buggies

It was a super nice evening. The sun sank below the trees, it was crimson, yellow, and pink. The colors never cease to surprise me. It’s like a little gift each day just to see what color the sun will turn each night.

And there were only a squadron of bitey bugs that attacked me, compared to the army that swarmed and attacked in droves when I cut the yard. My legs are swollen and red from the thousands of bites – Im thinking a combo of chiggers and mosquitoes and blood sucking flies. They even nailed my neck. I look like Mina Harker.

There are two massive bits right near my jugular. Dracula would be proud that the flying leeches managed to snag a drop or two from my neck. However, I do not feel the need to eat spiders, nor do I have an urge to dig out a whole under a rock and sleep there. But I am having strange cravings for tomato juice with a big ol’ celery stick hanging out of it.

I now have shiny glossy legs because I have a ton of fingernail polish on my legs with the intent of killing the little chigger babies. I can’t wait to have at least a hundred dead parasites rotting in my legs. Yippee.

I love summer. Really. This is such a time honored tradition.

Too Slow

The chase is what drew you in. I’m realizing that now. I got caught. My bad.

So I’m nothing to you now; now that you have your life back. And here I was feeling bad for you. You weren’t really ever feeling bad about this. You did warn me you were selfish. I was blind, as any female would be under your charm. Silly me. I left you catch me. No one catches me. I’m a cheetah, and one that’s in control of its own emotions.

I can see in how you respond to me what it is your doing. It took me a while. It took me to get back to empty to finally open my eyes. What a lovely distraction you were. My friend was right, the opposite is only a distraction. A fake way to be happy; because happiness is fleeting. You weren’t my happiness as I had hoped. You were my sadness.

I’ve decided to not play your game anymore. You’re living the white picket fence life. That’s something I’ve never had a proclivity to or wanted. I want a family, but I don’t want it to be nuclear. I want it under my terms. I just have to wait a little more. It’d be easy to love you, but it won’t be returned. I realize this now.

I am queen of the chase. I drew you in because I thought you had something for me. I trapped myself in my own snare. My bad.

Not my vacation

Vacation that wasn't mine
Thanks for sharing all the details
Though they were gorey and unpleasant
It still wasn't mine

What would make you think I want to know
what you're doing with your family
as you spend your time with someone other than me
A life that isn't mine.

I don't want to picture you
on vacation in a tent, smiling, being pleasant
oh trying to make things right for everyone else
Someone who isn't mine.

Cherries

Today I did an important rite of summer. I ate way way too many cherries while sitting on my deck.

It was actually not blast furnace hot after a massive storm that killed the electricity for a while today. I grabbed my bowl of cherries and sat in my favorite lawn chair and kicked back. I’d snag a cherry out of the bowl by the stem, grasp the delicate fruit between my teeth and hold on while I pull loose the stem.

Then, ever so slightly, I’d roll my tongue around the red flesh of the cherry; feeling the dents and imperfections on the soft skin of the fruit before slowly sliding it between my back teeth. Next, I bite down softly while my tongue scoops out the hard pit in the middle of the burgundy soft tissue. Holding the meat of the fruit in my teeth, I let the pit roll onto the middle of my tongue, take in a deep breath and spit that puppy as far as I can. Finally, I greedily dig my teeth into the giving orb and savor the sweetness.

I must’ve repeated this procedure a hundred times today. Each cherry had it’s own texture and sweetness. Some were so sweet they made my mouth water, while others made my lips pucker with sour. So the eating of the fruit is always awesome, but here comes the rite of summer. My stomach is killing me. Way way too much fruit all at one time. It’s just like when I get oranges in November.

And, I’m really hoping there weren’t any worms in the cherries. That’s always unfortunate.

ruined

I can't even stand the feel of my own skin at the moment. I feel like im really losing it at the moment. I just want things to be real. No more of this psuedo crap. It doesn't mean anything, and yet it's so easy to be tricked into thinking it does.

I'm tired of feeling like a broken ruined creature, because that's all I feel like. I get that i don't mean a whole to anyone other than my 'rents; and so that's like really heart breaking. And dammit I tossed that stinkin' heart away - why did it have to come back? Life is easier when you lack emotions. I was an idiot for letting them back in.

I'm not a random emo loser. Thanks for turning me into one again. I think too much; take a guess what I'm thinking about. You knew what you were going to do - again, thanks for hanging on. You told me you were selfish. Yup. I'm beginning to think all men are selfish pricks. Hence the alone thing. I'm not going out on that limb again.

I'm gonna stick right here next to the tree trunk, even if i do turn bitter and downtrodden.

This sucks.

Letting Go

I don’t know how to let go. And I mean this in the very literal sense.
I know I have to because he’s not mine to want or talk to or share ideas with. I so miss telling him about my day and then hearing about his. He used to care if I made it to school or not – for some stupid reason this is a big thing for me. Now I have no one.

If I could have designed my perfect mate, he would have walked out of the mold. He appreciated the same music as me, and knew exactly what type to send to me to listen to. We could watch the same movie and get why the other liked it. It made me smile to talk to him about books we’d read. It’s nice to hear a meeting of the minds on intellectual stuff.

It’s all my fault I’m hurting like nothing else. This was worse than the stupid ex thing. He, I didn’t mind losing so much, but this guy. Wow. It’s like I’ve been tossed off a cliff and am drowning with no one or nothing to save me. I really do believe it’s possible to die of a broken heart. Mine hurts. Literally. Chest pains that come and go.

What’s worse is that he still emails and acts like he cares. He needs to stop. I need to stop. He has someone. Someone he can wrap his arms around and kiss and cuddle with and spend the day in bed with when it rains. Someone to laugh with and share inside jokes with. I have cat; and even he doesn’t like to be hugged.

This is me being strong. I will NOT email him. It’s not fair to me that he still tells me his feelings for me and that’s all he can give me. I don’t want a half a relationship. I deserve more because I want more. I want it all – but I want it all with him. Here’s me being strong, for as long as I can; until I can’t be and crawl back because I need a shot of air; a shot of my heroin; a shot of my soul mate who fate decided to be an ass about and show him to me and then say – too bad not for you.

What remains

What remains after the anger is gone? When anger and hate is what you’ve been using to exist off of for two years – when they are the only thing that motivates you to wake up in the morning. How much life energy has been wasted wishing the total downfall of two other humans who you once trusted with your very life (even if they are the ones who destroyed what you knew to be life). What did I think they would do? I mean, what’s the point of thinking about them and relishing the news of their coming come uppance? They aren’t pulling down the very fabric of society. They are ensconced in their own private world in which they are the selfish stars and they shed no care for others in the world.

What remains after the hatred is gone? The empty leftover feeling is hollow. When the hate dissipates a gaping maw is left floating in my soul. How do I replace that – and with what do I use as the adhesive to plaster myself back together? How does one forget how to hate when it’s been a part of your very existence for years? Hate is such a huge emotion it takes over and kills off smaller, but not unimportant feelings, how do you get those back? I’m sure they aren’t hiding under a rock in my garden. That’s where the slugs live. My hate has been my companion and best friend for so long, how do I just release it?

What remains after memories are gone? I have some major empty places in my brain. I’ve been painstakingly erasing as many memories from the past 12 years as I can. Now there’s nothing there to think back on when I stop to think. I watch tv or a movie or reread a book; and I instantly think – what was I doing in life during this year? My reply is usually a blank – a memory covered by a black death shroud. I start to lump the years together – was 2007 a good year, Hmm, nope, not at all. Was 2002 a good year – yes – but I don’t want to remember why because it’s pointless to dwell on something I’ve worked so hard to cover over with emptiness.

What remains after hope is dashed against the rocks of life? There’s nothing left. I don’t have hope for any type of future other than maintaining the basic needs of humans to survive. Food and shelter. Telling someone to “get out there” or “be happy” is ludicrous. It doesn’t happen that way. Everything I had been thinking and dreaming of for a couple of decades is gone. Try to replace that by hearing or reading someone say some pointless clichéd phrase. It just shows how out of touch with reality some people really are.

Everyone has problems – mine aren’t any greater than anyone else’s. However, they are mine and hence they are greater than anyone else’s. I’m the only existing in my jumbled head. I’m the only one who lives with my thoughts of pointlessness day in and day out. I’ve lost the point, the meaning, the reason. So, before you think you know me and try to offer some sage advice – think twice. No one lives your life and for some people “happy” isn’t an option. Empty is the option.

Sadness

I hope my other self in the parallel universe is having a much better time at love than me. I'm terrible at it. I can't seem to find a dude who wants to hang around. I don't have enough of whatever it takes to be appealing to another human being. It's a very sad realization.

My cats will be eating my dead body.

Waiting on Me

I sit at my computer - a beer at my left hand and my faithful cat at my right. (He likes messing with the wrist guard) I've been slightly nostalgic of late. I can't believe how far I've come, and how far behind I am. But, it's all gonna work out, as I have found out.

I own my house now, since the ex finally signed away the last bit of connection I had to his worthless ass. He continues to impress me with his inability to be a worthwhile human. He just let go one of his better coaches just because he didn't want any trouble from some parents. The ex is a loser and will be rewarded as such. It's just taken me a while to see that.

At this time last year, I was running around to all sorts of lawyers in town trying to find one to quickly extricate me from my marital status. I found one; and have since found out that I didn't do enough running around because he sucked raw eggs through a straw made of cow dung. I should've found a female lawyer. At least this summer I won't be facing the biggest failure of my life again.

Pity the ex doesn't see it that way.

I have a new grill, a new lawn mower, a new job, new coaching responsibilities, a new commute, a new washer and dryer, a new credit card, new clothes; I wonder when the new me will finally molt and show up ready to take over? I'm waiting. I can feel it; but breaking through that tough outer shell is a bitch. It's hard to do since the ex took the damn hatchet. That still burns me a little. Who does that?

No one I want to ever be associated with -that's for sure.

Over evaluated

I could just scream. Once again, I find myself waiting on a guy. What is wrong with me? Guys need to wait on me. I shouldn't be staring at my compy wondering where he is or what he's doing; and just knowing that he's with someone else and I'm just an after thought.

Because with my messed up ego and off-kilter sense of self worth - that's all I am. An afterthought to guys. I know this deep down, and have realized that no one will ever bother to look at me twice. And because of that, I will not subject another person to my uselessness. It's a pointless exercise, just like I'm pointless.

I'm not raising kids, therefore, technically I'm not really contributing to society. One washed up, purposeless old maid is more of a detriment to society than a boon. If one doesn't reproduce, then really they aren't holding up their end of the social contract. Idiot backwoods rednecks get to pop out the babies like it's no tomorrow. I can't even attract one of these heathens.

Anyway - guys why bother waiting when the clock is ticking so loudly each movement of the minute hand is like a violent earthquake sending horrid shudders of realization that I am a waste to humanity through me. This living thing is overrated.

I want my turn

I absolutely hate coming home to a house that is totally dark after a long ass day. There is nothing to look forward to except a surly cat who wants to rip my eyes out because he's hungry.

What's worse is that I unwrap the nasty sub I had to grab because I didn't eat all day, then sit with the tv as my company as I eat the stupid sub as fast as I can because I don't want to taste it. There isn't anyone around but me. It's the most depressing thing I've been through. I'm busting with tons of news of what happened to me that day, because it was more than a regular day - I had a big track meet, had to walk probably two miles between events, dealt with kids who wanted my attention every second, then had to turn around and deal with kids who just get so frustrated they tell me to go away, my big ass test to determine whether I'll keep my job next year is in two weeks, I have an early meeting in the morning dealing with test crap, the kid I had such a hard time with last year is back and wants to help with practice - so what do I do - there are two outdoor lights that have been burnt out, I'm still waiting to hear from my mortgage company who was supposed to have sent a ton of forms for me to fill out but I'll have to call and ask them to resend, my stupid tonsils are so swollen it's hard to swallow again, and it goes on.

So then it hits me that this is what life will be like. Me, sitting in my house crying because the stress is too much for me to handle, because the person I'm afraid I've come to depend on isn't available. Im not that magnanimous, however, I have to say that everything is fine, do your thing when all I want to say is - nope. I want this to be about me, because it is my turn for it to be about me. I will NOT take a back seat to anything again.

But I don't, and I resent myself for it - again. I really do hate everything about my life, and if I didn't have that stupid ass meeting at 7 a.m. I'd be drunk off my ass in an attempt to forget everything. And now, I'm so upset my nose is all stopped up and I have huge headache from the freakin' crying.

Too Young a Whore

Why is it girls have to belittle themselves with sex. I recently watch it all unfold first hand between a 17 year old girl and a 16-year old boy.

The boy currently has a girlfriend, but the 17 yo girl thought she could lure this boy away from his girlfriend. So the flirting and way over the top stupidity began. This was grabass to the extreme. Just watching them made me want to hurl; I was not alone. People would walk the other way when they saw this nauseating wanna be couple walk by. The girl was all over the boy, smiling at his stupid jokes, stroking his arms, pressing her breasts into him, squealing as he squirted her with water in what was obviously a phallic metaphor.

Then she started driving him around town - where ever he wanted to go in fact. He'd call her up and she'd be right there; this boy doesn't have his own wheels. All this time, the boy was still with his longtime gf - who he claimed to being "problems" with to the 17 yo. Finally, after two weeks of heavy flirting, they did it.

And then he lost interest in the 17 yo and went back to his long time gf. Now, the 17 yo is heart broken because she actually thought that sleeping with this boy would win his heart. I have no idea why she is surprised over this. All her friends and all his told her he was just using her to get laid. But this girl stupidly thought that she could turn his heart in her favor (she's looking for a date to prom - I know double standard blah blah).

The sad thing is - this girl is starting to get a reputation as an easy one nighter. Give her a little attention and she'll be yours for a mere two weeks worth of work (bj in a week). She's up to number six now - according to the rumors and the boys who claim to have been with her. Whether she's nailed all of them or not doesn't matter - just the appearance of being a whore has tainted her to the "good boys." And she laments that no boy who is sweet, kind, and caring will even look at her.

I wonder why. She's not the type of girl one would go steady with for more than a week because, damn, the boy gets what he wants on the first try. I feel bad for her, she will always be expecting loyalty for sex - just doesn't happen.

It was hot today. About 95 degrees around 2 p.m. - the same time I went outside to mow the yard. I got up late because I worked about 18 hours the day before. It was at a track meet in the sun (it worked out because my kid is going to the state meet) and was it hot.

But, today I realized, again, I have limitations that I didn't used to have. It's all very depressing to know that 10 years ago the heat wouldn't have matter. In fact, the heat would was always a welcoming thing. I hate being cold. I'm tired of being cold, and I mean that both literally and figuratively. So, i thought, why not? I'll get up and mow the yard today.

I don't know how to use the riding lawn mower, but that's okay because the yard is super hilly and I'd prolly end up rolling the mower anyway. So, I pushed the entire yard - hills, forested area, and even all the stupid poison ivy that grows around the nefarious edges. It was really hot. Did I mention that?

It took way longer than needed to mow the yard. I had to take several breaks during the mowing process in order to stop the whole passing point from heat exhaustion thing. I could feel my skin tingling, the hair on my scalp standing on end, my tongue drying out, my eyesight blurring. Something that would have taken me all of 45 minutes 10 years ago instead took about 2 hours.

The worst part? The rest of my day was shot because my tank was empty - shot. I had nothing left. I took a shower and then crashed on the bed. I was awoken to my cat's furry face resting on my cheek - he apparently was worn out from watching me all day.

I don't want to grow any older without someone else to be here to share life. This alone thing is really really getting old. Too bad I'll never trust anyone enough to allow that to happen.

Stop Being Stupid

If a meeting is supposed to be on a certain day - there is no way it should be changed at 416 on the day BEFORE. Plans have been made, lives have been messed with. Why, o' fearless and braindead leader, do you insist on being so inept at everything that you can't figure that out.

Yeah, I know you'll write me up. But I have your email stating the date change. I'm going to print it out when I get to work tomorrow, just in case you have plans to screw me over - which I know you do because you are trying to cover your own ass at the moment. Because, that ass has fucked up so severely that the big boss is lookin' at ya now.

I have no desire to save your job. I'm fighting for mine; I have a house that I can barely hang on to. I don't care so much that you have a wife and kids. At this point in time, I'm in my own lifeboat heading for shore and you want to keep poking holes in it so that I don't reach the shore. I'm not sure I understand this considering there's plenty of room on the shore for everyone. If you could just figure that out - it'd be wonderful and I'd have your back.

As it is, I trust you about as much as I trust my ex. I know you're looking for every angle to make me look bad so you look better. Ridiculous. Aren't we all in it for one purpose? At least I thought so.

Stop changing the rules of the game as you go along - you'll find all the players will take their balls and go elsewhere.

It's Just Not Fair

I have solved the secret to the world; and I did it all with the help of a bunch of self-centered bastards. These particular bastards like to bitch and moan about every little thing that's wrong with them.

They think everything should be fair. Fair does not exist. It's simple. Everyone wants what's fair. But, hey, there is no fair. What's right for me isn't the same for you; and for me to bitch and complain about it won't solve the problem.

What if I want a twinkie and you want a twinkie, and I don't like to share - then it's just not fair for you but I don't care so much because I think twinkies are yummy. You need to deal with the fact that I have a twinkie and you don't, and Im not giving you any because I don't care that you are twinkieless. Everyone wants a twinkie, but only a few have them. Is it fair? Nope. Is it supposed to be fair? Nope. Is it a good thing that not everyone has access to the twinkies? Most definitely. If everyone had a twinkie, then people wouldn't even be interested in twinkies anymore, they'd be all "I want a Little Debbie."

And here comes the not fair cry when it's discovered that Little Debbies are in short supply and only a few people were able to procur the sweet little cakes. I think people need to get over it. Most don't share. Most don't care. Most are selfish heartless bastards who like to hoard their twinkies or Little Debbies.

Find your own snack cake that works for you and savor it. Don't be snack cake mackin' on others. It's not fair. And, thusly, I'm hoarding my twinkies in the fire proof box I keep the important documents in.

It's a full moon tonight. People are strange.

Trust me

Yes, I've messed up my life. I made a horribly bad choice of a husband who in turn left me sprawled in a big ol' mud pit. My bad. I've learned my lesson about trust - don't do it. I'm coming back from that. I've scraped most of the mud off me now. I'm getting clean.

But, yikeys. My 'rents don't see it that way. One big horrible decision and they think they need to make all my decisions for me. I am quite capable of making my own decisions. In fact, Im quite capable of failing epically again and again. It's good to fail, because now I know what to not do again. I need to fail. I need to not have a safety net sometimes.

I need to make even more poor uninformed choices in life. I need to not be guilt tripped into everything I do. That's not a life. That's a zombie living out another life for one's 'rents. My 'rents have fucked up their lives. I'm rescuing mine. Back off 'rents. I wish I could say that to them. But, it will never happen.

Im 34 - i shouldn't have to rebel. Im tired of rebeling. If I mess up - I'll fix it. Im fixing the disaster my ex created for me. I'm saving money. Im not buying any and everything I see. I'm not wasting my finances. There isn't anything in this world that can't be fixed or changed or handled into a new situation.

Believe in me. That's all. I can handle it now. All I need is someone to believe that Im not a total basketcase or a loophead or ragemonger. I do know what Im doing - it may not seem like it at times, but that's ok too, I need to fail so I don't do it again.

News of the day

So, Im not going to be so stupid as a colleague and slap my name to a barrage of hate against the profession that keeps the roof over my head and food in my cats' feed bowls. How stupid can one be to unleash his unfounded and quite frankly, gay-ass, thoughts of his profession online and then go on to put his real name on the crap that emits from his worthless fat little fingers. Parents aren't gonna want a self-proclaimed anarchist and atheist teaching their kids.

And my favorite piece of news for the day: my ex is boring.
This was confirmed by a professional broadcaster when he was interviewed for a taped weekly radio show a local radio station is beginning. Apparently, he has reverted to his previous inability to think or have an orginal thought. "I don't know how well our sports teams will do."
Also, the ex, according to the totally unbiased guy is an ass for not coming prepared to answer questions, but is also so big (fat) that his open mouth heavy breathing made for unclean sound.

Second favorite news of the day: the ex and the whore are already fighting.
she ran to the only person at school who will listen to her and cried about how mean he was to her this morning. Let the games begin.

Maybe it will be all good in the end. It'll be my turn soon.

Worn Out

I never knew this was so hard. For the first time, I'm just worn down. I need help; I need support.

There's a reason there are no single coaches for long. They either burn out, and wear down because dealing with kids in such a competitive environment is just plain out emotionally and physically taxing. Married coaches are all the rage.

I didn't get it before, but damn that support at home is a needed and desperate thing. Someone to help with the household chores. Someone to cook. Someone to just listen. Someone whom you know will be there when you've had the roughest day ever and had to deal with irate parents. Someone to unleash your frustrations on and knew that they will still be there for you.

Help isn't something I like to ask for, nor do I seek out. Im way too stubborn for that. But, jeez, I need it now. I want to come home to someone who's excited to see me. Someone who will make me smile and forget my day. Hell, a big warm hug would be heaven at the moment.

On Borrowed Time

You were never really mine to begin with. I don't know where you came from, but you were there one day. My finger hovered over the accept button.

Did I want you as a friend? Sure, why not, I thought. What could it hurt. Silly me. It could hurt me, but I didn't know it then. I've had you on loan for all this time, all the while knowing I'd have to give you back at some point.

And this point would not be of my choosing. Someone else gets to pick the point in time when you are gone from me. I still don't have control. You mean well, you don't understand what I already know. I am the least important thing in your life at this moment; as I should be. But, to me, you mean way too much. I really messed up and let you in, and now Im doing the best I can to hurry up and close the floodgates before the deluge sweeps me away in this delightful daydream of happiness.

I know it's not real, I do. It's just hard to keep that in mind when you sound so sincere, and you think it's something real. Your life is what's real. Im not. I'm here, so far away with no means of keeping you. I have absolutely nothing to offer you. I want you to be happy; I am not the vehicle for this.

Case in point - you are the most gorgeous male I have ever seen; and I am just a wet paper bag of a female. Nothing.

I know what's coming. I'm getting off the train tracks as fast as I can. I don't want to be obliterated by the train I can see and hear in the distance. You are the family I want forever. You are the forever I can never have.

Realization

Where I live or whom I live with is of no concern to you - ex spouse and asshole.

With those words something moved in me, and with it came a deep realization. The ex has no sense of humor, and is ashamed of his new life. So much so that he can't even be bothered to tell me where he now lives - though it is within a mile of my current house. Wouldn't a person in love and all excited about their life be telling the world about this new found perfection? I guess I made the mistake, sometime during the 18 years that I knew my ex, of thinking he and I were actually friends at some point.

If you were moving, would you not at least tell people, hey, I moved. He hasn't even told the people he considers his "friends" that he's moving in with his whore. Who does that? I thought I knew him, apparently I never did. I like to be happy, even though I haven't been in a really long time. I think I've forgotten how to maintain a happy state of being for more than a moment. But, now, Im thinking back and I don't think he's ever been happy with what he had or where he was going in life.

With that realization, and the fact that he is least fun person I know, good riddance. I will stop thinking that he and I were ever friends because I know what friends do for each other; and he's never done anything a true friend would do. I owe him nothing. His is the asshole who cheated on me with the whore who had pretended to be my friend - and nothing more.

Oh, and my response to his heartless email regarding my concerns - "no longer at this address" on those important documents he continues to have sent to my address because he still considers it his "permanent address."