is anybody out there?

i am not sure if anyone reads my blog yet or not. besides, you know...me. let's try this, shall we?

i saw this on somebody else's blog and decided to steal it. PLEASE play along.

1) As a comment on my blog, leave one memory that you and I had together. It doesn’t matter if you knew me a little or a lot, anything you remember.

2) Next, re-post these instructions on your blog and see how many people leave a memory about you. It’s actually pretty funny to see the responses. If you leave a memory about me, I’ll assume you’re playing the game and I’ll come to your blog and leave one about you. If you don’t want to play on your blog, or if you don’t have a blog, I’ll leave my memory of you in my comments.

how perfectly fitting

i came across this passage a few days ago. i think it's beautiful and articulates a goal that all of us as humans reach for.

I must learn to love the fool in me - the one who feels too much, talks too much, takes too many chances, wins sometimes and loses often, lacks self-control, loves and hates, hurts and gets hurt, promises and breaks promises, laughs and cries. It alone protects me against that utterly self-controlledmasterful tyrant whom i also harbor and who would rob me of human aliveness, humility, and dignity but for my fool.

it comes from Love Me, Love My Fool: Thoughts From A Psychoanalyst's Notebook by Theodore Isaac Rubin.

apology accepted or not

i recently saw an apology issued to some friends of mine by somebody that was seemingly long gone from their past. this person used, lied to and hurt many people. when somebody issues an apology, what should be done with it?

the mature and wonderfully ideal thing to do is accept it and move on and not let hurt feelings remain hurt. however in the real world where i live, i'm not so quick to let bygones be bygones. i guess i accept apologies but i am not so quick to simply forgive and forget.

i was apologized to recently. but it's for something that has happened many times. many times i have been apologized to. i accept these apologies and believe that hurting my feelings was never the intention. however, i WAS hurt. i have a problem getting passed this.

i don't think i am asking too much by wanting time after an apology to mull it over and allow my heart to heal. in any situation, it seems wrong and presumptuous of the apology maker to expect that just because they say the words "i am sorry" that they should be given a clean slate.

to be truely sorry and apologetic for a wrongdoing, whether intentional or not, one should be willing to accept that they may in fact not be forgiven. that's part of life. you just have to build a bridge and get your ass over it.

bite me

i am pissed. i am whiney. i am not suitable for public consumption or viewing. i am a bitch today. i want pity and i want flowers to miraculously be delivered to me from a certain person who ought to be kissing my ass instead chewing it out.

but whatever. i am exhausted. i am stressed out. i wants a full night's sleep. do you hear that, toddler? do you? did you know that your momma is much more fun and lovable when she gets enough sleep? no, he doesn't hear. he will probably be waking up crying several times a night until he starts kindergarten.

it's a gloomy rainy day. i feel it. all i want to do is shout and use my very favorite word which happens to be fuck. no, all i really want to do is sleep. but fuck that. i will drink coffe and diet coke all day. i will sit on the porch and smoke too many cigarettes and stew. i will NOT cook dinner and everyone else in the world besides my son can suck it.

it's past my bedtime and i'm eating cheezits

it's 10:41 pm. i am generally in bed before 10. i am a wuss. i can't rock the late nights anymore. it might have something to do with the fact that i have a toddler who generally wakes up by 6:30 or it may just be that the older i get, the more i relish, enjoy and simply long for sleep.

my beloved husband is working all night. again. he works in the "the oil field" and he works very long hours, sometimes a work "day" is as long as 30-36 hours long. when he is not going to be sleeping to the right of me, i force myself to stay up very late so that when i do go to bed i will fall asleep almost immediately. don't ask me why. it's just what i do.

so i'm home alone, sort of. the toddler is in bed. i have a book that i must read. it was lent to me about 2 weeks ago and i have only read a chapter of it. granted it's a short book but, i still haven't read much of it. it has been on my to-read list for a couple of years. you'd think i might take this opportunity to read. as the practically single parent of a toddler who rarely gets time to do such simple and pleasurable adult things as reading a book, i should be reading the damn book.

instead i am eating cheezits.

it's now 11:33 pm. much time has passed because around 35 minutes ago my brother damn near gave me a coronary by walking into my house. i don't know about you but when somebody unexpectedly enters my house late at night i tend to panic. thank god i didn't scream. that would have woken the small person and then i would have had to try to kick my big brother's ass which wouldn't be physically possible. it just would have ended up real ugly for me. brother is in a good mood, but won't spill any details about his new girlfriend. i doubt that i will get anything of my sister in law either. jerks. don't they know that i should be privvy to whatever details of their private lives that i desire? i kid. i love them both and respect their privacy. but i AM a nosey bitch and relish whatever lurid details they might share with me.

i think i need to go lay in bed and stuff my nose into the book i'm supposed to be reading so i can return it. i know as soon as i read a paragraph or maybe a page i'll be asleep. it's past my bedtime and i am done with the cheezits.

truely the nastiest shoes in the world

just yesterday i was searching images online on a quest to find the ugliest, most awful shoes known to mankind. i found a few here and there that i figured would be considered universally hideoous regardless of one's personal taste. however, the most offensive shoes i have ever seen or imagined exist right in my own home.

these shoes are called the "spider man shoes". i hate these shoes. i hate them with the white hot burning passion of 1001 suns. but they do a job that so far no other shoe has been able to toe the line for.

i have a 22 month old son. i call him sasquatch because he is enormous for his age. he is a pale pink chubby nearly hairless lovechild of big foot. sasquatch has very cute chubby toddler feet. the trouble is that they are so chubby that ordinary cute toddler summer shoes such as flip flops and various variations of them do not fit his foot. the spider man shoes were the only pair of sandal-esque type shoes i could find this past spring that were not outrageously spendy. they had to be easy on/off shoes that sasquatch could play in the yard in when we didn't want to mess with socks and his regualr tie-up sneakers.

the spider man shoes are vile. i hate character clothes, shoes, crap, whatever. my kid will not wear cartoon character stuff. sorry, it can be cute on other people's babies, but i hate it and will not put it on mine. it kills me that my kid has spider man shoes. they are so ugly. so let me finally describe them:

they are black foamy stuff. they have big ugly velcro straps that allow them to open and close over a very chubby pink toddler foot. and all over the sides of them they have these plastic puffy spiderman emblems on them. and the very worst part is that they stink. they stink like the shittest nastiest depths of hell. even if they get tossed in the washing machine with a load of clothes every single day, as soon as sasquatch has had them on his feet for 5 minutes, they will stink you out of a room.

it's awful to yell at one's husband to put his work boots outside on the porch because you think they are stinking up the house. it's even more awful when those work boots that get worn for 14+ hours a day in the texas heat in the oilfield smell less bad than a baby's summer sandals.

so while these may in fact be the stuff nightmares are made of, they are not the most horrible shoes ever seen. these are freaky, ugly ugly monstrosities, but they are not the worst. no readers, these are mild.

the spider man shoes from hell. be glad that these exist in my home and not yours. be very very glad.

Alas!

here it is 4 months later and i have not even revisited my own blog. i have such lofty expectations of myself and have become quite slothful.

so much has happened in my world since i intended to start back into this blogging thing. for starters, i was hospitalized for depression at the beginning of April. the depression and resulting stay at the funny farm were both the worst and best things that could have happened to me.

isn't horrible how hindsight is always perfect? looking back i can see that i had been struggling with depression for a very long time. it just hadn't ever completely taken over my life the way it slowly but surely did this past spring. i never realized how terribly i felt because it had been slow and so long since i had really felt good and like myself. anyhow, now with the help of modern chemisrty i am right as the rain on most days.

part of my problem is that i have super high expectations of myself. and pretty much the whole world. for whatever reason there is a really high standard i have set in my head and not being able to consistantly reach that nearly impossible bar sent my neurotically high strung perfectionista little self right over the edge. it's nice now being a little lazy, slower, accepting that nothing and nobody is perfect and doesn't need to be. life is much more enjoyable that way.