I've been writing blog posts in my head for a while now, but none have actually made it to the computer, which really doesn't help anyone does it?
As you know from my last link, I'm trying to become a Gnar Hoops sponsored hooper. I know I'm very early in my hoop journey, but truly feel like with the help of a dedicated and fantastic company behind me, I can really increases my skill and influence in my own little corner of the world.
I am also applying for a promotion at my "day job" of telemarketer. And I'm being interviewed at 9pm tonight for said job.
I'm ridiculously nervous about this. Like can't sleep, can't think, totally want this position, nervous. I feel like I might be passed over purely because there have been whispers of my manager showing me favoritism. Which is total bullshit. I have to make the same goals, work the same hours and use the same guidelines as everyone else. He respects me. Because I respect him, and the job and the company. I am grateful for my stupid job as a telemarketer because I have a job! In the mean time I've also picked up four extra hours a week doing said job.
And while all that is going on, I'm having to drive my husband to and from work while his license is suspended for the previous DUI arrest this summer. So I'm getting up at 5am every morning, piling all three of us (Wildflower Child can't stay home alone) into the car and driving him to work, then taking her and I to my parents' house because it is closer than coming home, spending the day there and then coming back through to pick him up and come home and then go to my job.
Needless to say, I'm tired.
I would LOVE to be on cam these nights. This is a great time to be modeling. I just don't have the time or the energy! And the Husband keeps staying up late so I can't even get ready and go online for an hour or two because he's awake and out of respect I don't do that until after he's asleep. Which is really frustrating. Because if he would be more supportive, he might get more action. Consider a positive experience cam modeling with the promise of a nice check as a great way to "prime the pump" in the sexy times department.
This pump be dry.
Also I have a cold.
I am the biggest wuss in the world with a cold. I hate them. With a fiery passion born of the depths of hell.
Kill me.
There is too much on my plate.
I need a vacation.
And I'm completely convinced I'm not going to get either the promotion or the sponsorship so I'm trying to not be too excited about either.
And then I get ready for work and think, "wow I have an involved 'beauty regimin." I don't think I'm all that attractive, but damn don't I fight hard to make the best of what I do have.
I'm a complete makeup addict. But since I try to only buy cruelty free products, and I'm cheap, most of my cosmetics are things I can get at Target. Like elf and Physicians Formula brands. I used to layer on tons of makeup in college and try for that "completely totally flawless mask" look, but that's beyond me now. For a while I was getting away with coconut oil as moisturizer, some foundation powder, and my eyes done however I wanted them. I rarely wear lipstick (most specifically lip stains). But since I've been so tired and dehydrated and now viral...I'm going all out. I'm talking concealer, BB cream, powder, eye highlighter, shadow, liner, mascara, blush, powder.
What the fuck?
And at night I "wash" it all off with more coconut oil and hot water. And then treat blemishes with tea tree oil and moisturize for the night with grapeseed oil.
And for the first three minutes after washing my face, I look better than I did all day. That's so fucking frustrating.
So anyway, here's to being interviewed when I'm exhausted and full of snot. Trying to make the best of a crumbling facade. And not nearly enough sleep.
Kill me.
Fuck you voices in my head
I get wrapped up in my head sometimes. So wrapped up the rest of the world drops away and becomes hazy and unreal. I replay conversations, script new ones that will never happen, turn memories over and over like worry stones.
Tonight was one of those in my head nights. Started on the drive to work, navigating through the dark to my florescent lit cubicle for a few hours of unreal reality. Lost in the last year, trying to sing along with the radio to ground myself. Lost. Lonely. Aching.
I wonder if the people who populate my mind talk to me in the dark.
Am I just a shadow?
An Open Letter to Francis Ford Coppola
Dear Francis Ford Coppola,
You Sir, owe me an apology for the hour and 20 some minutes of my life I will never get back after watching "Twixt" during a fit of insomnia.
I naively believed that with the combination of your historically significant cinematic achievements, the occasionally fantastic performances of Val Kilmer, and the always charming Ben Chaplin, I would be in for a late night treat. I was even eager to see what the young and talented Elle Fanning had to offer.
The answer? Not much.
Except for a brief few moments during which Kilmer as "Hal Baltimore" (dear God was there an "Alex Delaware" novel next to your writing desk at some point?) riffs opening lines at his computer screen in a refreshingly funny and relaxed manner reminiscent of "Real Genius" and "Willow," the movie was confused, poorly acted, visually ridiculous and overloaded with attempts at symbolism, religious fanaticism, and maybe time travel, but that last part might be a reach because honestly, I don't have the foggiest idea (see what I did there? Referencing "fog?" No fog on the lake!) how the mass murder and the kids living across the lake (are they really vampires? Really?) could be in the same place and time based on the newspaper clippings. Just because the clothing and motorcycle would not be historically accurate.
And trying to turn "V" into "Vickie" AND Poe's late wife/cousin all at the same time? No. Just, no.
Since I cannot reclaim the lost time spent waiting for some glimmer of greatness in this piece of digital wreckage, all I can ask is whether or not there is a specific combination of pharmaceuticals or a cocktail of some nature that would make this film make sense.
Ben Chaplin should play Edgar Allan Poe again, in a better film. He was great. The bright orange lantern in every scene was distracting and unnecessary.
Val Kilmer tried. At least I know he's still alive.
And Elle Fanning has many years to grow her craft beyond this. So she'll be fine.
I'm waiting for that apology.
You Sir, owe me an apology for the hour and 20 some minutes of my life I will never get back after watching "Twixt" during a fit of insomnia.
I naively believed that with the combination of your historically significant cinematic achievements, the occasionally fantastic performances of Val Kilmer, and the always charming Ben Chaplin, I would be in for a late night treat. I was even eager to see what the young and talented Elle Fanning had to offer.
The answer? Not much.
Except for a brief few moments during which Kilmer as "Hal Baltimore" (dear God was there an "Alex Delaware" novel next to your writing desk at some point?) riffs opening lines at his computer screen in a refreshingly funny and relaxed manner reminiscent of "Real Genius" and "Willow," the movie was confused, poorly acted, visually ridiculous and overloaded with attempts at symbolism, religious fanaticism, and maybe time travel, but that last part might be a reach because honestly, I don't have the foggiest idea (see what I did there? Referencing "fog?" No fog on the lake!) how the mass murder and the kids living across the lake (are they really vampires? Really?) could be in the same place and time based on the newspaper clippings. Just because the clothing and motorcycle would not be historically accurate.
And trying to turn "V" into "Vickie" AND Poe's late wife/cousin all at the same time? No. Just, no.
Since I cannot reclaim the lost time spent waiting for some glimmer of greatness in this piece of digital wreckage, all I can ask is whether or not there is a specific combination of pharmaceuticals or a cocktail of some nature that would make this film make sense.
Ben Chaplin should play Edgar Allan Poe again, in a better film. He was great. The bright orange lantern in every scene was distracting and unnecessary.
Val Kilmer tried. At least I know he's still alive.
And Elle Fanning has many years to grow her craft beyond this. So she'll be fine.
I'm waiting for that apology.
Should I try to fuck James Deen?
So I read Jezebel and found out that James Deen has an open casting call for amateur partners with whom to film porn scenes. It clearly says he'll do all types.
I'm so tempted to apply.
Of course my husband would not approve.
But I keep thinking about it. Things like "if I lose another ten pounds or another inch on my waist, I'll apply." Or, "it might restart my libido after the whole mono fiasco."
Then I wounder about birth control, because I'm not on any. And that would suck, being the old lady that got knocked up by James Deen.
And then I masturbate to James Deen porn and the though cycle starts all over.
The article in Jezebel had pictures of him cuddling kitties. This didn't help my obsession.
November, damn, the year is almost over
We made it through Halloween this year without a natural disaster, so that should count for something. But I still woke up this morning with my heart in my throat trying to figure out how we are going to pay electric, car insurance, and my husband's DUI fees. Not to mention buy food. At least it is warm enough so that there is no need to start the pellet stove. And I'm trying to be very conservative with oil because I have no idea how we are going to afford that this winter.
Stress.
So in the spirit of November and challenges and Thanksgiving... I'm doing my hardest to remain positive.
This morning I started a 30 day plank challenge. I will get this body in great shape somehow.
I printed out a 14 months check-off calendar to keep track of my hoop practice.
I got a long wonderful cuddle session with the Wildflower Child before starting our day. And she ate the oatmeal I made for breakfast.
These are good things.
Last night I actually dressed up for Halloween for my office costume contest. Came in second. Lost the $20 gift card by one vote.
Every year I think I'll try participating in NaNoWriMo, and then I get overwhelmed and don't even try. So this year I'm saying that the plank challenge is enough. Fuck, just getting to the end of the year with a husband still in the ARD program and a roof over my head will be enough.
I'm really dreading the holidays.
Stress.
So in the spirit of November and challenges and Thanksgiving... I'm doing my hardest to remain positive.
This morning I started a 30 day plank challenge. I will get this body in great shape somehow.
I printed out a 14 months check-off calendar to keep track of my hoop practice.
I got a long wonderful cuddle session with the Wildflower Child before starting our day. And she ate the oatmeal I made for breakfast.
These are good things.
Every year I think I'll try participating in NaNoWriMo, and then I get overwhelmed and don't even try. So this year I'm saying that the plank challenge is enough. Fuck, just getting to the end of the year with a husband still in the ARD program and a roof over my head will be enough.
I'm really dreading the holidays.
Crystal
Today is our crystal anniversary (or watches if you are using the "modern" list). That's fifteen years if you aren't in the "marketing shit no one needs to people who like to be stuck up about it" market.
Fifteen years we've been married. Last year I remember asking my boss if I could use a 15 minute pass to go home early I was so excited to spend just a little bit more time with him event though things had been rough, we were doing okay.
This year, I keep crying. And not happy tears.
I feel starved for romance, intimacy, honesty, a gentle touch with no ulterior motive, a selfless act, trust.
I feel bitter and hard and mean because I can't tell if he is telling me the truth and I doubt everything. I am terrified all the time that the world will come crashing down around my ears and there is nothing I will be able to do to stop it.
I want to be able to model good relationships for my daughter, and I am miserable and tired and angry.
I want to not be a provoker (as Al-Anon describes it), but I don't know how to talk to him about his issues without sounding like a nagging bitch.
He tells me multiple times a day that he loves me. But it sounds so empty.
He says he's "trying so hard!" to make things work and our lives better, but doesn't actually make any moves to take care of very important issues until I am crazy with worry and stress. And then does the minimum to shut me up and puts it on the back burner again until I boil over with rage in the future.
This is not a good relationship.
I want it to be.
I don't hate him.
He's a good father. He loves our daughter, and our cats, and says he loves me. But I don't make any impression on him to change, or at least change enough to allay my fears.
Recently he was acting erratically and had been sleeping most of the afternoon. When I came into the living room with my snack to watch TV he almost exploded in rage claiming I was looking at him like I was furious. Laying there on the daybed stretched out and snapping at me for looking at him wrong.
I had glanced at him as I made my way to the chair to see if he was awake and I might have been frowning because I was stressed and concerned and didn't know if he was sober or not.
He has admitted to me in the last few months that he has been abusive. Not physically. He doesn't hit me. But since that admission he has done nothing to get the help he needs to be a complete and healthy person.
Oh he went to the doctor, and eventually got the blood work that was ordered, but he won't do counseling or AA. And I'm about 90% sure he's still smoking since he didn't finish his Chantix prescription and the car smelled like smoke yesterday. But he lies so easily.
I want to be happy for my 15th wedding anniversary. To feel loved and safe and like this is an accomplishment of which I can be proud. I want to be part of an equal and loving partnership that can survive the slings and arrows of the days.
I just keep working on myself and trying to be a good mother. Leading by example I guess. I truly don't know what else to do.
Fifteen years we've been married. Last year I remember asking my boss if I could use a 15 minute pass to go home early I was so excited to spend just a little bit more time with him event though things had been rough, we were doing okay.
This year, I keep crying. And not happy tears.
I feel starved for romance, intimacy, honesty, a gentle touch with no ulterior motive, a selfless act, trust.
I feel bitter and hard and mean because I can't tell if he is telling me the truth and I doubt everything. I am terrified all the time that the world will come crashing down around my ears and there is nothing I will be able to do to stop it.
I want to be able to model good relationships for my daughter, and I am miserable and tired and angry.
I want to not be a provoker (as Al-Anon describes it), but I don't know how to talk to him about his issues without sounding like a nagging bitch.
He tells me multiple times a day that he loves me. But it sounds so empty.
He says he's "trying so hard!" to make things work and our lives better, but doesn't actually make any moves to take care of very important issues until I am crazy with worry and stress. And then does the minimum to shut me up and puts it on the back burner again until I boil over with rage in the future.
This is not a good relationship.
I want it to be.
I don't hate him.
He's a good father. He loves our daughter, and our cats, and says he loves me. But I don't make any impression on him to change, or at least change enough to allay my fears.
Recently he was acting erratically and had been sleeping most of the afternoon. When I came into the living room with my snack to watch TV he almost exploded in rage claiming I was looking at him like I was furious. Laying there on the daybed stretched out and snapping at me for looking at him wrong.
I had glanced at him as I made my way to the chair to see if he was awake and I might have been frowning because I was stressed and concerned and didn't know if he was sober or not.
He has admitted to me in the last few months that he has been abusive. Not physically. He doesn't hit me. But since that admission he has done nothing to get the help he needs to be a complete and healthy person.
Oh he went to the doctor, and eventually got the blood work that was ordered, but he won't do counseling or AA. And I'm about 90% sure he's still smoking since he didn't finish his Chantix prescription and the car smelled like smoke yesterday. But he lies so easily.
I want to be happy for my 15th wedding anniversary. To feel loved and safe and like this is an accomplishment of which I can be proud. I want to be part of an equal and loving partnership that can survive the slings and arrows of the days.
I just keep working on myself and trying to be a good mother. Leading by example I guess. I truly don't know what else to do.
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