My Nemesis has Returned!!!!!

That fucking bear is back... That dirty bear... He haunts my dreams... Hell, he stalks my fucking house!

Has anyone else received mail directly from Charmin? Of all the people in the world, it comes to me? ME?!

Read HERE, HERE, and HERE for my feelings on toilet paper advertising.

You all say I should quit talking about it, but what do I have to do? Take out a restraining order on this foul feces covered bear and his poorly hygiened family to make the assaults in my home stop? Look what just came in the mail!!

What the hell does that even mean? For a clean you will notice? What sort of "UNcleanness" is the general public experiencing right now where this marketing slogan is getting results?

I know I keep writing about it, but in all reality, I'm dumbfounded. I'm speechless. I'm in awe! Also, I'm pretty fucking offended too.

Can someone make it stop!?

Taming my ego...

Now, I know I keep talking about exercise, but that was really just the catalyst to some emotional understanding, so bear with me.
Normally I avoid doing anything that I can't win at. I'm a very determined (nearly obsessive) and competitive person. I'm a perfectionist and hard on myself. Choosing this running thing is really testing me because I've had the realization that I will never win at it. I am not and never will be a contender. So do I stick with it? What is the point, really?

The run club that I've joined meets 6 days a week. On the weekends we do long runs and on Wednesdays at a local high school track for what they call speed work. Speed Work is a group of people RACING the following: 

*) Run 1 mile to warm up
*) Run 800 meters (Rest 90 sec)
*) Run 600 meters (Rest 90 sec)
*) Run 500 meters (Rest 90 sec)
*) Run 400 meters (Rest 90 sec)
*) Run 300 meters (Rest 90 sec)
*) Cool down (like 1/2 a mile)

That whole process takes about an hour. It's at 6pm which is about 100 degrees outside and it's miserable for everyone.

Yet, no matter how many people show up, I am dead last EVERY round, EVERY time.

60 year old men are lapping me and patting me on the back and saying "Good job kid, good job" which I feel is completely humiliating and patronized and awful! I have never been so embarrassed and discouraged in all my life. I turn red and I gasp for air and 90 seconds is not near enough time to recover my breath or my dignity. The tears well up in my eyes and it is nearly defeating. NEARLY. I don't know what makes me keep walking back out to that start line.

So, seriously, what the hell is going on out there?
What information am I to glean from these experiences?
Do I keep going knowing I'm hopelessly slow?
Why am I doing this?

I honestly feel like these are passionate gracious people who are simply tolerating my participation. Like how you would let a "challenged" child play on your team out of kindness even though they really offer ZERO contribution to the actual game.

I don't have any answers. I think at this point, my only resolve is to TRY and look at this differently. The ONLY thread I have is that I'm there. I'm doing it week after week. I'm doing the best I can.

That's it. That's all I've got.

Same Sh*t, Different Day

But oddly enough, I'm okay with it. I just really really hate being a one-track record. Isn't that weird? I'm more concerned with people thinking I'm boring or uneven than I am about my own feelings about my life.

Truth is, I'm very focused right now and I like it. I actually have a huge insurmountable goal ahead of me that I don't think I can do, which pretty much has guaranteed I'm going to do whatever it takes to make sure I can do it!  Did that make sense?

I've told you all over and over again I'm a nervous person. Pushing myself to go out and do new things is draining because it requires a very strong self-talk! So when I can focus on some future event and fall into a pretty rigorous routine - I LIKE IT - It's good for me.

So what's this goal you say? I want to call myself a runner! You thought I was going to say it was running the half-marathon November 7th (Put it in your calendars please, I want you there with a big sign. EXTRA glittery!) didn't you? The actual marathon isn't the goal though. That's just the time frame I've given myself to FEEL like I'm a runner.

What does being a runner feel like? I don't know!
*Does it mean having expensive gear? Got that! (this is not a poor mans sport, jesus christ!)
*Does it mean running a certain number of miles per week? I'm doing at least 15 right now.
*Does it mean eating and stretching and dreaming and talking about it? Doing that too. (Sorry guys)
*Does it mean joining a running club and surrounding yourself with other people more passionate than you? Boy howdy did I pick a crazy and practically infamous running club.
*Does it mean entering competitive races? Did my 1st one July 4th and was able to beat my goal time which was very exciting.

Yeah, still not feeling it.

I got knocked down by my doctor who informed me I have environmentally induced asthma! No wonder all this work is still HARD! I'm on inhaler after inhaler too. UGH I hate taking medicine. But I'm stubborn and I've made my mind up this is what I'm going to do god dammit and I'm going to do it!

So that's what I do... I get up, I go to work, I go run/exercise/weight train, I meet with my running club, I try to nibble on something healthy and then fall asleep and start the whole process over.

Did you know today was my birthday? What did I do, you ask? I kept my 7:30pm training appointment, that's what I did! WHY? Because I could be out and eating and drinking, but the real gift to myself is one of health of peace of mind that I'm doing everything I can to accomplish my one big huge insurmountable goal! YAY ME!

Next blog... Taming the ego!

I just met that Murphy guy and let me tell you, he's a Mother F****r!

You know Murphy right? That guy who makes it rain right after you wash your car? That guy who magically makes a bill show up for the exact amount of your tax return? Yeah, that guy. What a douche.

He just got to me too. I was really excited to finally pay off my car. Then mother fucker Murphy showed his fat unwanted ass up.

First the title came in the mail which was a joyous day!

THEN - a gigantic boulder game flying out of nowhere and cracked the windshield in an unrepairable way!

It's ok, it's ok - I can deal.

THEN, I found this note on my car while innocently shopping at Target.

Yeah. Someone backed into my car and drove away. I found the damage too - A dent in the rear passenger wheel and it ripped the wheel wells protective lining out of its clips. SIGH.

AND THEN... TODAY... after working an 11 hour day and mustering the last drop of energy to still go to the gym, I get in my car to come home and get some food and what do I see?

 See that there on the bottom left?  Yep, the engine light.

Really, Murphy? REALLY? You and all your STUPID laws are pushing my last button.

SIGH.

It's a good car. It's a new car. I take good care of my stuff. I'm not some dumb girl who avoids oil changes or maintenance or even car washes. UGH. Why would all this happen right after it's paid? So disheartening.

What more do you want from me!?!?!

Yep, it's 9:48 and I'm ready to go to bed. I've been drinking 64+ ounces of water every day. I've been working 10+ hours a day. Counting calories, drinking my breakfast drink, getting enough fiber, eating right... I've been going to the gym every day (Today I ran 3 miles) and yet I've been unable to wear myself out enough to sleep well. What am I missing here?

Wanted to share a really pretty sunset with you before I jet off to never never land.

Snow Bunny

I don't know if I told you, but this last weekend I took a little jaunt up to Tahoe. "Jaunt" as in 10 hours of dangerous driving into the gaping mouth of a wintery Armageddon.... uhhhhhh oh wait, that was just my mom trying to scare me into safety. It was actually a pretty smooth drive sans the speeding ticket I got!

 

 I've never been to Tahoe, but it was SOO pretty. We shopped at the little boutiques and I watched people gamble! I also had the realization I'm pretty unaccustomed to snow, mostly because I'm cold during the summers in Fresno so why would I go somewhere where my body gets doused in ice! It snowed all day Saturday which was cool. Look at my car!!

It NEVER snows in Fresno so I was like a kid staring out the windows exclaiming something stupid about the snow over and over. Snowflakes are pretty although this picture makes them look like dirt. ha ha

I didn't sleep well my last night because I was sure the blizzard would force me to spend the next week living off dirty peanut M&M's and recycled urine as I clawed my way out of the largest avalanche the world has ever seen! Oh wait, that was just the scenario my mom came up with as a way of telling me she loves me and her helping me to be more prepared. She loves me A LOT!

Anyways, I woke up and hit the road to try and beat the storm out of town. Umm, turns out things were quite "heavenly"... ah aha ha - Get It? That's the name of the mounta.... ok, anyways, look at the unsafe picture I took while driving!

I made it home safe and sound! Sort of! As I come off the 41 onto Friant (2 miles from home) my brakes start to make a weird sound. I'll never live down the guilt of asking my dad to investigate because he missed the 1st hour of the Super Bowl!!!! BUT, he discovered a bolt that holds together my front brake caliper had fallen off. OMG! Luckily it was a fairly easy fix and we're back to business as usual, but WHEW! That was close.

Anyways, what'd you do this weekend?

Gotta Go -Gotta Go -Gotta Go -GOTTA GO!

So drinking water sucks. Like major. Who's with me? This is flippin' ridiculous!

OMG, your body is 75% water.
HEY, your brain can like die.
WHOA, you've never been hungry, it's a false reaction from your dehydrated body trying to tell you you're thirsty.
UMMM, the only thing more important than water is air.

GAG GAG GAG

You know what's more important? Me not being in the bathroom 75% of the day! That's what.

Do you realize that by the time I get to work at 8 (okay okay, 8:20) I'm already DYING to pee for the third, YES THIRD, time of the day. Is this not upsetting to you?

So you're supposed to drink all this water, but isn't frequent urination a problem? I see commercials for "overactive" bladders and you need a pill for that. Also, I thought if you peed too many times a day it was a warning sign for diabetes.

OH. MY. GOD. How will I ever know if I have diabetes now !?!?!?!?

You know that feeling where you don't have to go to pee?.... YOU DO??.... Because I haven't felt that in days. DAYS!  I may have talked about my hatred for water HERE too.

I read on this one site you should have 12 quarts of water a day, double that if you're exercising!!! After using my google conversion chart awesome math skillz, I realized that's anywhere from 3 - 6 GALLONS of water a day. I had to call and yell at my mother for that one. Sorry mom. Of course, she says her rule of thumb was to divide your weight in half and that's how many ounces of water you should drink a day. The women in our family must all be overachievers because both of us are drinking around 90 oz a day! DAMN that's A LOT of water!

Then I read somewhere that says if you don't pee every 3 - 4 hours it's a sign of a problem. Will the medical community please tell me they think it's a problem if you have to go every 3 - 4 MINUTES? Can I get some pills here STAT!?!?

Yeah, not cool dude.

On a scale of 1 to 10...

How gross would you say crotch sweat is?

I'm gonna say it's about an 8 - UGH!

Can you tell me why it is that I have a trainer who works my calves and my quads and my arms and my abs, but the only thing that sweats is my crotch?

Nothing more awesome than a cute 21 year old musclebound trainer seeing that. Yeah, wow, sorry Erik, how come I have to show you my absolute worst in order to eventually look my best?

Here I am, twice a week, letting you see me at my worst - complaining, in pain, sweaty, and smelly.

Yeah, WAAAAAY T. M. I.   I know, I know.

Sorry.

Is NOTHING sacred?

This post requires back story - SORRY - put your reading glasses on, it's about to get intense. I have issues. You knew that already didn't you? :( Well, fooey on you!

Anyways, I may **MAY** have a slight problem with toilet paper advertising campaigns.
Commence reading HERE and HERE.

I like getting mail. Even if it's bills, I get really excited to seem my name on something. I'm weird I know, HOWEVER, this... This is HIGHLY inappropriate. This is OFFENSIVE.



I've never been more horrified in all my life! SERIOUSLY! Soften your "bottom" line...?  NO FUCKING WAY I just read that. NO WAY.

We will not even DISCUSS the need for "UltraStrong" toilet paper.

In fact, dear friends, I don't even think I can have this discussion anymore. It just makes me ill! Assaulting me in my home with this dirty pervert bear waggling his feces covered rear at me - I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE! Make it stop, will you? PLEASE!!

There are no words...

Only a huge sigh...

Really?!

You can click on the Label if you want to and read all about it.

I AM THE WORLDS BIGGEST KLUTZ!

It causes me extreme pain - and not in a physical way. I won't post pictures because it just hurts too bad. I know I use humor as a deflection and my blog as a way to release the things that bother me, but this is so painful, hurtful, embarrassing... I just don't even know what to do.  UGH UGH UGH

I was just walking in from our little cafe outside. It's still kind of muddy under the patio from Tuesdays downpour. FLOOP! Feet right out from underneath me!!! Took the polish right off my toenails, scuffed my pants, mud everywhere.

AND YOU KNOW this never happens when no one is looking. VP, GSM, and a new employee RIGHT THERE to see me suddenly decide to sit indian style in the mud. Of course, like a true professional klutz, I didn't spill my soda or my little snack pack of cheezits. That's something right?

SERIOUSLY? Who else does this happen to? I can't think of anyone. I never see people eat it, drop stuff, break things, or fall down. I'm on an island of shame over here.

I need every one of you to write a post detailing your most embarrassing moments and send me a link so I feel better. PLEASE!!

Night Terrors

I cannot and do not watch scary movies. Never. EVER.

What's funny is that, for me, reality is FAR more terrifying than anything a movie could portray. Mostly, my horror flicks involve nature shows about snakes or spiders or anything that has hoarders or dirty people. It is SO EXTREME. I just CANNOT contain myself.

Isn't there a saying "These are the things dreams are made of" ??

Well, let me show you what my nightmares are made of.

AAAAAHHHHHHH!!! That is SOOO NASTY...

People are GROSS! I simply cannot understand how anyone - ANYONE - could look at this and not take immediate action. Do you all understand why I am so tired all the time?

Of course, I cleaned it. I want you to be able sleep tonight, so here is the finished product.

I just find laziness and filth to be the most disgusting combination of things. It also is so very very unnecessary. PLEASE, do not be that person.

The Lone Sock

I'm pretty sure I'm losing my mind.

Look at this picture!

LOOK AT IT!!
If this were your sock, exactly how many days would you walk over it...? around it...? by it...?

We're on day 6 ladies and gentlemen.

SIX DAYS!

That's approximately 15 times each person in this household would have crossed paths with the lonely Hanes.

Just so you know, you can bet the coming tribulation on the fact that this is not my sock. Ever met a person on the edge? That's me - I'm at my limit. It's all these little things. It's not the working 12 hours a day. It's not the family issues and money woe. It's the lunacy that is knowing people can exist in a world where they can just check out and walk over this stupid sock! Personally, I feel this is very unfair to me. What are my options here?

(1) I pick up the sock, walk around and ask everyone, "Is this your sock?" and handle it for them
(2) I don't pick up the sock and step over it like the rest of them while very unceremoniously liquifying my internal organs
(3) Set fire to the house and just make it all just "go away"

So far, I've opted for Option 2. I'll keep you posted.

Making cleaning fun...

Yeah, I'm a bitch... a big ole one too! I should be writing about how awesome my roommates are (Which I usually do BTW) but I'm also terribly terribly flawed.

I'm pretty sure they are playing a game with me. They have to be. I think the game is to see how quickly they can get the girl with MILD OCD symptoms to go completely lunatic raving mad insane.

Like how is it possible to open a closet door in the hallway and NOT SHUT IT completely? How do you leave it cracked? EVERY TIME YOU OPEN IT? HOW? Please teach me... because (and this may be a rather bold statement) I'm pretty sure that if my house was on fire and my most prized possessions were in that closet and all I had to do was grab them and run to safety - EVEN THEN I would still close the door completely.

I'm a STRONG believer in the philosophy "A place for everything and everything in it's place." I don't know if that's a philosophy actually. A statement? A quote? Let's make it a lifestyle. It's my lifestyle! I have little trays and a certain order I put things in. My kitchen drawers are very "consistent"... That's the word I'm going to use to downplay OCD, ok? Sort of like the hoarder who says they have a "cluttering" problem.

Anyways, I have a little caddy I use to hold my earth friendly cleaning supplies. They are for everyone to use as I "encourage" cleaning, ya know? This is how I found my caddy after someone so generously cleaned the kitchen while I was at work.

Let me just assure you, it does NOT look like that!

Look closer... This is me being clinically diagnosed INSANE!

INSANE!!!!


Someone tell me what is going on here. How come the bottles aren't upright? I.don't.understand.
DOES
NOT
COMPUTE

Was this a new way to make cleaning fun? Do we stand across the room and throw the cleaning bottles at the caddy and see if you can make a goal or what? It's like a physical impossibility for me to do anything like this.

And what am I supposed to do? HA! I just straightened it and said thanks for cleaning the kitchen, but oh my god, I wonder if they'll ever know how crazy I am. You don't think I'm crazy, DO YOU?

Failed Apology or New Beginning?

So, I've been vague lately and truth be told I'm ALL OF THE ABOVE. I'm tired, sure, conflicted, energized, and confused all at once.

If you are new here, back story is this:
• In December I wrote THIS about my biological father.
• In May he reminded me that some things never change when I took THIS phone call.
• In July my story was told at ViolenceUnsilenced.com and I felt like I finally had my answer.

Then last week he called and wanted me to go to lunch with him. I avoided... He was sarcastic with me about avoiding him and I decided it was time to tell him what was really going on... I told him... told him how I felt... told him why I didn't want to see him... Told him in explicit painstaking detail the who what where when and why and it didn't even phase him... A normal person would have been brought to their knees and yet HE MADE EXCUSES.

You see, what I don't understand is what it's like to be a parent and be concerned for your child (I don't have to understand shit)
You see, he's a good person, a follower of christ (Don't play on my people pleasing fault and DO NOT MAKE THIS ABOUT THE BIBLE... PLEASE)
You see, the bible says no one is perfect (Last time I checked NO ONE was perfect but had never spoken to me, treated me, or hurt me like he has)
You see, he feels like I've always been embarrassed of him and thought he was stupid and that I WAS AN INTELLECTUAL and better than him (Do NOT capitalize on my guilt for finally deciding to fight for myself to protect myself)
You see, I've incorrectly built up a wall that he just doesn't know what to do about. (Ummm, fucking duh...)
You see, he's just gonna "put the ball in my court" if I want to see him again.
And I made my peace... Peace that I made the right decision because I finally spoke my truth and gave him the chance to hear and he chose not to.

AND THEN TODAY... These came:


What the hell am I supposed to do with THAT?

My mom says to revel in the moment, but that I'm under no obligation to do anything but smell the roses.
My friend says to appreciate the nice gesture.
My gut says that you can't have a new beginning without an apology for the past FIRST.
My heart says it hurts and I cried.
My mind wished he would've just stayed an asshole so the decision to keep him out of my life would be an easy one.

Now what do I do? Call? Be willing to pursue a relationship? UGH, I'm at my limit. MY LIMIT. THE EDGE...

So miss wonderful universe... my precious mother earth... what say you now? I am officially a lost soul desperately looking for an answer that no one can give.

And Oh, how I pray...

Oh, how I pray.

Do you pray? REALLY pray? I mean, REALLY REALLY?

Oh, how I pray.

A prayer that makes you break into a cold sweat. One of such intensity it brings you to your knees. A feverish pleading with the forces that be. A hand wringing, heart beating, brow furrowed prayer. A desperate yet quiet cry and yet the response I get is, disappointingly, what I asked for - NOTHING.

You see, what I want, NO, what I NEED is nothing. I scream for it, for space. I beg for it, for time. I dream of it, a vacuum. I sacrifice for it, for silence. Sweet elusive silence.

AND Oh, how I pray.

Please, god, buddha, mother earth, PLEASE, where is the off switch?

There is no psychologist, no drink, no pill that quiets her voice.

Eyes open or closed, asleep or awake, ever present she speaks. Every fear, contradiction, judgement, change, difference, and opinion. Every scenario, possibility, and action. Every blink, every risk, every danger. She speaks. Without hesitation or even pause for breath, she rambles on, droning past intention and pleadings...

And OH HOW I PRAY, just for one minute, PLEASE let there be silence.

There is no TV show, no nature walk, no song that stops her dialog, her voice.

Am I crazy? Or am I just that sharp? Oh, how I pray for dullness. Oh, how I pray for mediocrity. Oh, how I mouth the words in silent imitation of my deepest desire - for there to be no voice.

For stillness.

Presence.

Silence.

Peace.

Pecking order of death (UPDATE: MORE PICTURES)

So there are city girls and there are country girls. I'd like to think I'm a decent mix of both. I was raised a country girl riding horses, catching lizards, and climbing trees among other things, but I absolutely love reality TV, manicures, and using any excuse to buy a new *anything*...

I'm terrified of snakes and spiders, but I'm okay with squirrels and june bugs and rats - go figure!

HOWEVER
YOU KNOW WHAT'S SCARY??

GEESE!

There are 7 families of geese at this place I go to every day. Here is a video of 2 families.
(Taken from the safety of my car)

Yes, they may not seem that scary just waddling their fat happy asses across the road, but what if you were forced to WALK by them? OH. MY. GOD.

1st of all - did you know that these midieval red eyed devils will hiss at you like a viper? Oh you did know that? Well, screw you because I did not know that and 911 had to take the paddles to me because it scared me to death!
2nd of all - I offer you the below picture that, for the sake of this blog, I risked my life to take!

Do you see the sniper goose at the top? I recommend you zoom in on this picture. I have highlighted with green arrow the two Carl Lewis' of the group, beaks agape, feet in FULL run towards me.


I had video of this encounter, but I deleted it too soon. I had accidentally hit the button twice, so when I thought I stopped it, I actually started it. All you hear is me say AAAAAHHHHH and then the camera drops down and videos my feet run away. Only now that it's gone do I realize how funny it was. DANG IT!

Do you see how they are EVERYWHERE I go? SO MANY!

Violence Unsilenced

I don't know if it's incredibly scary or really really brave, but I did something out of character.

I took a subject which (until the end of the year) I had never spoken about and not only published it on my blog, but submitted it to Violence Unsilenced. This was months ago though and I had completely forgotten about it until yesterday when I received an email saying it was my turn to have my story featured. You can go there and read it if you want to.

This all started after I had some very intense and surprising internal reactions to writing this post. Not because I was in denial about it, but because writing it all down at one time, in one place, made it so plain to see that it was something serious. All these years I had brushed it off as not being anything to worry about. Perhaps the individual memories weren't noteworthy, but together they had weight... they were heavy... and WHILE SCARY or possibly really really brave, saying something was the turning point for me!

Blogging and putting yourself out there in a public forum is difficult. You run the risk of people misinterpreting what you say... Of people who don't know you (and actually people who DO know you) judging you... This is my worst fear and yet strangely blogging/writing is SO SO cathartic for me. I take all these heavy thoughts and burdens and I release them to the universe. Plus, for me, I find my biggest motivation in life is to connect and share with others. I probably go about it a bit passive aggressive by blogging, being all quasi anonymous and all... but oh well.

I know what my intention is. I try SO very hard to be the best I can be. To be kind. To be thoughtful. To know I DON'T KNOW the fully story of those that I encounter. To treat others how I want to be treated. Ultimately you can't please everyone, but I keep putting it out there anyways. Sometimes you just gotta take a chance, ya know?

Part 1 - The Bravery...

Well, this last weekend proved to be insanely busy and quite wonderful, but first shall we take a journey?

Truth be told, I'm a chronic doubter of myself, which is funny (OK not funny) because typing it out just sounds ridiculous. Doing new things though usually leaves me crippled with fear. What if I don't know what to say? What if I wear the wrong outfit? What if my sarcasm is taken wrong? What if I know someone but I don't remember their name and they hate me? What if... what if... what if...??

Maybe I have no self-perception? This is kinda untrue as I'm pretty introspective and spend the majority of my time in my head, but also kinda very true because when people tell me how they perceive me, I never see it coming. Like if you locked me in a room and said, write down everything you think I'm thinking, I probably wouldn't come up with it. Damn you people are strange and unpredictable. Which is also funny because 99% of the time all I have to do is be within 5 feet of you and I will feel in my stomach whether we can be friends or not.

Usually when I first meet someone, I'm pretty much a dud. I sit and I watch and I listen. How do you talk? What do you think is funny? I watch how you blink and how you segue and how you move your hands when you talk and how you raise your eyebrows. I notice your shoes. I smell you. I fully envelope myself in you. Now you think I'm a total stalker. I DIDN'T MEAN IT LIKE THAT!

I just want to know how I'm supposed to be. Its like learning the steps to a newly choreographed dance. Should I be excited or quiet? Do you need to be the center of attention? What are your motivations? Are you religious? What's your favorite drink? What type of music do you listen to? What are you passionate about? You know, all the standard things you need to know when you are trying to assimilate someone. JUST KIDDING!

Maybe you never see it...? Maybe you think I'm funny and talkative and happy and smart...? God only knows... BUT anyways... enough about that!

Remember, I said we were going on a journey?

I only say all of the above so that you know how much mental effort it takes for me to leave the house. It takes a lot. To overcome that MOUNTAIN of questionable data and still say I had a good weekend is the testament of all time!

Well, in telling you all of my deepest darkest secrets, we've completed phase 1 of this "journey" and you can now proceed down the long hallway to your right, to MY WEEKEND!

See you tomorrow for Part 2 - The Excited

Good times were had by all...

Okay, no no - that was a lie. See, I'm a great marketer. I lured you in with a catchy jingle and promises of whoozits whatsit, but the product was of poor quality and misrepresented. OOOPS! So maybe that title was a bit misleading, but no takesies backsies... You're here and now you have to read about it!

I guess, first, I'd like to say it started out really really shitty. If anyone has deduced that I may not be a morning person, it won't really earn you anything because everyone on earth should know that. However, when my phone rang at 7:30am I knew something was wrong. I clamored out of the shower only to see my real dads number on the caller ID. Sigh.
I shouldn't answer...
But maybe it's important...
If it's important he'll leave a message...
For gods sake, how old are you anyways? Just answer the phone.

ME: Hello?
HIM: (Funny voice) Yes, this is the *company I work for* corporate office. We're sorry to inform you that we're going through another round of layoffs and unfortunately we're not going to be needing your services anymore... So luckily for you, you can go ahead and go back to bed.
ME: .........
HIM: hahahahahahahahahahaha

Am I the only one who thinks that is just about the shittiest most fucked up way to ask your daughter to lunch because you are going to be in town? What an asshole. There were two other jokes, one involving him leaving his debts and responsibilities to me should something happen during surgery and a follow up call pretending to be the doctor letting me know my father had passed away.

UMMMMMMMM?????? WHAT?!

I should mention that during the ENTIRE delivery of the aforementioned jokes, I continuously repeated "This is not funny, I don't think this is funny, this is not funny, please stop I don't find this even remotely funny" to which he finished and laughed heartily anyways.

I am ashamed that this is a part of me. I am also hurt. I am also so confused. Without the droning on of the poor me's and the is this normals... I'll just stop. No one wants to read all the drivel.

Everyone has their demons. Their hauntings. The shadow that follows them wherever they go.

I'm kick a$$ in my own mind... Also, patting myself on the back in a public forum is sometimes how I apologize...

Truth be told I kept re-reading my last post and am a bit worried it will be misinterpreted. I just wanted everyone to understand that I don't just love my neighborhood, I love all of Fresno.

Oh, and also, I will kick your ass if you aren't nice to me! LOL


Please be nice to me!


*Hair by Troy Newland - Makeup by Val Newland