UGGGGHHHH

I HATE MY FUCKING JOB!

I AM TAKING A XANEX.

HAVE A NICE FUCKING WEEKEND.

Dirty Filthy Car

"Saving one animal won't change the world, but it will change the world for that one animal."

I never wash my car. That worked just fine for me for about 10 years but then my parents got a new Mercedes and gave me their old one (not that old 1997 - 40th anniversary edition - some strange shade of blue/purple - only 250 made for USA). OK, those are the facts about my transportation.

It's a special car - only 250 after all - so I feel an obligation to keep it clean but I treat it like an SUV (which I plan to buy as soon as I see a hybrid make its way down to FL). It is the primary doggie transport vehicle because it has a handy shelf instead of a leather back seat. Because the top goes down you can fit much more than one would have ever thought in this car so it is also the designated camping car.

We once drove 4 hours with a tent, a 10ft inflatable boat, a 3hp trolling motor, 2 coolers, 2 camping chairs, stove, lantern, cook ware, 2 dogs (husky and jack russell), 2 people, a back pack, about 10 towels, 2 sleeping bags (the cheap bulky kind), and anything else you might need for camping out 2 nights on an island a mile off shore.

So my car, I feel bad when it is dirty which is very often as I have no garage and a huge nasty berry dropping tree over my driveway. Don't get me wrong - I would chain myself to that tree before I let anyone cut it down. I almost had to - it was going to be cut down about 2 days before I closed on my Coconut Grove townhouse. Luckily I had voiced my opinion that having a large tree in the middle of a driveway was completely awesome.

Today I get my car washed for the first time in over a month. It looks very clean. The I get closer. I see all these miniscule spots that really bother me. I run my hand over the hood (would never to that to unwashed car) and am actually upset that my hand gets dirty and that the hood is not smooooth.

So I don't care about my car when it is dirty, but I turn into an anal bitch when it is clean.

I don't get it.

Another introspective e-mail

I have started an e-mail conversation w/ someone who I met though the comments at Tequila Mockingbird and they have been gracious enough to read this and give feedback. In my letters I find myself opening up and not bitching about every little thing in the world so I thought it would be cool to post yet another one. You know, this way I wont have to write twice.




Subject: RE: Why are sugar alcohols evil?

Mish:

Uh huh, uh huh. Zippers are more important than me.



I see how it is.


J

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Its not the zippers, it the MONEY!!!!



Yet another day in work hell – all spent fixing mistakes, none of them mine. I was in a huge funk until I figured out what had gone wrong and then I suddenly felt as if I had drank about 3 cups of coffee at once. I never realized it, but actually knowing what you are doing is a huge rush. When I saw where the glitch occurred (2 weeks ago while I was on funeral vacation) I was like “Yeah, I’m da man”.



I hate it when other people make mistakes, but I hate it more when I do. I yell at myself much more than I do at others. I actually don’t yell, but it is soooo weird being a boss like person when everyone else is older and w/ families and have worked here longer than me as well.



I have tomorrow off but will most likely come in anyway L.



Meds – I was on effexor but I HATED it. It completely killed my sex drive to the point that I had no interest even in masturbating. A doctor finally listened to me and switched me to Welbutrin which as far as I can tell has no significant side effects. Being on birth control tends to really alter ones mood so this might have something to do w/ it. I remember that I used to say that I was happier and skinnier when I was single and one day I realized that it was because I don’t use the pill when I am single. As I am quite prone to depression the pill probably affected me more than I realized. When I went to France, I forgot to take my pills (genius move I know) but after being off them for a week, I decided not to get back on. Hopefully this will make me happier (as long as I don’t get pregnant).



The switch was interesting though. Effexor doesn’t take the usual 2 weeks to kick in but Welbutrin does so there was about 2 weeks while I was taking low doses of each, but not really feeling the effects of either. In retrospect, I realize I was pretty “sensitive” about everything during those 2 weeks. At least I can laugh about it now.



While I didn’t actually try to commit suicide I did things that endangered my life like hanging upside down out of a 3rd story window by my legs – normally I wouldn’t even do that on monkey bars in a playground b/c I am such a scaredy cat.



I also quit my job, gave my car back to my parents and tried to walk home 10 miles.



C broke up w/ me for about a few hours and I thought it would be a good idea to try to hang myself by making a noose out of my huskies leash while it was attached to the dog – you know, a sled dog, the kind that pulls. Really hard. Obviously it was just a teeny cry for attention and C unhooked the dog for me when he came back to the parking lot.



That was also when I got in touch w/ the person who got me into the whole blog thing in the first place. I wasn’t too nice to her. I kinda want to apologize and explain the mental circumstances I was under, but it seems stupid for me to apologize when she is the one who slept w/ my boyfriend. What do you think?



About the depressing journal thing – I don’t like reading them. I like funny ones like Tequila Mockingbird and Dooce. I once read this blog where this girl was just whining about her exboyfriend and going on and on and on about how much better she would be this time around if he came back to her. This is what ALL of her posts were about. Or just observational ones. That is what I wanted to create, but I have created a depressing one. I have been thinking about making this one private and starting a new one reserved only for those happy times or when I notice something cool like what the hell do bunnies and colored eggs have to do w/ Jesus being crucified? I don’t get it. Bunnies don’t even lay eggs. I has to have some sort of historical significance – maybe one year I will look it up but for now I will just let it continue to bother me.



Whew – it’s a good thing I have autocorrect and can type fast.



I like writing to you. You read it and give honest feedback – what else could anyone want? I just hope you don’t laugh with your friends about this crazy girl who writes to you. But as they don’t know me, it wouldn’t really matter. Its funny, but I have severe problems w/ opening up to people, at least those I know. I can't even be completely honest with a therapist, for some reason I view it as a confrontation. I even became disillusioned w/ psychology after taking the therapist training class. It is all reflexive and mirroring talking. It is also much easier to write for me than to talk. I guess you have much more control when you write. You can always delete, but you can't delete what’s been heard.



I did realize that C and I were fighting a lot less this year. I wish I could delete some of the things I have heard from him and the visions of him saying them. Another problem of mine, I can forgive, but it is very hard for me to forget. I am trying to work on that, I guess that’s why I am thinking of apologizing to the girl who slept w/ boyfriend.



For over 10 years I had no interest in knowing about her and having her in my life, but after reading her and her husbands blogs I realize that they are both pretty cool people. She also just had a baby. But at the same time I think that she showed me her true colors back then, while she claims it was just a drunken mistake made while she was only a teen. I don’t know, I have never hurt anyone like that and don’t think I ever could, no matter how drunk I was. I guess that is what I should forgive and forget. Oh well………



What kind of books do you write? I read that you were writing one on your blog.



Once again, I wrote WAY more than I intended to.



Cheers!



Mish

Reply to an e-mail

Also, I will bet you money or zippers or whatever you want that you won't get married. Although, maybe your journal reflects the bad times, and not the good times. It's hard to truly get an idea of who someone is based on such a limited view into their life.

THIS WAS WHAT WAS WRITTEN, MY REPLY FOLLOWS

That I have not yet learned that brevity is the soul of wit is apparent.

Yeah – the marriage thing is weighing heavily on my mind. At times I want it and at times I don’t. When I think I don’t I wonder what I would do w/o C and then I remember that I was single for years and loved it. But one can't remain single for ever. Well some can, but I don’t want to. In all honesty, he is the most considerate, understanding, and loving person I have ever met. I am the kind of girl you hear about who is always attracted to guys that are bad for them and C seems like he is good for me. I know that our future will be fun. Thing is I don’t always know that. I am not too sure about the chemistry though, but I hear that fades after marriage and you need love and respect to make it work. It was there in the beginning but then it faded (the chemistry that is) but it could have faded b/c of the meds I am taking. We are both quite strange people and complement each other in many ways. But we are also both single children so we tend to act like siblings at times. We like many of the same things – camping in stupid weather, traversing open water ways in a 10’ inflatable w/ a 3hp engine, going on pointless drives down south to the farms, walking for hours through south beach w/o drinking a thing. He loves my menagerie of animals as much as I do; they are his as well, not just MINE. I also have 2 cats.

I made myself a rule that I would not live w/ anyone else unless we were engaged. C moved in before I was ready and then I was pushing for a proposal. I eventually got it and was quite happy. I don’t know - it could all just boil down to that I have a very thin skin when it comes to emotions.

The “Back from Brazil” post was written with such jet-lagged vengeance and venom and a large headache that I didn’t actually publish it for about a month after I wrote it. I knew that it was too dark, too mean, and too spiteful but I figured that if I took the time to write it, in that snapshot of time it was accurate, and should be recorded b/c that is what the blog is for. I know it is bad, and shows a bad side to things. I believe it shows some lack of compassion on my part for not giving C more slack and patience under the circumstances. It seems like you are my own personal blog at this point. Thanks for the ears. Please send a bill whenever you feel appropriate!

By the way, I am posting this as I feel it makes a good entry. All started because of sugar alcohols.

I really am COMPELLED to write when things suck. I wish I could write about the happy times but they aren’t things that I need to work out. I am on anti-depressants and have a feeling that they are numbing my emotions. I need to wean myself off of it, but last time I tried I really behaved like a raving lunatic at times. I rant but I don’t rave.

I used to religiously keep a diary when I was in junior high and high school and though I don’t remember being completely suicidal and depressed during that time, according to my writing I was.

Back from France - Mother in law dead

It sucks, really sucks. I am not religious so I don't give into that bullshit that it was for a reason, it was her time, etc...

it wasn't her time. She was simply phobic of doctors and never had her cancer looked after until it was too late. She had about 12 surgeries in about 20 days and died of a heart attack. Not in her sleep.

I feel sooo bad for my poor Charlie. He really loved his mommy. It is strange but I have never cried so much at a funeral before. I didn't know her that well, and wasn't sure how much I liked her (everytime she saw me she said I should lose some weight and I don't consider myself fat).

She also expressed absolute surprise that I don't cook dinner every night for her son, nor do I do his ironing. I had to kindly explain to her that he arrives home (mine completely by the way) from work on the average about 2 hours before me. I am a working woman, a kind of creature she wasn't too knowledgeable about.

I am talking smack but she didn't need to die. I cant tell his family this but I feel that the clinic she was at royally fucked up. After her first (of MANY) intestinal surgery the first solid food they gave her was Picadillo - a Spanish dish made of ground beef, olives, raisins, and onions. That's right - beef - after having parts of her intestine removed. When I saw that I wondered what kind of quack hospital is this.

After the emergency surgeries started becoming alarmingly frequent I was very worried but still utterly shocked when I got the call that his mamman had died (they are French). She was only 56 and a sexy an vivacious woman. The dress she had bought to wear to our wedding was a slinky little number with cut-outs on the side and very low cut.

Instead she wears it for eternity.

I wanted to see her in that dress but I couldn't because to ship some one who has died (cant say "body") you have to put them in a sealed casket lined with lead. No open casket at this funeral.

I hate American funeral wreaths. I find them repulsive, not to mention tacky. The French ones are nice though. They are more like bouquets and baskets, not these monstrous round banner and flower covered plaques we use in the states.

I want to keep going but am at work and feel as if I will break down any minute now. I hope to continue this later.

Not very cheery.

Back from Brazil - Wedding Postponed

Postponed or called off? I don't honestly know. I was just kinda going w/ the flow before. We fought a lot but had already sent out the invites and booked EVERYTHING so I figured, I got my self into this mess and I should stick it out, behave like an adult, and commit as most other humans do. I am reaching 30 in a few months and was happy to be getting married before that milestone.

Do I want to get married, or do I want to marry Charlie? Which one is the stronger pull?
Right now none of them.
I see babies and I like them - I would be a great mother someday I like to believe.

His mom is in the hospital in Brazil. She had a tumor that ruptured an intestine and had to undergo emergency surgery to remove part of the damaged organ. She faces one or two more operations in the future - when? Don't know?

The future inlaws live in Brazil so that is where we went. To Rio de Janero. Fun right? NOT! I am always so uncomfortable around his father. It was better this time though, I didn't leave w/ him calling me a piece of shit. Things are looking up....

I got home from the airport around 5:30 this morning after arriving in one around 8:30 last night.

I didn't sleep one wink on the plane but did finally read "I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings" by Maya Angelou. Great book. It makes me sad that such a strong woman had to go through so much in her childhood, but that might be what made her such a strong woman. Not really, if the narrative is correct, she shows incredible strength all throughout her life. The kind you never know you have until you are forced to find it.

I also fought about 3 times w/ Charlie. We fight like children. I hit him, he hits me harder (or vice versa) and it escalates until one of us gets really pissed.

I have had so many moments w/ him when the only reason we stayed together is because I don't have the heart to kick him out and I refuse to move out of my home. He behaves so immaturely at times.

"Open your yapper and say something positive" that is treating me like I am a little dog the fucking asshole. He is always saying things like that. I fucking hate it.

I really feel like a disturbed person at the moment.

I want to get my thoughts down but I cut my finger and I have a horrible headache.

Wedding Stress Sucks

Especially when FH does nothing to help and acts like an asshole at work. He tell me he doesn't like it when I say FUCK and then he tells me to FUCK OFF today.

FUCKING HYPOCRITE.

Yes, I am aware I have some issues and we have some problems.

I am just fucking pissed now, and it doesn't seem like all the Xanex in the would could help. I fell like putting on some high heels and having a dry dirty martini and being hit on - nah - I hate being hit on. I like picking my men.

I act like such a guy sometimes, and I feel like I am marrying this innocent who doesn't know enough. But he feel he does, and he is much more mature than the average 24 year old, but I guess not mature enough yet.

I will wait for him, like a fine wine - w/ cheese b/c that was just too cheesy!

I made myself smile - YEAH!!

I just read a post about annoymous blogs - a negative one.

Why? I want to put down my private thoughts w/o people linking them to the actual ME.

Of course I leave PLENTY of clues but you wont google my name and come up w/ this.

I have never felt so stressed in my life. Honestly, the only thing getting me through is that in March I will spend 1 1/2 weeks in AMSTERDAM, and some time in Paris (which I am not so secretly dreading) b/c everytime FH gets around French speakers its like he forgets that I know not a single fucking word of french except to say "Je ne parle pas Francais" - "I don't speak French"

Feeling for today: AAAHHHGGGGG KILL ME NOW, no wait till I get back from Europe.

And a veil costs like $200 for a $14 piece of fabric w/ some fucking edging that I cant get right!

So I am skipping out on social function w/ FH so he can go be an asshole to his secretary instead of his fiance.

Why marry if I am so pissed? It used to be really good. He is young and I hope he will mature QUICKLY. We both suck when we work too much which is always, but we rock when we are on vacation which is rare.

We are both active in our community - our first date was a city hall meeting to not shrink our dog park - where we smoked our first joint. We share a seat on our neighborhood homeowners association. We fight for trees together. He does need to catch up on the animal rights thing though. I hate veal and foi gras and he loves them - icky!

Enough negativity for today - sorry for anyone who happens to read this.

that's what I hate about writing in journals. I only write when I am really sad, so then I look back to things I wrote 10 years ago and all I see is a suicidal, miserable (over boys for gods sake!), hopeless teenager.

I though that w/ a blog I would also write when I was happy but the urge only strikes when I am sad. Self therapy I guess.

Cheers to me!