"You can't take a picture of this. It's already gone."

Thursday, February 28, 2013


Regardless of where I am or what is going on
this song speaks to me. I've heard this song for years and years of 
my life and I could sing them off the top of my head quite easily.
And I will never forget these words.

If there's a plane or a bus leaving Dallas
I hope you're on it
If there's a train moving fast down the tracks
I hope you caught it

Cause I swear out there ain't where you ought to be
So catch a ride, catch a cab
Don't you know I miss you bad
But don't you walk to me

Baby run, cut a path across the blue skies
Straight in a straight line
You can't get here fast enough

Find a truck and fire it up
Lean on the gas and off the clutch
Leave Dallas in the dust
I need you in a rush
So baby run

If you ain't got a suit case
Get a box or an old brown paper sack
And pack it light or pack it heavy
Take a truck, take a Chevy
Baby just come back

There's a shortcut to the highway out of town
Why don't you take it
Don't let that speed limit slow you down
Go on and break it

Baby run, cut a path across the blue skies
Straight in a straight line 
You can't get here fast enough

Find a truck and fire it up
Lean on the gas and off the clutch
Leave Dallas in the dust
I need you in a rush
So baby run

Baby run
Oh baby run
Baby run

Let's get a little mud on the tires

Something I thought last night
that show is noir as balls!

This is seriously only funny
because I am so tired
but because I am so very tired
in my head
it is so very funny.

Listening to Morbid Music in the Morning.


I wrote this in the car
twenty minutes before I walked in
because it was calming. I wrote it all by
hand, and I'm typing it up so I think it still counts. I may
write more. My day is looking up, but I can feel
my body arguing with me, because I stayed up
and emotionally, it has been pretty fucking

Oh redacted one,

You are definitely right about friendship-
as far as the components of it all go. I think
I do things backwards. I try to believe that someone
is my friend until they prove me wrong a few times.
Too fucking idealistic, now that that's written down, and more
than a little embarrassing to think about, of course.

I enjoyed speaking to you. I know it is awkward now and probably
will continue to be awkward for a while, but at least we have a good while of
stuff we don't know about each other, so we shouldn't run out of things to talk about for
a while. Or maybe we will. I have no idea. That is supposed to make me feel better.

I'm sitting here in front of Petsmart
I had about an hour of panic when I woke up at 5 this morning because
my stomach hurt and I was terrified. But I'm
sitting here and my stomach is settling somewhat. I was
up until one last night...or this morning. Hooray for
bad life choices!

But I was doing my calming music
and reading my books. I always get stuck on
Good Omens. Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman both
write in a way that fascinates me. I love any and all of the books they've
written. They can capture humor and satire and eerie horror so well.
Good Omens speaks to the Supernatural-lover in me, as well as the old
Roman Catholic from days of yore.

So I end up reading and re-reading their books, especially Good Omens
because the old gods comfort me more than the new gods ever did.
My handwriting has gotten dreadful over the last few years.
For shame!
But it is consistent now, which is nice from a far-off perspective.
To a certain degree.

And into the breach!

So say we all.


More later, probably.

Well, Kaylee?

What is my ideal job?

"You ever sail in a Firefly?"

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

Crappy Second Writing of the Day

In a roundabout way
I asked a question yesterday
and I'm laughing today because I realized
I know multiples of people
with the same fucking initials.
These aren't like easy ones either.
God my life is so fucking ridiculous
I have laughed so much today
Tumblr is so silly today
and so are Luke and Dan.
And so am I.

So now I'm listening to string quartet covers
of various songs
and let me tell you
Lady Gaga sounds a million times better
with a violin. So does Fall Out Boy. Unfortunately
nothing by the Goo Goo Dolls translates well
to these instruments. Which is unfortunate, once again,
because I like this music. Most musical music translates
rather well, however. Which is helpful. My Chemical Romance is
still up in the air.

She came over
and it was pleasant
because I have missed her forever
but my children make it difficult to interact for
longer than 2 minutes at a time
because they want all the attention.

Second interview tomorrow.
Kind of nervous, but mostly irritated because
it is so early.

When I say "I miss you
Did you miss me?"
He always says back to me
"Yes. Do you miss you?"
And there is always a contemplative silence
and I don't think he means for me to
ruminate on this thought for the rest of my
life, but it will always stick with me.
Do I miss me?


Good Morning

Good morning to the world
which has been pretty difficult today
and it is only the very beginning of the day.

I have a friend coming over
today. I have no idea what time she'll be here
or what we'll do, but hopefully she doesn't expect to much
because my house is not my house
and there is children's stuff everywhere.

I started a post last night that I'll probably
have to finish tonight or the night after, because it is one
of those things that only comes out when it is late
and I am tired or drunk or anything but staring into the bright
shining morning.

The idea of tomorrow is giving me a heart attack.
Between dentists and job interviews, I find myself
pretty terrified. This week has been too crazy and I can't see
the weekend being any better. There are over  600 books on my kindle
and I can't choose between them. So I read a few last night
and spent a few hours terrified out of my mind
because they were scary and it always takes me a good 12 hours
to get the horrors out of the front of my head.

They are gone, now, the ghosts and monsters of last night
they might be back but they probably won't
but just in case, I'll be careful when I drive at night.

In any case, until she gets here
if she gets here
(please get here)
I'll be listening to my music extra loud
and ignoring these dreadful feelings until something gets
and maybe pray
for the first time in a long time.

Tuesday, February 26, 2013

Posting today, and hopefully later when I have something better to say.

Today started with a fight
and a tummy ache.
And I cried after he left
because he was right
but I wasn't wrong
and it hurt.

And I'm still really really
and it is making my stomach hurt
like crazy

so what will I do with this day
you ask?
Talk to 'strangers' on the internet
who are more friends than strangers
and watch the kids
and feel cruddy in general
while listening to Les Miserables
on repeat

Or watch Shameless or Game of Thrones
or Six Feet Under. Something with lots of morbidity amongst
the humor.


Monday, February 25, 2013

Ouch my heart

Music by Joshua Radin
is the most melancholy of music
and every time I hear it
I feel my stomach start to hurt.
I love it and it is so raw and beautiful

I always forget that it seems to be specifically
designed to hurt me when I hear it
that there are corners of my heart that crumple into
themselves when I hear the voice
and the sounds
because even if all I have is beautiful
sometimes all I hear is
"I could lost myself in the rough
blue waters of your eyes and I
miss you still."

And then I have to put something else on
because ouch my heart

Sunday, February 24, 2013

Don't ever give your two year old twin boys
They turn into tiny war machines
of doom
scattering chaos and broken things
wherever they go
along with stuffed animals,
and their mothers sanity.

Thursday, February 21, 2013

This Goddess has doesn't have much gas in her car

He said something last night
that struck a chord with me
that when it was clean in the bathroom
than that was when he felt rich.
I get it.

Clean rooms feel rich
and dirty rooms feel like
no one cares and no one can
so I'm trying to keep things as neat as I can
look what I do
throw things away
wash clothes
put away dishes
because I want him to feel loved
i want him to feel rich

Because I feel rich when I have a full tank of
gas in my car
and that happens once every few months or so
and when my tank reads as full
I am the richest girl in the world.

Some days he makes me feel rich
when he takes off his hat and kisses me
I feel like a goddess
or when we just hang out and laugh
and watch a movie
and he makes me scream because I'm so terrified
and I tell him about the things I'm proud of
and the things that make me crazy
and he laughs with me.

Wednesday, February 20, 2013

I like it when people comment
it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy


I feel calm today
Yesterday was difficult but got 
a lot better with the help of my dad
and my husband.
I am calm
but my mouth and foot hurts
and there are no doctors in for a while.
And one of my friends' birthdays is on Saturday,
and that is good.  
The internet works 
and that is good. 
My husbands hours have changed
and that is frustrating 
because less time on the right side of the day
with my best friend is frustrating.
But my room is cleaner and
my head is clearer
and looking for a house is oh so hard
and applying for jobs is frustrating 
And I have over 600 books to read
and all of my stuff is boxed up
and that is good.
And I may reread Good Omens again
because I love the book
and re-watch Battlestar Galactica 
because all of my ROSLIN/ADAMA feels 
cannot be contained
and I'll watch the Fourth Kind with my
husband tonight
because who doesn't like being scared out of their 
minds by creepy demon-aliens?
I am here 

Tuesday, February 19, 2013

So learning to play guitar has been
Difficult, as my fingers go through the bruising
and skin loss and build callouses
but the chords and the notes are sticking in my head
and I am remembering more as I go. I am
able to listen to songs and identify the chords.
Learning how accompany singing is a little harder
simply because it is two different rhythms and getting them both
through my head together well
so I'm sticking to memorizing chords and seeing how they apply to the music
I know really well.

No one has called me about the job yet.
Grr. Argh.

Maybe now I will find a house.

Tuesday, February 12, 2013


I have an interview on Friday
for a job. One that I really, really 
want. A night job, with animals,
oh please oh please
be what I want
let me be what they want.
Because I love animals
and I can work the night shift
interview gods
let me do great.

Thursday, February 7, 2013


I have a soapbox
actually, I have multiple soapboxes.
what is a soapbox you ask
well, according to the free online dictionary
(thank you)
it is a thing that provides someone an opportunity to air their views
Like standing on a box
and airing your views publicly.
And I have multiple ones.

They go as follows

Cumulative traumatic encephalopathy
is one. Look up football and head injuries.
They can lead to dementia, radical mood and personality
changes and behavioral outbursts, all of which can lead to
elevated amounts of domestic violence, suicide and homicide.
I'm not a fan of football. By any stretch and as someone who has
been directly affected by someone with a head injury, I think
paying anyone substantial amounts of money for something so minor
is ridiculous.

Feminist soapbox. All that that entails. Inter sectional, pro-choice,

My LGBT soapbox. It is not that hard. Treat everyone well.
How is that so fucking hard?

And the Tangled soapbox.

Because "Mother knows best" can be a thing in real life.

Friday, February 1, 2013

Haunting me

The things I will never know about you
are why you loved me
and what your favorite movie is
and what you like to eat, because you always
let me choose.
I'll never know if you really loved her or if
she was just a distraction.
I know where your mother works
but not what she does
and I know nothing about your father
or your brothers or sister.
I don't know why you always made fun
of the music I love
Or what you wanted to do with your life
besides to please your parents
Or what you would have said if you had
ever met mine.
I never got to watch you stumble through
talking to my father
and helping my mother with the dishes
and never had you try to kiss me in front of the door where
we knew they were watching
I'll never know what it is like to go on out with you
at night
and not to be afraid.
And you'll never read the letters I wrote you
and I'll never know how you really felt about anything
I ever cared about
like religion or politics or feminism because we never bothered
talking about it.
All we ever seemed to do was break each other
and I'll never know why or how
or what was wrong with us.
But it haunts me sometimes.

Dear Anonymous

Two days ago, this is what happened.
Anonymous person on my tumblr: How could you let yourself go so much? Are you even trying to loose your baby weight?
My Answer: Wow. How brave of you to ask me that. Did it make you feel better? On another note, though, I’d probably be glad to answer your questions if you’d tell me who you are. Besides an asshole, of course.
This is what I wrote, afterwards:
Just a thought for the day after receiving my first piece of anonymous hate here on tumblr.
I am so sorry for everyone who has to deal with this bullshit. It does indeed hurt when random jackasses take the time and energy to write hurtful things. And on top of it, they are cowardly and weak for not telling you their names.
I don’t send things on anonymous. I believe in being accountable for the words you speak and write. It is why I am really careful with what I write and say to people. Have I made mistakes and fucked up badly? Of course I have. But I take responsibility and apologize.
So come off anon and say it to my face. Inasmuch as tumblr is, in any case. Maybe we can actually have a real-life conversation!
As a side note, being fat is not a bad thing. I’m not a bad person. Being fat does not equal bad. Being fat does not mean unhealthy either.
So, these are my thoughts.

Those were my thoughts at that point. It was two days ago.

Today, I am angry. Who are you, anonymous person, to question who I am and what I look like? Let myself go? Am I "even trying"? Here's the thing. I try every day. I try so fucking hard every day to get up out of bed and take care of my kids and feed everyone and on top of that fight huge amounts of depression and heartache. I have to schedule doctors appointments, make meals, plan outings, wash clothes, clean up messes and try not to swear like a sailor. 

I struggle, like many women, with my body image, but I'm not eighteen anymore. That body wasn't particularly well cared for either, I might add. I fucked up my body with a twin pregnancy and lack of exercise and a general lack of money and disregard for what I put in my body as well as a penchant for self loathing that manifests itself in myriad physical ways. I'm trying to change my lifestyle, a little at a time, but it is hard when you are trying to keep everyone's head above water. I am still working on loving myself. Some days I hate how I look. Most days I just tolerate it, because holy crap, I have so much else to worry about these days. Me being fat is truth. There is more fat on this body than there was 3 years ago. Some of that is my fault. Some of it isn't. I could work harder and diet more and lose all this weight. Some days I go for it. Some days I don't or can't. 

 I would assume that by saying this to me, you are trying to hurt me, and you would be correct. My love for myself isn't yet so great that it is not affected by what other people say to me. So congratulations, you have succeeded in what you wanted, which is to make me upset. Honestly, though, with me, it doesn't take much, so the reality is that you set that bar pretty low.

Some people are naturally gifted with the ability to juggle children. I'm not. It is a skill and a hard one to maintain and upkeep. Some days I enjoy it, others are I do not. I love my kids. They challenge me, excite me, make me love harder than I've ever loved. But I take my responsibilities to them seriously, which means some days all I can do is sleep at the end. 

But I am the same person I was. I have the same eyes. I love the same things. Fat or not, I am a decent person and at the end of the day, I am not making anonymous, hate-filled comments on the internet. I am myself. I am evolving and changing and gaining and losing and rising and falling. I am struggling and succeeding and failing. I am loving myself and hating myself and bettering myself even as I feel parts of me waste away. 

And anonymous, since I have a sneaking suspicion I may have known you in another life, I am sorry if and when I hurt you. There were and are deeply ugly parts of my life that even if I am open about, I am not proud of. I am sorry if I hurt you. Whoever you may be.