Catching Up...

With some old friends from high school can be quite illuminating.  Brilliantly so.

Last night, I had the benefit of comparing the attention-seeking behavior of a certain person with someone I hadn't talked to since graduation.  We ended up in a discussion because of some rumors  that were told about me way back in the day.  Not really surprised... not after the crap I've put up with.  And the moodiness, and the excuses I told myself time and time again when I felt like I was being shit on and my feelings were being played like a goddamned instrument.

And I'm very happy to say, I wasn't wrong with my assessment of this particular person.  As-a-matter-of-fact, their personality hasn't changed since junior high... now, there is just a thin veneer of humility that they've slapped on.  When that rubs off... just say "hello" to the asshole.  I don't feel bad about giving someone another chance... what I feel horrible about is the fact that my gut instinct told me that there was NO WAY that someone could change THAT MUCH.  And for fuck's sake... was I right.

I finally get free of this toxic shit and guess what???  This person keeps popping up in small corners of my life.  The rants about not having relationships and whatever??  The inappropriate behavior and temper tantrums??  Keeping up the emotional merry-go-round and drama around every turn??  The inability to act like an adult and fuck off properly??

Sigh.  I can't see it happening.  Obsessive-compulsive people never. ever. stop.

Let's Talk "Adventure"...

Shall we???

Someone once told me that I shouldn't feel upset about leaving a place that I loved... that I should look at moving to a new place as an "adventure".  Having moved around the world (literally) and knowing that when I move it's always a *new start*, I don't really look forward to moving.  Just the logistics are a pain-in-the-ass... not to mention a lack of friends and having absolutely no support system.

Let me tell you about my little "adventure" that started yesterday morning.  I took the hubs to the airport because he's going to be gone for a good part of this month (August).  On my way home, I decided to stop at the brand new Subway and pick up a turkey sub (added bacon, no lettuce, no mayo, just a lot of veg and light on the oil and vinegar).  I took the foot-long home and ate half, wrapping the other half up for later that evening.

About two hours later (around 3:00 PM or so), my stomach starts to feel crampy.  I bolt for the bathroom and blow chunks - all of the sandwich that I just ate.  ZOMG.  It's wretched.  And I keep vomiting.  I throw up until there's nothing left but bile.  And I keep throwing up.  I can't drive to the ER because I'm running a fever and can't stop dry-heaving and shaking.  My husband is not here and I realize that I don't know a fucking soul except for my real estate agent.  She's got three kids - I can't call her to drive me to the ER.  There's no cabs that run this late.  If I want to go to the ER, well... I'm going to have to call an ambulance.

So... I call the RN-Emergency nurse that comes with my health care provider.  She and I go through everything (with my dry-heaving every two minutes or so - really pleasant conversation!!) that I ate and what kind of food poisoning that I might have... and she introduced me to staphylococcus aureus.  Meat that is not left cold enough, or cross-contaminated with eggs or bad mayo.  Vomiting and symptoms last for 24 - 72 hours.  Yeah, it's a winner.  Luckily, after throwing up for well over 20 hours, I'm able to keep water and popsicles down - without throwing up (right now).  And I'm not done with it yet - I may have to still go to the hospital.  Luckily, my realtor is willing to take me late this afternoon if I keep barfing.

I want to say "thank you" to my friends who kept checking on me (the husband is working in a white noise environment and has had his cell phone locked up, so no calling him) and making sure that I was okay, even if they were hundreds of miles away.  Thanks to the nurse that I spoke with and the kind people at the Health Department.  Luckily, I'm in good health so I probably won't have to deal with this much longer - and fingers crossed that I won't have to go to the ER.

I also want to say a bright and lively "FUCK YOU" to the asshole* who wouldn't listen to me when I was trying to explain about having a SUPPORT SYSTEM after I moved.  That this is not so much an "adventure" as a lifestyle change and that I would be on my own (literally and figuratively).  If I had ended up with a different form of food poisoning, it could've been much, much worse.  And what makes me want to throw up (just on principle) is that there is not one person that I could've called to take care of my dog.  Take your "adventure" and shove it straight up your smug ass - because if you think this shit is fun, you're fucking delusional.

*Why don't I have any friends??  Why can't I keep them??  

How about shit like this???  And, no, I'm not going to apologize.

You know who you are.

Decisions. Damsel Without A Dress.

This week has been crazy thus far.  Not in a bad way... just full of weird possibilities and interesting things that are currently happening and will be happening.  It's a lot to digest, really.

So... I want an Audi.  I've wanted one forever, really.  Husby says I can get one... but I've got to get a job and buy it outright.  So, most of the weekend, I spent on the interwebz driving myself fucking cray-cray looking for employment (can anyone tell me why most companies want a comprehensive resumé yet still make you fill out an ENTIRE JOB APPLICATION on line??) - it boggles the mind.  Seriously.  I guess that's neither here nor there, because I managed to get not one, but two interviews for tomorrow.  Hopefully, they'll both go well and fight over my brilliant personality (hardy-har-har-har!!).  Anyhow, for those of you that care, send me good vibes.

For those of you that hate-read, go do something productive.  Like harass someone else or try and make other friends.

Yeah, I just wrote that.

And then the wedding.  I fucking forgot to put my order in online and guess what??  "It's fucked to the moon, Alice!!".  Tomorrow morning I've got to get the two dresses, cool bathing suit, and funky shirt sent out ASAP (to the additional shipping tune of $24.95.  From New Jersey.  Of all places.  Which means... using the telephone.  I'm trying to avoid the phone because I have a feeling that my new job is going to have a LOT to do with telephones.  And people with demands.  Oh, well.  Do I want my Audi??  Yes.

It's too late to be up and the place where I had my biopsy done is itching like mad.  But from the inside, you know??  So it's healing.  I think I'm going to take a pain pill and then play some kind of word game on my iPhone (it always fucks me up, because sometimes I still think in German or French and then get pissed at the AMERICAN game.  SMDH.)

It'll be a make-up day for sure.  Either that or I'll look like Guy Smiley from the Muppet Show freaking out on four days of meth.  Fun!!  x0x0

Cha-Cha-Changes.

David Bowie was spot-on.

Changes happen.  Oh, fuck, do they happen.  And we all roll with the punches of life, don't we??  Dealing with a mortgage, rent, utilities, work, and extra-curricular activities are absolutes.  If you don't pay your utilities, they will be shut off.  Everyone deals with the same issues and makes a change if necessary.  Don't have enough gas money each month??  Might have to switch priorities - the additional cell phone has to go OR the dining out once a week has to be canceled.  That's something every adult member of society (for the most part) can understand.  But the big question I have is:  why can't we admit to (or even consider) changing our minds???

Thoughts, ideas, theology, politics, hypotheses - these things are not solid.  They are fluid and malleable.  They can all be changed.  It can be a large thing that happens; an agnostic has a near-death experience and decides to find a religion that works... or it can be a small thing; you're given a hand-up and you decide to pay it forward.  Either way, your perspective has changed and you've decided to do something a little differently -regardless as to whether your conscious mind knows it or not.

Then why, oh why do people try and push their religious agenda on their fellow human beings by using the secular legal system?? Why can't we have an open dialogue, listen to the other side, and maybe - just maybe - change our way of thinking??  Or at the minimum, accept that another person CAN have a viewpoint that differs from your own??  Because it's fucking scary, that's why.  We've become a nation that believes "changing our mind" means "flip-flopping" (thanks to political pundits and our sorry educational system, a stunningly large portion of people believe everything that happens on the bullshit box - AKA "television") and that the concept of "flip flopping" is baaaaaaaaaad.  Really??

Confession:  I *am* a "flip-flopper".  Oh, the shame.  The humanity!!

Yes, I am an opinionated person.  Yet, if I'm having an educated (civil) discussion about a topic and find out that I didn't know as much as I thought I did... if I was dead-on wrong about the subject??  I'd end up going home, mull things over, find various articles, read about the subject (preferably from both viewpoints), and will more than likely discuss the topic with other friends.  You know, gain a new perspective and all that shit??  Yep.  And guess what?  It's about a 50-50 chance that I might change my bloody mind.  That's right, Internet.  I said it.

Luckily, I have friends who are very diverse and who are also very accepting of my choices... I am, after all, an out-of-the-closet atheist.  Oh, and a liberal.  And a Massachusetts Yankee (living in the Bible Belt).  And a hedonist (by nature).  And I'm also child-free-by-choice.  I don't hide what I am.

So... do you feel like getting together?? Maybe having a couple of cocktails and talking about something interesting??  I'm in - if you are.

Rational dialogue for the win.

A WTF Funk.

I am in a funk.  There's no reason for me to feel like this.  You know, first-world problems and all that happy horse shit.  But my brain doesn't ever just shut down - not even enough to get a good night's sleep without medication.  I'm not OCD or ADD or ADHD.  I haven't been diagnosed with any weird mental disease.  I'm not Off My Rocker.  My body simply doesn't provide enough of the chemicals that I need in order to relax or simply zone out and quit thinking.  

Which can be Very Frustrating at times.  Tonight happens to be one of Those Times.  

Sometimes I think in a constant loop.  Just like that shitty movie "Groundhog Day" (fuck, I hated that movie with a passion - it made me want to throat-punch Bill Murray) - the same thoughts keep happening over and over without any change.  Or I tend to look back and think of the mistakes I've made or certain choices I've made and I want things to be different.  Then it bothers me because I feel like I'm trying to lose myself or change an intrinsic part of my personality.  Other things make me angry and frustrated and I don't know how to fix them - or even if I want them to be fixed (which usually has a lot to do with my family).  Speaking of family...

I wonder if anyone in my immediate family ever thinks about me or just how broken we all are.  Somehow, I doubt it.  Dysfunction has turned into normal and it's accepted and I am the same as I've always been; an outlier.  How is it that I've felt this way for most of my life???  Despite the soul-searching and positive reinforcement given to me regarding certain choices that I've made, I still feel like I've fucked up or am utterly lacking in so many areas.

Why can't I just take a pill and assimilate into pop culture and be a vapid little lollipop girl???  It would be so. very. easy.  To never think about politics or religion or social issues.  To not-care about basic human rights.  To ditty-bop along and not worry about whether or not I'll have reproductive rights or even the ability to choose if I'd like to keep a pregnancy or not.  Why can't my whole life revolve around getting the newest Chanel perfume, Jimmy Choos, or wearing the latest haute couture???  Sometimes I envy those type of people.  They never seem to think.

Yet, I can't stop thinking.  WTF??

I Want This. WTF??? Big Lebowski Fail.

And it's unavailable right now.  I can hardly type because the tears are just rolling down my face.  Bastages!!  So, here is my letter:

Mrs Juggsy B
A Street
NOLA, LA

January 10, 2015

414 Baxter Avenue
Louisville, KY

Dear Sirs*,

For months I have been wanting to yell at you to TAKE MY FUCKING MONEY already so that I can order this shirt you have FEATURED on your Lebowski Fest Website.  Just in case you don't know what tee-shirt is out of stock, please - let me post some pictures of it:

This is what it says on the front, dim bulbs.

And this is what it says in the back.

I simply demand a re-supply of these beauties.  ASAP.  Don't make me call Boyd Crowder and have him take over your raggedy-ass business.  Because I know people who know people who know OTHER people.  This outcome would not be in your favor.

With Highest Personal Regards,

Juggsy

*(yes, I'm sure that if your organization is represented 'correctly' the salutation must be Sirs)

Pet Peeves. "Mrs StuckInSchool".

DISCLAIMER:  Lengthy Post.

Oh, social media.  I have such a love-hate relationship with you.  On one hand, I have "friends" on my Facebook that are only there because... well, I'm nosy and quite a few of them are complete and utter train-wrecks.  I mean, no one actually likes a train-wreck - but it's one of those dirty little things that you just can't help but watch.  Let's be honest... there is a whole CATEGORY of people who I just don't un-friend simply because there's almost always some kind of screwy drama going on in their life.  Some of the cray-cray they freely and regularly post is downright titillating.

And then there are the other "friends" - those who are not necessarily in the smash-crash category, yet they are just assholes in their own right.  The posts where you'll do a double-take and think "where in the jolly FUCK did THAT just come from?"

Pet Peeve Numero Uno

The fact is, unless you talk to someone on a regular basis (whether it by by messenger, text, telephone, email, etc...), most people on FB are not really your *friends* (per se).  They are acquaintances.  Big huge difference.  I might "like" a status every so often, but I don't actually interact with most of the (close to) 300 "friends" on my Facebook.  I find myself interacting with the same real friends every day.  The others??  I don't really care.  They are usually there for my amusement and I'll un-friend if they bore me.  

They are not FRIENDS.  They are acquaintances.  Learn the difference.

However...

Pet Peeve Numero Dos

Then there are the "Mrs StuckInSchool"** [women] who write statuses about drinking games and previously "being fat" - you know the type.  They hit their pinnacle, their prime, their best, before reaching the ancient age of 21.  They are the people who would go back in time JUST BECAUSE their experience in the public education penitentiary was just *the best*.  Usually, they were the über-popular preppy or sports-lettered douche-bags that almost everyone else despised.  Back in the day, they were bullies and usually quite unpleasant to those not in their clique.  

Well, they haven't changed.  Posting a picture of a piece of cheesecake with the idiotic hashtag of "foreverthefatgirl" (heads-up, peeps - that twat was never fat - and she wouldn't have wanted to go back to high school had she been) AND "thisiswhyicrossfit" (well, duh - we ALL KNOW you *crossfit* because you post your fucking exercise list on Facebook or Instagram EVERY day) just screams "Attention Whore!".  Nothing more, nothing less.  Oh, and it makes me think less of these "ladies" than I did before, if that is even possible. 

Oh, and let's not forget about posting all the beer-pong and drinking games you do at almost-forty.  It's pathetic and goes to show that some people never evolve.

PS...  I hid "Mrs StuckInSchool" from my newsfeed today because I wanted to hand her a steaming pile of sarcasm on a shit platter.  Being the upstanding adult I am, I vented to two of my best friends (one who talked me down - thank you!!) and so I didn't write anything nasty.  

Pet Peeve Numero Tres

Sometimes being an adult about things simply blows dead donkey dick.  Please see *Pet Peeve Numero Dos* for just one of the reasons (minus bills, car insurance, and long-term planning for expensive things) as to why being a grown-up can suck.

Pet Peeve Numero Cuatro

Passive-aggressive people.  It's one thing to be Politically Correct at times and it's also another thing to simply keep your trap shut if you know that you absolutely cannot say something nice.  I'm an atheist, but that doesn't mean that whenever an acquaintance (who may be religious) posts something god-tastic on their wall, I should then reply with a litany of why *I* think their religion sucks.  Which is why I find it so shitty when I write something or post an article about atheism and a religious person feels compelled to tell me that I need Jesus or Allah or L. Ron Hubbard.  Really????  

And it's almost always done in that sick, syrup-y sweet passive-aggressive fashion that I can't respond to unless I want to look like an absolute and utter bitch.  Because these people have made an art out of appearing like they actually care - and therefore, I'm supposed to thank them for underhandedly insulting me.  

Just give me the same consideration and keep your snarky little comments off my wall, mmmmmmmkay???

Pet Peeve Numero Cinco

The inconsiderate hippie bastards who live upstairs.  I'm tired of their shitty music, on a weeknight, when someone in this house has to get up at 5:30 AM to go to work.  I get that they are on a different "work" (which I'm really not sure that either one of them do steadily) schedule, but a little fucking consideration would go a long way.  

I will remedy this, however.  Tomorrow morning, I will be sure to play my music extremely loud around 8:00 AM.  This usually makes them think before playing recorders, tambourines, and bad Bob Dylan music until all hours (happens about once a week).  I'm thinking that some speed metal will hit the spot.  For me, at least.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So...  I could probably go on for a while more - but quite honestly, I think that this is enough for today.  Being negative is really not really productive, but ranting about what makes me crazy and getting it off my chest is very therapeutic.  

**Special thanks to TD - for the term "Mrs StuckInSchool".  You are so spot-on with that.