Monthly Archives: February 2012

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Exhausted

So, here is the deal, Cats and Kittens, I am flipping exhausted. Last night I started writing the first draft of my next book (even though I haven’t finished the second draft of the first one), and I have upped my exercise. I have been pouring myself into everything I do, well, not housework. Tonight, I am tired.

I am also exhausted because of so many things I see going on right now. I see so much going on that I wish we would change.

We have developed this sneering attitude towards idealism. We cling to our pragmatic natures because it is so much easier to do things the way they have always been done than to do them right. Any time anyone points to something that isn’t right and tries to fix it, we scoff at them because only a fool believes they can fix thing.

Here is a simple truth: We are broken.

Our values are broken, our faith is broken, our politics are broken, our medical system is broken, and we are too afraid of what it would mean to admit our brokenness  and actually to try to fix it.

Our young women are getting dumber and less ambitious than previous generations. It is our fault. We have thrown our hands up and let them believe it is more important to be pleasing to men than to be full people. We are breaking our girls. We need to fix it. Teach them that it is more important to be smart, funny, respected than to be pretty, men pleasing girls. We also need to teach them that their values extend beyond their reproductive organs and their surgically enhanced breasts.

We are breaking our men. We teach them that Don Draper is the ultimate man. That it is more important to screw lots of women and bully others to get a head in the world, than to be a good person. We need to start holding up men who fight hard for their families and what is right, instead of this bullshit ideal that few men can reach, and, quite frankly, I don’t think we should want them to achieve. This is OUR FAULT.

We made a society were it is more important to have than to be. Some how we now believe that it is more important to look a certain way and own the right things than to be a good person or try to make things better. We are so trained to buy and spend that we don’t know value anymore. I love technology as much as the next person, and if I could afford a smartphone I would have one, but buying a new smartphone does not somehow make you a better person than you were before.

We have accepted that if someone is ruthless enough to screw over, hurt, or steal to get something it is okay. If we see someone take a television, we consider the action theft and, therefore, wrong. If a powerful business man finds away to exploit unethically the system for money, no matter who it hurts, we believe that they are just savvy business men and envy their suits.

Am I the only one who feels it is wrong to value ruthlessness in a person over the desire to make people’s lives better? Am I just that crazy?  Why don’t we value being a good person anymore?

Okay, our political system is just a big bag of screwed the fuck up. What is wrong with us when we consider a politician who is openly bought is the lesser of two evils? What happened to trying to fight greed and corruption? Why have we just rolled over and accepted that this is the way the world is, and we best make due?

Our faith. Oh, lord, our faith is hurting so bad right now. Even our religious culture is eaten through with our maligned values. We are so afraid,alienated from the world, and desperate to be right that we allow our beliefs to be destroyed by corruption and used like a dirty needle in politics. Stop letting people use your faith to lead you around. We should be stronger in our faith than to let it be used to lead us.

I know all of this seems so insurmountable, but it really isn’t. All we need to do is stop. It is simple as that. We need to stop pushing so hard for this image we are told to strive for. We are told if we are all of these things we will be happy, but we won’t. We believe that what we are is so singularly wrong that we have to push to be something else, and in the end, we are unhappy, stressed, fake shadows of ourselves.

Stop it. Just stop. Step away from all of the fake values and images we have forced upon ourselves and strive to be happy. Stop striving to fit in and strive to be kind. Instead of clawing your way towards a better car, more money, bigger tits, a better suit, try to make things better. Smile at strangers and compliment them. Let someone in front of you in traffic.

If we accepted ourselves and stopped pushing ourselves to fit some fucked up ideal, our world would be better. We would be less insecure and less angry. If we accepted that we are only so much and that we can only do our best, we would feel more compassion towards others and be more willing to accept others faults.

If we found ourselves and righted our values, we would stop letting jack asses in government lie, cheat and steal, while we blindly accept it as business as usual. If we told our politicians that we value honesty and hard work over image and greed, and voted out any politician that didn’t meet our values, our country would be in a much better place. If we looked at our government honestly and realized that the government is here to work for us, not the other way around, then we would have a much healthier country.

We can fix this. I believe we want to fix this. We just need to stop accepting it, and start fixing it.

Ugh, sorry for the massive rant.

 
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I Want to be an Evil Mastermind When I Grow Up

Last night, I started a massive rant than my computer freaked out and I gave it up. I think it was for the best because it is a rant I need to put a bit more thought into. Today, I am in far too good of a mood to rant. It might be the post work out happy chemicals, but whatever.

So, we have a couple of orders of business to get through.

First, next we are having an Oklahoma White Trash Mardi Gras Parade. One car with a trailer hitch has been offered for use. We now need cheap party beads, lots of booze, trash cans to put the booze in, a flat bed trailer, and lawn chairs to put on the flat bed trailer so people can ride in to fling the beads angrily. I have none of this, and I am broke, so I have appointed myself the official OWTMGP  organizer. If you would like to donate any supplies please contact me at selina@templeofthegeekgoddess.com.

(Really, though, if you are in a place that you can donate, donate to these people. My sister is friends with a little girl who would benefit. Here is the news story. Okay, done preaching/begging. Oh, but I don’t suggest donating booze.)

Second order of business: Next week I am going to register for the Redbud Classic 5k. Lynsie has said she would do it with me, so if there any of my Oklahoma people who want to do it with me, I think we should make t-shirts. Just saying, it would be awesome. It is 25 dollars to register but it is FOR THE CHILDREN. If it is just me, I am making a shirt with big bold letters that say “Fat Girl Jogging.”

Third and final order of business: I have decided that I am going to create The Bloggess’s Shiv Wielding Dark Army: Oklahoma Division. Our first order of business will be to get an Oklahoma City stop on The Blogess’s book tour. If we manage that, the second order of business will be to get Lynsie to taxidermy a mouse in a standing position so we can put little curlers in her hair and make a tiny blow dryer and red dress for her. It will be our offering to The Bloggess. I have appointed myself the leader for one term. If you guys are displeased with my leadership you can elect a new leader in six months time but no sooner. Anyone interested in joining should e-mail me at selina@templeofthegeekgoddess.com. If I get any interest I will be making a Facebook page to coordinate our efforts.

Okay, I am off to eat some pineapple and plot some more.

 
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Fat Girl Jogging

So over a month ago I decided to get healthier. I signed up for a website called sparkpeople.com and I started exercising. I alternate between taking my dog for a walk at the park and doing Pilates when the weather is good and doing Leslie Sansome’s Walk Away the Pounds “5 Really Big Miles” (of which I do two) when the weather is bad. Last Wednesday (Wednesday is weigh day) I was down 10 pounds.

Last week I got the idea in my head to do the Red Bud Classic 5k in April. I know I won’t run it and I would probably be the last one across the finish line, but I can’t imagine how cool it would be for me to get across the finish line. I have been having dreams of running lately, not the “AAAHHH machete murder is chasing me” running dream but dreams where I go for runs.

It is glorious outside today, so I clipped the leash on my dog and we went to the part. We walked a half a mile and then we jogged. We didn’t jog far, but we jogged. We walked some more, and then we jogged some more. We alternated walking and jogging for another mile. I walked far more than I jogged, but I fucking jogged.

I can’t remember ever jogging as an adult. I know I looked seriously goofy. I am a big, big girl with a fuzzy wienie dog jogging in these tiny little 1/8th mile bursts. My form sucks, I am awkward with the leash, and my hair was sticking straight up in places, but I jogged, and it was glorious.

Endurance and form will come with time. I will look less goofy. And, I will get less big, I hope.

Part of me feels really silly for being so happy right now, and I know logically part of my happiness is the happy chemicals exercise releases into the brain, but I don’t care, just like I don’t care about how ridiculous I must have looked. One day soon I will run.

I am going to go print off the registration forms for the Redbud Classic 5k.

 
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Wait, It’s Saturday?

Good afternoon, morning, night, whatever. I have entered another strange period in my life where time has no meaning, and if it weren’t for blog days and sparkpeople.com telling me what day it was, I would have no clue what day of the week, much less what date. I am pretty sure I have lost track of what month I was in before. It happens when you are me.

Thursday, after I finished that blog I decided to shelve my romance novel  for a little while to work on a fantasy novel that I have been kicking around for awhile. The past several days have been a blur of me wandering around thinking about my new book. It is a fantastic feeling, if a bit disconcerting.

I will finish the first one. I have to keep telling myself that so I don’t feel like a failure, but that book and I were torturing each other.

My writing loves are blogging and fantasy. My blog is, and will always be, my first love. I believe in what I do here. I believe in fighting to bridge this strange disconnect that our society has built between our true selves and the image we are supposed to portray. I think we have lost so much beauty and joy because we are so focused on image and what others think of us. There are much worse things in life than being viewed as uncool, weird, or different, and we have forgotten that as a people. We have trapped ourselves with these ridiculous ideals of what we should be. We have also tried so hard to insulate ourselves from vulnerability that we have completely lost our ability to put ourselves out there and isolated ourselves from people. Being rejected sucks, being ridiculed hurts, but it won’t kill you, and the joys of loving yourself for who you are and being loved for your being your flawed self far out weigh any of that pain.

My other love is fantasy. Almost every story I have ever kicked around in my head has been a fantasy novel. I just love the genre so much for so many reasons. I have started so many fantasy stories but I always stop because I always felt intimidated by the magnitude of writing one. I decided to write a romance novel because I could write a crappy book and it be okay. I was aiming for cheesy crap. I think what I have is better than that and I still love many elements of the story, but I need to spend sometime on this project for a bit. I can only do things because I am supposed to do for awhile until I do what I am.

I will finish the first book. (I keep assuring myself of this.) I am not giving up because it is hard. (Another self assurance) This project switch is not a sign of failure; I did not fail. I am just diverting for a bit. (This is the shit I have to tell myself to not feel guilty. Don’t you love how neurotic I am?)

Also, switching projects means I get to buy another accordion file and I might use it to buy binder clips. I fucking LOVE office supplies. I will take any excuse I can find to buy them.  I am so strange.

Oh, my Oklahoma friends, you can sign a petition here to tell the state government we are against the personhood bill.  I am not going to preach any more about it, but I do think it is important that we know it is happening.  If you know other people in the state who would be against it, pass it on. Social media works and can change the world.

 
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Oh, Shit, I Didn’t Mean to Rant

I now run my glorious writer’s hours. I wake at 1:30pm and go to sleep at 5:30am, ish. It is great for me, because I am more awake with more energy and a better mood. I am more productive and happier. It blows because so few of my hours intersect with normal people hours. I try to crunch more stuff in the few normal people hours I have. Most days it works out. Today, on the other hand, I am rushing to get a blog in before midnight. OH FRACK 45 MINUTES. I know it doesn’t actually matter, but it matters to me. It is the principle of the thing.

So, I have a slight issue. The idea I wrote about in my last blog still hasn’t formed yet. I still have the thought bits bouncing around but I can’t quite get them stuck together in an effective way. It is like having a box of puzzles pieces, and every time you pick one piece up the connector shapes all change. I know these pieces go together, but every time I think about one aspect the path to connecting it to the other pieces blur. To make things worse, I am pretty sure I shake the damn box every time I pick it up. I am going to be super pissed if when everything clicks, it is something dumb.

The point is I have things whirling. I always have things whirling in my head, but generally I only have one thing eating up most of my brain RAM so the rest of my brain can spin on other things. Right now, I have my book I am writing, the book I want to write next, this blasted puzzle, and my lifestyle food exercise crap all spinning around using up my RAM. My focus is worse than normal. When it comes to blogging all I can think of is the things the free part of my brain rants about.

Normally I would fight it, but not tonight. I have 30 minutes to get this bitch posted so you cats are taking what you can get.

Guinea Pig awesome

A cute picture

OMG WOMEN THE STATE GOVERNMENTS WANT TO RULE YOUR REPRODUCTIVE ORGANS. My tootie is none of the state of Oklahoma’s gawddamn business. There is a personhood bill trying to go through our state congress. This would give the State of Oklahoma unprecedented rights to control what you do with your reproductive organs. I respect being pro-life (unless you are pro-death penalty then you are not really pro-life, you are anti-choice and believe that after a baby is born it is on its own, fuckers.)   This isn’t an issue of pro-life/pro-choice. This willfully giving the government the right to regulate your body parts. Things like birth control can become illegal. Some states have went as far as to introduce bills that criminalize miscarriages. We are staring down the face of allowing ourselves to be oppressed again. I am not down with my only value being my reproductive organs and turning over legal rights if I decide to use them. It is all feeling far too close to The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood.  Educate yourself.

Okay odd clarification. People are getting their panties in a wad because of Obama’s birth control stuff. The way things were originally written every employer would be required to provide birth control to their employees, even if employer is a church that is against birth control. This upset religious groups, so they are trying to fix it where the religious groups don’t have to provide the birth control but the employees can get it from the government.

I am all about birth control and women’s freedom to chose what happens with her body. I think the easier and more abundant birth control is, the better, but I am a staunch defender of separation of church and state. I have a hard time with the government asking a church to go against  a basic tenement on something like this. The women will have access to birth control still, but the lines of separation of church and state still stays clear. (I wish someone explain to some of these more rabid fundies that the separation protects religion as much as it protects the state.)

In that same vein, when gay marriage becomes universal in our country (except probably backward ass Oklahoma), I don’t believe that churches should be pressured to perform gay marriages if it is against their beliefs. I firmly believe every consenting adult should have the right to be legally married to any consenting adult that will have them. I believe that every state in our union should legally allow it. I think it is an intrusion on separation of church and state to move it any further than that. I also don’t think anyone will ever try. I am just trying to show that I can be sensible. It is a game I play.

Okay, it is 11:52pm and I have ranted enough.

 
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The Love in My Life

First order of business today: Valentine’s Day. I think most people are expecting me to be depressed or grumpy like I have been in past years. Nope, I am thankful.

Last year, I had a boyfriend and Valentine’s Day sucked worse than when I was single. If I can’t be with a man who cares as much about making me happy as I do him, I would prefer to be single.

I have had a grand total of two Valentine’s Days when I wasn’t single. One was fantastic and, one was terrible. I have had more strange and wonderful Valentine’s Days when I was single.

My first year of college, my roommate Lynsie put a note on her prized stuffed animal and knocked on the door then dashed a way. It was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for me on Valentine’s Day.

Another year, I was at a greasy spoon diner studying for a massive Shakespeare test I had when this really attractive man asked to sit with me. I never saw him again, and if another friend hadn’t seen him, I might have thought I made it up in my own damn head. We talked for several hours about everything. It was strange and wonderful.

Tina and David took me out year before last. I wasn’t single, but I was e-dating the last ex-boyfriend, and I wouldn’t have done much otherwise. They are the reason that Valentine’s Day was wonderful. Them and the excitement I felt at being in love on Valentine’s Day. It wasn’t the boy, it was my friends and myself.

This year, I am single again. I woke up to a small box of chocolates and a card that my dad bought for me. (I managed to eat all six and still make it work in my calorie budget because I am becoming a food managing ninja, bitches.) I logged on to my game and played a character that was wearing awesome pants that Tina and Dave got for me for Valentine’s Day.  Then, I went on to Facebook and found that my friend Sara posted this:

Yet another Baby Corgi

How can you see this face and not have your heart melt?

to my page because whenever she sees a corgi, she thinks of me because they make me so happy.

I don’t know if I will ever find a husband, or have children, but I do know I will never want for love in my life. I have more love in my than some married people I have known.

Things might not work out the way I planned, but they always work out.

Second order of business: things rarely work out like I planned.

I am the queen of trying to jam a square peg in a round hole. (Make all the dirty jokes you want, I did.) I was doing that yet again.

After struggling for weeks trying to get a section done with my book, my mom pointed out to me that something was glaringly wrong, and I had to change major details on the entire last half of my book. I was a little devastated yesterday, but I knew I could handle it. Last night I was up until 5 am re-outlining the last half of my book and figuring things out. I am basically going to have to write a whole new first draft for the back half. It is daunting, and yesterday it was incredibly disheartening.  I knew I had no choice but to do it.

My choices are: fix it, making it far better in the process, or quit and not finish that book. The second choice is not happening. I am finishing the book, damn it, even if it isn’t wonderful, profound literature, I am finishing it. If I can’t find a publisher, I will put it on Amazon. Even if it doesn’t sell any copies, I will have a book out for sale.

But, I am stepping back and accepting that it will take the time it takes. I hear you, Universe, I will stop rushing shit and making arbitrary time limits. As long as I am moving forward and working hard for a goal, I will be happy with what I do.

Yeah, and it is really hard to be too devastated after writing that first section that I just wrote. It is all about perspective people. Sometimes, I need it.

Third bit of business: I have some ideas bubbling in the front of my brain but they are all half formed. They are right there but I can’t quite get them. I have a feeling I need to have a long session of mumbling to myself while doing something mindless. It is a little frustrating but it will come when it comes. Yes, Universe, I heard you, damnit.

 
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In Dreams

In general, I have really vivid dreams that play out like movies, or well-made video games. Most mornings I remember them and  slap myself on the forehead for being such a weirdo in my mind.  Sometimes they are fantastic and kind of cool, like the dream where I got sent to the future with a breeding set of seal pups to start the re-population of the oceans after mankind burned all sea life from the oceans when the entire ocean revolted in a bloody war against man. I had to sneak through a massive dilapidated  hotel complex trying to get to the ocean so I could swim these three pups to safety. At one point in the water, I was guided by a ghost whale.  I had other dreams about being an assassin slayer in an airport. I have a lot of dreams about traveling through islands. I even had one dream that the cast of Desperate Housewives were all my friend. We were pirates together until they all left me in the pirate cove.

Like I said, most of these dreams are just strange tidbits from my subconscious, which manages to be weirder than my conscious, and mean little other than I spent a lot of years in college and I desire to travel. I might also have a thing for pirates and the ocean. (I had this really cool dream about these kids on an epic quest to figure out an ancient culture that lived on their island before them, and one is the long lost queen of this supernatural culture.) It is just how my brain works. I like stories, I make them up all of the time, so why not in my sleep?

Then I have other more personal and painful dreams that can stick with me for days.

I had one of those last night. My unconscious mind flayed me open and left me bare. My unconscious mind is a total asshole.

So, I am like everyone else, a deeply insecure mess. Some of us hide it better than others, but I believe everyone has periods in their lives that insecurities eat around the edges of their lives. No matter how sure of ourselves we are, sometimes that bullshit wriggles in without warning.

It is pretty obvious that I have been struggling with insecurity for almost a year now. I don’t think it was bad,  I have had a tremendous amount of growth from that insecurity, and I have taken more steps into becoming who I want to be then I have since leaving college.  I have just had a lot of “oh, no fucking way can I do this shit” moments or moments of finding my self severely lacking. I struggle with not feeling enough all of the time. Most of the time I do a pretty good job relegating it all to the back of my brain with only random outbursts.

Until my brain gives me the kind of dream I had last night.

In my dream, I ran into a friend from college. Let me explain. In reality, I haven’t seen this friend in many years, and, honestly, I am okay with it. We had a tumultuous friendship because she was a tumultuous girl. She was also insanely insecure and like to use me to bolster her self worth. Most of the time, that just meant she would brag to me or show me how smart/pretty/flirty/sexually attractive/wild/tough she was. Sometimes, she would just make really snide comments to tear me down and make herself feel better in tearing me down. Of course I didn’t realize it at the time since I was too young and too dumb.

Back to the dream…

She showed up at a party I was throwing. Her drug use had escalated from weed and pills to harder stuff and life had been harsh on her. She moved through the party trying to be the center of attention, like she enjoyed in college, but she couldn’t get enough attention, so she walked over to the group of friends I was talking with and started to belittle me viciously.

She belittle my weight, my intelligence, my near constant single status, my lack of a paying job, everything. She ripped me down into little shreds, attacking every little insecurity I had. I stood up to her, though. Inside I still felt everything she said, but I told her off. My friends stood with me.

Later that night, everyone kind of passed out. (I don’t know, it is a dream okay.) When I woke up I knew something was wrong. I went to my computer and found my filing system wrecked. She left a recorded video telling me she hadn’t erased anything but she had added massive quantities of stuff and messed everything up. She told me that she couldn’t let my behavior stand without retaliation. She wrecked everything and I had lost my book.

I have never felt so defeated in my life.

I know it was just a dream, but it still sticks with me. Part of me still feels ripped up from her nasty words and the devastation and helplessness of losing my book.

Even in my dream, my loved ones found a way to help me make it right. I think I am so pollyanna that even in my dreams I have a hard time feeling completely lost and hopeless.

I don’t think there was a point to sharing this. It was just on my mind. /Le Shrug.

 

 
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State of Mind

The weather outside sucks. It is cold, bleak, and just nasty. I have a headache. I have spent my day being whined to, growled at, and almost bitten. I want to binge eat chocolate and nap. I was walking into the super wal-mart trying to keep myself in a decent mood because a wal-mart trip is only made worse by a shitty attitude. I almost succeeded. My attempts at trying to be pleasant completely and utterly failed when I got home. I was cranky as fuck.

Cranky Face

Cranky!

Then I went onto the Facebook and followed a link from my friend Kathleen.

I ended up on James Hance’s Relentlessly Cheerful Art site. My friend Craig had told me about it before but I promptly forgot about it, the way I do, and I finally realized how awesome it is today.

It is all simple, beautifully done artwork that evokes feelings of geeky nostalgia and pure happiness. I am bolstered. It has bolstered me. I have made the decision to concentrate on the things that make me happy. I am stepping back, taking a deep breath, and then celebrating the things that made me happy today. (Beware of the videos if you are a sensitive soul.)

Number 1: A wildly inappropriate youtube video Tina’s little showed us. I started thinking about this morning in bed while I was trying to wake up, and it made me giggle like a maniac.

Number 2: My strange relationship with logic makes me happy. I know this sounds a bit egotistical to say my own sense of weird makes me happy, but it does. Logic, reality, normalcy, and I flirt with each other. We talk, and sometimes we even have coffee, but I am not married to any of them. I move through the world on my own terms, mostly because I know no other way, and it gives me joy. Most of the time I blunder through things moving without knowing how other see me or thought about how I compare to the rest of the world. I think I am happier for this.

Number 3: I have yogurt, bananas, frozen fruit, and low fat whole wheat waffles again.

Number 4: Sunny’s Diner. Lemme explain. I don’t listen to pod casts. I have the attention span of a coked out three year old. I have a hard time watching an hour long television show, much less sit still long enough to listen to a pod cast. Maybe if I had a smartphone and could listen while I did other things, it might be different, but right now, it isn’t.

But

Tina, Dave (her husband), and I game with these doods. This weekend Tina was telling me how awesome this podcast was. Our guild is a mesh of two GIGANORMOUS guilds but I still managed to have played with one of the guys and tease him mercilessly while I did, so I thought I would give it a shot while I played for a bit this afternoon. I was thoroughly entertained. So next time I do something at my computer that only requires a quarter of my brain, I will listen.

Number 5: I will be done with this evil section of my book soon. I am facing down the end of it. I am staring it dead in the face. Sometime soon. I hope.

Number 6: 100 calorie packs of fudge covered pretzels.

 
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A Slice of My Life

I don’t think this will be the entirety of my blog today but I needed to write this down right now. I already have had two funny things pop into my head and, after telling myself to be sure to remember them, I promptly forgot them. Instead of making a post-it note like a normal people, I am going to make a mini-blog. (Edit: It turns out to not be all that mini. I don’t know that this is all I am going to post.)

Okay, first of all, social media befuddles my parents. I find it highly ironic that their spawn can believe in it as much as I do and come from parents like them. My father thinks Facebook is evil and we are all throwing away our privacy into a soul eating machine. I am not saying he is wrong, I am just saying there is more to it than that. It is a soul eating machine that lets me see funny things. He thinks Twitter is one of the signs of the apocalypse. I used to feel that way until I understood it. Now I know Twitter’s greatest evil is that people can be mundane as hell and Twitter their entire lives. (I am one of those folks.)

My mom, on the other hand, wants to know about the Facebook and use it since my sister posts stuff about herself and her kids. When I show Mom videos and stuff that Ellana posts, she always wants another Facebook lesson. A few days ago Ellana posted a video on my wall of my adorable niece being her kooky, adorable self making up a song and singing it to her Ipod. Today I showed it and some pictures from my last photo shoot with Tina. Mom LOVED my niece’s videos and a few of the pictures.

I pointed at one of the pictures and said, “I actually really like this picture.”

Mom responds with a pinched face, “I don’t.”

Ouch. Instead of getting my feelings all hurt, I make a joke about our family’s militant honesty policy and attempt to move on.

She said, “Well, Selina, I am not going to lie. If I told you I liked that photo and I don’t, you won’t believe me when I tell you this photo looks amazing.”

I assure her that I understand that and we move on.

Let me side track for a moment. I do actually believe this. I try to be honest with my praise. I don’t believe in being sparing with my praise; I will tell you how amazing I think something is down to the last detail, if I believe it is awesome. I try not to give superfluous praise though, because I think it makes judging genuine praise harder. I have this belief because when people compliment me, I suspect they are being nice even if they hate what I do. It makes me a paranoid, self-conscious wreck.

Of course, I fail at this on occasion. (By on occasion, I mean all the time.) I refuse to be harsh or hurtful. I try to either not comment or to find something good, even if it is insignificant. If you are willing to make the effort, everyone has something you can compliment. Tina has also called me out on lying to her. She knew I was telling her I liked things she cooked when I didn’t. As a result, she couldn’t trust my responses to her cooking.  I tried to assure her that I would be more honest, but she told me I wasn’t capable of not lying to her about her cooking to prevent hurting her feelings. Tina, I PROMISE I will try not to lie to you about anything but your cooking. I will try not to lie to you about your cooking, but we know how that goes.

Okay, back on track we go.

So, after Mom gets up to do something else, I come in here and think of funny things to write about. Mom yells at me from the other room apologizing about the comment earlier. A bit later, I walked into the living room and she was sitting there obviously mad. This is what happens next:

Me: Are you mad?

Mom: Yes.

Me: Why?

Mom: You were kind of rude to me about what I said about your picture.

Me: I was rude when you said something kind of mean to me about a picture and I made a joke to keep from getting my feelings hurt.

Mom: Yes.

Me: -.-

Mom: Well, I am not going to lie to you about it.

Me: I know, and I feel the same way, but I generally try to cushion my honesty. Your honesty is a bit sharp.

Mom: I KNOW. I said I was sorry.

Me: This is kind of like me punching you then getting mad because it pissed you off.

Mom: I know.

Me: I am a bit mystified by you being mad at me.

Mom: Me, too.

A few minutes later as I was leaving the room..

Mom: I want you to come out later and do some cleaning.

Me: Are you still going to be mad at me then?

Mom: I don’t know.

Yep. You can’t make this shit up.

 

This is the photo of contention. Mom told me it made me look like I was trying to look to be tough. I responded that it was just my face. She told me that she knew. How the fuck was I supposed to take any of that?

Bad ass motherfucker

I actually really like this photo. I don't care who else does. /le cry

 

 

 
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Never Google

Tina did a rocking photo shoot today, and then her little brother made us blue fin tuna steaks and sangria. Life is fucking good.

We came up with a new drinking game called “Never Google”

Someone starts the game by saying “Never Google…” and if you have Googled it then you have to drink. I think it is awesome but I would lose. I’ve Googled everything.

I’ll start out.

Never Google Alabama Hot Pockets.

I know things. Bad. Bad. Bad. Things.

Oh, the internet is a dirty, harsh mistress. We have had a long affair. I don’t know how to quit her.

Also, I am a bit of an asshole to my favorite males when I am drunk. I make sensitive boys cry. I need to be nice to Kyle. He cooks too well to piss off.

I am going to go drink more rum wine fruit goodness and play monopoly. I see this ending really funny or atleast I will be too drunk to care.

 

 
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