HO-LEE-SHIT.

It's taken me three years to sign into this fucking account. Do those Google people work at Food Lion??

She's baaaaack...and bigger and badder than ever.

6.

dear father- it's been 6 months since i last posted. what a terrible sin. this only tells me one thing. or two. i have no time and i must be stressed. very.

i wanted to fall asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow, but only worry-less people can do that. i was always amazed at how my cousin could fall asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. i remember wondering if she had any fucking problems. i did. and we were kids then. anyway, who am i kidding? it takes an act of god for me to fall asleep quickly, unless prescription drugs are involved. i just wanted to get my thoughts on paper, or computer, rather, and out of my fat head. i spoke to a friend recently who was a fan of my blog and he said that he doesn't even check it anymore. maybe that's because i haven't posted in 6 months. wow. alot has happened since then. we need to catch up.

after coming to the realization that my very shitty mortgage company (First Horizon)wasn't willing to modify my loan, i made some cut-backs. i cancelled my internet service, my home phone, and the gym membership i never used, changed my car insurance provider, intentionally over-fed my beta fish, and ate less sushi. i did, however, get another dog to make myself feel better about it all. i avoided any contact with rawboy, and pretty much avoided men in general. i just don't like any in this town and i'm convinced i never will. if you live here, i hate you.
also, i've been praying to my god to get me another job before i kill myself. i wasn't actively looking, but every night i said to myself "god pleeeeease....get me another job....!" and guess what?? he did. yes, i expect things to just fall into my lap effortlessly, and sometimes they just do. like my new job. which pays alot more with half the stress. i start monday. yay! now my mortgage will only be ONE month behind!

well, speaking of god, christmas is coming up. i was smart and got all of my daughter's presents early. i just couldn't imagine fighting the minivans and single mom's fatter than me in stone washed jeans in the walmart parking lot. thank god for target. never lets me down. let the toy-pulling, parking space fighting, pizza line pushing begin- without me. speaking of grease, i'm fat.
you know, every year i tell myself that i'm going to lose weight, and every year i'm fatter. they need a reality show similar to Intervention, but about food. i can see it now- i'm sitting in a private room surrounded by friends and family, and all i want to do is hit a chik-fil-a. what's most embarassing, though, is that every time my baby daddy comes to visit (which is twice a year), i'm fatter. all THAT does is validate his judgements about me and becoming a fat mom. ew. fat. i never thought i'd be oprah. rich people have no excuse to be fat, with their private chefs and personal trainers. i don't get it. BUT nobody's perfect. not even tiger woods. that slut.

so i'm on a quest to give myself the affordable extreme make-over. all it takes is a nice tan, a year in the gym, and braces. porcelin, not metal. move over j.lo, i'm gonna be kim kardashian. or maybe courtney without the hideous boyfriend.

i'll do my best to keep my loyal readers up to date on my progress, and i'll try to stick to my new year's resolutions- gym, tan, teeth, less cellphone. so don't call me.

xoxoxoxo

yo.

i'm still here. just not ready to write yet. my apologies. i'm blank like this big white screen. and i'm alone cuz i feel like nobody's good enough. then i look in the mirror. there was a good line from a rap song i heard recently- "nobody hates you more than your reflection." anyway, he's right. how did we get to hate ourselves so much? or is it just me? who knows. it's all one big mind fuck. this life. with alot of color and beauty.

yours,

it's about time.

well, my loyal blogettes- i really don't have anything to say. or rather, i just don't feel like blogging lately. i'll leave last minute what i'm doing right now lines on facebook, but other than that, i've been feeling exhausted and my inspiration to tell you more stories has fizzled out like the seldom cleaned fryer at the waffle house. sorry- i'll probably jump back on in full force after i score some good anti-depressants.

love to you all, and happy mothers day to me, biatches.
-dyva

brilliance.

ok. i feel like a dumbass posting this somewhat trivial post, but please. trust me. yes, trust me. if you know what's good for you, you will. so you know all those assholes out there that keep blabbering on and on about the show "lost?" well, they need to quit their jobs at denny's and smell the roses. the most brilliant show ever created on any network, on the planet for that matter, was "six feet under." i'm not one of those crazy people who watched every episode of every lame citcom on tv. no. but i did look forward to my six feet under on HBO when i got home from work. maybe it's because i want to make movies myself, but the characters were brilliant. the acting was brilliant. the plot was brilliant. every single episode of that whole fucking show was pure brilliance. and the artistic aspect of it all! just fucking brilliant. the soundtrack. aaahhhh...you have no idea. i got sucked in and hypnotised and brainwashed all at the same time. i cried during the last episode of the last season like my dog just died. the end of my six feet under left me empty and incomplete. how could they all leave me like that? i needed them. they were my family!! christ. bring me a bottle of cheap white wine. and make it chardonnay. they even threw in a gay couple. keith and david. god, i miss them. where my gays at?? come back! i need you.

anyway, please buy the complete set. cuz if you rent it, you'll want to own it anyway. good. do what i say. and quit telling me every time you wipe your ass on facebook.

uuuhhhhh #2

hey. does anyone out there want to hire me to do something and pay me at least 40k? i'm getting burnt out entertaining seniors. i think one year of calling bingo and leading 50's karaoke is enough. please let me know.... PLEASE! i'll start in june. and i'll need to bring my dog. thanks.

restaurant owners need not apply.

MJH

Dear Missy,

I'm sorry about your mother. I'm sorry you grew up without your mom and dad. I wish things were different for you. I know it was hard. Thank you for the sleepovers, for the mac & cheese, the big glass of milk, the laughs. All the times you made me laugh. There were so many. Living with you was so much fun. Sharing make-up and clothes, our boy stories and battle scars. Listening to Alice in Chains in the morning while you took 3 hours to get ready. Playing spades in the middle of the night, making fun of people on tv. We had the same sense of humor. You had the most beautiful smile. We were so young and rebellious. We had so much fun. And then he came.

He came into your life, this force of evil, this man born and placed on a path that crossed yours and sealed your fate. Why didn't you make him go away. Why. It could've been so simple. And now you're dead. You're dead.

I wish you called. You always called. I wish I went to see you last month. I wish you tried harder with me. I could never tell you no. I wish you would've called. I wish you grew up happy. I wish he never met you. And there wouldn't have been another. Not like him. I wish you had the strength to make him go away. I thought you did before he met you. I thought you did. But now it's all over- all the pain, all the tears, all the fear. Your scars are gone, your arms are smooth. You can start over. Next time. And I'll see your daughter again someday. And I'll tell her all the wonderful things about you and how much fun we had when we were young. I'll tell her lots of things. I'll make sure she understands. I loved you. I'll be missing you. More than you know.