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 |   Life is rough...I have to write it out. |
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I start blogs.....I neglect blogs....I abandon blogs. I start blogs.....I neglect blogs....I abandon blogs. I started this blog....I loved this blog....I abandoned this blog. I started this blog....I loved this blog....I abandoned this blog. I guess it is a good thing I didn't actually hold my breath. |
Day 28 Prompt:Creation Saturday! What do you think are the three most important elements of a successful blog entry? I don’t know what makes a successful blog post. This is a blog that makes it crystal clear that I don’t know how to lead a successful life, let alone a blog. I guess you would need……something to say, the ego to say it, and someone to read it. If those three stars align then the post was a success. It has fulfilled its basic purpose. I am sure there will be answers that are all about the icing on the cake but without the above three things even the flowery worded philosophies fail. Today I fail because I can’t even pass the first one. I seem to have nothing to say. Some days I miss having a job where I wear high heels all day every day. It’s odd but true. Today is one of those days. I suppose if I really wanted to I could have put on some plain little pumps, come fuck me heels, or librarian blues and gone about the daily cleaning accompanied by my sudden desire to rearrange the furniture. But I didn’t really have any that matched my pajama pants. What the fuck is up with Jenny on Call the Midwife? Why is she so love idiotic? It shines as the moment she is childish in a role requiring her to be mature. I dislike it greatly. Shows like this always make me wish I was a nun. So that’s that. I managed to get both “come fuck me heels” and “I wish I was a nun” in the same post. That has been my greatest accomplishment of the day. |
Day 27 Prompt: Funny Friday! Of all the days in the week during the 30-Day Blogging Challenge, 'Funny Friday' seems to take the most abuse. Why is that? What could make it funnier for you? Funny Friday IS awful. It takes the brunt of it because it deserves it. It is the day of the week we ask to be judged on a happiness we deem vital. Opinion Thursday – whatever. I can state my opinion and not give a damn what other people think or if they agree. Creation Saturday – that’s an easy one. I created it – like it or don’t – I didn’t create it for you. But Funny Friday. It sucks. We need laughter like we need air, even if it is more of a scoff. Even if it is only to ourselves. The things that makes us laugh are completely individualized. When I write a Funny Friday post (or let’s be honest – when I attempt to) I am showing you one of the things in life that makes more than just my face muscles smile and then asking you to feel the same, when that is not normally a priority. I mean really…how the fuck am I to make what I just wrote funny? I didn’t even remember the point of Funny Friday because I was getting a Funny Friday hatred contact buzz. I honestly have nothing even remotely funny to say. I asked Kid A to tell me something funny. I don’t even need it to apply to the rest of the post at this point. She said: What do you get when you cross a vampire with Al Capone? A fangster. A fucking Funny Friday fangster. |
Day 26 Prompt: Opinion Thursday! Florida governor Rick Scott recently banned the use of the term "climate change" in official state business, while renowned scientists are becoming increasingly concerned about it. What do you think? Should scientists stay out of politics, or are politicians doing the public a greater disservice by not acknowledging rapid and severe changes in weather patterns? Sometimes I take a prompt and I follow it. Sometimes I twist one. Sometimes I spit at the prompt and refuse to do anything more than have the slight taste in my mouth. Sometimes I sit to do one end up doing one of the others. I had an answer to this. I have galaxy sized opinions regarding caring for the earth that gave and sustains our lives. However, I have spent an entire day listening to and reading opinions of assholes on a whole other subject. A whole other type of climate change. Today in Indiana we sanctioned hatred. We can debate things like economic impact or withdrawing monetary support but that is so very far from the point. We can start there though. Currently the NCAA, which is headquartered in Indianapolis, is carefully reviewing the bill. I read the bill. Anyone who wants to be able to back the other side needed to read the bill (It’s like the Bible – I can support my anti-Bible stance because I have read the fucking thing). There is nothing to review NCAA, things are pretty clear. GenCon. Oh GenCon. How I will miss thee, yet rock on with your nerdy selves and take your nerd bucks with you. Never fuck with the nerds. As for the Indy 500…..well that’s the one. If that one is even slightly crippled….well then I think Mike Pence is gonna need to run. Run far far away. Remember when the nation had wet dreams for weeks regarding Indy's treatment of the Super Bowl? Remember that shit? The revenue from the LMFAO street concert alone…I bet they remember that. I’m thinking they should go ahead and cancel plans for future bids on that shit. Who cares how you handle the game when this is how you will handle the guests. All in all….a huge economic thumbs up on this one. But the real issue is made up of tiny things. Tiny things that should never be. Tiny things that when brought together bring about a societal climate change. Do you have any idea how many older people I have heard say how scarily similar to segregation this feels. Who fucking cares what you think about segregation. Who fucking cares what you think about slavery, reparations, white privilege or anything. The people who lived through a time in history looked upon with shame are saying that their hearts are hearkened to that time. So now there will be a sign apparently. Are you fucking kidding me???? A goddamn sign. Hanging in the window of a business that will tell us if they discriminate or not. I am baffled. But yet you don’t see the similarities between this and a….. “colored” sign over a drinking fountain? Wake the fuck up then. The bill is not exclusive to the LGBTQ community, Christians may now discriminate against whomever. And if you even begin to doubt that they will then you are so misguided. I can name ten towns within a tank of gas that might actually take this too far, my own being one of them. A facebook page for checking to see posts people put up after having a bad experience anywhere has popped up and this can either go two ways. It is a list of bigots upon whom crazies can perpetrate acts of violence and hatred, or a list of “tattle-tales” for the bigots to perpetrate acts of violence and hatred against. It is a bad bad idea. Especially in a town where people still fly confederate flags and dig their own pools. And speaking of Facebook….let’s just take a small moment to take note that if George Takei begins to publicly shame you then you have taken a serious misstep. Now a great deal of Hoosiers are angry. And I mean angry. Global warming centered over Indiana. We have chosen a division. Essentially a north and a south. Those of us who actually are all inclusive are angry for those who are now not equal. We are angry for ourselves and the position we are now put in to be included in this group by sheer loyalty and intelligence. We are furious for the principles of humanity that have just been violated. And we are ashamed of those around us. We are ashamed of our representatives. We are ashamed of our political climate, our societal climate, and our racial climate. We are ashamed of the changes that blew through and the fact that they most certainly didn’t push us forward. I am the person who will take my money elsewhere. I am the person who will spread the word. I am the person who will crusade if properly offended. I am many and I am not happy. I am also not a minority. Other than being female, I fit the bill to utilize any service or establishment that I desire. Oh wait...not so much right? I don’t believe in god. I am at different times both a “nigger lover” and a “fag lover”…so I guess it isn’t really about what behaviors go against their religious beliefs is it? I am not actually taking part in these activities. As far as I know I have been a white girl for all 36 years of my life and I am currently not engaging in any homosexual activity (applications always accepted) and yet I too am potentially unwelcome. I said Hobby Lobby was the beginning and I have yet to be proven wrong. Now – because the climate I live in is essentially one of following rules... Of course politicians should TRUST and BELIEVE things they are told from scientists because only one of those groups is educated on the subject of science. The fact that we allow a politician to be the absolute everything decision maker astonishes me right and left today. I don’t give two shits what governor, senator, congressman, or president Whomever THINK about climate change, not one of those positions was elected to neither determine nor interpret fact. You can ban whatever term you please but to think that changes…well….any fucking thing at all is ignorant. What is not ignorant is voicing responsibility. Who the fuck cares if we ARE responsible? Who the fuck cares if we aren’t? No one is going to punish us. Mother Nature maybe…but not in your fucking life. And even if you need to believe it hasn’t been something we have been steadily doing at an increasing rate, then at least explain why you would be opposed to taking measures to prevent scientifically proven damage. What is the point of taking that position? Jesus. Fuck it....does anyone have any aerosol hairspray I can haphazardly spray? I am feeling particularly clourofluorocarbony today. |
Day 25 Prompt: Do you think certain authors/writers have a particular voice? How would you describe your voice? Yes, of course writers have voices. If individual writers didn’t have individual voices then everything we read would be reminiscent of an instruction manual. The logistics of romance, the logistics of horror, the logistics of sci-fi. Can you imagine if porn had no voice? First of all, quiet sex is the worst, but more so…we do not watch porn for the logistical pleasure. A. Get out dick. B. Check to see if pussy is wet without really caring. C. Stick that bitch in. (Wait…is that too individualized?) I mean….Insert dick into pussy. D. Repeat. Boy that really turns me on. I, too, have a voice. I have many voices; one self, but many voices. I write with the voice of the average angry girl. I write with the deep timbered voice of strongly rooted self confidence. I write with the trembling voice of secrets regretfully spoken. I write with the voice of a little girl possessing an old soul. (I will let you decide if I mean I have one or have gained control of one). I wish I wrote with a more topical and relevant voice. I wish I wrote with the voice of positivity. I wish I wrote with the voice of the wise old woman possessing a young soul (again…you decide…I can go either way.) |
Day 24 Prompt: Two-fer Tuesday! This week I hate Two-fer Tuesday more than Funny Friday….and after two and a half months I think my hatred for Funny Friday has been expressed. I am sad and when I am sad I always feel extra creative. But not creativity born of itself. My sad times are the perfect times for a prompt. And yet….it is Tuesday. Fucking Tuesday. I am beginning to wonder….is there a day that I do not hate? So I think to myself…skeason…the 30DBC is not the only way to write, something you prove quite often, and even though you had to drag yourself to this computer today, you can make this happen. A couple options rose to mind and I cannot decide which path to take. I’d prefer sitting here without moving, but the brain has gotta move if the fingers are gonna. ……….Thirty minutes have passed and a great many things have been written and removed from this page. All paths have been dismissed. Prematurely I am sure, but dismissed nonetheless. As tribute to Twofer Tuesday, a thrilling thought to type this availing T and A alone…also abandoned. A prompt on the front page of WDC matched up perfectly with an item from someone’s portfolio, yet when I went looking for it….well it just seemed so hard. Husband A and I had a conversation regarding threesomes which is a twofer for one of us. Basically……sad 1, blog 0 I went and checked out
I liked it. Check it out. Review of "30 days of blogging"  |
Day 23 Prompt: Wildcard Monday! What do you think will cause the end of the Earth? I like today’s prompt. It’s very apropos. It’s an aproprompt. It has been a rough ass March. There is a Brutus in my life…March is trying to murder me. I have my issues, clearly. I have had some of these issues always, some of them since I was about 14, some of them since I was 19, and the rest were born of the union of these things. I am good at my issues. I like to let them wash over me and push me down. I am a bottom dweller because I am most comfortable with the weight of my ocean bearing down on me. Catfishin shit up right and left. Recently though, while I was down there sucking up the shit no one else wants, a new issue changed the makeup of my ocean. It is a new color, a new viscosity; the navigation has changed and darkened my path back up. It is no longer a familiar struggle to the surface….these are issues uncharted and I didn’t get to descend them in my own way. They don’t even taste right. It is easy for me to know when it is time to stop languishing down there. There is a line that I come right up to, I stand at the line and I let it mock me. I let it goad me until I no longer am certain which side of the line I desire. Then I know to turn back. This is last minute bullshit we’re talking about. There is no wiggle room, when it is time to turn back it is TIME TO TURN BACK. Only twice before, age 14 and age 19, have I steadied myself to turn back only to find I didn’t know how. It becomes a panic situation, you are already at the line, there is no room to back pedal. It’s now like drowning and it fucking sucks. I am sick of being hopeless. I am sick of being sad. I am so fucking sick of crying. I am tired as hell of having realizations. I know only what I don’t want and have not a fucking clue what it might be that I do want. I want to both hate and love those around me and I want them to take it at the same time as I am dying for them to leave. I wanna run. I did this once. I ran. I needed to escape; it ended up being a major karma is a bitch situation. This is my line that I wear thin. Most people’s rock bottom line would probably be suicide, but I was an angsty bipolar teen….been there and fucking done that shit. I can’t inflict self-suffering if I am dead, jeez. I skip-to-my-loo right past that line every time. When I want to run things are serious. Today I sat at the four way stop for an unknown amount of time…until someone honked from behind me (I live in the country, this could have easily been ten to fifteen minutes) because I was trying to decide which way to turn. Only one direction led home. What will cause the end of the earth??? Skeeter Davis It will be banged until it whimpers. It will start with an earthquake. There will be birds and snakes, an aeroplane, and Lenny Bruce will not be afraid. Crazy Christians will bring about the apocalypse because they can wait no longer to find out if they get taken in the Rapture. On a remote island somewhere there is a volcano that will not get its virgin. The Mongolians will breach the Shitty Wall. We will find out that the Mayans based their entire predictive calendar on one man. That this man had spent the night getting drunk and some new tats and the numbers he submitted were off by approximately three years. This December is really going to come out of nowhere. Just a boy and a girl won’t understand the cure. The man in black will flee across the desert. But this time the gunslinger won’t follow. A mean universal giant will kick over the turtle and while he struggles to right himself, we will roll away into nothingness. The ring will not be returned to Mordor. A rogue Smokey the Bear will change his tune. I think a zombie apocalypse would be nice but I never get what I want. |
Day 22 Prompt: The Sunday News! Pick a random article from the headlines and talk about it. Share your opinions and feelings about it. Encourage a conversation http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2015/03/22/burlgar-pocket-dials-911_n_6919046.html... This is hilarious. You know when you get a pocket dialed voice mail and you listen to the whole thing just in case something is said and you might miss it? This is also my absolute worst nightmare. When I am in my car, I check my cell phone every thirty to sixty seconds to make sure I haven’t accidentally called anyone. For that matter, I check it when it is sitting in the passenger seat in case it has magically called anyone. The things I say when I am in my car are…mine. They come from a locked place on the dark side of my soul. They are prompted out by certain songs, recent conversations, fizzling anger….whatever the motivation, they are the things that we leave unsaid for a reason. But sometimes, sometimes you need your thickest goo to be out in the universe. I have said life changing things to myself in my car. I have had realizations that clawed up through tears. I have heard my own confession on topics such as…hatred toward motherhood, toward my sister, and most certainly toward Husband A. The things I have said about Husband A…would break his heart. And the very thought of that breaks mine. But that doesn’t really change much does it? I say them because they are…..80% true. I am filled with fear the whole time that I am going to check and my mom or sister or Husband A will be listening to my “pocket dial”. The time in my life when something in line with this article could have happened to me was a different time (and bread was a nickel and we Flintstoned our cars to 14 hours days at work.) I have had way too many conversations in my car that I would never ever want the cops to have been listening to. This blog post woulda started much differently. *Keepin’ it short today guys. I only have ten credits and I still need toothpaste from the commissary.* But there weren’t cell phones then and so the cops actually had to catch us doing the things we were doing. These idiots though…they pocket dialed 911. How in the fuck does that happen? Have YOU ever butt dialed 911? Why wasn’t it their mothers or each other? 911?? Really?? I have never called the numbers 9, 1, and 1 in my life….so far; knock on wood…let alone on accident. I AM the jerk in the car who would want to verbally go over the plan though.  |
Day 21 Prompt: Creation Saturday! Tell us about your alter-ego. My alter-ego. Hmmm. She is a wonderful mixture of my wants and inabilities. She is fun to be but not for long. No Noise Nelly She silently sits in the darkened corners. She only observes and never interferes. She hardly ever has opinions and even when she does they never get a voice. She blends into the background absolutely everywhere. If she can be coaxed out then all she ever does is agree with everyone. She does a ton of nodding. She is very well liked though and has a ton of people who call her their friend (you know how people loooove the ones who always consent) This is due to how nice it is to be around her. How at ease she makes everyone feel. She exudes content which causes general cheer. Even in the moments when I long to become her again for whatever purpose….well…even in those moments I think she sucks. |
Day 20 Prompt: Funny Friday! There is something in the air that is making everyone in the vicinity laugh uncontrollably. Write an anecdote, a story or a poem about it. What are these stupid bubbles floating about? When they pop I hear people’s happy shouts. Laughter and joy; fun and merriment galore, Is THAT what these fucking things are for? Who would fill the skies with such stupid shit? Don’t they know THIS is as happy as I am gonna get? Spring is a lion; she comes in with a roar, Screw these delicate bubbles….please…no more! Prismed spheres filled with fucking happy dust, They fill me with slight resentment and much disgust. I will only laugh when the last one is gone, I can’t stand the mirth of all these morons. |
Day 19 Prompt: Opinion Thursday! This week a high school in Western New York voted to no longer use the term "Redskins" as their mascot, because it is considered racially insensitive to Native Americans. There were strong arguments from both sides...some see the name as maintaining tradition and local pride, while others believe using an offensive name sends the wrong message to those who represent the school district. How responsible is a school in regards to establishing and maintaining a healthy relationship within its community? Hmmm. This one is tricky. I fall on both sides of the fence here…my mascot is Humpty Dumpty. For starters, no, you clearly cannot have mascots that utilize the idea that one can make another feel like less. Part of me wants to say that overreaction is the current fad way of being self-actualized. We decide we know ourselves so well that we can have hyper realistic reactions to any situation we choose and demand fulfillment. We are not required to satisfy each other, nor are we owed satisfaction. Having an emotional reaction to something non-visceral does not entitle you to…well…anything at all. You are owed nothing at all, ever. You can earn things, you can deserve things, but no one is owed anything. I hate the current attitude of entitlement running rampant among us all. I do not think this type of thing falls into the above category though. I don’t feel it is a simple overreaction. We say all kinds of big dick things like…land of the free and melting pot bullshit…but to America those things are mutually exclusive. Because you can come here, and you can do it in search of the freedoms we falsely advertise, but you can’t actually have them. You can get close; you can actually obtain the rights you seek. But we, as a country, have chosen to be largely represented by people who will then label you a….redskin, chink, spic, nigger, fag, wop, or a million other hugely insulting, denigrating, and uneducated words. And we, as a country, have decided to allow this representative group to use these labels to promote an atmosphere of hierarchy. It is shameful. Welcome to our stew pot of shame, please marinate with us until our acidity makes you feel the same. Why in the fuck would we find it even slightly acceptable to recreate this foolish societal temperature within our learning institutions? Sure sure…go ahead student body and humorously wear, incorrectly, things and ideas that are sacred to a group of people. Or please, wrongly attribute things to a culture to perpetuate a false notion of incivility. Do this as an entire group. Do it as a party. Do it often. Do it twenty years from now when you cannot let things go and find yourself chanting during the recanting of your glory days to the next generation. If you learn anything of value at college here in America, other than a myriad of drinking games, it most certainly should be an air of prejudiced superiority. What two better ways can you think of to represent the effort we put into our educational system? And to add to it all…na na na boo boo….they were here first. WE were the intruders. And as a small afterthought, since it doesn’t really apply to the situation mentioned in the prompt. … as far as the question: “How responsible is a school in regards to establishing and maintaining a healthy relationship within its community?” …I strongly believe, and I will never waiver, that the constructs used by society to frame the behaviors which are acceptable and which are not ARE the constructs which we go to school to learn. We go to school to learn academics of course, but so often the socialization aspect of school has the spotlight. If an institution uses tuition money to fund educational avenues that lead to bigots in gowns, then yes they are quite responsible for the bigotry that remains in their community, the bigotry fostered by those within the community who desire to attend said university, and the bigotry held without reason, other than distant loyalty, within the alumni community. If it is a publicly funded institution then we are responsible for that. If a student attends said institution by choice, without holding said prejudices, than they, too, are responsible. Take it from me….as one little voice of reason against a community held bias…the quietly submissive are just are responsible, even for the education of our children. *There was a joke to be made in this post somewhere about …children watching you…cornfields…Isaac and Malaki….but I am too lazy to make it. |
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