Why is it called pride if I’m not proud of it?

So… I can’t decide which is harder: admitting that I miss Blog Crush or that I miss phones with buttons.

Do you remember Blog Crush? I never really wrote much about him, but I mentioned him a lot toward the end of last year. I don’t even have any posts worth linking back to. Boo to the urns. Well anyway, I miss him. I don’t miss the crush, but I miss the fun and random conversations, our shared love for all things Beatles, and the most ridiculous emails you’ll ever read. Of course, after the whole “my heart needs time” thing, I’m feeling a bit sheepish about writing or calling. I’m too proud. Damn you pride. I guess I should probably stop referring to him as Blog Crush before I reach out, eh?

Yeah, I miss the conversation. Also, that phone seriously looks like guts.

And while I’m at it, I love my iPhone. If you ever lose me, just look for the iPhone because my hand will be attached to it. With that said, I miss buttons! I miss pushing them down and hearing the soft “tick tick tick” that comes along with them. The iPhone has a sound effect, but it’s annoying so I turned it off. Stupid button-less phone!

… Don’t tell it I said that.

 

I’m drawing on my iPad tonight. I can’t wait until I get one of those fancy-pants stylus things so my fat fingers don’t destroy my stick-figure face. I like drawing on the iPad much better than with Paint — thank you Adobe Ideas!

Wait. Is it bad that I just sort of compared missing a person to missing a phone?

My Inner Gangsta

Things I like:
- Pineapples
- Bow ties
- Jokes on popsicle sticks
- The words “jejunum” and “duodenum”
- Mark Ruffalo
- Hand-written letters and cards that say hello

Things I don’t like:
- The cost of airfare to Chicago
- Jersey Shore
- Earthquakes
- Headaches
- WordPress thinking I spelled WordPress incorrectly
- Stupid boys

Things that bring out my inner gangsta:
- Burritos that lack guacamole
- Cats that wake me up between 1 and 7:30 a.m.
- When people call me big poppa
- People who invade my personal bubble and stand inches away from me while I’m in line

 

The Good Stuff

Lately I’ve been focusing on a lot of negative, and I hate when I turn into a gloomy Gus (yes, I’m six). The last few weeks have had a lot of downs, but there have been some ups too.

Like the nice walk I took last Saturday to the Vista Theater. I passed a really nifty looking house, and the theater was old-timey and beautiful.

Today I’ve decided to focus more on my accomplishments and less on the people or situations that are driving me crazy. Despite a few negatives, this week has been full of positive.

  • I decorated my apartment with some really cute cork boards and dry erase boards. I feel more organized already!
  • I received another post card (that makes five!) from Lacey.
  • I got a raise.
  • I met my weekly goal at work and even put together a pretty good case study even though I’ve been swamped.
  • I had the best night of sleep last night — seriously the best I’ve had in at least 10 years.
  • Psych is back!

So what about you? What made you feel happy this week? What accomplishments or goals have you reached so far? What’s making you smile? Lets focus on the good stuff! [Feel free to brag]

When I find myself in times of trouble

Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.

I used to see this before I left my apartment every morning. I thought that having a constant reminder would make step one easier. It wasn’t. I’m not very good with acceptance. That’s not to say I don’t believe that the glaciers are melting and that second-hand smoke can kill me. If there is something I can do, and maybe that something isn’t necessarily in my best interest, and I’m not doing it, then I feel guilty. But it doesn’t stop with guilt. The guilt eats away at me. And even if I’m having a brilliantly blissful day, some how that guilt manages to make an appearance.

A lot of my guilt stems from my dad. With him in jail, my guilt is having a party. Not only do I have my own guilt that I inflict on myself, but I have my dad’s crazy girlfriend amplifying it. She only calls when she needs help. I wish she’d learn that yelling at me, insulting me and laying a guilt trip on me isn’t the way to go about getting my help. On Saturday she called asking if I could wire some money to my dad. I feel bad for him, but he got himself in this situation. I can’t afford his now $10,000 bail (it was $5,000 last week). I honestly don’t want to send money because that’s all I am. However, ignoring the fact that he’s there is making my guilt worse. I want to send him some money just so I feel better. How messed up is that?

Guilt has always been something I’ve struggled with. I realized this when I was too young to really understand what guilt is. I feel guilt for events or actions that I had zero control over then and zero control over now. I have been practicing how to detatch myself from these toxic situations. It’s difficult, but I think I’ve made some progress over the years. There are some areas, some people, that will always be weak spots for me.

Let it be. I’ve said it a lot. It’s a reminder to myself to find the wisdom and courage I need to ultimately accept whatever situation has occurred. Not only is it comforting to me, but it’s also one of my favorite Beatles songs. I got the tattoo while I was in Vegas for the 20SB meetup. Not the best place to get a meaningful tattoo, but the timing was perfect. The blackbird has its own story behind it, but I’ll save that for another day.

The last two weeks have been emotionally exhausting and I’m doing it to myself. No matter how much I want to believe that my dad thinks of me as something other than a bank or escape route, I’m not convinced that he actually does. Accepting that we don’t have a normal relationship, that I can’t trust him, or that he’s pretty much breaking me is something I can’t do on my own. I’ve decided to go back to therapy. I don’t talk about the situation he’s created and I need to because it’s really starting to break me.

But in the mean time, I’ll keep on telling myself to let it be. One day it will stick.

My Robotic Velociraptor Cat

When I got home on my birthday, I got myself cozy on my couch with a box of goodies from my mom. As I opened each present, I would ball up the wrapping paper and throw it on the floor as a present for Voodoo. One for me, one for him.

It didn’t take long before he got bored of the wrapping paper and started playing with the cardboard. I put the box holding my presents on the table behind him, but gave him an empty box to attack. That’s when he activated his laser beam eyes.

I always thought that Voodoo was part cat, part velociraptor, but now I’m not so sure. Maybe he’s part robot too. A robotic velociraptor? It’s possible. Regardless of his genetic makeup, he kept a smile on my face all weekend. If I started feeling upset, I could count on him to do something ridiculous. First it was his Mister Miyagi impression. There was a lone fly uh… flying around my apartment. Voodoo would run back and forth chasing it from the kitchen to the balcony doors. As the fly frantically tried to fly through the window, Voodoo’s swift but giant paw smacked down on the fly. I actually felt bad for the fly. Then I had to yell at Voodoo to stop him from eating it. Still, I’ve never seen him so interested in something since the catnip debacle of ’09.

Then there’s the box. Voodoo still hasn’t given up on the box. Sometimes he lays with his back to it, other times he gets inside of it. Not being the brightest of the robotic velociraptor breed, he’ll occasionally get in it and try to turn around, which only causes the box to shake. I tell him to back out and back in if he wants his head to be near the front, but he never listens.

On Saturday I was able to catch him in a fit o’ fury. I’m not sure if he and the box were fighting and the box won, or perhaps he was yelling at the box. Either way, this picture has kept a smile on my face all weekend. I have a feeling it will be hanging on my (still working) refrigerator soon.
If you’re ever looking for a pick-me-up, you’re more than welcome to borrow my robotic velociraptor. He also likes syrup.

Seriously.

Wishing on airplanes

The nice things about birthdays is that it’s your one chance to wear your rose-colored glasses without being judged. Tough day at work? Refrigerator leaking? Ate one too many pieces of cake? It’s my birthday. I’ll worry about it tomorrow. The bad thing is that birthdays go by so quickly and tomorrow is here before you know it.

Last week got off to a rough start. Normally these things wouldn’t have much affect on me, but it all happened in one day. It was like a marathon of bad luck. And just as things were looking up, I learned that my dad was arrested and my mom’s house was broken into. Not only was karma coming after me, but it was stalking my family. I took it personally.

The Bad Day

My refrigerator is finally keeping my food cold and it has stopped leaking. I decided not to risk it and still bought new milk. The water has also been fixed so I can wash my hands, flush my toilet and shower as often as I’d like. In fact, I may have done the dishes just because I could, and not because I was out of bowls. I haven’t heard from the insurance company since Tuesday, but I’m sure it’s not the last time I’ll hear from them. As for the laptop, well, I haven’t gotten that far yet.

Freelance

… is killing me. I put a lot of pressure on myself, but lately I’ve noticed that I don’t really enjoy what I’m doing anymore. After 10 hour days at work, the last thing I want to do is come home and spend more time working — at least not every day. There’s so much pressure to hit a deadline that isn’t convenient for my work schedule. And lately I’ve been giving up weekends to try to stay ahead of the game. While I do need the money, I think I can make changes in other areas of my life to make up for not having an extra paycheck.

My Dad

… is also killing me. I haven’t written about his situation lately, but mostly because I don’t have the energy to deal with it. Short version: My dad’s girlfriend is abusive, but it’s her word against his. The cops always believe the woman, even though he’s the one bleeding. After 3 years she filed a restraining order, kicking him out of the apartment he pays for. He’s been living with my aunt while the crazy girlfriend calls and calls. If she’s not happy, she calls the cops and tells them he’s harassing her (even though he’s not.) Last week she told him she’d drop the charges and he went to their apartment. Guess who showed up? The cops. He was arrested. He’s currently still in jail awaiting his court date on Wednesday. Girlfriend calls me for bail money. First it was $500, then she asked for $2,500 ($2,000 for herself) I’m not stupid. Even if I could help, I wouldn’t give the money to her. So she’s been harassing me for days, telling me I’m a horrible daughter because I won’t pay to get him out of jail. She put him there. The only reason she wants him out is because he can’t pay her bills if he’s in there. I’m not helping because 1. I don’t have an extra $500 and 2. I’ve bailed him out twice before. I don’t get my money back and he doesn’t learn. However, while I know I’m doing the right thing, the guilt is eating away at me. I spent the last hour of my birthday crying over his eff’ed up life.

My Mom

I feel bad complaining about anything because a year (to the day) after her house was robbed, it was broken into again. Last time they took her jewelry box. We were slowly rebuilding it with birthday and Christmas gifts. This time they took the TV, two laptops (one that I’m still paying for) and her jewelry box. I’m stalking Craigslist to see if they list either of the laptops, but in the mean time, I am searching for deals on new laptops and keeping an eye out for any jewelry that screams “mom!” It’s so shitty that people get away with stuff like this.

Birthday

In between all of this, I celebrated my 26th birthday. It was difficult putting on a happy face, especially with the harassing phone calls from my dad’s girlfriend, but I managed to get through my birthday with little tears. I couldn’t have done it without some awesome friends though. Justine from Brand About Townand Nintendo sent me the most gorgeous bouquet of flowers ever. A co-worker sent me a box of the tastiest cookies from a local bakery. Brandy sent lots of internet hugs and love my way (thank you!) Mindy, my birthday twin, sent birthday love and flowers. Another co-worker surprised me with a delicious birthday cake. LA friends celebrated with me at Cliff’s Edge Cafe. And Nico ended the evening with an “it’s okay” hug, which was exactly what I needed.

I’m still clinging to my rose-tinted glasses, but reality is seeping in. I’m not sure what I’ll do about my dad or the guilt, but I’m going to start wishing on airplanes and making more time for me (not freelance) so I can focus on everything that’s going on. The silver lining: It still hasn’t hit me that I’m 26 years old.

Thanks again for all of the love, kind words, birthday wishes and support. I heart the internet.

The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

I let people go even when I have the right of way. I stop to let people turn or pull out. I send cards just because. I call to say hello. I pay my bills on time. I take on extra jobs. I do favors for nothing. I feed stray animals and give money to charity. So what did I do to get so much bad karma this week?

Over the weekend I learned that my refrigerator decided to stop working. It just gave up on fighting the good fight. Brand new groceries were going bad. My milk was chunky, strawberries grew moldy and I won’t even tell you what my yogurt looked like. I worked from home today to wait for my replacement fridge (I rent because LA isn’t a fridge-friendly city.)

While restocking the new fridge, I got some jelly on my fingers (I’m messy) so I wash my hands. I turn on the faucet and find no water coming out. My faucet is making a sound similar to that of a car that has just given up on life. You too faucet? So I let it sit for a while because maybe it was just having a slow morning. I ignore my kitchen and try to get back to work only to find that my computer had turned itself off. That’s weird, it was fully charged 15 minutes ago. It doesn’t turn on until I plug it back in. Upon its return to reality I’m faced with a “service battery” note. Le sigh. Well this would explain its lack of battery life lately. I figure that I need to complain to the genius bar about my horrible iPhone, so why not make it a double bitch fest?

I check the sink again. Nothing. Just as I return back to work, I get a phone call. Thinking it was the appliance place, I answered. Nope. A few months ago I “caused” an accident – except I didn’t. I entered the intersection on a yellow light, but the oncoming car decided to make a left turn. I swerved out of the way, he braked and the person behind him hit him. I stopped, made sure everyone was okay, exchanged info and called my insurance company just in case. Since I wasn’t hit, I didn’t hit anyone and was legally in the intersection, I’m not at fault. Well, the woman who hit the car believes it’s my fault and her insurance company called me today. Nearly five months later.

I check the sink again. Nothing. It’s now going on 5 p.m. and I’m getting a little worried. The management office hasn’t said a word about the water. They have no idea when it will be fixed and they’ve been working on it all day. I really had to pee, I’d like to wash my hands and I was considering buying a gallon of water to wash my hair. Not only is tomorrow picture day at work (yes, just like high school!) but I have an event after work. I need to be clean!

I check the sink. Still nothing. I go to the management office about 20 minutes before they close. Before I can even finish my sentence the manager throws his head back and sighs. He’s annoyed by another question about the water situation. He tells me that he thinks it will be back on tonight, but he’s not sure. Okay, don’t get annoyed with me. We’re all frustrated. You had out notices about everything else, but leave us in the dark about the water. I bite my tongue and leave with a smile on my face.

I check the sink again. Orange water. Hey that’s a start! Within an hour the water comes back and the villagers rejoice! The night has taken a decent turn. I got two iPhone app lists written, started on my TiP column, wrote a blog post for work and made some edits to a strategy doc. I felt accomplished so I sat down for an early dinner, but not before checking the sink to make sure the water still works. As I’m wrapping up dinner, I hear what can only be described as someone pouring water on my floor. I go in the kitchen, check the sink, open the fridge and freezer. Nothing. I start to put away the leftovers when I notice a puddle of water on the side of the fridge, and it’s growing. My new fridge is leaking. I call my mom and cry. She tells me something about a gypsy and I hang up in tears. I start wiping up the water and try to pull the fridge away from the wall, but not before I smack my head on the corner of my cabinets. I call the appliance place, but they’re not open.

I’m afraid of what tomorrow might bring. I’m already on edge because of my review at work so I don’t need impending doom hovering over my head. Especially a day before my birthday. This week needs to suck less. If you need me, I’ll be hiding under blankets.

[Edit: I realize that there are oil spills, murders, poverty and other traumas that justify complaint and that my problems aren't epic. However, I choose to vent because I can. Everything will be fine tomorrow.]

It’s not 5 o’clock until the titmouse chirps

My grandma and I always thought that my grandpa should write a book. Now that I’m getting older (and wiser), I realize that I could write a book about him. He’s the perfect character and provides endless fodder for this blog of mine. So just in case you’re wondering where I get my crazy from, you can thank him. And don’t think you’re out of the woods mom and grandma. You’ve both contributed to this crazy!

Tonight, before I left work I was chatting with my boss and we got on the subject of birds. I’m not sure how, but we were talking about humming birds. This made me think of my gramps because he loves birds. Growing up there were always bird feeders in the back yard. There are still and there always will be, even after I take over the house (cause I will.)

My gramps loves birds so much that he owned one of those clocks that, on the hour, plays a different bird’s tweet/chirp/noise. I loved being in the room with him when the clock went off because he would always move his mouth, trying to mimic the bird. That clock stayed on the kitchen wall for at least 10 years. In that time, every family member could tell what time it was by the sound of the bird that played. During my recent trip home, I learned that the clock had an unfortunate accident that resulted in a new clock being brought in. Thankfully this clock was also a bird clock. Unfortunately the new clock came with new birds.

I like to imagine my grandpa sitting at the kitchen table, refusing to believe that it’s 5 o’clock because the titmouse isn’t chirping. Or sometimes I picture both of my grandparents not knowing what time it is because they don’t recognize the sound of the bird.

I wonder if my blog would exist without my family…

Drink Jerkface!

I’m a good girl.

I meet deadlines, wash behind my ears, I call my mom (sometimes too much) and go to bed at a decent time. I look both ways before crossing the street, I cross my legs (unless it’s hot — ladylike doesn’t exist past 90 degrees — and I recycle. Friends can depend on me, animals can sleep on me — unless it’s a narwhal — and I’m pretty sure I’m always right (that’s a rule, right?)

But some nights you just have to say fuck it.

It’s 9:30 on Monday night and I’m having a big ass glass of wine. Screw you calendar. I’m not waiting until the weekend!

Rules can suck it.

Yeah… I’m being lowered in.

What does this image have to do with this post? Very little. I just liked the idea of me forcing a ruler to drink. Maybe I should have started writing before I broke out the wine.

I know better not to be friends with boys with girlfriends

Girl friend: A friend who happens to be a girl.
Girlfriend: A girl who you are in a committed relationship with.

Stop confusing the two, okay? Thanks.

I like surprises. You know what I don’t like? If that surprise is your girlfriend.

You know what else I don’t like? Being the girl friend who gets ditched for the girlfriend. I’m fun to hang out with for a year, but the minute someone starts showing you her boobies I get kicked to the curb? Not cool.

Both of those are pretty annoying, but you know what really grinds my gears? Mind games. You’re treated like a girlfriend, but he insists that you’re just a girl friend.

Quit it.

Girlfriend. This word causes way too much drama.