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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 16 Prompt: I saw a local newspaper ad today for a shop named: The Broom Closet, it's described as a witchcraft supply store. I've never heard of such a shop before, and I'm intrigued. Would you go visit such a shop? Why or why not. - Bonus Question: Do you know of, or have an idea for a unique, or trendy shop? I love the little stores like that. They are plentiful here. Well, plentiful might be a bit of an exaggeration, but I can list at least four within 30 miles…. They are great places to get actual herbs. And anything socially divisive which we know I enjoy. They are also great places to get any sort of item that expresses spirituality without the word GOD all over it. If a connection to something…..anything…. larger than ourselves is desired without calling it Jesus or Allah or even Buddha then these are places to go. Now, here where I am located…. these places are not run by cool “witches” talking about their “covens”…no no….here we employ dirty left over hippies to run these places. Kinda like our head shops. And there is nothing wrong with a hippie (nor a head shop.) Trust me – if you knew my real name you would understand that there is some hippie coursing through my veins. BUT I mean some dirty ass hippies. Talking about “needing to get in touch with the goddess” and “get in sync with the earth…man” type of hippies. Long robe type dresses and symbol necklaces clanging around their necks. Approaching you with a crystal to purge your aura while you wonder if this dude has washed his hair in the past two months. It’s awesome. Kid A adores these stores. She likes to read about the stones and crystals and the benefits they may or may not give and then choose some. Because, yes Kid A, that little black one will indeed force Juliana to shut her fucking mouth. Or maybe it will make you feel like she has and you are not required to listen to it – whatever – they both work for me. We go there and buy crystal placebos and they work. These are not popular places. If you go into these places around here you garner a reputation. You are damned. The people around here think that if you walk through the door to a little witchy shop then you are lost forever to the Satanists. Because Wiccan = Satanist. We don’t educate ourselves before we spit our foolish opinions out with our chew. Kid A and I, go in these stores and we, in fact, do come back out. We come out calmer and filled with a feeling of serenity. We come out of these places with bags filled with the feeling that we can make positive changes, bags filled with the idea that we have a little control over the flow of our lives. There is nothing wrong with that. No to mention….I KNOW this is a small fucking town – but why the hell do you know everywhere I have been? What do you mean you saw me go in that place? What were you doing? Sniping out the Satan store? Go on in – Kid A will show which crystal to buy to calm your ass the fuck down. Bonus question: We did this sorta in January and after having a lovely day with Husband A, I wrote about a store where a man could go to get a goddamn clue. (I started looking back for this entry at January 24th. It was from the 11th. It took way too long. Way too long. Why do people think bumpkinland doesn’t need fast internet?) Now….a monthish later, I am in the same place, though… not still but again) with Husband A. Only this time I am gonna switch it up. Poor blog beaten Husband A always gets the short end of the writing stick. (It balances out – ask me – I can convince you that you want nothing at all to do with me!) So this time I will write about a store where good ole skeason could get a clue. And since my husband and I have basically merged into one giant shitty person, the setting shall remain the same….. The lights dim... The camera pans in on small city. The theme music (something dainty like a flute) begins and we zoom in on one particular store. It's fucking beautiful but we can't quite pinpoint why. The door opens, and instead of a smiling face, there stands.....Husband A, rolling his eyes. Welcome to "skeason” Here we stock five and only five items, but worry not my dear friend, for while we may not have what you seek, we do have what you need. Oh I’m sorry…you say you are sick of being in charge of every single little thing? Well we have this needle and thread here. They come with a suggestion. Give Husband A his balls back. After systematically taking them away for twenty years, you have now created this situation about which you cannot shut your fucking whiny ass face. You carry your own balls around, and you never hesitate to show them since they are so much bigger than most people’s, but that doesn’t mean you need your husband to know that yours are bigger, badder, and hang much lower. Let him take that shit back. Look in aisle two….these things are called pans. No, no, that one is a pot. I would have thought you would remember that from the time when you actually fed your family. You put things in here and heat them up. A reaction creates a whole other thing that you turn into a meal. Your family then sits down and eats it. This way you can shut the fuck up about how no one ever eats together anymore and how Kid A eats the same four fucking things on rotation. YOU can fix these things. Do so. Here we have a martyr statue. Definitely made for you. After all…..this way we will no longer have to hear about how when you are sick your life goes on. How you don’t get to lie down and rest or play on your phone. How the children still need fed and washed and attention paid to them. How no one takes care of you. Hey look at this…this one already has your name engraved on it. And finally, I think you will definitely want one of these.....have you ever seen a violin so tiny? Better take it now because really....that's all the fuck anyone gives about your crying. Thanks for shopping here I guess, really doesn't matter to us. Wait! I almost forgot.... before you leave make sure to check out one last item. It is simply a must have…especially for you. In fact we have had many requests to specially make a new one of these for you. True, you already have one but it is getting so old and no one wants to hear it anymore. So give it some thought, and then speak to us in one of these NEW tones. And Bonus opinion: Wow. I drown in shit for two days and something goes wild. While I have absolutely nothing to say about anyone’s specific opinion regarding Brother Joel and his challenge(s)….ha ha ha I think that is an obvious lie….I am just gonna put my own out there. Take it; leave it, as always I don’t care. When we all I signed up for this challenge, there was nothing but clarity as to how it would work. It was a fund-raising, elimination style challenge. He even said to think along the lines of Celebrity Apprentice. To me that means that I may give funds. Do I have a lot? No! I am a WDC newbie and for someone who loves stats……the fact that I have written for decades doesn’t mean shit to my little recognition number nor my gp’s. Signing up meant I was agreeing to raise funds and possibly give them. He issued a challenge which was more than likely meant to bring together the teams to pool funds into a heavy hit. That is not what happened, and from our individual communications I can see that is not what some people wanted. When it did start to happen…..well, all that actually happened was that his challenge was finally being fulfilled. If I run out of gps and am eliminated or cannot participate because I cannot contribute what I need to, then I am eliminated. It is an unofficial fun challenge. Jesus. I told my husband when I read it that some of these people are gonna be able to drop a dime’s worth of gps and it would seem like a fortune to me. But it’s a game and games have rules. Brother Nature   has restraint because Donald would be having none of it.  And now to complete a long ass blog entry …..
Today my neighbor came over to ask me to have Kid A stop playing her music so loud. Sorry. No. It is noon. She is gonna do as she pleases within our four little brick walls. I am so very sorry that you are trying to hang out in your garage while it is -3 degrees so you can drink the day away…but she isn’t turning anything down. Yes, I am aware that when my grandparents lived in this house they never blasted music like this. Yes, I am aware that when my grandparents did play music it was of a very different caliber. Louis Armstrong fan Kid A is not. Too bad. I can’t even imagine what the neighbors at our previous home thought. Where we were stacked on top of each other in little flimsy homes. P.S. You know how you put your trash bags filled with vodka and whisky bottles down at the end of my driveway every Thursday so you don’t have to pay for trash service? Yeah….could you turn down the volume on those clanking bottles please? Oh no? Well then I think you have my answer as well. Go back home. I do understand that this may not be the most appropriate song for Kid A to be listening to. Let me think for a minute…..yeah that’s right…..your little dick had absolutely nothing to do with making this baby, and so now your mouth has absolutely nothing to do with raising her. Oh, I am sorry did you say something? I couldn’t here you over the sound of my hateful thoughts. Oh …it isn’t loud enough? Turn it the fuck up? No problem. So let’s descend into the land of shitty neighbors (me not him) and crappy neighborhoods filled with old people….. and in honor of Kid A and her very favorite song…turn the shit up. [Embed For Use By Upgraded+] |
Day 15 Prompt: Tell me why you should stay in this competition. Why should I stay in the competition? I don’t know. What would happen if I was eliminated and then just stalked the group and board and posted a daily prompt anyway? What if I just went about my business as if I wasn’t eliminated? If I continued to spread joy and happiness like fertilizer? After all….when your days are gloomy and gray I think I have proven that I am the clear choice to go to for a little uplifting optimism. A little dose of hope and motivation. What would any competition be without that one person who refuses to bow to emotional pressure and instead stands firm in the face of life? Oh fuck, we are talking about me aren’t we? Well in that case…… I should stay in the competition because this is the only place in this little life that I am not required to perform. These blogging competitions are my daily escape to a place where the people are only sort of real, where no one is asking me to wipe their ass, and where ideas fly around so thick, you don’t even have to try to catch one. Despite a three day absence (involving my sadness and another person’s sudden diarrhea…..maybe not the go spend time with your family edict Brother Joel was talking about,) I am a willing teammate who will contribute all that I can. I love the prompts. I do not even try to decide what I will write about until I see the prompts. True…..there are many many times I push the prompt to the edges of what it could represent…..but hey…definition of prompt and all. This is a shitty ass answer. I know it. You know it. I know you know it. I am not the “sell yourself” type of girl and so I find that I don’t really even know how to do that. Maybe I should mark prices down.
Today I heard No Surrender by Bone Thugs n Harmony. Oh the many stoner ways we loved Bone. Oh the many ways. Sometimes you hear music and you know that if you could turn it up loud enough you would be transported. To a time, to a place, to a thought. I want to hear Bone Thugs n Harmony in the dark, very loud, high…and most importantly in the car. I want to go back to the time where my relationship was a crush and my habits were heavy. When life was different – it wasn’t quite grown up yet. It was closing in on that corner. And every once in a while we peeked around and saw that adult bullshit looming, but for that moment we were still basically responsibility free. Never mind school in the morning, that we just spent our lunch and gas money on weed, or that we were driving around under the influence. Except one song. And it really isn’t Bone Thugs n Harmony. It is Mo Thugs – but it contains half the BTnH guys and so I always think of them together. And this one …need not be in the dark. Need not be in the car. It can clearly, CLEARLY, be enjoyed anywhere, anytime. I mean come on. The philosophical lyrics? The thought provoking commentary on the societal mores of the Old West? Five lines about bushes?? You can’t ask for much more. You just can’t. So let’s descend into old-school hood rat behavior – it’s the most fun anyway. [Embed For Use By Upgraded+] |
Day 14 Prompt: young love Kid A has a boyfriend right now. A fiance, but seven year old semantics and all. I find that my reaction is not as expected. No wait, it IS what I expected but seems to not be what everyone else expected. I am at the school a lot. I see them together. I base my opinion on a foundation of knowledge that BOTH comes from first hand knowledge as well as growing the fucking kid inside my body. This is a foundation of knowledge that you just don't possess. Sorry. I just can't help you with that. Now. I am not super mom. I am not everywhere all of the time and I am not the only mom who is there a lot. Although I can tell you that I am there enough to call bullshit on your schedule. But none of that matters.....let's look at some simple observations..... 1. Fiance A is so goddamn cute. Literally. This poor mom. She might be an early grandma. Not with Kid A, I promise. 2. Kid A and her fiance walk everywhere together. Beside each other. They don't talk. 3. Kid A is experiencing some separation anxiety all of a sudden. When I was there last and she started to get upset, suddenly Fiance A was there, at the end of the line. He said nothing. He didn't get near her. But he was there. 4. Wednesday he called her princess. She melted. She melts when she tells us about it. 5. Kid A and her fiance sit together everywhere. They sit beside each other with their own friends on either side. They don't talk. 6. Fiance A and Contender A had a "battle" at recess for Kid A. Contender A got punched in the face and told he needed to leave Kid A alone. Now let's look at some simple FACTS about these observations.... 1. Kid A thinks a great many people are cute. 2. Kid A may walk down the hallway at school with whatever child she chooses. 3. Kid A has, among others, this child in her class who is concerned enough about her sadness that he wants to reassure her with his presence. 4. She is so emotionally happy for a moment it cannot be contained. 5. Kid A may sit by whatever child she chooses. 6. Seven year old boys shouldn't be punching each other over a girl. Now just a couple OPINIONS about these observations.... 1.Kid A's fiance does not "like her" because she makes his dick hard. Sorry. They aren't behind the bleachers fucking. They are seven, let's get a little grip on some shit please. What do you think is going on? This little boy is stockpiling spank bank shit about Kid A and the crayons? Good god. 2.Who she may, and may not, walk silently down the hall with is not a weirdo fucking rule I am going to impose upon her. 3. Back the fuck up. I am going to deal with this bullshit my way. After all, I am the only one actually dealing with it. Stand above me and judge me as I put everything I have into not crying as we are kneeling on the floor and she expresses such sadness to leave me. It doesn't matter if she will be fine or if she is playing it up. Do you understand that? No of course not, because until you put her on the school bus, or worse - have her get out of the car, while she is actually sad (I promise I know the difference) and have her know you are sending her away...well that is some shit right there. Reality has ZERO to do with that situation. Kid A's feeling heartbroken and someone that she likes more than the other children wants to make her feel better.....or wants to know that she is going to feel better and you want me to act like something inappropriate is going on? See #1. And by the way......just what the fuck do you do to every man you interact with if you think this bullshit is inappropriate? 4. Why in the hell would I stomp all over an innocent misconception of love when it is harming nothing? Oh and P.fuckingS. Even it was the most harmful relationship Kid A will ever have in her life....say I had to go drag her out from under the underpass, pull the needle from her arm, and leave Fiance A behind while I forced her to go back to Social Studies....that is STILL not harming your nosy ass in any way. 5. Who she may, and may not, sit silently with is not a weirdo fucking rule I am going to impose upon her. 6. It was a motherfucking throw down at the playground as far as I can tell. What can I say....there was a winner and a loser. Oh and bonus opinion: Ask me. I know the name of your little girl's "boyfriend" too.
Since my husband and I have been together for so long....days like this are always mostly about an accumulated past. it isn't just Valentines Day 2015. It is all of our Valentines Days. We aren't so much with the love right now, but the world didn't agree to observe our cancellation of Valentines Day. R&B songs used to be so sexy. There are two that always stand out for me. There are actually more like....4, but I am trying to concise this shit up to prevent some sort of fucking emotional blog vomit. At some point.....clearly two different points... in my younger days... these were some sexy fucking songs. [Embed For Use By Upgraded+] [Embed For Use By Upgraded+] And I am not gonna lie.....while those particular men, in either video, do not do much for me physically.....My Body still gets it done. A descent? Maybe not but there is an effect down lower. |
February 13 had a bright spot. And that is all I would have written about had I done what I was supposed to do anyway....the one little spot of light. So - I will not deviate. Yesterday Kid A took approximately two hours and perfected a new dance move. She does this a lot. She will find a move she feels she doesn't do well, watch some videos, maybe find a how-to video on YouTube, and then she will get to work. Yesterday Kid A decided she was gonna master the Michael Jackson lean. Oh Kid A - ignore this mess on the floor, it's just my overflowing love for you. And yes, yes I will sit right here and watch you practice. Why? Because you are fucking amazing, not to mention Smooth Criminal is easily in my top three MJ songs. No, no I am not laughing, I swear! I suppose it needs mentioning that she didn't fully master this move, as I ruled against rigging fishing line up over the ceiling fan and using some S-hooks to attach it to her makeshift belt. Regardless......a descent into the mirror of myself would have to include this: [Embed For Use By Upgraded+] |
And then came February 12. In the middle of my bitchiness my husband and I decided to make some super shitty, long put off decisions regarding the fate of our love. (Yep, that is the attitude I brought to that discussion....just imagine some full-on body-language air quotes around "our love"...he's probably never wanted me more.) So that was awesome. We make huge decisions on the edges of anger and then never stick to them. We begin conversations and then let them twist and turn into they have evolved into a whole other thing and hours later we have no resolution to anything. All the typical couple shit. We decide....did we put twenty years into this? Is this what we wanted out of twenty years? For better or for worse...how worse is too worse? When do you make that call? When do you decide that something is so unacceptable that it can no longer go on? And then there is me.....not co-dependent so much....I don't need him. I can survive without him, as will my children. We wouldn't even need to change a single thing about OUR lives. I got it. I don't emotional need him because he's not that kind of guy. BUT goddamn if I can't just not want him. He's mine. Mine. MINE. And then I rethink everything since.....shouldn't that mean something? And then I self-medicate and watch TV. And then February 12 is over. It would be a thank god kind of situation but instead.....fuck it I'd rather descend into self-pity. [Embed For Use By Upgraded+] |
Days of despondency that began this day: February 11. Who the fuck knows why? Life needs no reason to kick your ass, I think we can all probably agree to that. This time though, this time I went a different way. Instead of sinking in and enjoying it to the best of my ability. I immersed myself in society. It sucked. Absolutely awful. I don't like people. Just in general. Plus, I am pretty abrasive, even upon first meeting me, so they don't usually like me. People wanting to like me tends to irritate me. So, add that to some weird phase of apathy and I was the school's happiest volunteer. The store's most pleasant customer. My husband's favorite wife. And on and on. I dumped attitude on everyone. I was busy from morning til night. And then I failed to sleep. The entire night I would think.....you aren't sleeping, just get on and post your blog. You have no computer and your phone is right there. You don't even have to move anything except your arm. The other choice was to lay awake thinking of all the things that suck and all the ways it is bound to get worse. Clearly I went with the latter. It's one of those great life choices I always make. To mark the commencement of the descent into despondency we begin with a song: {embed: NO WAIT. Fuck that. I am trying to claw my OUT not continue to float around down here. Changing it up - I am just gonna pick a song that I love but have not heard in a while. We shall call it the descent into normal - maybe the only way out is through. [Embed For Use By Upgraded+] And as far as the pope goes.....all I will say is that I would do so much more with a pointy hat. |
I like to do things. I do not want to chat while I do. Sorry, but no. I don't want to do any small talk, no chit-chat, we aren't gonna be Blair and Serena. I am here to do this and the reason you haven't talked to me very much is because I don't want to talk. I feel like I am pretty clear about that with facial expressions and body language. Most people get it - those other fucking people, man those other people. The Little Mermaid was repeating in my family room all day today. Little people and their obsessions..... Still, I did always love this song. And since the best course of action to take when you love something is to butcher it, in my typical fashion I will choose the best course. Oh wait..... Let's descend into violence. [Embed For Use By Upgraded+] There’s the chatter, Getting all up in my way. She’s got too much to say, So I just want to kill her. And I just can’t lie, I need to make her cry, I wanna punch the girl. Yes, I loathe her. Look at her, she’s such a shrew. I’m pretty sure she hates me too But my hate is much bigger. If she says another word, Just one fucking word, I’m gonna punch the girl. Sing with me now. Sha-la-la-la-la-la Why oh why Can’t I just let one fly Can’t I just punch the girl? Sha-la-la-la-la-la It’s just too bad This fist is iron-clad It’s gonna punch this girl. No you can’t prevent What I’m about to do to you, It’s gonna happen real soon, And man, that’s a bummer. You’re still saying words But they’re full-on absurd I’m gonna punch you girl. Sha-la-la-la-la-la She should be scared I’ve got this shit prepared I wanna punch this girl. Sha-la-la-la-la-la Gotta do it now I know exactly how I'm gonna punch the girl. Sha-la-la-la-la-la Can’t wait too long Everyone can’t be wrong Everybody say punch the girl. Sha-la-la-la-la-la Go and pray I didn’t come to play I gotta punch this girl. I’ve got to punch this girl When can I punch this girl I gotta punch this girl Everybody say punch the girl. |
Last night I stayed up late to drag out a fight with Husband A. I couldn't help it. I haven't given one a good ....no reason lengthening in a while. It's not nice, it's not pleasant, it's not right. But I did it. I am not quite sure what he expected. He ignored eleven of my phone calls. Circumstances be damned - he knew I wasn't gonna just silently swallow that bullshit. So anyway. We fought....we didn't make up....we woke up to pretend it didn't happen while knowing it did....it made me tired. Wore me out. It was good. It was the emptying of it all that I needed yesterday. My poor poor Husband A. It all adds up to a quiet day. Heavy tear-emptied eyes. A.....guilt-ridden uplifting. A descent into silent desperation. I end today the same way I ended yesterday.....knowing I could do or be or have or give ....more. Not used to my potential...incorrectly feeling weighed down by others. When I was young I used to see The Nutcracker at Christmas every year. I loved it so much. I love it sooooo much. I wanted to be a ballerina. I wanted to live inside the music. Fuck.....I still want those things. This ballet as a whole fit right into my somber little girl brain. Fuck....it still fits into my....still little girl brain. I get it. The road to good things is ALWAYS shitty. Always. Something always breaks. Be it a nutcracker, a heart, sanity.....something always breaks. And something always dies. Be it a Mouse King, love, sanity. And then when you get to the good part, when you think it is all paying off....well then you wake the fuck up. Good morning motherfucker, good morning. Not to mention the Sugar Plum Fairy is played by a prima ballerina. A goddamn prima ballerina who dances the least and not until the 2nd act? That's the best role ever. It radiates.....competence. I just always wished she didn't smile. For some reason this is what I have thought of all day long. This song has haunted my thoughts, my meals, my conversations....so I am giving it away..... [Embed For Use By Upgraded+] |
Day 8 Prompt: This is what I would blog about if there was nothing to blog about.
Today was so ….. Saturnine, sullen, and splenetic. Substandard, sad, and synthetic. Crappy, convoluted and cummy. Critical, constant, and crummy. Reactionary, rabid, and reaming. Raging, redundant, and redeeming. Enraging, encompassing, enough. Empty, edifying, enormous. Wistful, woebegone, and witchy. Wobbly, withered, and would be. Icky, ill-fated, and insane. Incompetent, illiterate, and inane. Tiresome, testy, and tyrannical. Tarnished, tedious, and terrible. [Embed For Use By Upgraded+] Thank you for joining us on today’s descent to the Land of Languish. |
Day 7 Prompt: Did you ever get really drunk, and do sumthink stoopid? Tell the truth or lie. The answer to this is shameful. No. I have done foolish shit while drunk, but all the really truly stoopid shit I did on......other substances. In my 20 years with my husband I have been thrown over his shoulder and carried out of places 16 times. It became a thing.....there goes skeason, over Husband A's shoulder again. Once I crawled through a bathroom into a walk in closet, having locked both the bedroom door and the bathroom door, I then passed out on the floor of the closet. It was apparently a tense situation....I wouldn't know. I was peacefully sleeping.
Fuck today. That's the soundtrack to this moment of time. Is that a song? It needs to be. I am going to go check. WAIT! IT IS!!!!!! What the hell. It is a Lil Wayne song. It's not a good song as far as Lil Wayne goes, so we are not going with that shit. I have been baking for.....22 hours with a break to work the raffle ticket table at elementary movie night and a break to attend one of the parties that I caked it up for. A combined three hours. I have been baking for 19 hours. I am not done. My family is making me crazy. Fuck my family. Fuck Husband A. Fuck Kids A and B. Truly. Just. What. The. Fuck. This cake is baked with resentment. You know that move Simply Irresistible? It's like that. Happy Birthday! Make a wish on your cake of hatred. Yummy! For a small window of time.....I would say about 4 hours, it was just me and Kid B here. We took this opportunity to get into our baking routine and fucking rocked out. She stuffed her face from the high chair while I performed a concert for her. Because I am nothing if not a dancing monkey, here only for their entertainment. We have a kitchen playlist. It consists of songs that are A. easy to dance cook to and B. made to belt out. It also contains a handful of revolving songs that are tickling our fancy at the moment. One of the few that is always there....... [Embed For Use By Upgraded+] This falls into category A. And man do I love it. It is so sexy to me. Not the video or the men....ha ha ha ha.....they aren't exactly my cup of tea. But the song. The song makes me feel sexy. Not a song that makes me feel like having sex, just makes me feel sexy. It is also on my mow the lawn playlist because who doesn't feel sexy cutting the goddamn grass? (....this post makes it sound like I have playlists. Probably because I used the actual sentence....We have a kitchen playlist. Not so much. It is an....assumed....playlist. We know what we want and when it works for us - we don't need Apple to remind us. ) Kid A and B both approve of Electric Feel, and they rave about my performance as well. However, Kid B is obsessed with a little number from Act 2 that goes something like this: [Embed For Use By Upgraded+] |
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