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.

So.

aaarrrggghhhhh.....a loyal blog reader of mine said i'm too depressing. if i don't start saying something happy, then they'll stop reading my blog. fuck you. fucker.


SO! i'm happy! ok?? can't you tell? i didn't even have a nervous breakdown at kroger today! AND it was a new one, and i didn't know where shit was! but i was patient and found my shit! ok?? and there was only 1 checkout line with a human on it! ok?? and i didn't even complain or break a sweat! so FUCK YOU and your happiness. ok??

what if i'm ADD? or have a chemical imbalance in my depressing brain that i can't control? what if i'm fighting clinical depression and don't know it?? are you racist against people that aren't looking HAPPY? you fucking racist. happy bitch. i'll show you happy. let me put on my happy glove.

well, i'm tired and need to get some sleep to get up in the morning for a job that has nothing to do with what i want to really do. unless i can make a porno there. hey! seniors in porn! and seniors can get a senior discount on the videos! i'll open up shop with an early bird special! i'll patent something that turns your dentures into a sex toy! i'll turn polydent into a lubricant! i bet there's a market for that.
gunnite!

CHICKEN SHIT.

so, can somebody tell me why i'm so fucking scared to be myself? ok- that sounds a little lame. but really. i walk around so fucking terrified to do what i want to do. too scared to be where i want to be. jesus, i found myself on the couch just needing to breathe deeply because my back was caving in. i thought about how every day for me here is the same. how i haven't been able to find anything as calming to me as the ocean. how when i think about how beautiful life is i think about california. i sometimes look around my house and think about selling it all. getting an over-priced apartment that won't kill my dog. i think about having a shitty day at work and coming home to sit here and vent and do it all again tomorrow. then i think about having a shitty day at work and coming home to put my flip flops on and head to the beach to unwind. wow. feet in the sand. hands in the sand. the sun. where's the fucking sun?

holy shit. this can't be it. i need to make some decisions here. i asked god for help. really. i haven't felt that compelled to pray in a long time. i gotta be desperate. sad, isn't it? am i the only one who feels like every decision is wrong?? this job i'm in is like working in a trash compactor. i feel like my 4 walls are closing in on me and death is right around the corner. before i know it, i'll be living in a nursing home with a view of a broken down swimming pool. i gotta make a move. right? whatever. i'm going to sleep. SO glad tomorrow's sunday.

IN HONOR OF MONA

christ. here i am at 4:30 in the morning. yep. watched 4 hours of my favorite show, six feet under. drank one beer. lit some incense. some candles. sat on the floor and pet my dog- (who may be dead.) put in a yoga video after that. tired. it looked like a bad porn. a bleached blonde named lisa with big tits and a guy who appeared to be michael bolten in a leotard. i just did the poses my body easily allowed me to. stretched the back a bit. now i'm talking to you. or me. or the computer. anyway, so i'm sitting there watching my show and i swear to you, there's something up with that show. there's no way that many people, as in the ones who create and produce this show, can be that damn brilliant. there's just no way. maybe scattered around the earth, but not all together to write and direct this one show. seriously- you need to watch it. trust me. just pure brilliance. i'm in awe of it. i mean, i don't watch tv or tv sitcoms or even the news. i especially wouldn't buy the complete set of all 5 seasons and watch it AGAIN. but i did. when i was rich and had HBO, i started watching it and it sucked me in. i even cried during the last episode. call me crazy. i felt like my best friend just died. i had no one to come home to anymore. now i can sleep with a dvd under my pillow and have sweet dreams of waking up to yet another episode. oh, if only you little people understood.

For the Most Part,

people are assholes. i have a few friends that are generally kind hearted and would probably never utter a cross word to my face, but for the most part, people are assholes. why, after all these years, am i still slightly surprised when someone i call my friend suddenly turns against me, turning into a complete schizophrenic freak? weird. i'll never know. but the ones that have these freaky episodes are also very lonely people. probably because they can't contain the asshole within. i think that old tv show "the hulk" was like that. it was about some weird white guy, who most people perceived as normal, until someone set him off. but instead of just freaking out and being a dick, he morphed into this huge, green monster-guy, with big muscles and destroyed shit. wonder why they chose green. i mean, they could have chosen black. or pink. i wonder what the critics would've said if the hulk was pink. maybe i should create a gay spin-off of the hulk, only make him pink and call him "the hunk." every time he got a bad blow job, he'd get pissed off and destroy shit- i'd keep that the same. but my show would have higher ratings because all the gays would watch it. and to be successful, you need their support.

How to Waste an Hour (in honor of Brigette)

1. open my laptop.

2. wait for damn thing to come on.

3. enter password.

4. wait for damn yahoo web page to appear.

5. check my facebook with shame.

6. think about responding to people.

7. switch to my blog to remember latest story or see if brigette read the latest one.

8. sit in front of computer for the remaining 40 minutes,talking myself into pulling up my checking account to see what's left.

yep, that's about my hour every day.

Dillusion.

you seduced me
used me
squeezed me and juiced me
we stood up and fought
called it a truce
we-

you. looked into my eyes

you. taught to deceive
gifted your tears
and made me believe
we

could do this
could chew this
but
too often said screw this

can't do this

i'm dying and you-

There's nothing you have that I need.

Breathe.

There's nothing you have that I need.


we.
lied to ourselves
warped the paths paved
now truth has arrived
these destinies saved


we denied us joy
we denied us life
we denied us freedom
i saw me in you

and you.

on the day that i die
my heart's resurrection
this longing. the longing
poses a question- we.

It's not do I believe in love

It's does love believe in me.

There's nothing you have that I need.

Breathe.

There's nothing you have that I need.

BLESSING IN DISGUISE.

it was a blessing in disguise because I was fooling myself into believing it may last. it was a blessing in disguise because I needed to do some things for myself. it was a blessing in disguise because it was hurting my family. it was a blessing in disguise because i needed to write. it was a blessing in disguise because i needed to read. it was a blessing in disguise because i needed to be more responsible. it was a blessing in disguise because i needed to be respected. it was a blessing in disguise because deep down i was unhappy. it was a blessing in disguise because i wasn't treated right. it was a blessing in disguise because i was ashamed. it was a blessing in disguise because it was holding me back. it was a blessing in disguise because it made me not like who i was. it was a blessing in disguise because i couldn't be myself. but with it i sometimes laughed. with it i sometimes cried and it felt good. with it i'd sometimes think about life and appreciate it a little more. with it i got to share my thoughts and views. and with it i sometimes felt happier. and with it i wasn't alone. but it was still, without a doubt, a blessing in disguise. i needed to let it go. i needed to change.

Resistance.

"I can't do it. I just can't do it," I said. "Yes, you can", said Nate. "I think my parents have beat me down just enough to keep me here," I said. "I mean, I try to tell myself to be motivated. I try to tell myself I can do it. I try to better myself, eat better, work out more, write more- and I just don't. I can't. I don't like myself. I don't like who I've become. I hate looking at myself. I can't seem to shake it." "But you're not that person. And you can do those things," said Nate. "I know you can."
"I grew up with a mom who only told me what I can't do. 'You can't do this. You can't do that.' My parents never cared what I did. I never had anyone to back me up as a child. Back me up in school. They weren't around. I mean, they didn't protect me when I was little. A little girl. I was one of five. By the time I came around, they just didn't give a shit anymore. What kinda shit is that? I just don't get it." Nate looked at me with those eyes. He didn't say anything. He has the most amazing eyes. I like to cup his face in my hands and rub my thumbs along his high cheek bones. Just staring into his eyes. He's a good listener. He always has been. I like that about him.

short stories

patience. it doesn't exist in my world. if you're in front of me, get the fuck out of my way. i can't seem to get a grip on it. control it. the driver's seat of my car is a haven for anxiety. MOVE! christ.
the grocery store. can't do it. i can't walk up and down the isles slowly dodging other people and their kids and their carts. the indecisiveness of it all. the SLOWNESS of it all. standing in the checkout line. forget it.


what did she think of me? i just said "hello". she gave me a look. a look of disgust. as if she were scared of me even from a distance. before i even spoke. is it my clothes? can people see through me? do they know where i've been? what i've done? is my face posted somewhere? fuck. gimme a fuckin' break. i hate this shit. i hate people. that stupid bitch. i was treated better in lock up. respected. i'm not respected out here. people don't give a fuck.
i don't wanna be here. i don't wanna be here.

Time for Change, part 3

i'll get back to you....

untitled

i don't think i will live a long life. i believe god has marked me as one who does not appreciate what i have, therefore he will one day soon strike me down or create an incurable disease inside of me. the sad thing is that i wouldn't have a difficult time accepting it. i cannot seem to get a grip on my reality, whatever that may be. it seems as though i will never be happy, especially living with the circumstances i have created for myself. i too often look at my daughter with resentment and regret and thoughts of what could have been won't leave my mind. i'm living this robotic existence and cannot seem to find love or anyone who i could share the rest of my life with. today is a bad day for contentment. it's just not happening. i want to go away for awhile. somewhere hot and sunny and full of water. no mailbox. no car. no noise. the only thing priceless is silence.