Forever the “Crazy Cat Lady”?

            I recently heard wonderful news that two dear friends of mine have decided to take the plunge and get engaged. I am incredibly happy for them (although I will never understand the whole idea of getting married before even having a clue how you plan to support yourself…this is none of my business of course). I am still very happy for them and thought maybe I will be able to say that I’ve been a bridesmaid…because I’ve never been one. The prospect of this left me feeling giddy, an emotion I don’t generally feel overwhelmed by. But, because there is always a but, I started to think about my own romantic relationships (really it’s a lack thereof).

                About a week ago my own mother happened to pull me aside and say that I have no real communication skills with the opposite sex. She told me that she had watched and noticed that I was incredibly kind to them, held a conversation well and never crossed any boundaries (which is exactly my problem) but I never showed any body language that showed I was interested in them. There have been plenty of times people decide to inform me that strangers are “checking me out”. I seem to be in a haze all the time and apparently have no idea what “checking” someone out is or knowing how to identify being checked out. I’ve been aware that I am a complete idiot in this regard but have no idea how to go about showing interest. I’m incredibly slow, it takes days before a light bulb goes on and I realize that guys even wanted to talk to me.

                So, my mom expressed great concern that I may never even get married. Dun, Dun, Dun…..I had at first laughed it off just like I laughed off my horrible Christmas break that seemed to be teeming with this very issue. Grandparents, my parents friends, and then even my own father bombarded me with comments that were supposed to encourage me to “keep looking”, “someone great is out there for you” and the like. I had never been worried or honestly even cared until we were driving back home after visiting the third relative that had mentioned something and then my own father chimed in with them (talk about embarrassing). I wanted to keep living and act as if it had never happened but I haven’t been able to. It haunts me that one day I’ll have accomplished all of these wonderful educational and career related goals and then have no one to “share” it with.

                This leads me into my awkward, backwards, stumbled upon, supposed flirting. It always seems like an act where I’m just waiting for someone to call cut because the stage lights are making me break out into a sweat. It’s never easy for me. I have no issues with myself; I just never know what to say to people. It seems to me like if I were to really try and turn the charm or sex appeal on people would just sputter and chuckle spitting all of their drink out like kids do. I honestly don’t think I would be able to keep a straight face as well. When friends began telling me that men were never aware of my liking them I started to take a new approach by just saying it (haha I’ve always been known for being blunt…mostly just because it’s easier than dancing around the subject) Yeah, that didn’t work either. For some reason just saying, “hey, I’m interested in you” or “hey, I like you” makes men run for the hills. (Shit if only those notes passed in first grade would work in the real world. I’m a huge fan of the note where you check if you want to be friends or date or what have you…kids are brilliant)

                So, I’m left wondering how or if I should attempt to even adapt or if somewhere along the line someone will just understand that I’m an idiot. At this point it looks as if I’m going to be a crazy cat lady for the rest of my life. Just keep your fingers crossed that I don’t become so insane that I start hurling my dozens of cats at people. (Oh, and I don’t actually have cats in case you’re wondering.)

So it goes...

         The last couple of days have been crazy and I don’t mean drinking, making out with strangers crazy. It’s been somewhat of an emotional rollercoaster (oh and the whole being incredibly sick the last couple of days didn’t help either).
             Well it all began when I was driving home from my fabulous vacation. I received a message from the very boy (I meant boy…the emotional immaturity is astounding) that inspired the “Big Red” post.  He out of the blue decided to text me and let me know how sorry he was for being such a dick and that he thought I was and I quote, “an exceptional woman”. (god I hate liars, especially when they lie just to puff the other person up when they only plan to tear them down….uhh waste of time much?) I told him all about how I had accepted an earlier apology that he had given me and that I had moved on…all of which is entirely true. Then I decided to ask him what had really happened between us, because unfortunately it is a part of my (epic fail of a) history.  Shockingly he had quite the insight and covered all the aspects of his immaturity and carelessness. Hmm wow I think a chimp could have picked up on that but none the less I’ll accept his sudden insight into himself. The only thing worth hearing was that he couldn’t handle that I had never believed him, which is entirely true. I challenged everything he said because I was sure it was a lie (a lot of it was but I never did give him any break either). I of course covered how he lived two separate lives and with someone that does that how could I believe anything.  We parted ways once again with me admitting my defeat in the whole situation because I got tired of trying to figure out who he really is, which I’m certain he is not aware of any way.
            Traveling right along, then I went to lunch with my brother and (Surprise!) my sister that I haven’t seen in a year and a half. The relationship between my sister and I is a rather tense, strained, etc. relationship that I broke off just like the previous tale. A year ago I confronted her (which is not my style because I’m the largest pansy on the planet) and told her about how I knew exactly what she was, a drug addict. I cut her out of my life just like the itchy, irritating tag on a brand new shirt. The worst part was I never and still don’t feel bad about it. She always envied and disliked me and I thought she was a ruthless, egocentric, barbarian of a sibling ……so it goes.
             I’ve had a very hard time even accepting she is my sibling after I had to pick up my destroyed parents, a job that should not but often is left on the next oldest child. The worst part of this whole ordeal was that while I went home and nursed my parents back to health I passed her everyday at my high school (because she worked there) not being acknowledged once. Bitch Please!
          Anyway, so here we are eating together in this nasty diner with her permanently infantized (that’s right I just made that word up, just roll with it) boyfriend and I’m struggling to find anything to talk to her about.  I felt like I had taken some random homeless person of the street and said, “Hey come in and have something to eat.” See but I wouldn’t have intense and deeply driven rage towards a homeless person so I’m sure that would have been easier.  I’m such a horrible person but as I swirled the fries around on my plate the only thing I could look at on her were her grotesque teeth and full on uni-brow.  I’m generally attempting humor when I blog but, (surprise!) here I’m not so hear me out. I had this rush of sadness that overwhelmed me for the rest of the evening. My sibling was falling apart before my very eyes. She looked pale, unkept, just like she were coming off a long run of being on something. The worst part was when she finally decided to get up from the table and expose what little is left of her. Bones jut out everywhere like the images of eating disorder victims that fill all of those documentaries they made you watch in high school. I felt like crying right there on the spot but still couldn’t embrace her because of a previous incident where she completely and publicly disowned my family.
              I know I should grow up and make good with her while it looks like she is still around (even if it may be a partially drug induced relationship) but it hit me while I looked at her she actually was happy exactly where she is at. Who am I to question or judge what makes her happy? The strongest feeling hit me came as we hugged, her jagged hips against my healthy frame, was that I had written her off not to be done with her because it was an annoying relationship rather I did it for myself. As selfish as it sounds I don’t want a “real” relationship with her because she’s on the fast track to dying. I also don’t want to jam a relationship down her throat when she hates me to begin with….although we all know that’s a cover up. I cut her off and will continue to cut her off because I already know that when she finally falls completely apart or dies I’ll be the one helping everyone else through it. Something I don’t entirely enjoy but handle well. I can’t let myself really love someone that I can already tell I’ll need to console everyone else over…..which I’m sure makes no sense to anyone so sorry about the blabbering.
            Any way it was an interesting last couple of days that had me wondering why it is that I find myself cutting people off to begin with. I also had a far deeper understanding of why I was drawn to the earlier mentioned male, it was an attempt to replicate but save someone from a similar life as my own sibling. Twisted I’m aware….both ended up being total failures on my part and do keep me up at night. I swear I didn’t sign on for this.

Bein’ a Bug

I’ve been gone for a while now thanks to a much needed vacation. Got some nice sight-seeing in and for the first time in a very long time I was able to sit back and let everyone else around me manage the logistics of getting from point A to point B. (wow that was a long, and rather dumb sentence) I stumbled upon a realization while traveling the great states though. It came to me while I stuffed my face full of potato chips and oreo cookies, pinned against the door of our ford. I’ve never really lived. I know that sounds stupid and maybe a little cliché to some, but honest I feel like my entire life I’ve just watched. The saying that you just want to “be a fly on the wall” when such and such happens or so and so meets the other so and so is how I’ve spent my life. Bizarre right? I thought so.

Everything I do (I do it big...hahah sorry I had to),  I imagine viewing it from one of those giant windows (as seen on tv) that opens into a room where people sit and watch surgeries take place. The people are generally all tense and anxious but can’t do anything about what is taking place in the actual surgery room…yup that’s my life. (Thanks a lot Grey’s Anatomy and my childhood watching ER for giving me that visual) I believe that’s why I completely avoid confrontation because I’m not even in there! I make

  each day a to-do list and accomplish all of those things and then have nothing. It’s entirely

possible that I have some pride tinkering inside my hollow shell, but other than that nothing.

                Some time ago I made a bucket list (hasn’t everyone since that movie came out?) and I didn’t do it to be all trendy and whatever cause I never even told anyone I had one….well until now. Anyway, one of the items on my list was to visit a psychic and over two years ago I fulfilled that. I was having a wonderful time having this terrifying woman eyeing me, her one eye completely askew while the other was trained on me like a sniper. She was telling me all these things that are entirely true about me and then she asked me who I was. I remember my blood pressure increased some, because honestly how do you answer that? I remained cool though and nonchalantly listed a bunch of my hobbies and what not. She quickly interrupted me and said, “You don’t know who you are, do you?” I stared blankly into her eyes…well sort of I stared at the one eye a while and then switched to the other (hell I didn’t know which one worked). Anyway, back to what I was trying to get at I still have no idea who I am and how to break the glass in that stupid room and come careening into my own life.

                I just have a feeling that most people know what they get up for in the morning and I have yet to really put my finger on what it is that drives me. I just know that I need to take a more active approach in my life instead of rolling over and letting people do and say what they want to me. Plus, I’m so quiet most people think I’m a bitch.  Honestly I don’t want to be a bitch or a bug. Is that too much to ask?

Big Red

            It had only been the second week of college and a beast known as ones first kiss continued to breathe down my neck. I walked the campus quietly searching for answers in each persons face. Was it odd that I had never even attempted to kiss someone? Was it unusual that it had never really crossed my mind until I had reached adulthood? And the sudden realization that everyone else around me had experienced it scared the shit out of me. These feelings could only be explained by the sudden feeling that someone was interested in me, and I knew that could only lead to one thing.

                I had initially met his friend while at a dance. I aggressively and suggestively danced with, what I later came to find out was a very recently returned missionary. Needless to say the very attractive one that I had danced with was not the one that really (as it seemed to me) fell for me. Although the story with this kid later becomes quite the entanglement in itself (of course for a later time). Anyway, my dance moves may have shocked the return missionary enough to fear me but certainly not enough to forget about me. I later was introduced to his friend that eagerly went everywhere with him. Almost like an odd but still funny side-kick. This side-kick was incredibly charming, but strange. The oddness actually became one of his best features along with his dazzling grill of front teeth.  Because I was a naïve little girl from a rather sheltered background (well except the whole my sister being on drugs all the time thing), when I continually ran into the man with the wonderful smile I began thinking that fate had brought us together (god just the thought makes me gag violently…I truly was an idiot).

               

                The story continues with texting and talking to each other often in the school’s campus lounge. Flirtatious banter filled the dingy room, strangling any possibility of actually studying. Then one night as I lay strewn across my friend’s nasty apartment carpet my phone lit up and shook fiercely. I quickly snatched the phone and flipped the cover open (yes because I had a piece of shit phone…laugh it up chuckles). The screen flashed with a new text message from, as he would later be known as “Douche Daniel”. The message said, “Hey, wanna make out?” The first thing to happen was that I tossed the phone a short distance from me while I thought. My emotions went wild. Shock, fear, anger, shock again, and then an odd sense of clarity. I had no real attachments to said individual in fact at the time I didn’t even really like him. Suddenly a plan took a hold of me that now I wish I had never conceived. Why could I not at least kiss this individual just to have it be said and done? My first kiss would be filed away like last year’s school pictures only to be brought out and looked at or remembered for a second.

                Long story short we met up in a school parking lot fifteen minutes later. I in my recently purchased F-250 truck and he on a small blue scooter he borrowed from a friend to cruise around town.  We anxiously chatted for sometime before he began speaking in Spanish ( a language I should know since I spent most of my childhood summers in Mexico, but of course only managed to learn to count to ten and ask where the bathroom was).  We eventually left each other without even touching. I was angry at his being such a pansy. Not two seconds later I received yet another text that said, “I really, really wanted to kiss you.” (And now queue the vomiting). I angrily wrote back, “Well I don’t live with regrets.” He of course took that as a challenge which then really had me frightened.  

                We were once again on for this kiss…I drove around frantically worrying what my breath smelled like and if I was going to get all sweaty because of the nerves. I cranked the AC and made a real quick stop into a Maverick where I purchased a large pack of Big Red gum. I demolished multiple pieces in hopes of that my entire mouth would have a coating of cinnamon that would wow and take away from my lack of experience.

                I drove to the location and parked like a sixteen year old that had never parked before, scurried to the tailgate of my truck where I laid it down and quickly hurled myself onto its rippled edge to sit and wait. While I was waiting I reviewed e-mails I had received using my shitty little phone, then I heard him approach, stop, and kill the engine. I continued to act completely engrossed in my phone as if I were studying for some insurmountable exam. He leapt onto a spot next to me, where I then explained that we were sitting on my truck (uhhh duh!). Before I knew what was happening he full on jammed his gargantuan, slimy, and forceful tongue into my mouth.  It was one of the worst experiences of my life; I later learned using other males instead of this idiot that he was to blame not me. In fact I’m complimented often on my amazing technique which only makes me blush and laugh coyly.

                As his tongue continued to do somersaults and back hand springs along my hard palate, I caught myself thinking how awful it really was but how wonderful the cinnamon tasted. Odd, I know. I remember driving off that night hopelessly confused as to how that was any fun. I swore I was going to gag at any moment during the process. I should have taken this experience and ran with it, far, far, away from him but of course I spent my freshman year and even some of my sophomore year over thinking each conversation and of course this night until I swore I had every moment we ever had together memorized. I was strung along by him for a long time even though I knew deep down he was never anything I was honestly interested in, it just seemed like the normal thing to do.

                I later found out he was far more bizarre then I had ever given him credit for and actually quite dangerous. He’s currently on a ton of drugs and still finds reasons to approach me while on campus when really I just want to act like we never met. Maybe some other time I’ll take a moment to detail the terrible things he did and how I just kept going back like one of those battered women I said I would never be. But, honestly after lamenting this memory and him I’m rather bored. I just needed to tell this tale to get it off my chest.

                In short, my first kiss did not teach me how to kiss, it did not lead to some wonderfully romantic relationship filled with fun and respect, and it didn’t get me any closer to feeling more like an adult. Rather, my first kiss reminded me to begin picking up Big Red gum at the convenience stores once in awhile. That shit is awesome.

Skin Upon Skin

Skin upon skin,

The smell of temptation,

Cringe of an all too new sensation,

Worries bombard,

As lips unite,

Dark enrapturing each,

Bodies become moist,

Hairs quietly rise along the nape of a neck,

The glow of a distant television trickling soft pulsing light,

Fingers delicately tracing,

Outlines of an earlier time,

Differences in pigments only known to the light,

Animalistic behaviors take harness,

Licking, teasing, biting,

Hands grasping at flesh,

Acceptance,

A tongue glides teasingly along the delicate ridge of an ear,

Calloused hand tenderly, gingerly seeks further,

A rhythm begins,

Each enveloping the others body as if it were their own,

And then without warning the energy fades,

An eery silence is all that remains,

Two strangers dress quietly in the dark,

The woman questioning if there is something more,

The man trying to escape,

Lies are exchanged with no one sane there to document,

Two strangers that will pass each other often,

Each knowing the bend and curvature of the other,

The locations that encounter grand sensation,

The only words to be remembered a lie,

Whispered in the dark,

An energy which dies in the light,

A word never passes lips,

Each carries on,

The previous venture seen only as a dream,

The scars that emblazon one,

 Few have seen,

But this stranger got the chance to see,

When skin was upon skin.

Feeling an Inner Peace Only Doing NOTHING All Day Could Bring :D

Spent the entire day accomplishing a whole bunch of nothin'. I spent most of the day reading a book about surviving my twenties since this age I seem to be struggling with. So much overwhelming pressure to become something is just about enough to make me pull my hair out! It actually provided me with one thing (I'm not finished with the book so hopefully I gain more then this nugget of knowledge), it provided me with this whole idea of taking a moment to relax and quit over thinking things. I am the master of overthinking things. I've spent this whole year asking myself exactly why I'm doing what I'm doing, where I'm going, and if I really think this path I'm on is right. There are many times I'm enjoying myself and then catch this creeping feeling that keeps saying, " whoa! What are you doing? Why are you here?" I'm in no way shape or form religious either so these questions were not going to be answered with the use of any historical text. ANY WAY, this book basically has told me to relax and take some time to smell the roses......wow and how much did I spend on this book? I swear my parents and grandparents have said that fifteen times.

Once again I've found another day that the obvious parts of life I seem to skim over until months later they smack me in the face. Hahahah wow what a great life!

Cleaning Out the Ass Holes in Ones Life

I had a complete realization today that sometimes people just are no good for you. I've somehow managed to loose my cell phone between the seats of the ol' gas guzzler and honestly I haven't really put in a real effort to find it. The last 48 hours have been the best I've had in quite sometime. Tons of time to reflect and read awesome books! (something I generally never take part in...cause I'm an idiot lol) But, it has also given me the time to realize what a complete waste of time facebook is, specifically the part where you remain friends with people that have completely taken a shit on you. I'm not sure if deleting them makes you feel like you have failed and said yes I finally publicly admit that I dislike you immensely or what, but it isn't healthy. Neither is the whole clicking through thousands of images of people you don't really know or don't care about. Your eyes glazing over wondering why your own personal life isn't as exciting as they seem to make theirs look like. Hmm....I just started to say to myself there is a reason why I love and I mean love my life but don't feel like taking a zillion photos to prove it to others. (maybe I'm odd? or maybe I just want to have a little privacy in my life?)

Any way, now I've gotten completely off subject. Basically, what I'm saying is keep those that are close to you and honestly care about you close. Share your life with them and kindly smile and delete (electronically and in a physical/emotional way)  those that seem to always shit on you. I can find dozens of people that just use and abuse....kind of  leaves ya wondering if genetics has so kindly weeded out the people with a soul only leaving those not afraid to climb on top of and whisper lies to others to get to the top. Well maybe they are the fittest and deserve to live since they are designed to only care about themselves. Sad day :(

Blogging about an Ordinary boring ass life just like your own...enjoy

So here I am in my second year of college wondering wtf I am doing. I already have my associates because as a high school student I decided to be an overachieving idiot....emphasis on idiot and now here I am hating every minute of college. Its a never ending battle of trying to reach the top, hmm sounds a bit like high school aye? Accept many of the high school jocks, sluts and overall popular girls are married, balding, or a combination of both. Hello Rogaine!

With every passing day I get up and try to remind myself why I'm doing what I'm even doing (dear god don't let me work at taco bell like the other failures from my high school class). And yet, you may say oh how sad she just hasn't tried to fit in. That my dear friend is bullshit. I've joined tons of campus clubs (all lack any organization at all and they generally begin with an enthusiastic leader who brings donuts to one well planned event and then never follows through again), I've attempted a run at campus government positions yeah got screwed over in that department....although not literally, and even took a run at being one of those people that give campus tours of their beautiful and loved campus (oh, right maybe in the interview they felt how much I hate the place and fall asleep hoping that when I return the next day something odd like all the chairs are gone, imagine the mass chaos. Fully educated people in a panic over missing chairs)

So, lest I continue to achieve some ill concieved dream that a final exam and an extensive interview process may never even let me be a part of. To think people actually regard me as smart...pfff if only they knew. Well thats as much as I have to say, don't even get me started on how much I'm beginning to hate people.