I feel like my mom is ruining my life, and maybe I am old enough that I shouldn't be letting her do that. If I were more mature, then it wouldn't bother me so much. I wouldn't feel the need to be crazy and go talk to other people about it, who then tell me that I'm crazy because they've met my mom and she's awkward or okay, or because it's crazy to say the things that I say.
She told me today for about 45 minutes that my boyfriend was on the verge of dumping me, that I had successfully ruined my best relationship-- the last one I'll ever had-- before it really had the chance to begin. And lets face it, I've made some mistakes. Some pretty big ones. Maybe Saturday's was the biggest because it sticks out to me the most in my memory.
I called my mom to tell her that my car had broken down. She said she would spread the word amongst the family and that we could find a car for me to use until mine gets fixed. Then she immediately called back and told me that I had to attend my middle school's alumni function that evening. 1. I just told her I had no car and was waiting to get it fixed until I could afford to pay for it myself. 2. I had plans for the evening. I tried to explain this to her, but got angrier and more frustrated when it was clear that she wasn't listening to me, and she picked up on it in my voice because she was suddenly calling me a "fucking cunt" and then I paused wondering if I should say it back because it wasn't mature and my boyfriend was in the next room, but then I said it back because I didn't want her to be the bad guy and it was in the moment, and maybe it doesn't make sense now, but it did at the time. it happened. My boyfriend heard me call my mom a "fucking cunt" over the phone and then I couldn't even be sad about it because i had to act justified in saying it or I would completely fall apart. I had to pretend I didn't say it.
Maybe that was a big thing amongst millions of tiny things creating rifts, but i feel the wedge driven between us. I'm nasty and immature. Absolutely worthless. My own mother tells me she would have aborted me if she had known I would turn out this way. I guess a really nice non dysfunctional male liking me should be incentive for me to change, but obviously he is quickly realizing that I'm just a little off, and maybe a little too much for him to want to handle.
I used to think he might be a pushover. He is not at all. He will make his displeasure evident, but he might be the type to still let people do what they want and just be quietly angry at them. I don't like those looks. Can you break up with someone because you don't trust their angry looks when they've been so good to you?
Is it really good though? Or is it just better than what I've known? I can't tell and its driving me crazy. It drives me crazy when my mom spends the whole evening telling me basically that she designed me to be a loner, that I don't deserve relationships, that no one would ever want to date me, you have a fucking daughter, you have fucking aspergers, you're a fucking bitch-cunt--- no wonder i constantly pick at my face, ruin my friendships, etc etc
She's not evil by any means. She's just immature and I don't know how not to be emotionally involved with the woman who raised me. She is holding me back, and I don't know how to be free.
I would love to slow down or even go back a few steps. I don't want to break up, but I hate feeling like I'm falling in love one minute and hating him for things he hasn't even done the next.
Monday, October 31, 2011
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Boohoo I have a boyfriend
This week's major issue: I decided to date someone. Now I have a whole new host of pathetic things to be upset about, ie things that aren't real problems. He's a nice guy. He's got a good job. He really likes me, and we like to do the same things... but...................................I have a baby, and I don't trust anyone and I can't do everything as well as I could do something if I just had one thing to focus on. I'm only going to live one life- so I guess I should do everything and go hard, but I just don't have any energy. I hang out with him after Talin goes to bed, but now it takes twice as long and I don't want to leave. It also doesn't feel real because how can I have a relationship without Talin being a huge part of it and there all the time? Maybe I would just rather play house. I know its not fair to anyone to be doing this. Maybe its okay for other single moms to still try and have relationships, but I really feel like at this point in my life I should be atoning for my sins. As I was told a week ago at my office, "You ruined your life when you were 18", and that's how i feel and I don't deserve any thing, and I don't want anything except to show other people, that yes, I can take care of myself. I'm not a drain on society, and hopefully, someday, when I'm making more than 13 an hour maybe I won't be.
I'm so tired that Talin does her normal four year old things, like touching everything and playing with disgusting things and I just want to snap at her because I don't want to be covered with slime and I don't want my stuff to be broken. I can't afford to get new stuff. I'm forever tainted with slime.
I hate that Im younger than all the other parents. Yesterday one of them, Drake, waved to me from his gigantic SUV and asked me how I was doing. What did I say?
"I'm WET! How are you?"
"Good," he said, giving me a weird look and zooming away so fast that his car hit a puddle and splashed me.
Then I remembered the sexual connotation with wet and thought shit.
I can't take her to birthday parties. The other parents won't talk to me, and they'll all know that I'm only 23 and that I'm a piece of shit who decided not to wear a condom, and I'm probably stupid too or else I would have gotten an abortion, and I'm single and don't have a good job and have nothing in common with anyone.
Same thing with people my age, only they just don't get that I have a baby. I can't go out before nine. I probably shouldn't go out at all. I probably shouldn't have any friends because I had a baby and I have to take care of her and do nothing else because I don't deserve to be anything else, because I made a mistake when I was 18. I guess I could look at it as other people are jealous, but my mom always told me that other people know that we are trash and that's why they don't talk to us. Maybe they wish they hadn't had to spend millions on fertility treatments or that their kids were out of the house, or that they werent' going through menopause.
I hate this and I hate that no one understands--- or the people who could understand are just so completely neurotic, deluded and stupid that I can't have a real conversation with them. I have a baby. Soon I'm going to have to live with her on my own. I'll never have a good job. I'll never have a relationship. I'll just start collecting cats when she's grown up and maybe move back in with my mom and we can grow old together collecting cats and selling collectible books to keep the cats alive forever.
I'm very comfortable with that plan for my life. I've resigned myself to it. Its just a dream to be famous. Its probably not all its cracked up to be to live the societally enforced american dream of kids and a husband and summer vacations. I'm very comfortable with being a bad person who did bad things who was born bad and has no other choice. Choices are hard to make.
Then again, I also overthink. Haven't I been testing and grooming my boyfriend for this position for months? haven't I asked him to do things with me that I would never think to ask anyone but a very serious relationship person to do? And I guess he does the same thing to me, but I was too busy paying attention to my self to notice it- and at that time, the fact that I ffelt he appreciated me so much more than I could even bother to pay attention to him really bothered me, and now it bothers me that I want him to just tell me stuff about him. I don't want to like him, I want to be completely turned off by his cross bite and his pale skin, but unfortunately his cross bite isn't very bad and most of the time I don't notice it, and also unfortunately in spite of his pale skin he gets along with people from all walks of life, and unfortunately we are very compatible and get along and I just wish that I wanted to hurt him because then maybe something would make sense.
Does that sound crazy? Allow me to ellucidate, which apparently isn't spelled that way-- I am a villain. I can't like someone so nice without some sort of bad intention. My best guy friend, grant knows that I'm a bad person and always tells me my bad intentions before they know them. my mom tells me that I'm the enemy, and the most selfish person she knows. She says if she had known I was going to turn out this way then she would not have had me. The boy I used to love told me that I was a bitch and a whore and that I was out to ruin his life. My ex boyfriend told me that I was clingy and needy and a snoop, and that I always had bad intentions. My ex step dad told me he knew about my bad intentions, and everyone seems to know that I am subconsciously doing things because I'm inherently evil before I know. Its gotten to the point where I don't know what I feel because everyone is telling me I'm bad-- maybe if my parents had been married-- then Rae would have been able to stay at nells slumber party in 7th grade even though I was there. I was just born evil and shouldn't have been born.
So see, I must be planning to be a gold digger, or to hurt him, or to do something to ruin his life because that's what I do, Amber yo, she's a trap. I don't have time for everything. I don't want to do everything. Maybe if I'm such a piece of shit I should be burned at the stake.
I'm just making myself angrier talking like this. See, I manipulate my own emotions. I can't stand anyone right now. I feel like people are pricking me with needles. Crazy or tired or tired of being crazy? I wish I was 14 and could put my head through a wall, but that didn't make the world make more sense either.
I'm so tired that Talin does her normal four year old things, like touching everything and playing with disgusting things and I just want to snap at her because I don't want to be covered with slime and I don't want my stuff to be broken. I can't afford to get new stuff. I'm forever tainted with slime.
I hate that Im younger than all the other parents. Yesterday one of them, Drake, waved to me from his gigantic SUV and asked me how I was doing. What did I say?
"I'm WET! How are you?"
"Good," he said, giving me a weird look and zooming away so fast that his car hit a puddle and splashed me.
Then I remembered the sexual connotation with wet and thought shit.
I can't take her to birthday parties. The other parents won't talk to me, and they'll all know that I'm only 23 and that I'm a piece of shit who decided not to wear a condom, and I'm probably stupid too or else I would have gotten an abortion, and I'm single and don't have a good job and have nothing in common with anyone.
Same thing with people my age, only they just don't get that I have a baby. I can't go out before nine. I probably shouldn't go out at all. I probably shouldn't have any friends because I had a baby and I have to take care of her and do nothing else because I don't deserve to be anything else, because I made a mistake when I was 18. I guess I could look at it as other people are jealous, but my mom always told me that other people know that we are trash and that's why they don't talk to us. Maybe they wish they hadn't had to spend millions on fertility treatments or that their kids were out of the house, or that they werent' going through menopause.
I hate this and I hate that no one understands--- or the people who could understand are just so completely neurotic, deluded and stupid that I can't have a real conversation with them. I have a baby. Soon I'm going to have to live with her on my own. I'll never have a good job. I'll never have a relationship. I'll just start collecting cats when she's grown up and maybe move back in with my mom and we can grow old together collecting cats and selling collectible books to keep the cats alive forever.
I'm very comfortable with that plan for my life. I've resigned myself to it. Its just a dream to be famous. Its probably not all its cracked up to be to live the societally enforced american dream of kids and a husband and summer vacations. I'm very comfortable with being a bad person who did bad things who was born bad and has no other choice. Choices are hard to make.
Then again, I also overthink. Haven't I been testing and grooming my boyfriend for this position for months? haven't I asked him to do things with me that I would never think to ask anyone but a very serious relationship person to do? And I guess he does the same thing to me, but I was too busy paying attention to my self to notice it- and at that time, the fact that I ffelt he appreciated me so much more than I could even bother to pay attention to him really bothered me, and now it bothers me that I want him to just tell me stuff about him. I don't want to like him, I want to be completely turned off by his cross bite and his pale skin, but unfortunately his cross bite isn't very bad and most of the time I don't notice it, and also unfortunately in spite of his pale skin he gets along with people from all walks of life, and unfortunately we are very compatible and get along and I just wish that I wanted to hurt him because then maybe something would make sense.
Does that sound crazy? Allow me to ellucidate, which apparently isn't spelled that way-- I am a villain. I can't like someone so nice without some sort of bad intention. My best guy friend, grant knows that I'm a bad person and always tells me my bad intentions before they know them. my mom tells me that I'm the enemy, and the most selfish person she knows. She says if she had known I was going to turn out this way then she would not have had me. The boy I used to love told me that I was a bitch and a whore and that I was out to ruin his life. My ex boyfriend told me that I was clingy and needy and a snoop, and that I always had bad intentions. My ex step dad told me he knew about my bad intentions, and everyone seems to know that I am subconsciously doing things because I'm inherently evil before I know. Its gotten to the point where I don't know what I feel because everyone is telling me I'm bad-- maybe if my parents had been married-- then Rae would have been able to stay at nells slumber party in 7th grade even though I was there. I was just born evil and shouldn't have been born.
So see, I must be planning to be a gold digger, or to hurt him, or to do something to ruin his life because that's what I do, Amber yo, she's a trap. I don't have time for everything. I don't want to do everything. Maybe if I'm such a piece of shit I should be burned at the stake.
I'm just making myself angrier talking like this. See, I manipulate my own emotions. I can't stand anyone right now. I feel like people are pricking me with needles. Crazy or tired or tired of being crazy? I wish I was 14 and could put my head through a wall, but that didn't make the world make more sense either.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Songs I've written this year...
Maybe I'm...tired of these games
maybe I'm the kind of girl
who is just a bit naive
and maybe when I'm close to you
I sometimes forget to breathe
all I want to do, all I can say
is I am tired of these games
maybe I'm the kind of girl
who obsesses and overthinks
maybe I'm the kind of girl
who acts like a slut when she drinks
maybe I'm just sick of feeling stupid
and maybe I'm wrong that's what I've concluded
maybe I just want to complain
that I am tired of these games
I always lose
I don't know how to play
what are the rules?
maybe I'm the kind of girl
who's really much better off alone
and maybe I, just don't have the time
to sit and wait by my phone
maybe that's an outdated reference
'cause my cell's right here in my pocket
but maybe you should have called me back
'cause you had a good thing and you lost it
maybe we'll meet again someday
but for now I'm tired of these games
I always lose
I don't know how to play
what are the rules?
I'm tired of these games.
ONLY FEELINGS
All the bugs come out and watch me as I play
creeping out of corners spots of black and gray
mirrors on the wall tell of my past transgressions
scars on my skin are clear in my reflection
i'm only happy when i'm breathing
when i can't breathe at all
i am restless unless I'm breathless
what is life?
Only feelings.
I feel like I'm going to fall off the world
on the edge of chaos completely unheard
why does connection to the physical
only let me know that I'm expendable?
I'm only happy when I'm breathing
when I can't breathe at all
I am restless unless I'm breathless
what is life?
only feelings.
Now is nothing the past is a haze
the future is scary that's why we get blazed
I'm only happy when I'm breathing
when I can't breathe at all
I am restless unless I'm breathless
what is life?
only feelings.
worth it
it turns out the best thing about you
was the music that we listened to
not the long nights we malingered
they don't linger in my memory the same
when I look back and remember
even though it hurts it was worth it
if you think of me and remember
even though you won't it was worth it.
it was worth it.
I can still feel your lips on mine
no matter how I try to forget you
truth is that I loved you
more before I had you
the facade of your smile
and your lazy arm around me
the way you pushed my head down
when i look back and remember
even though it hurts it was worth it
if you think of me and remember
even though you won't it was worth it.
it was worth it.
There were no ideals hacked away
i'd been hurt before
but i thought you were better
now you've forgotten all about me
meant to bes are for a moment in time
our moment is over, you were never mine
when i look back and remember
even though it hurts it was worth it, it was worth it
if you think of me and remember
even though you probably won't
its still worth it, it was worth it.
Cheyanne
*started today so only a chorus
Cheyanne is drowning
can't you see
her big blue eyes
staring up at you
from beneath the water
if you looked
you would find
the universe
that's inside her soul
and then you'd know
maybe I'm the kind of girl
who is just a bit naive
and maybe when I'm close to you
I sometimes forget to breathe
all I want to do, all I can say
is I am tired of these games
maybe I'm the kind of girl
who obsesses and overthinks
maybe I'm the kind of girl
who acts like a slut when she drinks
maybe I'm just sick of feeling stupid
and maybe I'm wrong that's what I've concluded
maybe I just want to complain
that I am tired of these games
I always lose
I don't know how to play
what are the rules?
maybe I'm the kind of girl
who's really much better off alone
and maybe I, just don't have the time
to sit and wait by my phone
maybe that's an outdated reference
'cause my cell's right here in my pocket
but maybe you should have called me back
'cause you had a good thing and you lost it
maybe we'll meet again someday
but for now I'm tired of these games
I always lose
I don't know how to play
what are the rules?
I'm tired of these games.
ONLY FEELINGS
All the bugs come out and watch me as I play
creeping out of corners spots of black and gray
mirrors on the wall tell of my past transgressions
scars on my skin are clear in my reflection
i'm only happy when i'm breathing
when i can't breathe at all
i am restless unless I'm breathless
what is life?
Only feelings.
I feel like I'm going to fall off the world
on the edge of chaos completely unheard
why does connection to the physical
only let me know that I'm expendable?
I'm only happy when I'm breathing
when I can't breathe at all
I am restless unless I'm breathless
what is life?
only feelings.
Now is nothing the past is a haze
the future is scary that's why we get blazed
I'm only happy when I'm breathing
when I can't breathe at all
I am restless unless I'm breathless
what is life?
only feelings.
worth it
it turns out the best thing about you
was the music that we listened to
not the long nights we malingered
they don't linger in my memory the same
when I look back and remember
even though it hurts it was worth it
if you think of me and remember
even though you won't it was worth it.
it was worth it.
I can still feel your lips on mine
no matter how I try to forget you
truth is that I loved you
more before I had you
the facade of your smile
and your lazy arm around me
the way you pushed my head down
when i look back and remember
even though it hurts it was worth it
if you think of me and remember
even though you won't it was worth it.
it was worth it.
There were no ideals hacked away
i'd been hurt before
but i thought you were better
now you've forgotten all about me
meant to bes are for a moment in time
our moment is over, you were never mine
when i look back and remember
even though it hurts it was worth it, it was worth it
if you think of me and remember
even though you probably won't
its still worth it, it was worth it.
Cheyanne
*started today so only a chorus
Cheyanne is drowning
can't you see
her big blue eyes
staring up at you
from beneath the water
if you looked
you would find
the universe
that's inside her soul
and then you'd know
Monday, October 4, 2010
My first day of work
I woke up at 2 AM this morning and couldn't get back to sleep. I'd gone to bed at 11, but then there I was completely awake at 2 in the freaking morning and I lay there til 5:30 thoughts racing through my mind and i was definitely worrying about 'shit that don't matter'.
It's so much easier to worry about boys and lost loves, crazy families, drama, that weight which doesn't want to drop back down to 130 or even anything in the 130s... than it is to worry about what's really going on and what really matters, and even though everything feels like it's falling into place it feels like I'm losing something too.
I got out of bed and went downstairs. Sometimes it's just easier to sleep on the couch. I used to do it all the time in the middle of the night when i'd worry about college when I was in high school, and in college hah! I'd fall asleep on the couch as soon as my family got home and Rachel and Talin could both be screaming and killing each other and I wouldn't wake up until 10 or 11 and then I'd be up til 1 again.
So this morning I wrapped my comforter about my body and went downstairs to lay on the couch.
"Amber, I want you to start doing chores around the house."
Excuse me? Grandma was sitting like a creeper in the dark in the recliner in front of the tv which wasn't even turned on.
"Bleh." I muttered.
"Amber, you're an adult now and you need to start doing chores around the house."
Instead of my normal spiel, "Jesusfuckingchrist I'm starting a job today and got 3 fucking hours of sleep, and I'm the first person in this family to graduate from college since the 1960's and that still isn't enough for you to just leave me the fuck alone??" -- instead of that I said very nicely, calmly, rationally, "It's 5:30 in the morning. Leave me alone." and then I went back up to my room and lay there until 6:30.
With a sigh and a groan and a sad pathetic moan I arose from my bed and went downstairs. I put on the clothes I had picked out for the day.
"Are you excited about your job?" Grandma asked.
"Grrr." Um, being excited is not what it is. I'm not waiting in happy anticipation to sit in an office and answer phones. I'm freaking terrified because I am going to be in an office with a bunch of lawyers and they might yell at me or fire me or I might do something stupid or the daycare might not take Talin because her body is once again covered in little bugbites/sores which could very well be streptocccoccus or whatever I'm not spelling that right and I don't care.
so yeah, then my pants wouldn't zip. Shit shit shit. This my friends, is why I must lose weight. I cannot afford to buy new pants and all my pants that have no holes are too small for me. So i wore a skirt and was cold. all freaking day. and it was raining out side and it was very sad.
So then I wake up Talin and get her ready and give her a cheese stick for breakfast. I considered eating breakfast myself, but then decided that there was absolutely nothing appetizing in the house. Grandma followed me around talking about how terrible babydaddy's family is and how it's their fault that Talin gets these sores and how I needed to do something about it.
I definitely cried because she and my mom both wanted me to call off work my first day and take Talin to the doctor. Mommy said, "Talin gets these all the time. You're going to have to take off work every week." and I was very worried that I'd have to quit before i even began but then I called baby's dad and he said, "They're bugbites. What else can they be?" and I decided that for today they'd have to be bugbites even though I know that they are not. If they are bugbites then why the hell does he let her play outside without bugspray???
Finally, I got Talin to the preschool. I listened to Billy Joel the whole way because he always makes me feel better. i really should just make a cd of his greatest hits. I took her into the preschool and led her to her classroom and she froze. The teacher guided her away and I left wanting to cry, but feeling a little more calm. They let her in.
I drove to my job and sat in the car for a few minutes because I was early, but then went in. I made it. Although, everyone else was not dressed in real office attire like I was. They were kind of casual. There were a lot of jeans. why don't people dress up for the office???
I'd have felt awkward about this, but really, I didn't know and what's wrong with looking good? So then I spent my day answering phones and scanning documents, making coffee and wishing i knew how to do more so that I could make my day go by faster. I'll do better tomorrow. Maybe I can make some friends or casual acquaintances. I need to take my baby to a doctor and to stop worrying about shit that don't matter. I'm where I wanted to be. It's a little lonely, but it's only the beginning and I was lonely before and I like being alone.
It's a little depressing because I'm a grown up now and I don't make enough to make ends meet and I'm not old enough or mature enough to feel grown up. I'm just a little wiser than some people about some things, but its just that I know these things. I don't feel the knowledge. I'm sorry for spreading bad karma and I'm sorry for feeling so needy. If I ignored my neediness when I felt needy then I'd be a lot better off. if I didn't engage in behaviors which I knew would lead to regret, sadness, neediness then I'd be a little less human, but maybe better off.
I was in a relationship that sucked once, and then I loved a boy that used me, and now, I just want to be me and on my own and secure with that and happy with that and not keep thinking about what happened before and trying to drown it in other aspects of my existence just to have it all come rushing back at me. Sure, maybe I've changed on the inside a little, but I still have all the same responses even without all the feelings and sometimes the feelings come rushing back and it hurts. But I know it doesn't really and that Friday was a huge mistake and that I just shouldn't have gone there again and I knew it then but it was more interesting; it was more...
And with that, I have to say that i'm focusing on the wrong things again. Relationships are everything but not boyfriend/girlfriend. Friends are everything. Family is everything. I desperately want a guy to be everything, but I really don't want that too. I want to like a guy and like having my own space.i dont' know how to give myself space and always end up asking for things I don't even want. To hang out when I don't even want to. Just to ask. Just to get a response. No more. I'm a woman and I'm going to forget about it even though its so nice to think of your life as a tragic love story. That ain't how it is and you be doin' good for yourself, girl.
No stress no stress no stress, girl you deserve nothin' but the best.
ahh jesse mccartney. if only you weren't so aryan.
It's so much easier to worry about boys and lost loves, crazy families, drama, that weight which doesn't want to drop back down to 130 or even anything in the 130s... than it is to worry about what's really going on and what really matters, and even though everything feels like it's falling into place it feels like I'm losing something too.
I got out of bed and went downstairs. Sometimes it's just easier to sleep on the couch. I used to do it all the time in the middle of the night when i'd worry about college when I was in high school, and in college hah! I'd fall asleep on the couch as soon as my family got home and Rachel and Talin could both be screaming and killing each other and I wouldn't wake up until 10 or 11 and then I'd be up til 1 again.
So this morning I wrapped my comforter about my body and went downstairs to lay on the couch.
"Amber, I want you to start doing chores around the house."
Excuse me? Grandma was sitting like a creeper in the dark in the recliner in front of the tv which wasn't even turned on.
"Bleh." I muttered.
"Amber, you're an adult now and you need to start doing chores around the house."
Instead of my normal spiel, "Jesusfuckingchrist I'm starting a job today and got 3 fucking hours of sleep, and I'm the first person in this family to graduate from college since the 1960's and that still isn't enough for you to just leave me the fuck alone??" -- instead of that I said very nicely, calmly, rationally, "It's 5:30 in the morning. Leave me alone." and then I went back up to my room and lay there until 6:30.
With a sigh and a groan and a sad pathetic moan I arose from my bed and went downstairs. I put on the clothes I had picked out for the day.
"Are you excited about your job?" Grandma asked.
"Grrr." Um, being excited is not what it is. I'm not waiting in happy anticipation to sit in an office and answer phones. I'm freaking terrified because I am going to be in an office with a bunch of lawyers and they might yell at me or fire me or I might do something stupid or the daycare might not take Talin because her body is once again covered in little bugbites/sores which could very well be streptocccoccus or whatever I'm not spelling that right and I don't care.
so yeah, then my pants wouldn't zip. Shit shit shit. This my friends, is why I must lose weight. I cannot afford to buy new pants and all my pants that have no holes are too small for me. So i wore a skirt and was cold. all freaking day. and it was raining out side and it was very sad.
So then I wake up Talin and get her ready and give her a cheese stick for breakfast. I considered eating breakfast myself, but then decided that there was absolutely nothing appetizing in the house. Grandma followed me around talking about how terrible babydaddy's family is and how it's their fault that Talin gets these sores and how I needed to do something about it.
I definitely cried because she and my mom both wanted me to call off work my first day and take Talin to the doctor. Mommy said, "Talin gets these all the time. You're going to have to take off work every week." and I was very worried that I'd have to quit before i even began but then I called baby's dad and he said, "They're bugbites. What else can they be?" and I decided that for today they'd have to be bugbites even though I know that they are not. If they are bugbites then why the hell does he let her play outside without bugspray???
Finally, I got Talin to the preschool. I listened to Billy Joel the whole way because he always makes me feel better. i really should just make a cd of his greatest hits. I took her into the preschool and led her to her classroom and she froze. The teacher guided her away and I left wanting to cry, but feeling a little more calm. They let her in.
I drove to my job and sat in the car for a few minutes because I was early, but then went in. I made it. Although, everyone else was not dressed in real office attire like I was. They were kind of casual. There were a lot of jeans. why don't people dress up for the office???
I'd have felt awkward about this, but really, I didn't know and what's wrong with looking good? So then I spent my day answering phones and scanning documents, making coffee and wishing i knew how to do more so that I could make my day go by faster. I'll do better tomorrow. Maybe I can make some friends or casual acquaintances. I need to take my baby to a doctor and to stop worrying about shit that don't matter. I'm where I wanted to be. It's a little lonely, but it's only the beginning and I was lonely before and I like being alone.
It's a little depressing because I'm a grown up now and I don't make enough to make ends meet and I'm not old enough or mature enough to feel grown up. I'm just a little wiser than some people about some things, but its just that I know these things. I don't feel the knowledge. I'm sorry for spreading bad karma and I'm sorry for feeling so needy. If I ignored my neediness when I felt needy then I'd be a lot better off. if I didn't engage in behaviors which I knew would lead to regret, sadness, neediness then I'd be a little less human, but maybe better off.
I was in a relationship that sucked once, and then I loved a boy that used me, and now, I just want to be me and on my own and secure with that and happy with that and not keep thinking about what happened before and trying to drown it in other aspects of my existence just to have it all come rushing back at me. Sure, maybe I've changed on the inside a little, but I still have all the same responses even without all the feelings and sometimes the feelings come rushing back and it hurts. But I know it doesn't really and that Friday was a huge mistake and that I just shouldn't have gone there again and I knew it then but it was more interesting; it was more...
And with that, I have to say that i'm focusing on the wrong things again. Relationships are everything but not boyfriend/girlfriend. Friends are everything. Family is everything. I desperately want a guy to be everything, but I really don't want that too. I want to like a guy and like having my own space.i dont' know how to give myself space and always end up asking for things I don't even want. To hang out when I don't even want to. Just to ask. Just to get a response. No more. I'm a woman and I'm going to forget about it even though its so nice to think of your life as a tragic love story. That ain't how it is and you be doin' good for yourself, girl.
No stress no stress no stress, girl you deserve nothin' but the best.
ahh jesse mccartney. if only you weren't so aryan.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
I want to be naughty.
Whenever I visit Red Hot and Blue, my former place of employment, I like to saunter in like I own the place grab my drink, maybe wander into the kitchen-- where I'll often have to stop in the doorway because a manager or other authoritative person is there and say, "Oh shit. I keep getting lost and ending up here." Otherwise, especially if Angela is there I'll be like, "hey, can you get me some banana pudding" and she'll say, "Sure baby. Get a container." Then I'll grab one randomly and she'll say, "No! Not that one, you stupid? The pint container."
I smile and shrug and get her what she wants then she gives me what I want which I usually immediately hide within my jacket or my shirt and then I wander outside looking guiltily at the manager, usually larry before devouring it with the animalistic passion of someone who hasn't eaten in forever and doesn't know when she'll eat again.
That's the extent my naughtiness goes to nowadays, not that I'm necessarily complaining. It's really fun to misbehave and do things that are not illegal, but that are still just the wrong thing to do. Supposedly at Christmas time we're going to go through the halls of K & C 's apartment and switch everyone's christmas wreaths and then see what happens. See, that's the kind of thing I want to do. When I break laws, 75% of the time its because I think the law is silly and most of the other percent of the time its because I don't realize I'm breaking the law, but that's just not the same as being naughty.
Sometimes it is. Like when we do shots in the car, or just outside of it on the street, but K & C and me don't like to drink and drive, so when we do that there's a DD, or a Taxi close by. We haven't even done that lately. *sigh.*
We used to go to Clarendon and collect "trophies". These were not necessarily trophies per se, but more like interesting belongings of other people. Specifically, leis. People like to go out to bars and dance floors wearing leis apparently. It probably has something to do with something stupid like, "Haha, you just got leid."
Well, fuck. We would go around and unlei people. It was awesome. Christine and I had different tactics. She would go up to a guy, dance with him, ask for his lei and he would say, "Yeah girl, you know I want to lei you," or something to that effect. It was a very effective way to get leid. She got like 3 or 4 on one night.
Me. My MO. I would watch those with leis from afar, nursing their drinks, and I would stealthily stalk them about the ballroom and then... THEN I would run up behind or in front of them, grab the lei and run away. Sometimes it would get caught on their neck. Sometimes they would get very angry and Christine would make me give the lei back. Sometimes they'd give me a look like, "Did you just steal my lei? What the fuck is wrong with you?" and I'd just smile sweetly, and put the lei around Christine's alabaster neck.
I never got leid as much as her, but I feel like my way of lei-ing was slightly more exciting and fun.
There was this one time. it was the time right before we met Patrick the Leprechaun, Harold and Kumar and saw JohnfromFredericksburg. This was the night of Kevins 1 and 2. Kevin1 was your typical drunk fellow who gets separated from his friends on the search for honeys. He started dancing with us and Christine admired his necklace. It was right around St. Patrick's day. His necklace was light up and it had a shamrock on it. Christine had been chatting him up a bit and I was just trying to shake my groove thing in my reckless abandon toddlerlike white girl fashion when she told me, "Amber, I want that necklace."
"I got this." I nodded and winked at her... and then proceeded to do my usual sneak attack steal. The necklace was dropped on the floor in the struggle. It broke a little, but not too badly. Kevin1 looked down at it with tears forming in his eyes, "You broke my necklace."
"Nah dawg nah. It's good." I said with a smile.
"Were you trying to steal my necklace?"
"No, I was trying to dance with you." I smiled cherubically. which is apparently not a word. I need a thesaurus.
"You were trying to steal my necklace. Wasn't she?" he turned to Christine.
Christine looked at me and then at him as if she was going to give my supersecretbutapparentlyobvious plan away.
"Let's just dance, okay?" I suggested, my eyes not moving away from my actual goal which was the necklace. We danced again and this time I got the necklace off of his neck and ran away calling after Christine to follow me before Kevin1 saw us.
Surprisingly, she didn't follow me. I looked back at her and she beckoned me back. Kevin1 was definitely crying about his necklace. what a pussy its just a necklace, I rolled my eyes.
"You were trying to steal my necklace and you broke it!"
"Hey hey, it's okay. how much did it cost anyways? Its just a cheap necklace. You can do without it."
"No I can't. I got it at a festival today. It was $7.50. Why did you steal my necklace?"
"$7.50 is nothing. Don't worry about it. There'll be other festivals and other necklaces."
"Amber, give it back to him." Christine said.
"But its mi-i-ne..." I whi-ined.
"Amber..."
"All right. I'll give it back." Perhaps she didn't see the gleam in my eye. I proceeded to try my Christine type feminine wiles and get the necklace legitimately. Perhaps this plan would have worked in the beginning, but after stealing the necklace twice already and breaking it, I think he was a little suspicious of my motives.
I slammed him against the wall after a bit of dancing and, "Why won't you give me your necklace? you know you want to." and him responding, "No I don't. I like my necklace."
"C'mon," I said "seductively", "What do I gotta do to get this thing?"
"Well..." He said looking down at his pants.
"No, that's really not going to happen."
And then we fought forever over that damn necklace with me trying to slip it over his head while he sobbed and tried to hold it on until Christine pulled us apart and made me leave him alone.
"Christine, I was getting the necklace for you. I had it..."
"Amber, you made him cry."
That was a great night.
I smile and shrug and get her what she wants then she gives me what I want which I usually immediately hide within my jacket or my shirt and then I wander outside looking guiltily at the manager, usually larry before devouring it with the animalistic passion of someone who hasn't eaten in forever and doesn't know when she'll eat again.
That's the extent my naughtiness goes to nowadays, not that I'm necessarily complaining. It's really fun to misbehave and do things that are not illegal, but that are still just the wrong thing to do. Supposedly at Christmas time we're going to go through the halls of K & C 's apartment and switch everyone's christmas wreaths and then see what happens. See, that's the kind of thing I want to do. When I break laws, 75% of the time its because I think the law is silly and most of the other percent of the time its because I don't realize I'm breaking the law, but that's just not the same as being naughty.
Sometimes it is. Like when we do shots in the car, or just outside of it on the street, but K & C and me don't like to drink and drive, so when we do that there's a DD, or a Taxi close by. We haven't even done that lately. *sigh.*
We used to go to Clarendon and collect "trophies". These were not necessarily trophies per se, but more like interesting belongings of other people. Specifically, leis. People like to go out to bars and dance floors wearing leis apparently. It probably has something to do with something stupid like, "Haha, you just got leid."
Well, fuck. We would go around and unlei people. It was awesome. Christine and I had different tactics. She would go up to a guy, dance with him, ask for his lei and he would say, "Yeah girl, you know I want to lei you," or something to that effect. It was a very effective way to get leid. She got like 3 or 4 on one night.
Me. My MO. I would watch those with leis from afar, nursing their drinks, and I would stealthily stalk them about the ballroom and then... THEN I would run up behind or in front of them, grab the lei and run away. Sometimes it would get caught on their neck. Sometimes they would get very angry and Christine would make me give the lei back. Sometimes they'd give me a look like, "Did you just steal my lei? What the fuck is wrong with you?" and I'd just smile sweetly, and put the lei around Christine's alabaster neck.
I never got leid as much as her, but I feel like my way of lei-ing was slightly more exciting and fun.
There was this one time. it was the time right before we met Patrick the Leprechaun, Harold and Kumar and saw JohnfromFredericksburg. This was the night of Kevins 1 and 2. Kevin1 was your typical drunk fellow who gets separated from his friends on the search for honeys. He started dancing with us and Christine admired his necklace. It was right around St. Patrick's day. His necklace was light up and it had a shamrock on it. Christine had been chatting him up a bit and I was just trying to shake my groove thing in my reckless abandon toddlerlike white girl fashion when she told me, "Amber, I want that necklace."
"I got this." I nodded and winked at her... and then proceeded to do my usual sneak attack steal. The necklace was dropped on the floor in the struggle. It broke a little, but not too badly. Kevin1 looked down at it with tears forming in his eyes, "You broke my necklace."
"Nah dawg nah. It's good." I said with a smile.
"Were you trying to steal my necklace?"
"No, I was trying to dance with you." I smiled cherubically. which is apparently not a word. I need a thesaurus.
"You were trying to steal my necklace. Wasn't she?" he turned to Christine.
Christine looked at me and then at him as if she was going to give my supersecretbutapparentlyobvious plan away.
"Let's just dance, okay?" I suggested, my eyes not moving away from my actual goal which was the necklace. We danced again and this time I got the necklace off of his neck and ran away calling after Christine to follow me before Kevin1 saw us.
Surprisingly, she didn't follow me. I looked back at her and she beckoned me back. Kevin1 was definitely crying about his necklace. what a pussy its just a necklace, I rolled my eyes.
"You were trying to steal my necklace and you broke it!"
"Hey hey, it's okay. how much did it cost anyways? Its just a cheap necklace. You can do without it."
"No I can't. I got it at a festival today. It was $7.50. Why did you steal my necklace?"
"$7.50 is nothing. Don't worry about it. There'll be other festivals and other necklaces."
"Amber, give it back to him." Christine said.
"But its mi-i-ne..." I whi-ined.
"Amber..."
"All right. I'll give it back." Perhaps she didn't see the gleam in my eye. I proceeded to try my Christine type feminine wiles and get the necklace legitimately. Perhaps this plan would have worked in the beginning, but after stealing the necklace twice already and breaking it, I think he was a little suspicious of my motives.
I slammed him against the wall after a bit of dancing and, "Why won't you give me your necklace? you know you want to." and him responding, "No I don't. I like my necklace."
"C'mon," I said "seductively", "What do I gotta do to get this thing?"
"Well..." He said looking down at his pants.
"No, that's really not going to happen."
And then we fought forever over that damn necklace with me trying to slip it over his head while he sobbed and tried to hold it on until Christine pulled us apart and made me leave him alone.
"Christine, I was getting the necklace for you. I had it..."
"Amber, you made him cry."
That was a great night.
Monday, September 20, 2010
A Year Ago Yesterday
A year ago yesterday now was a day that will stay with me for no reason other than the fact that I was so stupid. I was miserable then; completely stuck on some little boy. Now I'm miserable because I have no job. If I looked back I'd probably see that I'm miserable every fall and the only really good things about this season are the amazing weather and cool new clothing styles.
I worked at Red Hot and Blue a year ago and I had blonde hair. I'd gotten it cut a year ago to make myself feel pretty because my skin kept breaking out and the people at work told me I looked like a rockstar. I wore a shirt that belonged to my sister. It had a bunch of shoes hanging from a power line and then at the end of the power line there was a person hanging upside down. I loved that shirt. Everybody asked me that day why I was so happy, and I'd tell them, and they'd say, "Oh, Girl... you need to stay away from that," all the while they've got their own man troubles; being with guys who had girlfriends, got around, were in general just not the greatest, but theirs were at least the right age. I tried to argue that was all that was wrong with him; he wasn't the right age, and be reminded no, that wasn't all that was wrong, "He has a girlfriend. Doesn't he sell drugs? I think he's manipulating you."
And he was manipulating me, but I don't think anyone knows to what extent, and I'm embarrassed to say now. A year ago yesterday, I rolled up my rugs when I got off work, and I was happy and excited and I met him at the CVS, and parked my car and climbed into his and made him take me to the mall to get something to eat and he was high so I was mad at him, and for the first time I wasn't happy to see him; didn't want to be around him. He wasn't like I remembered and maybe after two or three months of not seeing someone you can't hold onto your mind's conceptions of them and the feelings they arouse in you. Maybe he was changing, or maybe I could see through his charm and attractiveness. I just wanted something from him. Power, love, money, anything. anything he could give me because I had been expecting him and wanting him for so long that to have anything less than him would have been an insurmountable disappointment.
I was a foolish girl.
He had never parked in a garage you pay for before. He waved the ticket around like he was about to drop it, "What do I do with this?" "That's for when we leave." I scoffed at him. Then inside the mall, I ran to the escalator and down it and he told me to slow down, "I'm too high for this." I just wanted to fuck with him, but then we walked around the perimeter of the mall looking for a place to eat and then I bought him dinner. The waiter was someone who had been in my fiction writing class a little more than a year before, and he remembered me and my stories and told me what a good writer I was. I tried to put myself in the position of the little boy sitting across from me in the booth, but selfishly only thought of what he would think about the fact that someone I hadn't seen in a year approached me and told me how wonderful I was. Would this make me more attractive? One of my male friends had taught me a little about gaming over the summer, but I didn't like to believe it's all a stupid game and you can't just find a person attractive and do whateverthefuck you like with them.
I was sad and annoyed by the end of the meal, and then we went back to my house and I just felt this huge surge of disappointment; like I had gotten nothing for this evening... and he was right here! What I'd been thinking that I wanted all along was right here and I didn't want him anymore, but I still wanted him in case I'd regret not doing it later. So, I let him in the back door, pretended to my family that I was just going to sleep so they wouldn't see him, and then before he left--- I didn't let him leave. I didn't know then, but I suspect now that there are certain things that a girl can do that will make it pretty much definite that she'll get some, but he didn't seem to happy about it. His mouth didn't grab at mine in that hungry way it used to; it was just lips and skin moving against lips and skin, and the sex lasted about 2 seconds. Then he was done with a self satisfied smirk on his face and my mom was banging on my door and turning a key in the lock and I was frantically trying to get my clothes back on.
He started to go out the door and I threw on pants, carrying my shirt. He wasn't going to leave without saying bye to me, and I ran out the door. The lid of the trashcan slammed on the side of the house and I ignored the disapproving gaze of my grandfather.
He was at his car, "You're not wearing a shirt." I rolled my eyes at him and put it on, and said goodbye, then he left and I started to cry, and I knew then that I was stupid and I shouldn't care so much, and I shouldn't have done it, but I couldn't help it because I was stupid, and cared too much.
Then my mom came in my room, drunk, and she wouldn't leave so I couldn't cry and be alone and feel sorry for myself.
In the end that's all it comes down to; I like excuses to feel sorry for myself and someday I'll miss right now just as much or more as I miss a year ago yesterday, and even though I don't believe that right now, I know its true because it's happened before and will happen again.
Goodbye Mary, Goodbye Jane
Will we ever meet again?
feel no sorrow, feel no shame
come tomorrow, feel no pain.
I worked at Red Hot and Blue a year ago and I had blonde hair. I'd gotten it cut a year ago to make myself feel pretty because my skin kept breaking out and the people at work told me I looked like a rockstar. I wore a shirt that belonged to my sister. It had a bunch of shoes hanging from a power line and then at the end of the power line there was a person hanging upside down. I loved that shirt. Everybody asked me that day why I was so happy, and I'd tell them, and they'd say, "Oh, Girl... you need to stay away from that," all the while they've got their own man troubles; being with guys who had girlfriends, got around, were in general just not the greatest, but theirs were at least the right age. I tried to argue that was all that was wrong with him; he wasn't the right age, and be reminded no, that wasn't all that was wrong, "He has a girlfriend. Doesn't he sell drugs? I think he's manipulating you."
And he was manipulating me, but I don't think anyone knows to what extent, and I'm embarrassed to say now. A year ago yesterday, I rolled up my rugs when I got off work, and I was happy and excited and I met him at the CVS, and parked my car and climbed into his and made him take me to the mall to get something to eat and he was high so I was mad at him, and for the first time I wasn't happy to see him; didn't want to be around him. He wasn't like I remembered and maybe after two or three months of not seeing someone you can't hold onto your mind's conceptions of them and the feelings they arouse in you. Maybe he was changing, or maybe I could see through his charm and attractiveness. I just wanted something from him. Power, love, money, anything. anything he could give me because I had been expecting him and wanting him for so long that to have anything less than him would have been an insurmountable disappointment.
I was a foolish girl.
He had never parked in a garage you pay for before. He waved the ticket around like he was about to drop it, "What do I do with this?" "That's for when we leave." I scoffed at him. Then inside the mall, I ran to the escalator and down it and he told me to slow down, "I'm too high for this." I just wanted to fuck with him, but then we walked around the perimeter of the mall looking for a place to eat and then I bought him dinner. The waiter was someone who had been in my fiction writing class a little more than a year before, and he remembered me and my stories and told me what a good writer I was. I tried to put myself in the position of the little boy sitting across from me in the booth, but selfishly only thought of what he would think about the fact that someone I hadn't seen in a year approached me and told me how wonderful I was. Would this make me more attractive? One of my male friends had taught me a little about gaming over the summer, but I didn't like to believe it's all a stupid game and you can't just find a person attractive and do whateverthefuck you like with them.
I was sad and annoyed by the end of the meal, and then we went back to my house and I just felt this huge surge of disappointment; like I had gotten nothing for this evening... and he was right here! What I'd been thinking that I wanted all along was right here and I didn't want him anymore, but I still wanted him in case I'd regret not doing it later. So, I let him in the back door, pretended to my family that I was just going to sleep so they wouldn't see him, and then before he left--- I didn't let him leave. I didn't know then, but I suspect now that there are certain things that a girl can do that will make it pretty much definite that she'll get some, but he didn't seem to happy about it. His mouth didn't grab at mine in that hungry way it used to; it was just lips and skin moving against lips and skin, and the sex lasted about 2 seconds. Then he was done with a self satisfied smirk on his face and my mom was banging on my door and turning a key in the lock and I was frantically trying to get my clothes back on.
He started to go out the door and I threw on pants, carrying my shirt. He wasn't going to leave without saying bye to me, and I ran out the door. The lid of the trashcan slammed on the side of the house and I ignored the disapproving gaze of my grandfather.
He was at his car, "You're not wearing a shirt." I rolled my eyes at him and put it on, and said goodbye, then he left and I started to cry, and I knew then that I was stupid and I shouldn't care so much, and I shouldn't have done it, but I couldn't help it because I was stupid, and cared too much.
Then my mom came in my room, drunk, and she wouldn't leave so I couldn't cry and be alone and feel sorry for myself.
In the end that's all it comes down to; I like excuses to feel sorry for myself and someday I'll miss right now just as much or more as I miss a year ago yesterday, and even though I don't believe that right now, I know its true because it's happened before and will happen again.
Goodbye Mary, Goodbye Jane
Will we ever meet again?
feel no sorrow, feel no shame
come tomorrow, feel no pain.
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Ravings of an underachiever: on Writing.
Ever since college ended I have lost my ability to write. Maybe it's because now there's no reason that I shouldn't be the famous published author that I've always dreamed of being. There's no more excuses and so my mind has become blank.
Enter: the Future. It's a scary, scary thing. I have created this blog in an effort to keep myself writing, but in places where no one will see me and where there is less pressure to be perfect. Hopefully, it will never be found out that I'm no good at what I do; at what I want to do.
My brain is blank. I've noticed that as I grow older there is less and less that I can make up. In college I lost my ability to write fiction and began writing fiction that was so obviously based upon my life that it was ridiculous and nonfictional stories of all the TERRIBLE things that have happened to me in my short life.
Maybe this is fear. Maybe it is because I've actually lived some life now and when I was younger I had to make things up because there wasn't anything real in my past that I could draw upon. Maybe when I wrote about dragons and magic and alternate realities I was writing about past lives. Or maybe... just maybe... I used to think I was making things up when in fact cultural constructs around me were making these things jump into my mind. Maybe I have Asperger's and an amazing memory for stories, but no memory of where I get them from, and maybe through the process of earning my English degree I also had to learn to cite my sources and so I began to recognize that my ideas are not my own.
I have no ideas. I'm just writing to pass the time. Maybe someday I'll figure myself and everyone else out. Maybe someday I'll have an audience to write to and their dependence upon every beautiful word that comes out of my mind will drive me to create beautiful and wonderful things. Maybe I'm not ready to tie myself down to
my eventual obvious outlet for creativity. Why can't I draw? or Act? or sing?
It's like hunting for a man. Why do I have to have just one? There's no perfect outlet for creativity. There's no perfect job. There's no perfect boytoy. Nothing fits perfectly, and when you put all your energy into one thing and are disappointed it's a much bigger disappointment then when you spread yourself out and give a little bit to everybody.
And that, my friends, makes me sound like a whore.
So on that note, I'm terrified of failure and rejection, but I'm putting myself out there anyway...
BECAUSE:
I wanna put my tender heart in a blender and watch it spin around to a beautiful oblivion. Duh!
Enter: the Future. It's a scary, scary thing. I have created this blog in an effort to keep myself writing, but in places where no one will see me and where there is less pressure to be perfect. Hopefully, it will never be found out that I'm no good at what I do; at what I want to do.
My brain is blank. I've noticed that as I grow older there is less and less that I can make up. In college I lost my ability to write fiction and began writing fiction that was so obviously based upon my life that it was ridiculous and nonfictional stories of all the TERRIBLE things that have happened to me in my short life.
Maybe this is fear. Maybe it is because I've actually lived some life now and when I was younger I had to make things up because there wasn't anything real in my past that I could draw upon. Maybe when I wrote about dragons and magic and alternate realities I was writing about past lives. Or maybe... just maybe... I used to think I was making things up when in fact cultural constructs around me were making these things jump into my mind. Maybe I have Asperger's and an amazing memory for stories, but no memory of where I get them from, and maybe through the process of earning my English degree I also had to learn to cite my sources and so I began to recognize that my ideas are not my own.
I have no ideas. I'm just writing to pass the time. Maybe someday I'll figure myself and everyone else out. Maybe someday I'll have an audience to write to and their dependence upon every beautiful word that comes out of my mind will drive me to create beautiful and wonderful things. Maybe I'm not ready to tie myself down to
my eventual obvious outlet for creativity. Why can't I draw? or Act? or sing?
It's like hunting for a man. Why do I have to have just one? There's no perfect outlet for creativity. There's no perfect job. There's no perfect boytoy. Nothing fits perfectly, and when you put all your energy into one thing and are disappointed it's a much bigger disappointment then when you spread yourself out and give a little bit to everybody.
And that, my friends, makes me sound like a whore.
So on that note, I'm terrified of failure and rejection, but I'm putting myself out there anyway...
BECAUSE:
I wanna put my tender heart in a blender and watch it spin around to a beautiful oblivion. Duh!
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