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So, those of you who know me well know that I can be really, really REALLY politically incorrect and blunt. I use a lot of words that make people uncomfortable–and that is fine with me because we need to be constantly challenging ourselves and our viewpoints–especially  because our language is evolving and changing every day. And to do something just for the sake of language is a perfectly fine reason in my book. So, if you really need something to motivate you to challenge yourself, if for no other reason, do it for the love of our evolving language or some other equally valid reason. Whatever gets you through the night, right?!

Anyhow, one of the views that I’ve come up against lately is the idea that we should always be polite, as our default setting, even in the face of casual rudeness. And I have, mostly–to a fault. And while it has certainly helped me get through life smoothly–I wonder if I would have been happier had I put aside the polite and just got entirely, nakedly real? 

I get it, you DO catch more flies with honey than vinegar–but maybe we should reevaluate catching flies altogether. Maybe those flies are better off free, flying far, far away? And maybe our efforts are better applied to the delicate art of improving ourselves and putting aside the opinions of others? 

It’s hard, being female and from ND. People up here are hella polite–so polite that when they throw shade, no one but the thrower really notices. Oh, and the people that they brag to later–you know what I mean–that whole post-mortem that “confrontations” go through, where the speaker tells the tale of speaking up for him/herself, portraying him/herself as a little tougher than s/he really is and was. Yeah, like that. Like breaking out of that “pleasing” shell occasionally is a little naughty, just a little verboten. And a lot empowering, which is probably why it’s been trained out of us (ladies mostly). So, where does that leave us? Hopefully, a little stronger and a little more self aware. Oh, and a little more confrontational when necessary. And maybe a little pushy too–but just a little, on occasion. This is ND after all. 

So, this is the post where I just make a list and ramble on about stuff that could be its own post, but just isn’t fleshed out quite enough to really be worth reading. Shall we begin? 

1. This month has been so fucked up, lots of highs and lows–lots of adversity and difficulties–and my terrible attitude. And I was told that it was because Mercury was in retrograde–yeah, okay. What does that even mean? Something astrologically dire, I’m imagining–but because I don’t really believe in astrology, I’ll just have roll with it and do a wait and see. Things seem to be looking up a little–which is in line with what another friend told me about the end of the month. Alrighty then. It still doesn’t make me believe in astrology–which is, what I’m told, a Sagitarius would say.

2. I’m still in the guest room at my parents’ house. I’m pretty sure that I’ll be there forever–at least in spirit–kind of like prison or something (you never REALLY get out–rawr!). What’s different now is that my house is almost done and all sorts of packages are arriving for it, like light fixtures, a microwave drawer (yeah, I don’t get it either), an actual range, a range hood and all sorts of little stuff, like towels, kitchen stuff, etc. Let’s just say that we are ALL ready for me, the kitters and my parcels to be gone. There’s nothing like being told that you’re a ginormous imposition to make you feel special and cherished. Thanks, Dad. Oh, and intimating that my mom wanted me out also was just the icing on this shit-filled, fuck-juice cake. Bosco. You should probably stop wondering why I used to be so screwed up–b/c this might just be your sign. And I get that that is a bratty, petulant thing to say, but I just don’t care.

3. I’ve said this before–but it bears repeating–being touched by strangers, when it is uninvited, makes my skin crawl. I was touched A LOT last night–and some rando even actually played with my hair–near the scalp. It’s not like he pulled on one of my curls (which is bad enough)–this guy’s got his whole hand into it on the top of my head. Yuck. In addition, a pair of drunks tried to see my id after I carded them–insisting that I wasn’t old enough to be there. Wow. You boys are just so funny. I can’t imagine why I wouldn’t want to show you my license which includes my home address. Try again. Oh (on a related note), please never, ever give into a drunk AF urge to wait for someone at their home because you can’t get ahold of them any other way. That’s drunk logic–time to go home when that sets in b/c that goes nowhere good. Fun? Oh hell yes! Good? Yeah, no. 

4. Okay, don’t kill me, but I love the ad for AHS with lots of Lady Gaga and Ramstein remixed. You may not like her music, but she is a creative force of nature. Mad snaps for that. 

5. There really is no reason to wake me up at 8am to answer any house questions. Yeah, I get it, you don’t want to screw anything up–and I appreciate it, I really, really do–but 8am? Seriously? And have you ever heard of a phone? You have? Good. Use it. 

6. Okay, can we please make some sort of enforceable rule that movie and TV people CANNOT use London Calling or God Save the Queen ever again over a shot of the sights of London? How freaking annoying is that?! It’s like, yeah, we get it–it’s London–we know all of the sights b/c we aren’t fucking retarded and we haven’t lived in a cave our whole lives. You show me Big Ben, the Tower Bridge and Buckingham Palace–I think London. Please don’t bastardize the soundtrack of my misspent youth to point out the obvious. And yeah, I know that the Sex Pistols were a manufactured punk “boy band”–and I don’t care. Just stop it. 

7. And speaking of boy bands–can we just NOT with Fallout Boy and that damn, Uma Thurman, song?! How dare they use my beloved Musters’ theme song in that horrible excuse for music?! Marilyn Munster is my spiritual twin and I resent the hell out of that fucking song. Waaah. 

8. Road head? Yay or Nay? I’m all in the yay column (surprised? Duh)–it is a wonderful way to connect, beat boredom AND road monotony–and it definitely helps to keep the peace. And if you angle your shoulders just right, you can totally work around a stick shift. Besides, it beats the hell out of I-spy. 

9. I love my life. Things may be hard and a bit adverse right now–given the daily arguments with my parents–but I’m honestly very, very happy overall. I thought of this tonight at Happy Hour with  one of my best friends and her sister (who I absolutely adore)–we were talking about what our lives would look like if we had stayed with our “original” partners (ie. first boyfriends and first/starter husbands). I am so much happier right here/right now. I can’t imagine anyplace I’d rather be for a home base (I mean the FM–not the guest room). I have AMAZING friends that are more like family, an uber awesome (and handsome/sexy/funny/BRILLIANT) FWB and wonderful parents. What more could anyone ever ask for? Nada. That’s what. xo

So my mom is having company over tomorrow, and she asked to use some random lemon cake mix that moved over here with me–and of course I said yes. And then she goes, “Thank you. You don’t like lemon anyway.”  And I’m all like, “WHAT?! Since when don’t I like lemon? I BOUGHT THAT CAKE MIX! Of course I like lemon.” And she’s all, “You used to hate lemon…”. And I’m like, “On chicken. I don’t like lemon on chicken.”–and she’s like, “Oh yeah. Lemon pepper. You don’t like chicken anyway”.  CHEESE AND CRACKERS (which is my new, JESUS CHRIST–out of respect for my mom–and I actually like it better)!!! 

Anyway, I like chicken just fine–although it does gross me out sometimes. I honestly don’t know where she gets this stuff. Lol! I love my mom so hard. xo

Okay, friends and lovers–it’s time for some random stuff.

1. Frozen Coke slushies are the best slushies, although Cherry definitely comes very close;

2. Sometimes I just want to kiss random people–as long as they don’t have cold sores. 

3. The Everst Tikka House has amazingly awesome food. I’ve had their lunch buffet and their dinner menu–and give them 2 enthusiastic thumbs up. However, if you stay until their lunch closing or their dinner closing, the proprietor will actually take your beverage glass before you’re finished so he can put it in the washer. Odd. He is an exceedingly nice man–but he could be stronger in this area of customer service. It takes away from an otherwise fabulous meal. 

4. Samurai is still my favorite FM restaurant. Bar none. Izumi is a very close second.

5. We all make sacrifices for our friends–and they, ideally, make sacrifices for us. 

6. I have spent a ridiculous amount of time planning the perfect murder. 

7. I kind of love it when people underestimate me. Paging Dr. Freud. 

8. My guy crush (who made my entire month in a two-day span) is the best kisser I have ever encountered–by leaps and bounds, God’s honest truth. Kissing him, literally, makes me weak in the knees

9. If don’t already know who the person in #8 is, you don’t know me well enough to ask. 

10. My favorite color is green–although pink is almost tied with it. 

11. I drive way too aggressively. Although, if I didn’t , I would be probably still be road-rage girl. 

12. I’ve been smiling so hard since Sunday–I hope that this feeling never wears off. 

13. Do artisticly done photos of one’s breasts make good gifts? 

14. What if you have the photos framed for the recipient before giving them as a gift?

15. On a related note, is it narcissistic to have framed photos of one’s breasts and various other parts hanging in one’s own home? 

16. If you use any derogatory words for prostitutes and other sex workers while around me, I will call you out on it, not so politely. Even if I really, really REALLY like you. 

17. I love vanilla tootsie rolls. 

18. The people in my life have absolutely no idea how much I love and cherish them. They make me feel safe. 

19. Most people want to be happy. I’m already happy by my nature–I want safety. 

20. I’m an extremely curious person. And I’m hyper active (ADHD). It’s a hard combination. My mind moves very, very quickly and I always have a ton of questions for everyone, about everything. I always have. I hope that I take my final breath with a head still full of questions. 

21. Although not in my top 5, Amelie and Big Fish are two of my favorite movies. I consider both of them to be aspirational.

22. Although I’ve been mocked and taken advantage of so many times as a result of living this way, but I find people to be endlessly fascinating–and I could listen to them talk about their passions, their struggles/pains and their lives all day long–I genuinely live to inspire others and to make them feel happy, heard and important. Everybody should feel that way, at the very least, most of the time. 

23. Relatedly, I also look for the “beautiful” in every person that I interact with. Some make it a lot harder to find than others. 

24. If I compliment you on something, I mean it. And there is no ulterior motive. 

25. You will always know where you stand with me. Especially if you are no longer welcome to stand with me.

26. I struggle to trust people every, single day. I do this b/c I can’t live with the alternative. 

27. This goes with #26: I get hurt more than I care to admit, but living honestly and fully is worth it. 

28. I do suffer fools; just not very gladly.

29. If you could actually see it happening, know that I probably miss you–even if you think that it stupid, I probably will anyway. 

30. Sometimes, you really don’t have to get me to get what I’m about. I’m here to inspire and encourage b/c genuine passion is intoxicating. And I totally love that. xo

Happy Happy Friday, friends and lovers! This has been one hell of a month (or so), and I’m am really glad t 

hat it’s finally (almost) over. The fresh start that is fall will be greatly appreciated. Except for pumpkin spice. Can we all just take a minute and find something else to obsess over every fall? For real, I saw pumpkin spice yogurt at Target yesterday. Yuck. My big news of the last and current month is that I have managed to lose what I thought was one of my dearest friends. Although this happened a while ago, I’ve chosen to publish it now (I hadn’t planned on publishing it at all) b/c after some reflection and one very humbling,”oh for fuck’s sake”-moment, it’s become exceedingly clear that she’s been trash talking me to anyone who will listen–and has been quite successful at making me the bad guy in all of this–so much so that two people have tried to talk me into being friends with her again (one of whom is one of my male best friends). At first, I agreed to it out of my affection and respect for him, but now, the more I think about it, I’m even more pissed that she is going out of her way to make me look bitter and evil and herself look like some poor victim (she is SO GOOD at this, btw). And I’m actually moderately pissed (and heartbroken) that certain friends seem to have taken her side/believed her over me. 

You can say a lot of bad things about me (clearly), but you have to admit that I am hella loyal and that I am brutally, bluntly honest. There is a lot more to it, but it’s just more of the same. Whatever. I’m absolutely certain that I don’t want her toxic shit in my life again. 

I had always thought it odd that she hadn’t retained friends from over the course of her life–but now it makes perfect sense. She is a duplicitous, back-biting cunt who has very likely driven off people from her past by being herself. Always be weary of people who don’t have friendships that are older than a couple of years. 

She always seemed to be a decent enough person, although she made some choices that I don’t really relate to or even approve of. But it’s her life, not mine–and if she can live with her choices, who am I to tell her she’s wrong or even way off base? I just always guessed that she would figure that out herself. But she didn’t, not even a little bit–and that became a problem when she undertook a sexual relationship with someone that I consider one of my closest friends. So, she had to go for so many reasons, not the least of which is that she is terribly indiscreet, that she speaks horribly of most of her sexual partners (with the exception of the married one that she’s in love with–although she, inexplicably, blames his newborn baby for their problems and expresses a great deal of malice toward her–it’s so fuct up) and that she knew that this guy (my friend) was off limits (for all of the typical/predictable reasons women say such things) and she fucked him anyway. That, friends and lovers, is called being a terrible friend. 

In addition to that, she also seemed to be “collecting” my friends–which is uber hard to explain, but basically means that she is inappropriately befriending people who I routinely hang out with. I hate even writing about this because it sounds so ridiculous and paranoid–which I definitely am not on either account. It started with a guy that I had met, ironically, through her–but that she had said that she never really hung around with him. 

Once I started seeing him, she began hanging with him almost every day. She also “intimated” that he was embarrassed of me and wanted to get into her pants. Nice. Not to sound awful or conceited, but if you were to see the two of us side by side, there is no contest. Try as she might, she will never be me. A white trash version of me maybe, but even then, she will never be anything more than a less intelligent, far less interesting and WAY LESS attractive imitation. I hate that it had to come down to this with that guy (the one I met through her)–but this is the same guy who was insisting on our first date that he was being punked by his friends because I was, “way too beautiful for him”. He kept saying things like that throughout the entirety of our friendship–which ended, btw, because of something that this former friend told me. It makes sense now that he had no idea what I was talking about when I brought her words up to him. In hindsight, I may owe this douche an apology. 

In addition to that guy, she also became very fast, too fast of friends with one of my best girlfriends and now seems to be living with her (at least part of the time) and behaving VERY inappropriately with this friend’s uber douchey, live-in boyfriend. Apparently, she has been going over to my friend’s house and hanging out/drinking all night with him after my friend has gone to bed. Now, I don’t know about you, but when it comes to relationships, if you are a true friend, you won’t put yourself, with your friend’s significant other, in a position that even LOOKS inappropriate. And drinking all night with the boyfriend of the woman who has taken you in, while that woman is asleep upstairs is squarely in that category. 

Argh! 

Okay, friends and lovers, let me start by saying that I watch altogether too much porn. Please don’t tell me that that’s even a little bit shocking to any of you who know and read me. Besides, judging people for watching porn, even LOTS of it, is just lame. Seriously, how could I possibly be friends with someone who would judge another person over something so minor? 

Okay, I’m back on track now. What I was getting at, in a “scenic-route” kind-of-way, is that porn fills in the spaces that would otherwise be filled by a series of really, really bad choices (of the interpersonal kind). Trust me, nobody wants that. It may seem like a fun diversion at first–watching me melt down–but then, you realize that I am a person who, at the heart of it–and until fairly recently (and that is a whole other topic–and I won’t be writing about it b/c he is very, very private–and I like him too much to disrespect him), makes astoundingly bad, epically bad choices when it comes to my interpersonal relationships. Which is being worked on, because that is what we do in our overly-therapy-ed society. We get help. We work on it (whatever “it” is).  And then we brag about it by using it as a glib brush off to excuse any and all rude and/or self-serving behavior done in “its” name. 

For example, being super late to an appointment and then saying, “oh sorry. I’m always late-and I’m working on it–so…”. It stops criticism cold, right in its tracks. It basically makes it seem like s/he’ll be the one that looks like a dick when s/he (rightfully) calls you out on your rudeness. It breaks my heart to say it, but we have made our society into a far less interesting version of Wonderland. Yay us. ‘Merica. 

Anyhow, I watch way too much porn and I’m not sure if I should watch less, or just embrace it? I’ll probably embrace it because it’s uber hot, amateur fetish porn–and that’s kind of my jam. Any questions? 

So, yeah–this is that blog post where I continue to bitch about withdrawing from unnecessary SSNRIs which were prescribed as part of my stroke recovery. I’m about a week and 2 days into the withdrawal process and I feel really terrible physically and mentally. My thoughts are all over the place, and I’m assuming the worst of every situation–along with assuming that everyone is mad at or hates me all of a sudden, which is very hard on me b/c I tend to be a PollyAnna. And, the physical stuff, Jesus. I’m insanely dizzy intermittently and have zaps in my brain–like a static electricity shocks to your skull. Eeeeeeeee! So, that’s a barrel of monkeys. 

The reason that I’m even bitching about this semi-publicly is that: a. Not that many people read this, so it’s mostly private anyhow; b. My mood is such that I will have no friends or family that even likes me if I keep this mood for much longer and c. I hate being this cranky and awful. Harumph. 

The goal of this whole undertaking is to get my saliva back so I can tolerate food again and to have stronger orgasms. It stands to reason that I have no local sexual partners just as my orgasms have started to return to their med-previous, earth-shaking levels. I may be pretty mediocre at a lot of things–but I know my way around a dick. 

Aside from all of the withdrawal, which blows–hard, I’ve been struggling to get along with my dad. If you are a regular reader of me, this is not exactly breaking news, but it has gotten so much worse. He basically told my cousin to make sure that her daughter doesn’t major in something “useless” like philosophy. Gee, thanks. I guess that being an attorney and clinical social worker/therapist isn’t something to be proud of. 

And although a much greater mind than my own recently told me that he believed that my dad was very, very proud of me–and I grudgingly agree with him for the most part, it just doesn’t feel that way a lot of the time. 

Greetings friends and lovers–tonight I want to talk about something a little more personal and closer to the bone. If you have read my posts from the beginning, you know that I’m currently living in my parents’ guest room and that my dad and I don’t always get along. 

I’d like to say that’s it’s about 50/50. When we get along, it’s great–we laugh and have an amazing time hanging out together. But when it’s bad–it’s really, really really bad. We snipe at each other in a way that people who love each other shouldn’t. And it always gets nasty and personal–very fucking personal. 

And today/tonight it was moderately good, until a little bit ago, when my dad decided that he was going to make an issue of my snacking habits (or lack thereof)–I’ll get there in a minute. First, a little background. 

You see, I’m not really a snacker–unless there is fruit or carrots involved (I’m more than a little obsessed by carrots right now)–in which case, I’ll eat way too much and get sick. About a week ago, my mom was getting concerned that I was only eating twice a day–and that I wasn’t eating at home very much. All of that is normal for me, so it didn’t turn into a thing. She trusts me when I say that I’m fine. I struggled with a bit of an eating disorder (bulimia/over exercising/extreme calorie restriction) when I was younger and she worries, especially when my life is in disarray, like now, because that’s usually when it flares up in my thoughts more than I care to admit. 

Fast forward to tonight and my dad commenting, nastily, on whether I should have some candy. He is of the (apparent) opinion that I should stay as small as possible–regardless of how I go about doing it. He has always been a pain in my ass in this way–and it’s no fucking wonder how I ended up with a moderately serious eating disorder. The thing about it is that I have always had a place to go and get away from his toxic crap and now I don’t, at least for now. It’s fascinating to me, as a clinician, how quickly we all have reverted back to our original, long-term family dynamic–but me, as me, is really annoyed by being back in a “child” role. 

So that brings us to here–now. I’m already uber crabby because of a change in my meds–and should be left alone without all of the nasty snipes. I’m not especially good company right now–and should probably just go to bed. But before I do, the picture below. I was messing with the tool bar–and inserted a photo. I have yet to figure out how to remove it. xo

 

Greeting friends and lovers! As always, I am so grateful that you are here and reading my blog–so, thank you and stuff. This post is about my ability to shoot myself in the foot and all those other perfectly-fitting cliches. Shall we? 

So, two days ago, I got all pissy and decided to post about the apparent rewritting of history. More specifically, I called out the people behind the upcoming music-based documentary about the punk scene in Fargo Moorhead–which, according to a recent interview, was not going to cover the 1980s–when the punk scene happened. And it basically resulted in hurt feelings and bad vibes–so yeah. Lesson learned. I would sit and write, “I will not be a cunt”, 100 times on a wipe-off board and self-flagellate–but I really don’t feel that bad about it, so there’s that. 

Today has been a challenging day and has given me a little insight into why I have been so edgy lately. I’m transitioning off of my SSRI that was prescribed for anxiety and as a part of my stroke-recovery program. I have been on them for 18 months, and my anxiety is as bad as it ever was and I don’t feel particularly calm or peaceful. Go figure. And my mouth is really dry a lot of the time, which is creating issues with my tongue and teeth. It’s just a whole lot of nope–so it’s gotta go. 

Easier said than done, apparently–I’ve have never been so cranky in my life. And sleepy–I am so sleepy. It’s really like you can’t fully wake up for a long time–and when you do, you’re a raging twat. I hate it. I’ll admit that I can be pretty bitchy and sarcastic at times, but this is off the hook. Jeebers.    

So, here we are. I’m grouchy and tired, but feel like going out and doing something without leaving my room and putting my clothes back on. And I want ice cream–but I don’t want to eat it because that requires effort. See where I’m going with this? I wish that I could just go to sleep or talk with someone whose company I prefer to most others despite his relatively recent presence in my life. Yeah, that may actually make me feel better, at least for a little while. But, for now, I’ll enjoy the solitude in my room and be grateful that I am away from anyone that I can offend. xo

So, yeah–I’ve basically torpedoed my life in a few major ways, but in all honesty, it feels good to shake things up and get stuff out into the open. But as always, the bad comes with the good, and I’d much rather see the bright side than dwell on the negative. If you’re still with me, I’m going to assume that you want to hear all about it. Shall we begin? 

First, some of the good stuff–turns out that the tiling in the house will start next week–hooray!!! That means that we are almost there–one step closer to moving in! This news is an intensely bright spot in an otherwise fuck-all week. It saves the entire day, if I’m being honest. I am so ready to leave the guest room once and for all. 

Another bright spot is that my recent drama crap is finally getting resolved. Yay! I’m cautiously optimistic that things will work out as they’re meant to and that all will be well in a short time. Hopefully. I’m still a bit squirrelly, but, there was only one casualty in the whole ordeal–so that’s pretty good, right? I really wish that it didn’t have to be that way, but for now, it does. The most unpleasant part about it is that I really can’t hang out with my friend anymore at shows and after his work. 

Now for a little of the bad. Due to the demands of various friends, I am now having to be pretty careful about what I write on here. Ordinarily, I would be pretty bothered by that type of request, but I suppose that I can try to be more mindful of other people’s feelings when I write–but I’m doing it under protest–at least a little bit. I guess that I’m not used to being asked to alter actual content. We’ll see how that goes. I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t a little bugged by that. 

If you know me (and I’m assuming you do b/c why else would you read me?), you know that I process just about everything through writing it out and taking it apart. I’m not sure that I can, or even should, censor that to appease other people. It’s my process and doesn’t actually have anything to do with anyone else, insofar as my making sense of things for my own peace of mind. But, I suppose it’s the same stuff (ego bullshit) in different human wrapping, for the most part. People just can’t help but make things about themselves. Even when it isn’t. And that sucks.