Lone Ranger

Another day of contemplation and no action. I think I need a date and some sex. Maybe just a date, or maybe just some sex. Or, maybe I need to get drunk or high. I need to go back to some of my self destructive habits. I know I haven't given up the fiscal irresponsibility which provided me with little highs of happiness with purchases. However when I shop it doesn't make me laugh till my guts hurt.

Honestly I haven't had a really good laugh in a long time. I've had some little laughs and chuckles here and there but nothing where I choke, sputter and pee my pants. Man oh man, the good old days!

Speaking of peeing my pants... I need to test my bladder surgery/sling thing. A good laugh would be a great test.

I tell you this delusional world I live in is so real to me. There are times when the world is crashing in on me, then suddenly the sun comes out and I think it will be ok. Ok, that is, until the next bill arrives then the cycle starts all over again. Talk about peaks and valleys!

Someone to watch over me

I need a guiding hand. One that will take mine and guide me to the areas of change that have to occur. He would be my change agent. I can't think straight, I am all over the place, my brain tells me something, my body does something different. Nothing has changed since yesterday. No movement on my part to meet with the bank to try and negotiate. I haven't shut down my cable or phone. I walk through my day scared shitless of the phone ringing, that someone will actually get through. I try to do things that are productive. I should be at the bank, I should be applying for jobs, I should be in counseling. I should be screaming at the top of my lungs what a fuck up I am.

Oh well... What can I do... pills are washed down my throat and my pillow is calling.

My Great Escape

If you really love me. won't you tell me. If really need me, won't you tell me, than I won't have to be hanging around. When your mood is clear than you quickly change your ways. (these were words of a song I happened to be listening to,no hidden message or blatant one for that matter)

My point exactly! (it will never make sense)

Exxon Mobile posts biggest US quarterly profit ever

comforting

I needed a more comforting visual for my blog/journal/thoughts and words. I needed something easy on my eyes and one that made me want to participate. I am testing this one today. Yesterday was a hard day. I don't see today as much better. The weather is beautiful, a perfect fall day. I am going to try and occupy myself with busy work. Work that makes my mind think of 'shoes and ships and sealing wax, of cabbages and kings and why the sea is boiling hot and whether pigs have wigs' (sweet words from a sweet story).

Rock Bottom?

I may have finally fallen into the depths of "rock bottom". My 90 day supply of sleeping pills keeps calling my name, keeps reminding me over and over that I am in a hole so deep I will never get out, there's no one for me at the top anyway, just stay, just sleep, it will all go away. Oh how I am drawn to his logic, it makes so much sense. This life provides me nothing but challenge, sadness and a sense of worthlessness I can seem to get past. My "friends" only hurt me, maybe they are slights that aren't intentional, they are imagined only in my mind. No matter they are real to me. I have a sad daughter, now a sad son and a very very angry ex that is making threats to take me back to court, rightfully so. I have not been paying him money for my son that lives with him. For 3 years I was steady eddie, paid the phone bill, all of the kids school costs, clothes and 600 on top of that to him. This past year I am drowning in debt. I can't even make my minimum payments and I am sinking lower and lower. I can't answer my phone, services are getting cut off and I am slowly turning into mush. Unable to cope, think, move one foot in front of the other. I am just waiting for it all to come crashing, swallowing me whole. Everyone would be so much better off, dead mom is worth more than a live one. And the live one was more depressed than anyone can handle. Let's get past me so they can get on with their lives.

Cleaning frenzy for the socially inept

My child was spending the week-end with a new beau (just one of a few) and I am home alone. Rather than an adventure that might make millions at the theaters, I have been cleaning like a fool.

Carpet cleaning, upstairs, downstairs even the stairs themselves. I almost went for the upholstery but I ran out of time. I have to work in the morning so I need to rest for a little while.

I tried to be social on Friday, went to a happy hour with some work folks. I am so out of touch with the real world. My people contact is limited to work and running through grocery aisles. I avoid eye contact and mumble my words to those that I have to talk to.

I am beginning to scare myself with the lonerness that I am imposing on myself. I used to embrace just me myself and I. I would relish my time alone and enjoy my peace and quiet.

Now I find myself afraid of social situations. Afraid that I will say what I really want to say to people that I don't really want to talk to in the first place. The older I get the less control I have of my tongue. If it's ugly and stinks I will say so, not thinking that it might hurt. Yet I am incredibly sensitive to others comments, I find slight where none is intended.

If I were to win the lottery (granted I would have to buy a ticket first) I would want to buy a deserted island and have a pilot fly in every so often to bring me supplies (and maybe a conversation, but only with the pilot).

The dog messed up my bed

He got a bath, lost his mind and tore up my made bed. He is a monster! If he wasn't so cute, and didn't have sweet moments I think I would hold his head under the water with a smile on my face.

Just a pretty sunrise from my back deck.

Story of the day:

I wish you could have been there for the sun & the rain & the long, hard hills. For the sound of a thousand conversations scattered along the road. For the people laughing & crying & remembering at the end. But, mainly, I wish you could have been there.

Or, in my words:

If wishes were horses, I would have a barn full and you would take me out to dinner again.

I'm finding that this outlet for me is really an outlet for messages. Messages that I don't want to put in emails. Messages I need to have read and remembered.

My friend is a writer...

a master of words. He's thoughtful, eloquent, descriptive and funny. I miss his pen to paper to computer, words. He would tantalize and tease me when he was writing. Set up a title, describe the events, send me a paragraph, leaving me with bated breath hoping for more. Wishing he would hurry and finish his latest D tale.

He didn't write erotica, or exotic tales, he wrote what he lived, from his heart. He would read me excerpts, his voice giving in to the meaning these stories had for him. He would call from his desk at Caribou (his favorite scribing place), describe his surroundings, his latest idea, or his last paragraph.

I loved the thought of him writing in his notebooks, highlighting what he wanted to remember, reading, rewriting, revamping. He showed me his notebooks once, they were so full of words, every line, front and back pages, filled with words, little pictures to remind him of placement. I want to read all of them, carefully examine his handwriting, look for little spots of coffee, blood, sweat , tears, fingerprints, any signs of the man whose words I was reading.

I want to tell you how careful he is with his words. There are never too many, never over the top, always just right. You can never scan his words, you will miss something. You will miss something important to his story. Sometimes I think he is too careful, I want him to linger over the pictures he is painting in my mind, make the sky a little bluer, the man a little taller, the sea a little deeper.

I'm waiting for him to go back to his entertaining of me, with his pen to paper to computer, words. My friend is a writer of words that were meant for me.

Something from an old time movie

We've been watching a lot of scary old (50's-60's) scary movies. They always seem to involve some old town, a beautiful old house and very scary people. I discovered I could take sepia pictures on my camera. This reminded me of one of the old movies. I was hoping to find a ghostly couple swirling in the band shell, but it's empty.

Color daydream

Spencer and Grover were in my dream

Quaint and lovely and I wanna live there

Spencer and I were driving around today. We found a little town close to mine that had a gazebo/bandhsell in a small park. The downtown was a street with most of the businesses closed. One gas station and a church, no visable bars so I'm assuming it's a God fearing place. Funny thing is I was recently asking a friend if he thought there were any towns left that had the town square, the bandshell, the little town feel. And here I find one today.

The Pooch

This is the dog that makes me say "God Damn it, quit biting my ankles!"

"YIKES"

Exclaimed the crazy woman.

sweet/funny, kinda

Hole in his Heart
He has a hole where his heart used to be because it fell out when he was running from scary things one night in a dream & it hurts all the time now & he doesn't know how to fix it & sometimes I think he doesn't even remember that it's gone.

I get daily (that's what they say anyway, sometimes days are skipped) StoryPeople stories (mini stories). This was todays. If you replaced he with she it would be about me. So... let's do that.

Hole in Her Heart
She has a hole where her heart used to be because it fell out when she was running from scary things one night in a dream & it hurts all the time now & she doesn't know how to fix it & sometimes I think she doesn't even remember that it's gone.

There, now it's all about me, as it should be.

I want to post funny stupid things but I let my life get in the way. I want to highlight my highlights, focus on funnies, stretch stories. I can't I can't find anything good in my life right now. Nothing at all.

Seriously...

What am I supposed to do? Emotionally, mentally and financially I am bankrupt. I am losing everything that I thought was important to me. And I am losing people that I thought I was important to. Times of trouble and flight is fancied.

I am sick of people and their lies. Their manipulations of others for their own personal gain. Whether it's the comfort of phone calls, the thought that someone loves them even though they are comfortably happy with their lives. They feel the need to continue to drag me around, rubbing my face in the dirt then making me feel responsible for feeling like shit.

I guess I am responsible. I could walk away, I could say "no more". I feel like I have become this pathetic lonely old woman that is so dependant on a voice for my comfort, that even with the pain that accompanies it, the tears, the anger, I can't let go. I keep coming back to see how low I can go. I am not worthy of someone so incredibly selfish he laughs at my fears, belittles my emotions, is flippant of the hurt he inflicts.

I am such an idiot, he tells me he has a "happy ending", I am just something he likes but has no respect for and really could give a shit what happens to me. He got his life all tied up in a pretty bow.

What makes me so angry, for those of you that haven't been following my pathetic life, is how long he led me on, how many years he would say, "never say never", give me little glimpses of something so wonderful I was convinced he was for me and I him. I wanted me to be his happy ending, I was convinced I was his happy ending. 3 years of thinking of "me for him", only to be told "oh by the way I am fully committed to another, we've been together a long time , she is my happy ending".

But hey "let's be friends". He lied to me, he lied for 3 years about so many things that I totally bought into. Yet he thinks we were never serious anyway, we met on the net, nothing is ever real on the net. So what's the big deal, seriously?

I wanted to be friends, I wanted to hear his voice his thoughts, anger, song, joke. I wanted to continue to think his happiness was because of me. Knowing the reality is I have nothing to do with his happiness, his happy ending is successful in that aspect of his life,

I guess I was kinda like the spare tire. When the real one got flat, until it got fixed the spare came into play, when the real one is fixed the spare is put back in it's place till needed again.

I still care for you... how do I stop... seriously...

put your hand in the hand...

of the man who calmed the sea...

sea=me

Ok, fine

That last post seems a little juvenile. Not enough that I'm going to remove, I'm just going to admit to my immature thinking.

I don't really believe in true love. I think true love is only a story to be read in books, watched in movies or dreamed about.

I believe in feelings that can't be explained, they can't be written, can't be seen, only felt.

If they are mutual it's even better. If they are admitted to, it's the best.

Trust My Instincts

mmmm....

Ok, I will trust my instincts. I believe in true love and it's there, unfortunately it's star crossed.

WOW! This was easy, or, I'm really smart

I'm gonna miss my Comic Sans font, other than that...

I GUESS I'M HOME MA!!!!

It will take a little getting used to. But... I am ready for change.

BRING IT ON!!!

Home Repairs

Before

After

Let's hope it works!!

aoljpictureUpload, aoljpictureUpload_1

My sister?!

The longer my daughter is here with me the more I feel like my older sister. She is 14 years older than I am, she has been on her own (kinda) for a million years. She has terminal cancer and is going through her second round of chemo.

I am like her in how I look, my thoughts, my actions, my sound, my life. I am alone, can't imagine ever finding anyone that I want to have a long term relationship with (well... I thought I did, unfortunately he was already taken). I'm thinking there will never be another body in my bed again that isn't covered in fur and wags his tail when he's happy (or hungry, playful, bored, sleepy etc...).

For the most part I'm ok with that. I'm ok with myself. Then I think about getting older, being alone, turning into a total hermit. Is that really ok? Is there something terribly wrong with me that there isn't someone that wants to spend time with me? Am I making excuses for my aloneness because I don't want to face the facts?

My sister lived with me for a short time after her first round of chemo. She reminded me of my mom (what I remember of my mom). She seemed defeated in so many ways. Depressed, tired, unmotivated, just wanted the whole thing (life) over. Yikes. Then her son decided to get married and have a baby, she bounced back. She was excited about life again.

My mom was the same way when she was ill. After her first diagnosis of congestive heart failure she was defeated, tired and wanted the whole thing over. Then babies started coming, 3 in a row, one was mine. She bounced back. It didn't last very long but the bounce was great for the time it lasted.

Ok, so where does this make me seem like my sister? I don't know, my wrinkled skin, my teeth that are deciding they need major work, my body drying up of any type of desire. Oh and my facial expressions!

OMG! The looks I get on my face, I can feel my eyes squinting, my lips pursing, and my head shaking in disappointment or disbelief (depending on the issue). I know my lips are moving but I hear my sisters voice and her words. Suddenly I am obsessed with the world and watching MSNBC, CNN, Week in Washington the NEWS for Gods sake! Since when did I start caring about the world (ok the USA more so then the whole world)?

I wish she would come stay with me again. I think I would appreciate her more. Her thoughts (which I thought were a little wacky), her words. I would stop being so judgemental and respect her life experience, her knowledge, she is a smart cookie.

I should send her a note.