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Dear Diary: meh!

so i guess i want to share something that i’ve been going through.  and maybe there are people out there who won’t understand what i’m saying, or haven’t been through what i’m going through.   but i just feel like i really need to talk about this…

see, i still have my heater on.  now you people in Florida and Hawaii and probably Tahiti, you don’t understand this situation, but i’ll try to explain it at its base.  IT’S STILL FRAKIN’ COLD IN MICHIGAN!!! what the hoop?  it’s SPRING!!! it’s APRIL!!!  there are supposed to be rain showers making a nice batch of flowers ready for show, and i have to put on my gloves when i drive home from work!!!!

picture of crappy michigan season unsprung by author

picture of crappy michigan season unsprung by author

bleh.  i wonder if Michigan has a higher percentage of alcoholics than the rest of the US?  cause whiskey does wonders for warming you up, but guess what?   SO WOULD THE SUN!

super special grumpy gills

Today has been a bust so far.

photo by denelle hobbs

photo by denelle hobbs

i woke up with the roosters because i have a mess in my mouth.  my tooth has convinced itself that its having a mental breakdown, so i drove out to a clinic this morning, where you can sort of sit around and HOPE that someone else calls to cancel their appointment.  of course, that didn’t happen, AND i forgot some paperwork i needed, and on the way home from this non-appointment i drove my car into a curb.  CURBY!!

then had to drop off some items at the library drop box – which almost ate my arm off – and of course i had them – WHERE do you think?  in the back seat.  so i’m out of my seat belt, emergency brake on since i’m driving stick, and leaning over backwards to get these bloody books, almost pop my spine out, almost have my hand removed, then drive off with my brake still on!

now to call a mysterious company that is phoning me at work, at the wrong number, and i don’t know what it’s about.  i go to the website info they left, which looks shady as all get out, and when i call the woman wants my social security number right over the phone.  hmmmm…so after i try to get some information from her she says – very authoritatively, mind you – well i told you i’m Christy from Such-and-Such.  oh good!  that’s MUCH better, here is my life savings along with the keys to my home, car, and the safety deposit box.  come on over any time!  and by the way, why don’t you send some nice black flowers to my ex-boyfriend in my name on my credit card, while you are sending me off to the poor house.

oh wait, i already seem to live there!

ugh.  this day should have been spent in bed.

SINuses

I think the tissue companies created allergies.  i’m pretty sure back in the victorian ages there weren’t allergies.  if something upset your sinuses or tickled your throat, i’m fairly certain it went straight to Tuberculosis or the Bubonic Plague.  none of this pussy-footing around with runny noses and scratchy throats and voices that sound like you are running a late night love-line talk radio program.  tickle, scratch, nose turns black and falls off; that’s how it used to be.

product & image by MyMidnightDesigns on etsy.com

product & image by MyMidnightDesigns on etsy.com

of course now that we have ’tissue’ companies, and all those fancy fun boxes of fluffy white, well it seems like everything around can make you sick; dogs, cats, horses, dust, fake Scotch tape that never works as good as the real stuff.  grrrrr…

photo by Char

photo by Char; previously sold on ‘oodle’

i guess i could just blame it on winter.  or better yet, that stupid groundhog who never does what he is told.

double grrrr….

image and product by  wasp42608 on etsy.com

image and product by wasp42608 on etsy.com

grrr football

well it’s thursday, and there’s a football game tonight.  so what will happen?  will referees be attacked by angry men in sweatshirts?  will indecision and lack of communication decide another win for a team that maybe didn’t really do what they got credit for?  (sorry Seattle, you know i love you).   or will fans start to boycott this mess and leave the multi-million dollar stands completely empty, like an old Roman arena that once was great and full of competition, but then someone decided, “hmmmm…feeding random people to lions is just really droll.  let’s have them fight to the death instead!”

it’s not like i’m going to say anything that hasn’t already been said continually for the last 72 hours straight.  but i’m going to say it anyway, because this is my blog and i can do that.

GET THIS SHIT FIGURED OUT, NFL.

this is ridiculous.  maybe the NFL proper is all about money, and making more of it, and profits, and money and cash.  but WHERE do they think all that money comes from?  SURPRISE, IDIOTS!  THE FANS!  if the fans, and the commentators, and the experts, analysts, reporters, players, coaches, and medics are all angry and upset about a situation, i’m thinking you need to address that situation.

am i crazy here?  (don’t answer that, we already know that answer)   yes you may have the almighty dollar as your bottom line, but you won’t be getting those magical monies if you piss off everyone that has said dollars in their pockets.

GET YOUR HEADS OUT OF YOUR ASSES AND BRING BACK THE REGULAR OFFICIALS.  how many people have to say it to make it enter your fat skulls?

the devil inside

we all have a little of the dark in us i guess.  last night while i was lying on my heated massage table, my next door neighbor was outside in his car, playing ‘tunes’.  he does this all the time.  perhaps he’s gotten into a fight with his wife, so he goes into the car and blares his music.  maybe he’s in there getting high, as he frequently does.  maybe he’s just trying to pop the eardrums of unsuspecting locals.  the boom boom of his choice of music echoes through his vehicle loudly enough that it shakes the windows of my house.

it’s kind of hard to be in a peaceful, restful state when it sounds like a sledge hammer is taking down your walls.

at about this point last night the dark in me rose up.  i lay on the massage table imagining ways that i could kill my neighbor; electrical shock from his own stereo would be the most poetic, but probably not an easy task to arrange.  if i were a vampire i could drink him dry, but i don’t think i’d want to get that close to him, he’s been kind of sour lately.

at first this kind of thinking made me feel uncomfortably wrong.  we are taught that good girls don’t do those kind of things, and that thinking a bad thought is as bad as doing it.  but eventually i just accepted the fact that i was pissed, and irritated that he is so continuously rude (this family also forgets that their car stereo is on “blast” when they start it at 5 am with the auto starter, and leave it running for ten minutes).  despite the reality that i’ve been trained to squish away these kind of thoughts, or that sending negative vibes to another will bring bad to me threefold, it seemed to make me feel better.  imagining him injured didn’t help, but ALLOWING myself to imagine, and then ACCEPTING and ACKNOWLEDGING these thoughts and feelings released my tension and anxiety.

and then, his music stopped.

life is maybe less about trying to make things happen, and make the right decisions, and more about going with the flow and admitting that you are still a little beast here and there.

Friendly Chatty People – Beware

 

So today is one of those days. A day where I am moody, grumpy, foul and sinister. Or, well potentially sinister. It’s all in your head, really, but my head is grumpy.
Why do friendly people pounce on you on days like today? I mean, I’m happy enough. I’m a happy type of person. It’s not like every day is a party or a praise fest, but I’m a happy enough person. I’m a complete romantic, I’m totally idealistic and naive in a great many ways. I try to love my fellow man, and I’ve been told I have a tender heart a number of times.

Still, I’m a surly little cur on a fairly regular basis.

Why can’t happy annoying people pick this up and leave you alone when you are like this?

I’m not good with small talk. I like good conversations, about real stuff. I don’t want to hear about how you cooked your dinner last night or how many times your daughter spit up on you. Well, it’s not that I DON’T want to hear these things. I don’t actually mind what the topic of conversation is, but I hate little chit chat in the office. Let me do my fucking work. I mean, I don’t mind talking here and there, but non-stop girly chatter makes me crazy.

Now, if you were talking about comic books, or Spike TV, or action figures, maybe I wouldn’t mind as much. But no, there are just days when I don’t feel like being grossly social like most gabby chatty women are supposed to be. Why can’t women understand that I am not like them?

Ok, and even if they can’t figure out that I am not like them, because they didn’t happen to notice that I wear cat ears I bought at Hot Topic, or they didn’t notice that I dress like a tomboy half the time, or they didn’t notice that I never go to any of the social activities they arrange where everyone’s family can meet everyone else’s family, can’t they at least tell from my face that I am not sociable on certain days?

I’m fairly certain that my cross, grumpy, sour face today should have made it plain to anyone with eyeballs that you don’t want to talk to me today. What is the deal?

I think I’m going to have to create my own beauty pageant banner to wear, that says “Leave Her the Fuck Alone”. Maybe that will get the hint across.

(addendum: some people are ok to approach me. the people i really like. the rest of everybody should note the banner. approach with caution if you are not a lover or bestest friend)