Yesterday was a turning point in my oh-so-short life. An ending to the last ten years that should be celebrated, but with only content. Yet, for some reason I'm left with this slightly empty feeling. Blasted back into the yesterdays and wondering where exactly everything took that wild and crazy turn. I've never really talked about what happened with the ex husband, nor do I find myself ever really wanting to either. It's safer being buried, deep, deep down inside both of us. Intimately, a secret for the rest of eternity is okay with me...and him, I presume.
On a much happier note, I'm back. Finding the urge to write. What about? I'm not really sure, but I now know that when I do, things inside me just open up. So, I'm thinking this may fill that empty void that is there, somewhere. Maybe, since my life is seriously turning into this almost morbid case of living on the couch and the softball field, twice a week, that I need a new hobby, so I'm thinking short stories? Funny imaginative things, in which I hope could happen to myself one day? Seems too tedious. Too far fetched. Too cliche. I couldn't possibly come up with anything interesting to fake. So...where shall I go with the rest of this post? Nothing interesting happens to me anymore. I've basically cut dating/men out of my life. I call it a "man fast". It's easier to hold them at a far, then to let them in and break you down into a million different pieces.
There has been only one who passes the "man fast" rule. Of course, he's not really aware of my every day personal life, so it makes everything a thousand times easier. He may be a secret, a very dirty one, but don't we all have those? Don't we all try and win over the one person who we know it'll never happen with!? We keep this image of "maybe someday" stored deep down, but never talk about it...because that would be excruciatingly painful to EVER bring up. Admitting to ones self, the one thing you've kept buried, for whatever length of time, never seems so easy when you're trying to sort things out for yourself. So a secret it will stay.
But little does he know that I have mentioned him on here. I'm not sure if he'd be excited, or on his way to my quaint apartment to off me, in a quick, unfashionable matter. I think he really has this dark side that could compel him to do so...if the situation every arose and it needed to be done. He just might have it in him. Then again, I'm not sure if that's just the joke we have between each other, or if it's really him trying to come forward and confess his true feelings...man, now I'm sorta scared for myself. Worry wrinkles - GO AWAY!
I'm turning things around. Going forward and not looking back...okay, maybe I'll look into the rear view mirror, every once in a while...maybe to parallel park, or to see what those red and blue lights are behind me, but other than that, no dipping back into those memories. Only goodness from here on out! Those who are with me REJOICE. Reverence and loyalty. We all need it. I shall give it. I will be "that girl"! ...No no no, not the Jesus loving Facebook freak, who continuously posts of His glory and always tries to get you to join her at church on Sunday, or that cat lady (although, someday I may just be here, with ten cats, a shopping cart and paper bags full of bird seed). Positivity and hope.
Oh fuck, it it. I'm too tired for this. How about a cigar, a glass of whiskey and that hot cowboy who keeps running from me!? Sounds soooooooo much better....
Monday, October 1, 2012
Sunday, July 22, 2012
Almost never counts...
I hope that someday he finds my journals, all my unspoken words of lust, passion, and heart felt dreamt up romance, and realizes all of it is about him...
Secrets only can stay hidden for as long as you can keep them buried. I know what has been done isn't right to the rest of the world but to just walk away would mean giving up everything I've ever wanted in a man. I'm torn between breaking my own heart and just flat out lying to him. Lying seems the better option of the two...I can't be let down that way, because i know I'll never be that woman a man is willing to put first in his life. I'll always be that other woman...
Secrets only can stay hidden for as long as you can keep them buried. I know what has been done isn't right to the rest of the world but to just walk away would mean giving up everything I've ever wanted in a man. I'm torn between breaking my own heart and just flat out lying to him. Lying seems the better option of the two...I can't be let down that way, because i know I'll never be that woman a man is willing to put first in his life. I'll always be that other woman...
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
part 2. still, don't fit in, but still the best night of my life.
...continued...
After the lesson, he dropped me back off at my apartment. Not in such a great mood. He was really stressed out about the horse. I mean, REALLY stressed out. I'd never seen a man so distraught over an animal. I almost felt back. I felt my anger kind of turning into pitty. So he began to talk. In comes the part about me being a good friend, and listener. He then left, back on his way to Visalia to save the horse. I don't even think he made it out of Fresno County before he turned back. He showed up back and my door and said he was stealing me so he would have someone else there to help, if need be. I think he really just wanted me there for comic relief, because I do random, dumb things, and injure myself. At this point, it's early evening, and I'm already in my pajamas. He didn't give me the option to change. Nor the opportunity. My pajamas consisted of a short pair of shorts and baggy t shirt that day. So off we went. I was kind of glad that he came back too, cause I had left my guitar in his truck and would have ended up having to go get it at some point...saved myself the gas, and mileage, that way.
We get back and I spend a few hours with Sandy, she was looking worse. Wouldn't stand up, so I laid with her. Brushed her and and petted her. Got her to eat a few carrots while Stinky Face fed the other horses and animals, threw around some hay, and broke upon a bunch of bails to make her comfy. I felt so bad for this horse, nothing brought her comfort. He called the vet, and set up for him to come out at some point because he didn't think she was going to make it. She was extremely dehydrated, only drinking a little here and there and panting like crazy. Hello labor pains and old age! Apparently we were on shifts, cause I one point I was told it was my break time and dinner was ready inside.
{Going back in time, slightly...before I had agreed to return to Visalia with him, I had told him he had to make me dinner, and his response to that was "candle lit". He's as sarcastic as I am, so I assumed he was full of shit.}
We both went back to his living quarters and washed up a little. Then went back into the house, where I stumbled my way to the kitchen, again, attempting not to break anything in the process. The kitchen was dark except for a little light that was coming from the kitchen table. A small candle was lit, I believe it to be a half broken candle somehow manipulated to stand up. He had placed two plates across from each other, neatly plated, he made chicken (fool is a health nut and doesn't eat anything that is red or not organic...psh whatever!), brown rice and some crazy looking salad. All portioned exact and perfect. HOW CAN HE DO EVERYTHING SO DAMN PERFECT! damn man. I didn't realize how starving I was. I pretty much inhaled mine. All he did was push his around on his plate. At one point the candle started to fall, so he pulled out his I Phone and switched on his lighter app, he said it still counted as candle lit. Makes me laugh to think about it now. When I was done, he sent me out to check on the horse again while he did dishes and put things away. I walked out to the stable to meet his mom. She was on shift now. I actually helped move some hay around (watch out country girl!) and get a tranquilizer ready for "just in case", almost stabbing myself with it twice. A brush with death only I could encounter! After a few minutes I decided I needed to take off the million sizes too big boots and let me feet rest, so I mozied my way back to the "man cave" to dispose of them and relax. With no idea as to where he was at that point, I decided a nice bath sounded amazing! So I took full advantage! When I was done, I unfortunately had to throw on my shorts again, but found a clean sweatshirt in his closet to steal. He then walked in, saying a shower sounded about wonderful. We chatted for a few seconds and he started making his way toward the bathroom, removing his shirt in the process. I told myself I wasn't gonna look....swore I wouldn't...but my curiosity got the best of me, and my eyes wondered in his direction. PERFECTION! It was like the clouds of heaven had parted and shined down on him in every way imaginable. I was deep in a coma of horrible thoughts when his moms screams for help broke my concentration. He turned back around, threw his shirt back on (DAMN IT!) and toward the door.
I was standing up, about the time he had made it to his boots and had at least one of them on. Still in a fog, I grabbed my loaner boots and attempted to run out behind him. He had the second on and was like perfection running out the door. Still trying to wrap my head around what was going on, I managed to slip on the first with ease...made it to the doorway as I was trying to slip on the second massive boot, but my foot didn't quite make it into the opening and slipped. As my body began to fall forward, my foots natural reaction was to kick itself out in front of my. In a single motion, my large toe got caught on the opening of the boot, kicking forward to meet the door frame. Jamming not only my big toe farther into the boot and the hard wood, my second toe folded over to let me pinky tow and the one next to it slam into the door frame with a slight pop. That did it! Over I went, slightly out the door, doing a stellar barrel roll landing on my back, with my foot still in the air, still attempting to get my foot into the overly obese boot. God knows what I looked like, in the midst of my almost killing myself, he turns back to check on me screaming "MAN DOWN! MAN DOWN!", and attempts to stop mid run and turn back for me. I put my hand in the air and yell back "NO! GO ON WITHOUT ME! JUST GO ON!" He turns back to run towards his mom yelling "I'LL SEE YOU ON THE OTHER SIDE!" At this point I've given up on the boot, dropped it to my side and I'm spread out like I'm about to make a snow angel on the concrete right in front of the "man cave", accepting my defeat, I just lay there. Not really planning on getting up any time soon. My toe throbbing like nobodies business. I gave up.
After a few minutes of laying there, realizing the grim reaper wasn't going to show up anytime soon, I managed to pull myself up off the ground. Pulled the other boot on and limped my way toward the stable. Upon my entrance Mr Meany and his mom were standing next to the horse, apparently already finished with the crisis that needed to be handled, they turned to look at me with inquisitive eyes. Both looked back at each other and then burst into extreme laughter. Apparently I was a sight to see. I thought they were laughing at the situation, but no, they were laughing at me. When I finally make it over to him, he spins me around and busts into more laughter. I was COVERED in hay. Someone doesn't like to sweep the porch to the "man cave" often...because it's the "man cave", so when he tracks over the massive amounts of hay in front of the door, he doesn't really seem to care about it. He helped brushed me off, laughing to his mom about how he wished he had a camera at that exact moment in time. I, on the other hand, didn't find it that funny, but I was glad he was over the whole depression about his horse and could laugh again. Over tired and over worked, I plopped my butt down in a pile of hay to check my foot. My tow had bruised instantly. This I HAD to get a picture of. So I pretended to be mad at them and walked back to grab my phone and text everyone about my crazy interaction with the door frame.
At the same time, I thought I'd be a wonderful person and go inside and make the meany a sandwich, cause he hadn't eaten much of the dinner he had made, and because I'm a great person, right!? So I snuck away and pretended to own the place for a minute. Pretended I owned this gorgeous, lavish establishment, and that I was the head woman in the kitchen. Walked into the kitchen with confidence. It didn't last long though...once I realized I had NO IDEA where anything was. I pulled out the chicken he had put away earlier, tore the kitchen apart looking for a knife and all the condiments. Made one killer sandwich though! Then realized I had to clean up the mess I left. Called for a maid, but one didn't appear. Damn labor laws. Even grabbed him and his mom a water to sip on. How friggin' thoughtful am I!? Not really, just trying to show them my awesomeness. I walked back out, again, careful not to touch ANYTHING! I handed them their water, and he his sandwich, feeling pretty proud of myself I could tell I had a smug smile on my face. Well, he noticed it. Set the sandwich down, picked me up, carried me to the corner of the barn and threw me in an extremely large pile of hay. Who knew anyone on this earth could pick me up and carry me! let alone, throw me into a pile of gay. I ended up landing on my butt. Did you know that hay really hurts when you sit on it? Let along LAND ON IT!? I recall this from back in my ranching days, but I never knew it could feel like needles! At that point I gave up and just laid in the hay for the rest of the night. Yelling back and forth crazy antics, in which I always do, and to keep him from falling asleep. When I finally decided to climb out, I basically did a huge roll from the top to the bottom. Landing on the ground, so the bath I'd taken earlier was completely useless. The rest of the night was great, not to go into full long boring detail, but we ended up extremely exhausted, running back and forth taking the horse water, trying to get her to eat and not fall over when she'd stand up. Just one thing after another. Barely catching breaks here and there. I did wind up grabbing blankets and making a bed on the hay pile. Caught a few naps here and there. The next day was about as eventful, but nothing quite hysterical. At one point I nearly got ran over by a tractor and about trampled by Bessie the Cow. But all in all I lived to tell of my Ranch Adventure.
Someday, who knows, maybe I'll return to try it again. After all, that was ONE HOT COWBOY!
After the lesson, he dropped me back off at my apartment. Not in such a great mood. He was really stressed out about the horse. I mean, REALLY stressed out. I'd never seen a man so distraught over an animal. I almost felt back. I felt my anger kind of turning into pitty. So he began to talk. In comes the part about me being a good friend, and listener. He then left, back on his way to Visalia to save the horse. I don't even think he made it out of Fresno County before he turned back. He showed up back and my door and said he was stealing me so he would have someone else there to help, if need be. I think he really just wanted me there for comic relief, because I do random, dumb things, and injure myself. At this point, it's early evening, and I'm already in my pajamas. He didn't give me the option to change. Nor the opportunity. My pajamas consisted of a short pair of shorts and baggy t shirt that day. So off we went. I was kind of glad that he came back too, cause I had left my guitar in his truck and would have ended up having to go get it at some point...saved myself the gas, and mileage, that way.
We get back and I spend a few hours with Sandy, she was looking worse. Wouldn't stand up, so I laid with her. Brushed her and and petted her. Got her to eat a few carrots while Stinky Face fed the other horses and animals, threw around some hay, and broke upon a bunch of bails to make her comfy. I felt so bad for this horse, nothing brought her comfort. He called the vet, and set up for him to come out at some point because he didn't think she was going to make it. She was extremely dehydrated, only drinking a little here and there and panting like crazy. Hello labor pains and old age! Apparently we were on shifts, cause I one point I was told it was my break time and dinner was ready inside.
{Going back in time, slightly...before I had agreed to return to Visalia with him, I had told him he had to make me dinner, and his response to that was "candle lit". He's as sarcastic as I am, so I assumed he was full of shit.}
We both went back to his living quarters and washed up a little. Then went back into the house, where I stumbled my way to the kitchen, again, attempting not to break anything in the process. The kitchen was dark except for a little light that was coming from the kitchen table. A small candle was lit, I believe it to be a half broken candle somehow manipulated to stand up. He had placed two plates across from each other, neatly plated, he made chicken (fool is a health nut and doesn't eat anything that is red or not organic...psh whatever!), brown rice and some crazy looking salad. All portioned exact and perfect. HOW CAN HE DO EVERYTHING SO DAMN PERFECT! damn man. I didn't realize how starving I was. I pretty much inhaled mine. All he did was push his around on his plate. At one point the candle started to fall, so he pulled out his I Phone and switched on his lighter app, he said it still counted as candle lit. Makes me laugh to think about it now. When I was done, he sent me out to check on the horse again while he did dishes and put things away. I walked out to the stable to meet his mom. She was on shift now. I actually helped move some hay around (watch out country girl!) and get a tranquilizer ready for "just in case", almost stabbing myself with it twice. A brush with death only I could encounter! After a few minutes I decided I needed to take off the million sizes too big boots and let me feet rest, so I mozied my way back to the "man cave" to dispose of them and relax. With no idea as to where he was at that point, I decided a nice bath sounded amazing! So I took full advantage! When I was done, I unfortunately had to throw on my shorts again, but found a clean sweatshirt in his closet to steal. He then walked in, saying a shower sounded about wonderful. We chatted for a few seconds and he started making his way toward the bathroom, removing his shirt in the process. I told myself I wasn't gonna look....swore I wouldn't...but my curiosity got the best of me, and my eyes wondered in his direction. PERFECTION! It was like the clouds of heaven had parted and shined down on him in every way imaginable. I was deep in a coma of horrible thoughts when his moms screams for help broke my concentration. He turned back around, threw his shirt back on (DAMN IT!) and toward the door.
I was standing up, about the time he had made it to his boots and had at least one of them on. Still in a fog, I grabbed my loaner boots and attempted to run out behind him. He had the second on and was like perfection running out the door. Still trying to wrap my head around what was going on, I managed to slip on the first with ease...made it to the doorway as I was trying to slip on the second massive boot, but my foot didn't quite make it into the opening and slipped. As my body began to fall forward, my foots natural reaction was to kick itself out in front of my. In a single motion, my large toe got caught on the opening of the boot, kicking forward to meet the door frame. Jamming not only my big toe farther into the boot and the hard wood, my second toe folded over to let me pinky tow and the one next to it slam into the door frame with a slight pop. That did it! Over I went, slightly out the door, doing a stellar barrel roll landing on my back, with my foot still in the air, still attempting to get my foot into the overly obese boot. God knows what I looked like, in the midst of my almost killing myself, he turns back to check on me screaming "MAN DOWN! MAN DOWN!", and attempts to stop mid run and turn back for me. I put my hand in the air and yell back "NO! GO ON WITHOUT ME! JUST GO ON!" He turns back to run towards his mom yelling "I'LL SEE YOU ON THE OTHER SIDE!" At this point I've given up on the boot, dropped it to my side and I'm spread out like I'm about to make a snow angel on the concrete right in front of the "man cave", accepting my defeat, I just lay there. Not really planning on getting up any time soon. My toe throbbing like nobodies business. I gave up.
After a few minutes of laying there, realizing the grim reaper wasn't going to show up anytime soon, I managed to pull myself up off the ground. Pulled the other boot on and limped my way toward the stable. Upon my entrance Mr Meany and his mom were standing next to the horse, apparently already finished with the crisis that needed to be handled, they turned to look at me with inquisitive eyes. Both looked back at each other and then burst into extreme laughter. Apparently I was a sight to see. I thought they were laughing at the situation, but no, they were laughing at me. When I finally make it over to him, he spins me around and busts into more laughter. I was COVERED in hay. Someone doesn't like to sweep the porch to the "man cave" often...because it's the "man cave", so when he tracks over the massive amounts of hay in front of the door, he doesn't really seem to care about it. He helped brushed me off, laughing to his mom about how he wished he had a camera at that exact moment in time. I, on the other hand, didn't find it that funny, but I was glad he was over the whole depression about his horse and could laugh again. Over tired and over worked, I plopped my butt down in a pile of hay to check my foot. My tow had bruised instantly. This I HAD to get a picture of. So I pretended to be mad at them and walked back to grab my phone and text everyone about my crazy interaction with the door frame.
At the same time, I thought I'd be a wonderful person and go inside and make the meany a sandwich, cause he hadn't eaten much of the dinner he had made, and because I'm a great person, right!? So I snuck away and pretended to own the place for a minute. Pretended I owned this gorgeous, lavish establishment, and that I was the head woman in the kitchen. Walked into the kitchen with confidence. It didn't last long though...once I realized I had NO IDEA where anything was. I pulled out the chicken he had put away earlier, tore the kitchen apart looking for a knife and all the condiments. Made one killer sandwich though! Then realized I had to clean up the mess I left. Called for a maid, but one didn't appear. Damn labor laws. Even grabbed him and his mom a water to sip on. How friggin' thoughtful am I!? Not really, just trying to show them my awesomeness. I walked back out, again, careful not to touch ANYTHING! I handed them their water, and he his sandwich, feeling pretty proud of myself I could tell I had a smug smile on my face. Well, he noticed it. Set the sandwich down, picked me up, carried me to the corner of the barn and threw me in an extremely large pile of hay. Who knew anyone on this earth could pick me up and carry me! let alone, throw me into a pile of gay. I ended up landing on my butt. Did you know that hay really hurts when you sit on it? Let along LAND ON IT!? I recall this from back in my ranching days, but I never knew it could feel like needles! At that point I gave up and just laid in the hay for the rest of the night. Yelling back and forth crazy antics, in which I always do, and to keep him from falling asleep. When I finally decided to climb out, I basically did a huge roll from the top to the bottom. Landing on the ground, so the bath I'd taken earlier was completely useless. The rest of the night was great, not to go into full long boring detail, but we ended up extremely exhausted, running back and forth taking the horse water, trying to get her to eat and not fall over when she'd stand up. Just one thing after another. Barely catching breaks here and there. I did wind up grabbing blankets and making a bed on the hay pile. Caught a few naps here and there. The next day was about as eventful, but nothing quite hysterical. At one point I nearly got ran over by a tractor and about trampled by Bessie the Cow. But all in all I lived to tell of my Ranch Adventure.
Someday, who knows, maybe I'll return to try it again. After all, that was ONE HOT COWBOY!
part 1. i don't fit in.
I've always considered myself a giving person. A friend in need, distress, whatever the case may be. I'm a great listener and am always willing to help a person when they just need someone to talk to. This time my "caring" went a little far...sort of took me out of my comfort zone, challenged my friendship abilities. Got a little injured in the process, but hell...I loved every minute of it.
I received a call from my "man friend" about his horse....literally...the living, breathing creature horse. Named Sandy. Mr Man Friend, being completely beside himself in regards to her not so great health. His baby was pregnant. Not doing so great, either. Sick, not eating, wouldn't stand up...normally usual for a horse about to give birth. But according to his calculations, she was in preterm labor. For those of you who know nothing about horses and their breeding rituals/pregnancy whoas, this is a bad thing. Foals rarely survive when they don't bake long enough in the oven, it's just not something horses are known for....moving on with my story.
I was slightly upset with this man friend and his dumb girl friend...well ex, now (don't judge me, I do what I do cause I wanna and cause I can), but the details aren't really important, just important for you to remember that I was mad at him. One evening I get a call from his mother, whom I needed to return a key to, that I mistakenly ended up in possession of. She was en route back to their ranch in the Visalia area, from Oregon, after purchasing a new filly. She cordially invited me to join her at her lovely home for an evening of movie watching and horse back riding the next morning. Who doesn't love horseback riding?! So I was more than down to partake in the activities. So, she picks me up at a very ridiculous 1 am or so and we're off. We arrive at her IMMACULATE and humble abode in the middle of nowhere's-ville and I take my place on the couch, making sure not to touch anything breakable, and keep my footing, so I didn't take a crazy spill and break some ridiculously over priced glass or porcelain item, most likely an antique passed on from thousands of generations...blah blah blah. Upon my sitting on the couch, I see Mr Meany sitting at the kitchen counter, covered in dirt from working with the horse all day, all sweaty looking delicious....I mean eating a delicious sandwich, in which I DID NOT cordially or formally acknowledge, of course. I was there to visit with his mom and return her property. She left me on the couch, and disappeared to change into something more lounge appropriate attire. Upon her return she begins to tell me that she's exhausted from her trip. That she can't possibly stay up and that we'll just have to do movie night again another time, and for the night I'll just have to hang out with stupid face in the stables. That's when it hit me. THIS WAS ALL A SET UP. He conned her into picking me up so I couldn't say no. Ugh, well I'll show him!
He had disappeared into some other part of the house, in which I had no intention of ever seeing, or learning, I was there merely for a business. So alone I sat. On the couch. In dead silence. With the cat, Driscoe (if I have never mentioned this before, cats and I don't get along. AT ALL. They are all out to murder me. Viciously.) The cat was giving me the stare of death, I know he was thinking of the thousands of ways he could slit my throat with those sharp claws, and I'd never even know what hit me. I could see it in his eyes. Driscoe and his deathly scary claws. A few minutes later I heard a piano playing, coming from somewhere down some hidden hallway somewhere in the crazy mansion style house (I'm over exaggeration or course, but who has a house like that!? No one I know) . Who the eff plays the piano at 2 am!? Whom, besides my mother, even know HOW to play the piano!? Was it coming from a radio somewhere? Then I hear "Sara, come here...". Ugh, it was Butt Face. So I had to choose my fate. Death via cat, or deal with the man I was mad at....I'll take the man for $500 Alex. So I ever so gracefully, and carefully, lifted my big ol butt off the couch, making sure not to make any sudden or ridiculous moved, in case Driscoe decided he was going to act quickly on his murder plans. I even leaned over and petted his head to let him know that I was leaving in peace, so he didn't attack me from behind. I'm still here, so my peace offering must have been accepted.
Off I meandered down this glorious hallway of "oh so happy" family photos. Two gorgeous young females posing with the butt head and his beautiful mother, I assumed them to be his sisters. Of course, beauty always runs family deep. Ugh, I was gonna be sick by the smiles and the good looks. The farther I got down the hall, the more I had to choke back the vomit. At the end of the hall a door, slightly ajar, in which the sounds of the piano where coming from. At the other end of the hall I could hear the TV coming from his moms bedroom. OF COURSE SHE WASN'T TIRED...total set up! Anywho, I push open the door, and walk into this room filled with this gorgeous black grand piano. A guitar, a violin, I think what to be a cello (I've never seen one in person, so only God knows), a few other instruments scattered around the room, in perfect place. What kind of person owns this type of stuff? Could this place be anymore perfect? Ugh, the vomit was rising in my throat again. Behind the piano, there he sat, all showered and in a clean white t shirt and lounge shorts. Okay, maybe I wasn't THAT mad at him anymore...just kinda mad at him. Who could be mad a man who can play the piano!? Who friggin' knew. Every time I see him he seems to get just that much more appealing to me...or not. So he plays a few songs for me, shows me his true talent, barf about to escape my mouth when we hear the horses making a commotion out in the stables.
He pulls me up with him. Puts on a pair of boots, and throws me one of his extra pairs. I'm not sure what world he lives in, but a size 14 mens boots are slightly hard to walk in for a girl who wear a size 10 and rarely even wears regular shoes!..and he was pretty much running. Whatever, I was pulling up the rear. By the time I caught up with him, he's in the stable and not really know what to do, I took a seat on a bail of hay in the corner, randomly texting people about how stupid I felt for being there. Whatever. The horse didn't look good. Not saying I know ANYTHING about ANYTHING when it comes to the creatures, cause I really don't, but she had labored breathing and you just tell by the look on her face that she wasn't a happy camper. She was attempted to lean on a post in the stable that wasn't really holding her weight, and it was causing the post to buckle. So Mr Guy I was still kinda mad at, had to get in there and change out a board or two, quickly and looking like he'd done this a million times, and with complete ease. Psh, whatever, I could do that anyday! Ha! I'm no stranger to a drill and some wood planks (I hope you call can hear the sarcasm in my voice). Realizing I didn't really know what to do, he took me to a small apartment looking thing about 100+ yards from the stables. Opened the door and turned on the lights to a cute, yet quaint, living space in which he referred to as his "man cave". Shut up! Equipped with everything a person could need to call a loft. Told me to make myself at home and he'd be back later.
At some point I fell asleep watching reruns of Law and Order on the couch, all curled up, freezing to death. He spent the night pretty much in the stable, coming in the check on me every so often. At one point he moved me to bed, where I slept like a ROCK! For those who are unaware, my sleeping patterns are ridiculous, and when I do sleep, I normally only sleep an hour or two. Next thing I know it's about 9 am and I'm brought my breakfast by Mr I'm Still Mad At, never had that before, so hell, I'll take breakfast in bed! Ha, I'll show you! We spend a few hours out with the horses and this time I have the courage to actually go up to the horse and say Hi! The horse took to me quick. Actually got up from laying down to greet me. It was kind of, I dunno, how do you...magical? She let me pet her, and brush her mane, even rested her head on my shoulder, nudging me with her nose a little. The sweetest creature I've ever met. As a girl, I had attempted horse camp, always have had a thing for horses, but have always still been slightly intimidated by them, but Sandy wasn't intimidating at all. She was beautiful, older, but still young at heart, you could tell by her playful attitude. Who knew that a horse could have so much personality. I was astonished!
A few hours passed, and I remembered I had to be back home for my guitar lesson...yeah, yeah, yeah...guitar lesson! As a teenage I thought it'd be some crazy rock star someday if I could just learn to play the guitar...so my parents got me one for Chirstmas one year. I never learned to play it. Now that I'm single, with a thousand hours of spare time on my hands every week, I needed something to distract me from the boredom. And I couldn't waste my money on a lesson, so I made Mean Face drive me back home to get my guitar and then take me to my lesson
...to be continued.
Thursday, May 10, 2012
DIE TROLL die....
Have I mentioned...my new neighbor looks like a troll? Not one of those trolls that sits on every old ladies table at the bingo hall, to bring them good luck, but a real live, lives under a bridge, hairy moles on his face, yellow teeth TROLL! ...if any of you happen to be a "living under a bridge" troll and you are reading this, I do, sincerely apologize for the harsh words, but this is my view of you. I own soap, and even have extra, non used tooth brushes that my dentist gives me every six months for my cleaning, in which stay wrapped up and never used, that you can have. You are more than welcome to come over and use my soap and shower to bath and hell, even my expensive, awesome sensitive teeth tooth paste, hell, I'll share, if it spares you the dirty looks and god awful smell. THAT'S A TRUE TROLL FRIEND!
why I will only take sleeping pills while alone.
I've been having a lot of trouble sleeping lately. Not sure why, be it stress or whatever, I've been extremely unsuccessful with even sleeping with myself (that was a joke by the way....).
Here's my horrible attempt at substance induced sleep...
As busy as some of my days are, and as lame as the rest, sometimes sleep really does do a body good, right?! Or so I thought... Last week, after a long had night (and morning) of rough tossing and turning, I finally drug my tired ass either off the couch, or out of bed, I can't remember, my nights and where I attempt to sleep is all one big blur. I got dressed, and attempted to ware myself out with some retail therapy, lunch, some extreme car washing and who knows whatever other crazy activities I could think of. Status post car wash the exhaustion started to hit me but I knew it wasn't going to happen once I laid down so while en route home I stopped at the local Walgreen's and got me a "HELP, I CAN'T SLEEP!" package thing. Some sort of every day, over the counter mind you, sleeping aide, meant for the every day person. Having never partaken in the drug induced sleep before, I figured, WHY THE HELL NOT! I had a friend coming over to see me in a few hours, I figured he'd check on me and make sure I'm still breathing at some point.
Having taken the pill, I changed into my comfy clothes, stripped my bed of the sheets and comforter, got through almost a load of laundry and then cuddled up on the couch.
<ENTER FEMALE FRIEND>
Hangs out on the couch with me, watching a movie. At some crazy point in the first half hour of the movie I'm dead passed out on the couch. Probably even drooling.
<EXIT FEMALE FRIEND>
An unknown time later, I awaken, look over. Female friend is gone. I get up. Thirstier than nobodies frigging business, I probably drank a gallon of water, sat back down on the couch, found another movie on Netflix and at some point, passed out again.
<ENTER MALE FRIEND>
Awoken from some ridiculous nightmare I hear a voice in the back ground of the dream...
"Sara....Sara....are you okay? Do you need anything?"
In a drug induced stooper, I shake my head no and latch on for dear life (I'm REALLY had with nightmares). Apparently I was a little kid being chased and well, when I woke up, I thought I was still a little kid again. Any who more water. Back to couch. He found some ridiculous sitcom that he enjoys while I drifted off into freakishly weird dreamland again.
<EXIT MALE FRIEND>
Not sure where he went or where I even was, for that matter, I searched high and low in my entire 850 square foot apartment, and no male friend to be found. ANYWHERE. More water. Made a phone call to female friend to see when she left, and if she had run into male friend. around 8pm, I believe she said and no. Wow. Ok.
Back to dreamland, on the couch (<--- this fact being imperative to know).
<ENTER MALE FRIEND> at some unknown point.
I awake.
A little lost at where I was for a second, cool air on my face, dark cool room...wait THAT'S A FAN! Some how I ended up in my bedroom. In a bed with sheets. Did I make the bed? Then I notice, my hair is wet...wait a second, did I take a shower? Pajamas too!? At this point I'm starting to freak out a little. Did I do all of this while asleep? ...and alone for that matter (not knowing male friend came back)!? What if I would have slipped and fell!? What if I would have DROWN!? Always to the extreme...I know!
I get up for more water and male friend is passed out, all comfortable like on the couch. I didn't want to wake him. So I get my water, head back into my room and start texting away. I believe at some point I pass out again.
In the either hours or so, that I was completely in this drug induced dreamland, I believe I could have been robbed, sold my brother to the slave market (probably willingly) and ran through the apartment complex naked at LEAST ten times...and I never would have known a thing! Woke up and just went upon my day. Good think I don't own a gun.
Come to find out, during the next morning and the day after of interrogation of the two friends, I have come to learn that next time I shouldn't let friends stay there when I decide to partake in such ridiculous activities...they leave you on the couch and run for their lives. Multiple times apparently! Also, upon their arrival, I cling to them like a baby bird to their mother (well, at least the one of the male gender) due to extreme fear of being chased, or falling off a bridge (in which I TOTALLY do not remember this dream, but told him all about it). I eat ravioli. Like nobodies business. I take showers (in which I wish I could relive because apparently it was a good one). AND I persuade male friends to tell me bed time stories of the child fashion.
I just have to say thank you to the those two who were there to not rob me, persuade me to sell my brother, and forced me to stay indoors while naked! And for those who are wondering, no, I did not make the bed, my male friend actually did. I don't even make my bed while I'm sober, forget doing it while drugged up!
Monday, May 7, 2012
there's something about baseball and the ocean...turns me on.
FUN IS KNOCKING ON THE SCREEN OF MY CELL PHONE and I shouldn't answer.
I have nothing tonight. I've started a many of new posts, but none seem to come to a finish. Too much going on in this over active imagination and a certain male seems to be very distracting, without even knowing it. dancing around in my thoughts tonight. I meant to post this a few months back. They've been waiting to be shared with the world, and I forgot to hit PUBLISH. Silly me.
Going through some old journals...some poetry I came across that I have written over the last year or so...enjoy....
< exert from a great memory that i have one replay in my mind but came across - memories make me smile to myself>
"there was no hesitation in his voice, eyes or even actions, strong and confident, as a man should be. he went in for the kill and nailed it with a 10! PERFECT 10! enough passion and strength to draw me and leave me craving all of it. the feel of his lips pressed onto mine - his tongue touching mine - his stubble scratching and tickling my face - his caressing my face - his breath in my ear and on my neck - his whispers and moans - those eyes! looking into mine, know exactly what they want, promising me every inch of him - but i couldn't give in. kind yet hard as stone, in more than one way. as hard as it is to agree upon something so unattached - the harder it is to follow these said rules. how can you give those lips up...my body screams for more. but wait...is that a tree?"
p.s. "men" scare the shit out of me. they know what they want and they don't let you in on their inner monologue...they go in for a kiss without giving you some long preamble about how they're thinking of kissing you. this man drives me crazy.
secret
adjacent to you, I yearn to be.
I strive to arrive
the the intersection of you and I
.....contingent upon an agreement
in which, no one has to know....
~~our lovely little secret~~
melt my icecaps with your body
...heat me and fill me to the core
my heart pounding, blood running hot
dream it true
....wish it reality.
search for me in your inception
turned on and delirious - lose me.
passion = you and i
tangled limbs, tattered clothes, bites and bruises
love me til the sun arises
can't let go, run the mind wild.
screams and moans
giggles and dancing eyes
heart me day and night
erotic and nasty.
focused and sweet
...til exhaustion we do part.
ashes
burn me with your flame.
douse me with no water.
leave me to smolder under your tormenting grasp.
your eyes dance with pleasure and passion as your
gaze it set, determined to win - to settle the score.
passion bleeds from my every last pore.
eat me with your smile.
touch me with your fist.
violent and eager I will wait.
reconcile my ashes and burn me oh so good again.
my slave(ry).
violent passion, make it hurt.
tempt me with the heat of your kisses. drink me with that mouth.
give and show me everything that is you.
entangled sheets, deep breaths, hot flesh.
eyes fluttered and bitten lips.
that body too hard to ignore - masculine, strong, inviting.
spun into a frenzy of pleasureful screams.
mind set on GO, yet stuck on every imaginative thought one could ever dream
i wish you here
do...
.....do not tease me with your smile or love me with thy tainted flesh.
grip my body with tenderness, yet bring me to justice with your lips.
bow to me and kiss thine eyes with your colorful ideas.
tempt me no more, for i will steal you.
your shall not escape me, stranger.
i always get what i want.
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
at a crossroads, with Linda!
I've really let myself go this time. Seriously. All the way down to wearing no make up, plumbers crack, and honestly?...I can't remember the last time I shaved my legs. I've sorta dug this small hole, climbed into it and hid myself from the world for the last few months. Apparently it's easier than facing it. Maybe I'll just change my name to Rainbow, move to the forest somewhere and live in a tree for the rest of my days? ...seems logical enough. Who needs hygiene when you can't even get a date!?
While I was away...I'm not too sure what really happened. The cats across the way still check on me daily, my crazy black neighbors still yell "YO BLONDIE!" from across the street, and the **bread truck down the way is STILL parked on the street where that thug kid left it! The sun still rises in the east and sets in the west (somedays at least), the Earth still orbits, and my mom still asks when she's getting grand babies. Other than those normal, every day activities, I don't remember much. Lots of work. Lots of nothing. Lots of boredom, I suppose. But I seem to have awoken to an entirely different outlook on life. One where "fuck it" seems to be coming out of my mouth a lot more these days...probably not the wisest choice when you're attempting to find that other half to add to your single member Costco Membership. You know those second person, free memberships, are hard to come by these days...or so the lady at the counter explained to me yesterday. Told me come back and see her and she'll put ANYONE on as my second person, no matter if we have the same address, or not. At least Linda, with the awkwardly shaped breasts, is routing for me! Told me it took her 4 marriages to find her "man", I need to not settle for the first man who comes around (too late!) and find me a good one, like she did! I never thought I would have such an in depth conversation with a lady who works the RETURNS / MEMBERSHIPS counter at my local Costco. It was like a counseling session while my mom returned a shirt that just so happened to be too tight and my step dad's wonder purchase of water shoes ("so I can wear them around the house" he says...). My mother agrees with Linda, but says I need to stop with the relationships I'm in, "learn form the past". HELLO MOM!? No dates = no relationships. At least she thinks I'm playing the field and have some sorta of "game", but being "friendzoned" by every male out there isn't really getting my anywhere! (BTW, Mom, if you're reading this, sorry, but didn't Linda have weird boobs?!).
Funny thing is I've still yet to be brave enough to jump from a perfectly good plane, or bungie jump from an extremely tall bridge, or punch a bull in the nuts (not really sure if people do that, but hell, it sounds dramatic and exciting!). Although, I have acquired a TON of make up (figure it's easier to cover it up than fix the problem), a vast amount of couch hours and multiple stalkers (yes, stalkers...as in....won't go away, always calling/texting/trying to come over/caught at my bedroom window stalkers).
I'm going to compose a list. A list of things that I want to do before I die. On that list will include the things listed above. Except a lot more in depth, and crazy activities, involving probably lots of $, in which I don't have, and hot men, in which do not surround me! My next post will be just my list. Feel free to add to it. We'll make it sorta like a bucket list...although not. Just crazy shit I'd like to do before I get old, not die. What do I consider old? I dunno........hip replacement age? Being that I was in a car accident in high school, where both of my hips were dislocated, and the Dr's already have broken the unfair news that it's going to be tough on my body to push out a baby someday, I'm guessing my hip replacement days are actually faster approaching than most.
All in all, I need some opinions on topics to write about. I've had so many compliments on my writing but I've recently run out of things to talk about. Me run out of words?! SAY WWHHHAAA!?! Maybe we should have an open forum for one blog? IS ANYONE EVEN REALLY READING THIS!? Anyone looking to be the other half of my Costco Membership? CURRENTLY ACCEPTING APPLICATIONS...I promise I'll put make up on and wear jeans.
While I was away...I'm not too sure what really happened. The cats across the way still check on me daily, my crazy black neighbors still yell "YO BLONDIE!" from across the street, and the **bread truck down the way is STILL parked on the street where that thug kid left it! The sun still rises in the east and sets in the west (somedays at least), the Earth still orbits, and my mom still asks when she's getting grand babies. Other than those normal, every day activities, I don't remember much. Lots of work. Lots of nothing. Lots of boredom, I suppose. But I seem to have awoken to an entirely different outlook on life. One where "fuck it" seems to be coming out of my mouth a lot more these days...probably not the wisest choice when you're attempting to find that other half to add to your single member Costco Membership. You know those second person, free memberships, are hard to come by these days...or so the lady at the counter explained to me yesterday. Told me come back and see her and she'll put ANYONE on as my second person, no matter if we have the same address, or not. At least Linda, with the awkwardly shaped breasts, is routing for me! Told me it took her 4 marriages to find her "man", I need to not settle for the first man who comes around (too late!) and find me a good one, like she did! I never thought I would have such an in depth conversation with a lady who works the RETURNS / MEMBERSHIPS counter at my local Costco. It was like a counseling session while my mom returned a shirt that just so happened to be too tight and my step dad's wonder purchase of water shoes ("so I can wear them around the house" he says...). My mother agrees with Linda, but says I need to stop with the relationships I'm in, "learn form the past". HELLO MOM!? No dates = no relationships. At least she thinks I'm playing the field and have some sorta of "game", but being "friendzoned" by every male out there isn't really getting my anywhere! (BTW, Mom, if you're reading this, sorry, but didn't Linda have weird boobs?!).
Funny thing is I've still yet to be brave enough to jump from a perfectly good plane, or bungie jump from an extremely tall bridge, or punch a bull in the nuts (not really sure if people do that, but hell, it sounds dramatic and exciting!). Although, I have acquired a TON of make up (figure it's easier to cover it up than fix the problem), a vast amount of couch hours and multiple stalkers (yes, stalkers...as in....won't go away, always calling/texting/trying to come over/caught at my bedroom window stalkers).
I'm going to compose a list. A list of things that I want to do before I die. On that list will include the things listed above. Except a lot more in depth, and crazy activities, involving probably lots of $, in which I don't have, and hot men, in which do not surround me! My next post will be just my list. Feel free to add to it. We'll make it sorta like a bucket list...although not. Just crazy shit I'd like to do before I get old, not die. What do I consider old? I dunno........hip replacement age? Being that I was in a car accident in high school, where both of my hips were dislocated, and the Dr's already have broken the unfair news that it's going to be tough on my body to push out a baby someday, I'm guessing my hip replacement days are actually faster approaching than most.
Monday, March 12, 2012
Unfortunate Misfortune
Pardon me, for my extreme laziness and neglect.
I've been traveling a lot. Not seeing much, but just making useful time of my vacation and days off. So many trips...where do I start.....we'll start with Vegas.
Oh me, oh my...what a wonderful city...Las Vegas. My family decided to take a trip for "Sara's Birthday," when in all reality I can say it was more for my mom and step dads pleasure. Along on this trip, I was accompanied by those two misfits, my aunt, my little sister (a whole 14 years of age) and my male cousin (an entire 15 years of age)...don't quote me on the ages...my memory ain't THAT good.
We drove. The gazillion miles it requires to drive to the wonderful city. I always vowed to never drive again...but this time I was too cheap to spend $200+ on a plane ticket...so in the Mini we go. Long....looooong....looooooooooooong drive. Hello Joshua Tree here...hello mound of dirt there. I said my hellos and good byes. I, again, have vowed never to drive this dreadful drive. Unless there is a gun pointed to my head, and even then, I think demise a better option.
We arrive. We were originally booked at The Palazo, but a few days prior to our departure, my step dad felt he needed to make an ever so brave political statement and cancel those reservations, to stay at the MGM (my home away from home...which you all should know by now). My step dad is a very Democratic man. One not to ever stray sides. Apparently the owner of The Palazo, whom is Republican, donated a bunch of money to the Republican campaign. Therefore, we can not support him. Psh, political view, schmalitical view...someday I will stay at that upscale hotel. With or without "Mr Holier Than Thou".
Back to the story...
We check in, have ourselves a wonderful first night. See "Phantom of the Opera", which I had been DYING to see since I was old enough to understand with the opera was. IT WAS AMAZING. No mishaps, no spills...everything went great. Met up with my family from southern California. Yes, that's right...it takes Vegas to reunite us. Forget the I5 and the SR99...Vegas is what'll do it. Nothing much really interesting happened between check in and the night before check out.
Skipping forward....HELLO LAST NIGHT! There I am. Bored. Extremely and utterly BORED. So, I decided to be brave and go try my hand at a slot or two (that was SLOT not SLUT...what dirty minds you people have!). I left the aunt and the cousin up in the room and wondered the vast casino floor. Casually strolling, waiting for a machine to call out to me....SARA....SAAAAAARRRRRAAAAA. Nothing. I hear a lady getting all excited as I walk passed. She turns, grabs me by the arm. "Sweetie! This machine is hitting big, and we've got to get going, or we're gonna miss our reservation. Sit here! Sit here!" So...I do. She was about elderly, as was her husband, sitting next to her at a machine in which he was not intending to play any time soon. I pulled out my wallet, remembering I only have the $100 bill my grandmother had given me as birthday money...that's when I realized it was one of those machines where you can change the amount of your bet. $1, $2, or $5...something ridiculous like that. So, in goes my last bill. $100 big ones. All in at once. I made a deal with myself...Spend $20, then move on. Meanwhile, Mrs Excited is still working on getting her husband out of the chair next to me. "Bad knees", is what I do recall him saying after the tragic event.
He attempts to stand once. Twice...even a third time. No luck. She's pulling him, attempting to rescue him from himself, and hurry him along, she was starting to get frustrated. He didn't seem like you're average "old man Fred" from down the block. He seemed like you're average "Hot Headed Joe" from the biker gang and the local Pub. Not one to be messed with. One his 4th attempt, his wife, whom I'm assuming was also pretty hard core by the look of the tattoos on her chest that popped out, along with almost half of her bosoms, he prevailed. As he's finally standing, up, erect, Mrs Excited yanked at the same time, causing Hot Headed Joe to kilter off balance. He put out a hand, to brace himself of course. And I'll be damned if my bad luck didn't set in at that exact moment in time. His hand, just so happened, to land on MAX BET button. $30. Down the hatch. No win. Nothing. A look of utter disgust floods my face as I'm getting ready to turn bright red and scream...that's when I realized, he doesn't seem the type to take anger in a positive manner. So, I change to a more gingerly tone, dancing around the confrontation. "Excuse me Sir, you're hand landed on my max bet button." His face fell. He seemed to be concerned. If he wasn't, he damn well faked it good. "Oh, I see, it did." He pulls out his wallet. He had $1. His wife had $2. Being that they were in a hurry, they didn't do any other checking. She shoved her cashout ticket in her pocket before I could see the amount. "We don't have the cash, Miss, I'm sorry. And we're going to be late for our reservation, there really isn't any way I can help you, except for to meet up with you later to repay you". At least his head was in the right spot! Not my normal luck, I usually only get an "oh well" and they move on....like the guy who ran into me in the hall way! Ass hole....back to Joe and Pearla (don't ask, I just like to call her Pearla, seems hard core and bitchy to me).
Joe: "Can I get your name and phone number? We'll give you a call as soon as we're out of our show and we can meet up and we'll bring you the money my hand spent".
I put my name and phone number in for him, cause he was having a hell of a time getting the contact information to take in his ancient beast of a phone. Just this way "559-416-**** SARA - THE GIRL WE OWE $30." Again, angry Joe expressed his apologies, then turned and hobbled off with Pearly who was already smoking another cigarette by the time they were 10 ft away.
There I sit. $30 poorer. It took every ounce of strength I had to not just burst out in laughter and tears. Run after them and follow them everywhere they went until I got my money back. I know $30 isn't really a lot of money to most, but to me, I was devastated. The single person income, at the end of the month, man, that $30 was crucial to my survival for that last week.
And this people...is my luck. I have yet to hear from Mr and Mrs Hot Head. I have yet to get my money back. $30 down the hole in .05 seconds flat. Gotta love Vegas.
I've been traveling a lot. Not seeing much, but just making useful time of my vacation and days off. So many trips...where do I start.....we'll start with Vegas.
Oh me, oh my...what a wonderful city...Las Vegas. My family decided to take a trip for "Sara's Birthday," when in all reality I can say it was more for my mom and step dads pleasure. Along on this trip, I was accompanied by those two misfits, my aunt, my little sister (a whole 14 years of age) and my male cousin (an entire 15 years of age)...don't quote me on the ages...my memory ain't THAT good.
We drove. The gazillion miles it requires to drive to the wonderful city. I always vowed to never drive again...but this time I was too cheap to spend $200+ on a plane ticket...so in the Mini we go. Long....looooong....looooooooooooong drive. Hello Joshua Tree here...hello mound of dirt there. I said my hellos and good byes. I, again, have vowed never to drive this dreadful drive. Unless there is a gun pointed to my head, and even then, I think demise a better option.
We arrive. We were originally booked at The Palazo, but a few days prior to our departure, my step dad felt he needed to make an ever so brave political statement and cancel those reservations, to stay at the MGM (my home away from home...which you all should know by now). My step dad is a very Democratic man. One not to ever stray sides. Apparently the owner of The Palazo, whom is Republican, donated a bunch of money to the Republican campaign. Therefore, we can not support him. Psh, political view, schmalitical view...someday I will stay at that upscale hotel. With or without "Mr Holier Than Thou".
Back to the story...
We check in, have ourselves a wonderful first night. See "Phantom of the Opera", which I had been DYING to see since I was old enough to understand with the opera was. IT WAS AMAZING. No mishaps, no spills...everything went great. Met up with my family from southern California. Yes, that's right...it takes Vegas to reunite us. Forget the I5 and the SR99...Vegas is what'll do it. Nothing much really interesting happened between check in and the night before check out.
Skipping forward....HELLO LAST NIGHT! There I am. Bored. Extremely and utterly BORED. So, I decided to be brave and go try my hand at a slot or two (that was SLOT not SLUT...what dirty minds you people have!). I left the aunt and the cousin up in the room and wondered the vast casino floor. Casually strolling, waiting for a machine to call out to me....SARA....SAAAAAARRRRRAAAAA. Nothing. I hear a lady getting all excited as I walk passed. She turns, grabs me by the arm. "Sweetie! This machine is hitting big, and we've got to get going, or we're gonna miss our reservation. Sit here! Sit here!" So...I do. She was about elderly, as was her husband, sitting next to her at a machine in which he was not intending to play any time soon. I pulled out my wallet, remembering I only have the $100 bill my grandmother had given me as birthday money...that's when I realized it was one of those machines where you can change the amount of your bet. $1, $2, or $5...something ridiculous like that. So, in goes my last bill. $100 big ones. All in at once. I made a deal with myself...Spend $20, then move on. Meanwhile, Mrs Excited is still working on getting her husband out of the chair next to me. "Bad knees", is what I do recall him saying after the tragic event.
He attempts to stand once. Twice...even a third time. No luck. She's pulling him, attempting to rescue him from himself, and hurry him along, she was starting to get frustrated. He didn't seem like you're average "old man Fred" from down the block. He seemed like you're average "Hot Headed Joe" from the biker gang and the local Pub. Not one to be messed with. One his 4th attempt, his wife, whom I'm assuming was also pretty hard core by the look of the tattoos on her chest that popped out, along with almost half of her bosoms, he prevailed. As he's finally standing, up, erect, Mrs Excited yanked at the same time, causing Hot Headed Joe to kilter off balance. He put out a hand, to brace himself of course. And I'll be damned if my bad luck didn't set in at that exact moment in time. His hand, just so happened, to land on MAX BET button. $30. Down the hatch. No win. Nothing. A look of utter disgust floods my face as I'm getting ready to turn bright red and scream...that's when I realized, he doesn't seem the type to take anger in a positive manner. So, I change to a more gingerly tone, dancing around the confrontation. "Excuse me Sir, you're hand landed on my max bet button." His face fell. He seemed to be concerned. If he wasn't, he damn well faked it good. "Oh, I see, it did." He pulls out his wallet. He had $1. His wife had $2. Being that they were in a hurry, they didn't do any other checking. She shoved her cashout ticket in her pocket before I could see the amount. "We don't have the cash, Miss, I'm sorry. And we're going to be late for our reservation, there really isn't any way I can help you, except for to meet up with you later to repay you". At least his head was in the right spot! Not my normal luck, I usually only get an "oh well" and they move on....like the guy who ran into me in the hall way! Ass hole....back to Joe and Pearla (don't ask, I just like to call her Pearla, seems hard core and bitchy to me).
Joe: "Can I get your name and phone number? We'll give you a call as soon as we're out of our show and we can meet up and we'll bring you the money my hand spent".
I put my name and phone number in for him, cause he was having a hell of a time getting the contact information to take in his ancient beast of a phone. Just this way "559-416-**** SARA - THE GIRL WE OWE $30." Again, angry Joe expressed his apologies, then turned and hobbled off with Pearly who was already smoking another cigarette by the time they were 10 ft away.
There I sit. $30 poorer. It took every ounce of strength I had to not just burst out in laughter and tears. Run after them and follow them everywhere they went until I got my money back. I know $30 isn't really a lot of money to most, but to me, I was devastated. The single person income, at the end of the month, man, that $30 was crucial to my survival for that last week.
Monday, January 23, 2012
Be the different. Beware; mushy.
Do you ever just sit back, look at your life and think "What could possibly happen next!?" Today has been one of those days. Shocking as all hell, it's been a day with multiple hours of sitting around, almost feeling sorry for myself. I can't quite say why, but crying seems to be the better option. I'm not really much of a crier either. In fact, I think it makes me seem kind of weak. Although, I never judge another for letting out their emotions when the time is granted. But as for myself? Crying normally isn't an option. Don't get me wrong, yes, I've had my slip ups. I've cried out of the blue. Hated myself and every minute of it...but it happened.
The last few months have been a very trying time on me. I've thought less about myself, and more about what everyone else wants, or needs in their life, than my own. I've even tried to mold myself into what I think someone else thinks I should be. Come to find out, I was wrong, WAY wrong. But it all leads to me wonder...
How does someone (aka myself) stop, put yourself first, and then live to be scrutinized for it daily? I do not judge you for the mere mistakes you have made, do not criticize mine. I will not sit back and let you beat down my spirit because you are unable to fix your own. I am content with who I am. Strong, independent, passionate and caring. You will never find another like me. I will forever be me. Passive, accepting as well as cultured.
It's taken me a long time, but I've finally realize who I want to be and where I want to go in life. Living alone and finding true friends who really care how I am feeling today, not just about what or who I'm doing. Although, they are VERY few and far between...GOOD PEOPLE STILL EXIST.
I can not change, to be what you want. I can not let you be my soul purpose in life, when you never really were. I haven't a friend, I haven't a colleague, I haven't a foe whom can't relate in some way as to what I am feeling right now. Yet, I'm perfectly content with my decisions. The roads and paths that I have taken have molded me into who I am today, and damn it - DEAL WITH IT!
For those who've forgotten me, due to this "separation" and have taken a "side" when no sides have ever existed...I pity you. Not for just being a horrible judge of character, but because you lost the one person in your life whom would never do what you did to you. I don't take sides. I don't judge. I don't exclude...until you have wronged me. It makes me sad the way that drama has begun to rule our worlds. It's as if we're all acting out for some reality TV show that isn't being made. If someone truly means something to you, then take the time, pick up the phone, dial their number or even just send a damn text message. Just to see how they're doing today. Fuck what other people are going to think. Fuck if someone doesn't like it. People will only tolerate so much flakiness. We're not all perfect, this I understand. Don't leave one wondering where they stand.
Be the change.
Selfishness and vanity need to become extinct. Fuck the drama. Fuck the vein. Stand up and be that one person everyone is proud to say they know. Start a passive way of live. Looking back on your actions, owning up to them and moving on. Is it really so hard? Are the words "I'm sorry" really that hard to say? As stubborn as I can be, I've said them. Even, when I knew I wasn't the one who really needed to.
The fight to be happy shouldn't be a fight, but merely a journey. Let that journey be easy. Smile.
It is better to conquer yourself than to win a thousand battles. Then the victory is yours. It cannot be taken from you, not by angels or by demons, heaven or hell.
-BUDDHA
The last few months have been a very trying time on me. I've thought less about myself, and more about what everyone else wants, or needs in their life, than my own. I've even tried to mold myself into what I think someone else thinks I should be. Come to find out, I was wrong, WAY wrong. But it all leads to me wonder...
How does someone (aka myself) stop, put yourself first, and then live to be scrutinized for it daily? I do not judge you for the mere mistakes you have made, do not criticize mine. I will not sit back and let you beat down my spirit because you are unable to fix your own. I am content with who I am. Strong, independent, passionate and caring. You will never find another like me. I will forever be me. Passive, accepting as well as cultured.
It's taken me a long time, but I've finally realize who I want to be and where I want to go in life. Living alone and finding true friends who really care how I am feeling today, not just about what or who I'm doing. Although, they are VERY few and far between...GOOD PEOPLE STILL EXIST.
I can not change, to be what you want. I can not let you be my soul purpose in life, when you never really were. I haven't a friend, I haven't a colleague, I haven't a foe whom can't relate in some way as to what I am feeling right now. Yet, I'm perfectly content with my decisions. The roads and paths that I have taken have molded me into who I am today, and damn it - DEAL WITH IT!
For those who've forgotten me, due to this "separation" and have taken a "side" when no sides have ever existed...I pity you. Not for just being a horrible judge of character, but because you lost the one person in your life whom would never do what you did to you. I don't take sides. I don't judge. I don't exclude...until you have wronged me. It makes me sad the way that drama has begun to rule our worlds. It's as if we're all acting out for some reality TV show that isn't being made. If someone truly means something to you, then take the time, pick up the phone, dial their number or even just send a damn text message. Just to see how they're doing today. Fuck what other people are going to think. Fuck if someone doesn't like it. People will only tolerate so much flakiness. We're not all perfect, this I understand. Don't leave one wondering where they stand.
Be the change.
Selfishness and vanity need to become extinct. Fuck the drama. Fuck the vein. Stand up and be that one person everyone is proud to say they know. Start a passive way of live. Looking back on your actions, owning up to them and moving on. Is it really so hard? Are the words "I'm sorry" really that hard to say? As stubborn as I can be, I've said them. Even, when I knew I wasn't the one who really needed to.
The fight to be happy shouldn't be a fight, but merely a journey. Let that journey be easy. Smile.
It is better to conquer yourself than to win a thousand battles. Then the victory is yours. It cannot be taken from you, not by angels or by demons, heaven or hell.
-BUDDHA
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