I was mindlessly flipping through tv channels and I saw Madea's Faily Reunion
It caught me off guard. My mom loved those movies. She was a sucker for a sappy story. It always made her cry. I mostly watched them for her. I think they are okay, but I loved watching them with her because she reacted to them so much. God, I miss her. Every single day, I miss her. I don’t know that it’s ever going to get easier.
The memory is standing in front of this old cheap metal screen door we had when I was a baby and straining to reach the handle while crying hysterically. I couldn’t find my mom. I thought I was alone. I was scared.
The context of the memory makes it better, but the feelings I remember are still pretty shitty. Really, I was supposed to be napping and my mom had just ran next door to borrow an egg so she could make cookies. I woke up from the nap and somehow made it out of my crib and down the stairs before she got back. She found me crying at the door. Apparently, it took a long time for her to calm me down.
i like my body when it is with your body. It is so quite new a thing. Muscles better and nerves more. i like your body. i like what it does, i like its hows. i like to feel the spine of your body and its bones, and the trembling -firm-smooth ness and which i will again and again and again kiss, i like kissing this and that of you, i like, slowly stroking the, shocking fuzz of your electric fur, and what-is-it comes over parting flesh … And eyes big love-crumbs,
Especially when the person that is supposed to call and wake you up, doesn’t. So you have slept past the time that every close, reasonably healthy place you could get food is closed. And you will not be done moving your shit until much later than anticipated. And that promised hang out time may or may not happen. I have too many books. And too many shoes, especially considering I don’t really wear any of them. I just have to much stuff. I need to get rid of some of it, but I can’t so I’m just going to bitch on the internet some more. Oh, yay.
day 01- Guilty pleasure day 02- Something that inspires you day 03- The five songs you would have with you on a desert island and why day 04- What you imagine paradise to be like day 05- A thank you letter to someone who has changed your life day 06- Earliest thing you can remember day 07- Favorite cover of your favorite song day 08- Someone you think would make a good president day 09- Five things you want to see change day 10- A dream you had this past week described in detail day 11- Favorite picture ever taken of yourself day 12- Your favorite musical artist’s life story day 13- A memory that never fails to make you laugh day 14- Best mashup you’ve ever heard day 15- A moment, phrase, or song that has changed your life the most. day 16- Something that you want to do within the next five years. day 17- What you want to remembered for. day 18- A picture that makes you feel day 19- A passage from a book that has touched you day 20- A band that you immediately liked and the song that made you like them day 21- Your favorite medium of art. day 22- Someone you would give your life up for without question. day 23- Most awkward first impression you feel you’ve ever given day 24- Something you did as a child that other people remember you for. day 25- Something you would do if no one stopped you or if you knew you wouldn’t fail. day 26- Your definition of love. day 27- Your definition of the meaning of life. day 28- A moment you remember being completely happy in and a description of why you believe you were. what is your definition of happiness? day 29- What you live for. day 30- Ways you believe you have grown over the past thirty days.
He is doing something that is really important to him, but doesn’t really effect me at all. I didn’t expect to be nervous for him. That kind of doesn’t make any sense. But my tummy is full of butterflies and concentrating is hard. I will be glad when it’s over and he tells me how it goes.
doubts and deserving to be better than the second choice
I miss my mom so much it’s crazy right now. I really just want to be able to call her and tell her what’s up and ask for her help. I can’t and that sucks. It’s not fair that we didn’t get to have the friend stage. I’m not ready to be doing all of this alone, and sometimes, like right now, I just need to rant to her about the inconsequential things that keep me up at night. I need her to tell me what to do.
Right this second, the thing that is keeping me up is probably completely pointless but I can’t stop obsessing over it and wondering if I have made the right decisions or not. Maybe I rushed into. Maybe I should have waited. Maybe I shouldn’t be doing it at all.
I had a dream that the boyfriend cheated on me with a girl that I am going to refer to as the girl with hoop earrings and a weird nose (give me a break, I have only seen one picture of the chick, and I am a shallow fuck, so this is what I noticed). Anyway, point is, the boyfriend cheated on me and felt no guilt or remorse. Instead he was just happy to be with the girl with hoop earrings and a weird nose. It was just a dream. I know this. But regardless, I now have a head full of thoughts and doubts and questions. There is no one to talk them over with.
Best friends are out. I thought of them all ready. Normally, that is the first place I would have gone but I don’t know. Best Friend B has been so insanely hard to reach lately that he probably has no clue what is going on in my life, nor I his. It’s not necessarily a horrible thing, but it doesn’t exactly inspire confidence either. Best friend G just is not the easiest to talk to about this topic because she can’t relate because she only ever thinks of her relationship as perfect, unless you know, she is actually in the process of complaining about some aspect of it. Other options are out of reach. Plus, I don’t know, this seems different. Personal. Private. So obviously, I am pouring my heart out on the Internet because a) probably only like one person will read this anyway and b) that one person is completely anonymous as far as I am concerned. Just a face starring at a screen.
The girl with hoop earrings and a weird nose was the object of the boyfriend’s affection before me. She was a brief moment of time but really, time doesn’t matter all that much to love-struck individuals. Since I first started developing feelings for the boyfriend, this girl has irked me, lurking constantly in the back of my mind. I hate saying her name and typically go with the excuse of I can’t remember. Really, if I think about it, I always can, but saying it makes her real. I don’t know… maybe it’s some weird after effect of watching Beetle Juice too many times as a child. She makes me feel less certain than the ex, who has a bazillion year long history. I am not completely certain that the boyfriend was over the girl with the hoop earrings and a weird nose when we started dating. Obviously, I thought he was at the time, but since, there have been bright red flags claiming he was not. This dream has brought all those insecurities to the forefront and I don’t really know what to do to stop my mind from playing out these epically horrible scenarios.
I don’t want to be second best. I don’t deserve to be any one’s second choice. I think it has been way too much time for me to arrive at that conclusion. I am pretty amazing. I’m not being cocky or conceited, but I refuse to pretend like I don’t recognize my worth as one half of a relationship. I’m not perfect by any means. I’m self-centered at times, I have trouble saying when I am unhappy until it just builds and builds and I explode, and I stay up at crazy times over analyzing silly statements and then send e-mails that only occasionally make sense. When I love you though, I will pretty much go to the ends of the earth for you (as cheesy as that sounds).
I do love him, and loving him is so different than I imagined. It’s better and worse all at the same time, because really, giving someone else the power to break my heart scares the fuck out of me. Believe it or not Internet, in real life, I am a fairly private person. I lay it all out online, for better or worse. However, when surrounded by people I have to see tomorrow, the reality that letting them in means letting them have the capacity to hurt me in some sense causes me to keep my mouth shut when it comes to my inner thoughts. It’s self preservation at it’s finest, folks. This over-analyzing of a dream that came from no where is just another part of that self preservation reflex I think. Would it hurt me less to find out now that he would choose the girl with the hoop earrings and weird nose over me than it would a few months from now?
Maybe this is all in my head, and maybe I am not the boyfriend’s second choice. But the fact that I feel like I potentially am is enough to worry me. He knows about my dream to an extent, and he is going to know about this sooner or later (yup, he does on occasion read this silly thing I call a blog). Hitting create post pretty much guarantees that this rambling on the Internet will turn into an actual conversation, one that I am very afraid to have. I think I need to do it anyway.
“Too many guys think I’m a concept, or I complete them, or I’m gonna make them alive. But I’m just a fucked-up girl who’s lookin’ for my own peace of mind; don’t assign me yours.”—Clementine, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
I have been working constantly for the past four hours, and admittedly, my patience is thinning.
Even if I was not as polite as I could have been, there is no excuse for what a male resident just said to me.
He asked if we had any carts available, and I told him no (we typically do but they were all checked out). Then he got fairly rude about how the lack of carts made it impossible for him to move out on time. I calmly informed him that it was not our job to provide him with tools to move out.
He said, and I quote, “Wow, you’re a cunt.”
I did not even register what he said before he walked away. I have never been so damn insulted. I really want to chase him down and cuss him out.
Instead, the secretary in my building is hunting him down and giving him a piece of her mind.