Tuesday, September 30, 2008

Bloody Hell!

I don't ken much to the stereotyped idea that when a woman is... shall we say less than her most friendly, that she is "on the rag".

However, I do find it comforting at times - when I am obsessive and anxiety ridden - that I am, in fact, on the rag. It makes me seem oh-so-much more reasonable. (Ohhhhh! That's why I'm freaking out! Nice. I can calm down now.)

Friday, September 19, 2008

Ok, granted..

...I've had two Portland beers (which are stronger than national beers), which makes me a bit tipsy, but...

I MISS MY GIRLFRIENDS!!!!!!!!

I just thought of Cindylicious in Atlanta. Man, I miss her. And Charlotte in SD. Whom I owe a phone call to. And Angela in LA.

I wish they lived closer.....

Over it

I'm very tired of being so fucking responsible. I try so hard to do everything right - don't fuck up at work, pay all the bills on time, treat everyone with respect - all that shit.

But, I feel like I'm coming apart at the seams.

I overdrew my bank account for the second time in three months (really a Very Bad thing in my moral book), my attitude at work is sinking, I've got these anger issues I mentioned below....

Basically I'm Not Perfect.

And somehow that isn't allowed in my book. I can't fuck up. I must always be perfect, or so close to it that small slips are forgivable.

But that isn't reality. And I have such a fucking hard time making the life of my mind reflect reality.

wound tight

I feel very stressed lately. I guess I have good reason... but...

I have a friend coming to town (yaaaay! this isn't the stress part), so I will have to play hostess to a degree. I mean, this is a long-time really good friend, so she will understand if I'm less than organized, but still....

My job is still fucked. My manager has no fucking clue. His personal issues are so on the surface. My co-workers and I spend too much time on the job playing armchair therapists and discussing his "issues". This week was pretty bad - I guess because the boss was out of town and manager-boy had control of the shop. He is woefully unprepared to deal with that. So my main co-worker and I had two full days of wanting to bitch-slap the manager from the first minute of work. Not good.

Plus Luis went down to Mexico to deal with some shit down there and to see his family. I'm sure he is having a wonderful time. And I kinda miss being there, in some sort of "distance makes the heart grow fonder" type of way. So I'm on my own right now. Except... oh yeah, I have Luis' cousin Moi staying in the house with me.

He's pretty good about staying out of the way. Since we gave him his own tv, he pretty much spends his time in his room. But there is always the little voice in the back of my head saying "there's someone else here". And to some degree I'm responsible for him.

So no "me time" for me. Maybe that's what I need. Which is why I'm here at Beulahland, finishing off my second beer.....

One fucking angry bitch

That's me. One fucking angry bitch. I've always known that I have a lot of anger, but recently it's been making itself apparent.

I was talking to Luis about the shit that is going on down in Mexico (sooo fucked up... but that is a whole 'nother entry on my blog) and we were talking about my motorcycle in Mexico. Suddenly I felt this huge flare of anger in my mind. I mean huge. Like hurricane Gustav or Ike huge. I quickly put the kaibosh (how does one spell that word???) on it, but it echoed in my head for hours afterwards. Where did that red-hot burning anger come from?

It's always been floating just under the surface. I know that. I'm pissed. About a lot of things. I think I've always been this way. But it's gotten to the point that I might actually have to Do Something about it.

I remember in high school having a fantasy that I would be given a bat and some old piece of shit car and just allowed to have at it, vent all my anger on that car. Beat it to shit.

Just writing that makes me want that fantasy to come true. So now it's time to fucking get on the program and tackle that anger, face on, full body slam, kick it's ass.

Fuuuuuuccckdddd Uuuuup!

I am now at Beulahland. Drinking a beer. So I feel better. But about an hour ago I was ready to tear the head off a barrista, chew it up, and regurgitate it down her throat.

Yeah.... that bad.

There are two cafes near my house. One is about 1 1/2 blocks away, in an old revamped arts and crafts style house. The other is about 4 blocks away in an old storefront and usually has live music or other such distractions. But the closer one has a vibe I can't quite put my finger on, and don't quite like. Nothing bad, but not as comfortable as the other one.

This evening when I decided I needed to get online to take care of shit in my life, I decided to walk the extra (oh-so-far) three blocks and go to that cafe. Besides, they serve beer, so the extra walk is oh-so-worth it! I get there, order a bottled beer, and then they tell me they are closing in about 15 minutes. Beer and spare change were re-exchanged and I opted for the less yummy cafe. I get there and order an au lait. I sit down, plug in and try to get online. For 20 fucking minutes!

I've had problems getting online there before (another reason I don't really like that place), so I tried all my usual tricks. Turn airport off, then on again. Quit my email program, start it up again. Fucking restart my computer. Repeat.

No go. I tell the barrista that I can't get online. She says she'll reboot the server. I guess she did it at some point, but I still couldn't get online. Finally after 20 minutes I cut my losses and drove over here to Beulahland.

Shoulda just come here in the first place.

Monday, September 15, 2008

Bow Down!

There are times when I just hate people. Not for anything specific. Just because they exist outside my own head and make their own (wrong) decisions. When I'm Empress of the Universe.....


  • no one will use their cell phones while they are driving.
  • trendoids will be ridiculed and shot at dawn for driving their bikes without brakes and helmets.
  • PBR will be outlawed.
  • people wearing "fashion" re-played from the 70's will be lit on fire and marshmallows will be roasted ove their burning flesh.

Out of Whack

I'm feeling out of whack these days. Don't much relish my job anymore, have only made small steps towards researching my new job interest (house inspection), still have a visitor living in my house, Luis has had lots of emotional things going on this past month or so, and I feel like I have no time for myself.

Yesterday we were out running errands and Luis suggested we go to Jamba Juice. I opted to go home and relax. I ended up sleeping for a few hours while I was alone in my house. What a nice feeling.

But I woke up tired today and haven't quite gotten back into the swing of things. I'd much rather be at home sleeping.