed to repeat them.
--

Life is good on the Verge

I think that we all live on the verge of losing everything.
We all live on the edge of a possible catestrophe.
Not that it is anything we may actually see in our lifetime, and probably not something that most people realize or want to think about.
I can go through my day and have it be fine.
And maybe it seems sort of... "duh"... but I know there are quite a few things that could turn my life over, right here, right now.
These things might be temporary. Everyone has gone through something that at least "momentarily" turned their world upside down
Heartbreak
Death
Illness
Anger
Depression
Hopelessness
Pain
... you know, all of that stuff.
But I'm not saying what it is I want to say... I know that much. I can't quite figure it out.
Its nothing serious.
--
Sometimes things are going great (well at least fine, good) and I suddenly realize what is down the road for me. That is not something you want to do.
Sometimes I realize that I am hurrling down this tunnel like a ball of fire shot from... God knows where... and all of this shit in my future that is inevitable.
And I just think to myself, sometimes silently, sometimes aloud:
Fuck.
We all have moments where life seems daunting at the least, sometimes just flatout impossible. My moments like that are much more brief than they use to be and I am sure they will continue to shorten through experience.
I don't think about my death very often anymore. Except those times that I can see my self flying remarkably fast down that damn tunnel.
--
As part of human nature, we have the ability to adapt; amazing, and very... overlooked.
Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to be a caveman, to have no sense of time, to sleep, hunt, kill, eat, shit,
sleep, hunt, kill, eat, shit,
lather, rinse, repeat, die.
That's it.
So what is so different now days? Aside the obvious "everything".
Truly that's sort of how it still is (I am trying to soften this because it sounds so antagonistic).
Okay, that is how it still is
Except now when we wipe our asses with Charmin, which is an noticable step up.
--
I'm sick of this post.
OH DEAR ME, THE DISMAY OF BEING A WHITE GIRL IN SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA AND PONDERING THE MEANING OF LIFE. WHAT SHALL I EVER DO.
I don't do that shit anymore, at least I try not to.
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