Music · Uncategorized

She’s a rapper now! Ha.

Did you know the Cash me Ousside girl is a rapper now? Whaaat?

Okay, let me clarify a few things. I may be old, (28 tomorrow) but I am a real white-girl gangster. I drive an SUV and I have three children. I live in a small predominately white town. I shop at Target. I’ve owned a Tula. I like Starbucks.

Before you call me a basic bitch, let me tell you that I hate pumpkin spiced lattes. Don’t even get me started.

That makes me less of a basic bitch, yeah?

I cannot own a firearm, but if I could. Glock in my ‘Rari. Always strappin’. You know? Feel me bro?

With all my kitten aside. (Ha. I love cats!) I am definitely white. Real, real white. I’m proud of who I am though. And I enjoy who I am. I have a deep love for rap music. I can rap really well. Not freestyle, but memorized raps. I got you boo.

Anyways, her song is actually pretty good. It’s called “These Heaux.” Check it out!

 

anxiety · Relationships · Uncategorized

A Cry for Help – Confusion

I refuse to reach out for help. There have been few times when I have reached out for help and it hasn’t come back to bust me in the ass, but man, I’m confused. I need to vent. And what do you do when you cannot vent to anyone? You blog. That’s what you do.

Dearest finace,

Our relationship has turned to shit. I understand you are like 50 people’s boss, but can you understand this? I am not your employee.
I am your lover. The mother of your children. Your better half, (in the words of the infamous garbage man).

I work. And I work. AND I work. Do you want to know why? I’m going to tell you, and you are never going to read this. I work because it is the only way that I feel sane. It preoccupies my brain, my mind, and everything that keeps me functioning. Without it, I would never be able to be with you.

Remember when I was a stay at home mom? That time is forever etched in my mind as traumatic. I need help, but you are the last person I can ask. I’ve lost trust in you. I’m scared of you. I love you, but I am with you for three reasons to be exact.

Remember when you ruined my friendship with my best guy friend? Remember when you found out that I was falling in love with the garbage man. What did you do?
You beat my ass, that’s what you did.
After accusing me of cheating on you, you choked me until I thought I would die. I was panic stricken, fearing for my life. I thought it was the end of all. I screamed for help, and you choked me to make me shut up. I cannot put those feelings into words. My heart was racing, my mind was pulling blanks and vivid scenarios at the same time. My ears echoed my own heartrate, blood pumped through my head slowly and quickly at the same time.  My eyes saw a person they did not recognize. I thought about where my kids would go. I was certain that you were going to kill me.

The next day, I was asked why mommy had yelled in the middle of the night. You told me that you were so sorry and you could barely remember it. I barely remember my parents raping me, so it’s okay, right?

I’m not perfect. I cheated on you. I admitted this to you. I will not make any excuses to the world, but we both know it wasn’t the worst thing to happen to this relationship. Was it the worst thing I’ve ever done? YES. Was it the worst thing you ever did? No. How your words cut deep. How your actions have left never healing scars. All the girls you have cheated on me with? They don’t count because of reasons, right?

I’m angry. I’m hostile. I live for one thing. And that one thing is jeopardized by you. You told me you loved me. You lied. You cheated. You robbed me of the life I dreamt of. I have a hell hanging over the fibers of my being. I thought it would change. I thought it would get better, and it did. For a while.

The world sometimes works against the small people working the hardest. This has been an ongoing lesson I’ve learned. My reputation will soon be splattered, and you, you will walk away without a scratch. Just like you always have.

You are the master of skating by in life. I have to work so hard it looks like I am in a constant state of no motion. If I skate, I crash. When I crash, it’s not a fender bender; it’s a fiery blast of destructive misery.

The big black hole is the epitome of my soul when it comes to you. I hurt to admit it. I hurt to say it. When you are good, when I am good; it is very good.

When it is bad, it is horrid. I do not want to fear you. I am tired of fear. I want to love you… and before you think I am a heartless bitch, I DO love you. I love you beyond reason. If there were any sane reason behind the love I hold for you, we would not be where we are. However, I am not in love with you. Sometimes, I look at you and I wonder why. Sometimes I cannot stand coming home because you bring me down.

You do not name call, you do not belittle, but you are depressing. Nothing was good today. Nothing good came of anything in your life. I am not willing to deal with your problems when I have so many of my own.

This, I know, is harsh, but this is TRUTH.

I cannot remember the last time we slept in the same bed. You say, “Oh the kids want to sleep in our bed.” This is fine by me… but why are you worthy enough to sleep in our bed with our children, but I cannot?
What makes you more important than me?

Last night I laid down next to our youngest son. You were in the living room. You came to the bedroom and saw me on your side of the bed. You literally threw a child’s fit.
Don’t deny this.
You do not have to say words to throw a fit.
“Are you for real?”
Irritation.
Annoyance.
Throwing you phone charger on the counter.
Storming out of the room.
Leaving the house to smoke a cigarette.

That is a man-fit. I don’t like it. I don’t appreciate it. I sleep on the couch. I work many more hours than you, plus I am in school attempting to get a degree to better myself, but I’m not worthy of sleeping in OUR bed for a night.

I hate entitlement. You are the epitome of an entitled individual. Some days, after work, I don’t want to come home. I want to see my children… but I hate hearing you bring my mood down. I hate being that person. I don’t want to hear about your job… because it’s always bad news. And the girls… why are they texting, calling, and Facebook messaging you? Constantly. Just stop. You are pushing me away.

At the end of the day. It isn’t your fault. It’s not my fault. We are just not good for each other.  So now, when do we finalize this realization?

If I approach you first, when will you throw that first punch? When will you slam me against the wall? When will you choke me? When will you threaten me with, “You will never see these boys again?” When will you tell me that I’ll have to pay child support to you? When will the blackmail begin? When will you use the things I fear the most against me? You have threatened to do it all. You are incapable of a peaceful parting of ways.

Of this I am certain. Is this how you will keep me forever? To keep me fearing? Scared? Panicked?

I want out. I most certainly need a break. You are incapable of trust. Even when I was perfect, before the man who showed me your true colors, you were incapable of trust. Are you worried that if we take a break I will not come back?

I would be too.

Signed,

The One that Cannot Get Away.

 

 

Relationships · Uncategorized

Exhausted

I’m so tired. I’m physically tired, emotionally tired, and I’m tired of being tired.
I miss my friends.
I miss going out.
I miss having time with other adults.
I miss intellectual discussion.

Don’t get me started on this relationship. Awkward and hard.
I can’t have sex.
Is that weird? I think it is the stress or something. I just don’t want to and when I think about it, it actually grosses me out.
When did this happen to me?
I want to feel wanted. I want to be loved. I don’t want to have sex.

Seriously, I am simply frustrated. With almost every little thing you do. In fact, I’m not sure why you do half the shit you do. Tell me.
I use you. I do.
I talk to you about my day. I talk to you about my day. My stress. My life.
I want you to talk about yours.
But then you drone. You suck happiness from me and you replace it with irritation and annoyance.

It’s not you, babe. It’s me. I can’t help it. I love you with all my being, but I hate you. I don’t want to have sex with you. I don’t want to cuddle. I don’t want to kiss you.

Why have we always been in the negative? Why do we always have to fight? Money is the root of all evil.
We don’t talk. Do we have common interest?
I am convinced couples who make 6 figures are the only people who can be happy.

Money does buy happiness. Without it, we resort to what? Watching the game and alcohol? You cannot control your alcohol… I’ve held the bruises with my flesh for a short while, but in my heart forever. I do not blame you, but I cannot heal. It’s too much. I struggle with healing because with the exception of a couple friends, no one in my ENTIRE life has ever not hurt me.

No, I’m not talking about small hurts. I’m talking about the big ones. The sex isn’t you. In fact, I wish I could have sex. I wish I wanted to enjoy it. The dreams are terrible. The dreams of the people I was supposed to trust and love, touching me, and looking at me… I can seriously taste vomit in the back of my throat.

I know losing my innocence young is not your fault. I know that life with you and our children is good, but I am struggling with touching you. I don’t want you to touch me. I don’t want anyone to. If the dreams would stop, it would get better. If my anger would subside. If I could just stop crying about it when the images won’t stop.

I’m resentful. Almost to everyone who has ever hurt me. Sometimes, I resent you. I resent some situations I was put in because of your actions. I resent feeling like I needed you to survive. I resent placing my own wants and needs on the back burner because I loved you. Basically, I resent myself for the decisions I have made.

And the need…. the need to be better, to do better, to offer my children a sense of what I never had. I know they have a million, trillion things I never had including the basics; i.e., safety, comfort, respect for themselves, respect for others, nice clothes, education, love, and support. We need to do better though. We are getting through parenting at a “B” level, we need an “A” anything less is an excuse. We need a B+ at least.

B is for “But.”

But why do we struggle? I work two jobs and you work one. Half the time we cannot buy groceries, and the cars we drive are always falling apart. I buy everything the boys have at second hand rates. I own nothing that boasts of a high class brand on my back. I care what people think and this often drives me.

Is it money? IS it self-help? Is it Iowa? Is it these people we are surrounded by?

What are we doing wrong? Am I broken? Are we?

I’m exhausted. I need to nap and I wish there was something I could do. So, until then I’m going to smile, work, blow off plans, work some more, and keep smiling.
What happens when you start losing interest in the robot I’ve become? What happens when I break? There are too many questions and no clear answers. Take it one day at a time. You can’t control the future so don’t think about it.

Smile. Work. Blow off Plans. Work. Smile. Repeat.

College Life · Uncategorized

I’m an idiot.

I’m taking my very first on campus class this semester. Let me tell you… On campus is SO much easier than online. You barely have to manage anything. Quite honestly, you simply show up. The instructors, meh, I’d rather imagine they are asshats or weirdos than actually physically see them being weird. My instructor isn’t bad, but he’s quirky. Odd sense of humor. Makes us do weird shit sometimes.

Nothing sexual. Just for clarification.

The downside? Umm. Well, I’m taking public speaking. So maybe that makes it the “downside” overall. The downside is the stupid social shit. I’m twenty-fucking-seven. Guess what? I’m the oldest person in that damn class. I don’t like it. I am now, officially, on crunch time to get my degree faster. Do I want to be that 40-year-old sitting in a room full of 20 year olds while they talk about the hilarious thing their dad did last night?

NO.

I’m lucky because I started using Bare Minerals and girl, let me tell you. I look 7 years younger. Matter of fact, Mr. Public Speaking Instructor asked if anyone had any kids by a show of hands, immediately followed up with a, “probably not.” naturally I raise my hand and he asked me how old my child was. I proceed to tell him their ages. All three of them. His jaw drops to the floor and he exclaims, “How old were you when you started having kids? Twelve?”

Mortified. Thanks Bare Minerals. Now I’m a whore, too.

Today he had us do this exercise called Babble where we pick a card with a random word on it and we talk about the word for one minute. Sounds easy, eh? NO. The universe hates me. Someone got spider. Someone got snow. You know what I got?

Sausage.

Fucking sausage. Are you fucking kidding me right now? It was terrible. What the fuck do you say about sausage? The first thing that came to mind was “dick”. So, here I am… holding a card that says “Sausage” on it in big bold letters, thinking about dick.

Cool. That sounds about right from the girl who started popping out babies at 12. Thanks Bare Minerals.

Anyways, I fumble through it. Instead of talking about sausage… types of sausage, how to cook it, etc.,; I fucking made up a story about sausage and bacon. Made zero sense and quite honestly, I looked like an imbecile.

It’s the way my brain cycles. I swear I fuvking think backwards. I’m like mildly autistic or some shit. It can only go up from here. They’ve seen how fucking moronic I am. Hopefully they forget by Wednesday.

Fuck.

cats · Mom Life · Uncategorized

The CatMom Life

Cats…. Oh my.   Listen, if you have anxiety and have cats, take a shitload of pills and pass the fuck out. If you don’t, BAM. You are going to think there is a serial killer in your walls. Seriously.

How do they do that?

How do they bounce off the walls but sound like they are inside of the wall?

And then, right when you think you’ve got this anxiety shit down, you hear foot steps. You were right! You were right! It wasn’t the cats, it’s a serial killer. This is it. Your life is over. Oh shit, kibbles and bits.

And then your five year old rounds the corner at 2 AM.
WHY ARE YOU EVEN AWAKE, BRO?
Can’t you see mommy is having a mental breakdown?

Well, shit, if your going to be awake come cuddle with me.

The cats won’t.

Being Nice · Friendship · Relationships · Self-Recognition and Admiration · Sex

Whorish Tendencies

Okay. Here’s the deal. We have all had that one person, right? The words don’t accurately express the definition of the relationship in its entirety.

Obsession. Infatuation. Boredom compelled lust.

An uneducated and ill-versed individual would perhaps use the term “love”. However, the person who uses this term is a fucking idiot.

The point of this annoying-as-fuck blog post is to point out how ridiculous human beings are on emotional, sentimental levels.

We cling to a person who makes us feel good. We may use another person to “make us feel good” … know what I’m saying?
Let me break it down for you in the simplest way possible.
Being in a comfortable relationship and having sexual contentment are two entirely different issues.

It would stand that two issues could be in need of two very different individuals.

You could juggle a spouse and a side chick/dick.
But society tends to frown on this way of living… And hold the phone! Let me just rant about how fucking STUPID that is.

1.)  Having more than one partner is a sin. Oh, SHUT THE FUCK UP already. Bitch! You sin everyday. In fact, the list of reasons your make believe daddy in the sky is going to send you to hell, is always accruing time and reasons. Kind of like interest on a car loan. You only live once… I don’t know why you wouldn’t want to get laid. Fucking freak.

2.) But I don’t believe in God. I think it’s just morally wrong. You know what’s morally wrong? Your fucking face! If you understood the principles of ethics at all, you wouldn’t say things like, “OMG Janet, that is like, sooooo morally wrong.”
Let me tell you something. Remember that time you watched Magic Mike and your lady bits tingled a bit? Outside of your relationship! *gasp* You are fucking morally deranged, yo.

(Just because you don’t act on it, doesn’t mean it isn’t all over your Medulla Oblongata.)

3.) Why would you cheat? Why not just leave your Significant other? Listen Linda, have you not heard the words I’ve been saying? I’m fucking comfortable. However, “comfortable” doesn’t really take the edge off my horny, know what I’m saying?

4.) Well you sound like a whore. Ehhh… you say tomayto, I say tomahto. I’m sorry that you aren’t comfortable with your sexuality. I know when I’m 50 I’m gonna have no ragrats for all the flavors I’ve tried. Meanwhile, you’ve been sipping on the same cruelty free, BPA free, natural, all-organic bottle of coconut water since 2007. Get the fuck outta here.

Annnnnnd, let’s face it. If its all up in your Medulla Oblongata already, then you might as well act on it. Live it up a little.
Get yo freak on.
YOLO.

Since you’re still reading this so far… let me give you a little something…

PRO-TIP: Leave the obsession and infatuation in the dust. Fuel yourself on that lust compelled through boredom. In the end, it makes it easier to enjoy yourself.

Or just be a prudent pile of no fun like Linda over there… but, if you choose that route;
You can’t sit with us.

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Fertility

Bunnies and Fertility

I was driving last night. As I crossed the viaduct, a bunny popped out of no where. I braked, but I heard the thump. My kindred soul couldn’t drive away without knowing, so I turned around to check.

This was the worst decision I could have made. The bunny was still alive and struggling to get off of the road. His death was imminent. My stomach churns as I write this. This one incident has wrecked my entire week and, unfortunately, has wrecked his entire life.

Now, coming from someone who feels like she has deep ties in the Pagan world, I associate bunnies with my own fertility and I have a great admiration for the goddess, Eostre. Yesterday was April 28th, which means we are right in the midst of the Earth’s Annual period of Rebirth. In my mind, having a bunny die by my fault in this particular period, is a bad omen.

Perhaps, I am overly worried and thinking about it entirely too much; but I can assure you, there is a good reason behind my overly cautious demeanor. I’ll tell you.
In the past 5 months, we have lost two, super precious, super loved babies. Our first one passed away from Bradycardia caused by a subchorionic hematoma. Our second, with a strong heartbeat, was lost to another subchorionic hematoma. Our latest lost was just a short 5 weeks ago.

When I drove back to check on the bunny, he was struggling, and I imagined that my babies and him had the same experience when they were facing their demise. I imagined, as my babies started losing oxygen and blood flow from the bleed, they would have been struggling to get as close to their placenta as they could to draw from it the necessities they needed to sustain life. In the bunny’s case, it was the edge of the road he must get to to sustain life. If only he could reach the hedge that had fed him merely hours before…

So, my anxiety sets in. I worry about the Karma of the world. Yes, a Buddhist theory, but not too far from Wiccan practices or Pagan beliefs. Does this mean my womb will never bring life to a beautiful, miniature, human again? What can I do to right the wrongness of my ways? Is there something I can give back? Is there balance to be had; the Ying and Yang of things?

Then I found some peace within myself. How else could I apologize to Mother Earth when I took a piece of her? It came to me in that instance; I could give a piece of me to Her. So tomorrow,  we will be planting a tree, and underneath that tree will go the last baby we lost. This tree will represent the lives that we love, the lives that we’ve lost, and it will honor the Earth’s Annual Period of Rebirth.

Our fertility is represented by the bunny, and the love within rebirth is held in the hands of the goddess Eostre. I can only hope that She accepts my gift and feels my remorse within the love I am giving Her back. I know, that Her and I think alike, because we are one, and we share a deep love for the precious souls that have left the season of Rebirth far before their time.

Friendship · Relationships

Lovers And Friends

Isn’t it strange how the human mind can filter emotion? Most people who know you think they know exactly who you are, but there is always that one thing you never let people in on. Even your most loved ones will never fully know the true you. They may think they do, but the don’t. Not completely, any ways.

We sit and we put our hearts and souls into our relationships. We try hard and then we get comments from our friends like, “well I really love my significant other” or “If you don’t love him, why aren’t you leaving him?”

They don’t see the ugly tears you shed on a daily basis. They don’t hear the silence you endure in the evenings. They don’t know how much you love and admire this person because you don’t open up about it. If you did open up, there would be an endless banter of how you can fix it followed up with the notoriously biased,  “but, seriously, why would you want to?

“He doesn’t support your hopes and dreams, so why would you stay with him?”
“You guys are terrible for each other”.
and then the dreaded….
“I can’t stand him”.

Good for you, friend. Let me tell you… I CAN stand him. In fact, I fucking love him. And being happy and feeling loved are two entirely different plays on the field of love. You didn’t love him through the worst and the best. You didn’t carry his babies, cry on his shoulder, or watch him drift away.
He didn’t cheat on you, and in return you didn’t cheat on him.
You didn’t work through what we have worked through so far, so why is there a need to be passive aggressive?

Friend, I love you unconditionally. As I do all my friends. Sure, you annoy me with the shitty decisions you make sometimes or the crappy remarks you make, and yep, I vent about you to my other friends; but at the end of the day, I still love you unconditionally.
I don’t like very many of your friends, and quite honestly, some of the people you love? Yeah, I can’t stand them. But I won’t say it, because I respect who you are and what you choose to do.

Want to cheat? I’ll be here to support whatever the outcome is.
You want to leave your boyfriend? I’ll stand next to you on the days you miss him the most.
I might say, “I told you so”, but I’ll wrap my love around you and make sure you are okay.

Finding someone who loves you unconditionally is a rarity. There are days I wonder if anyone does. So, I speak about my life in a flippant way. I may even say some borderline bad things, (let’s admit, there may be a good reason people side eye him, and if I didn’t side eye him a little too, there would be some judgement on my character as well), but deep down inside I love my person as much as you love your people.

I get a little crazy. I obsess over a favorite of mine, and I know, that looks insane. But, if I don’t focus on something… anything… I go crazy. My mind wanders and I’m the only person in a room full of people. I’m alone, desolate, and I have lost the foundation to my life.

Please know, that just because your friend seems happy all the time (and a little crazy too), there’s more going on and maybe it’s a front. A cover-up. A show. Maybe it is who she is? Do you even know her really?

I don’t think you do.
Do not pass go, and do not collect $200.

Matter fact, Game Over.
Insert 2 tokens to continue.

Being Nice · Relationships · Self-Recognition and Admiration

We Didn’t Realize That’s Who You Were

Here I am. Thinking this guy is like a well-rounded individual. He coaches Little League for fucks sake! He sports Under Armour and seems like a good dad. He owns like, 7 vehicles. But, then you see it. The crazy.
The abusive tendencies.
The alcohol consumption. Is it excessive? I don’t know. What I do know is that this guy that seemed like the community based dad of the fucking year, turns out to be crazily attached to one particular girl, while using other girls, and shitting in a bucket.

Yes, I said shitting in a bucket.

Underneath that Under Armour and behind those seven vehicles he owns, this guy lives in a garage and shits in a bucket.

I haven’t figured out how he showers yet. He seems like he would shower. He doesn’t seem like a scrub, but now I can’t not call him a scrub because he shits in a bucket. And that’s… Well, that’s just fucking wrong man.

A fucking bucket.

I guess I just can’t wrap my head around that. And, no, before you start getting all sanctimonious over your morals, ethics, and ideals… let me tell you that I’m not just throwing some poor bastard under the bus on an economic/financial level. He works a full time job. He’s a dad so I’m sure that might put a little dent in the ol’ checkbook, but he works full-time and no, it’s not a minimum wage job. You know where his favorite place to hang out is?  The bar. I bet the majority of his paychecks go there, when they could go to some fucking plumbing.

I’m sure you’re wondering why I am even wasting my time talking about this guy that shits in buckets, and I’m getting there.

This guy appears, key word appears, to be a nice guy. A good dad, a hard-worker, a generally respected member of the community, right? But he’s not all those things. I can’t vouch for what kind of father he is, and quite honestly, I do think he is  a hard-worker. What I can say, from my perspective, is that he is an alcoholic and a womanizer.

Now, I believe that alcoholism is an illness. Just like cancer and depression are. I can’t hold people at fault for being addicted to anything. I know it’s originally a conscience decision. Eventually, one drink, becomes 2, 2 become 3, and next thing you know those drinks become a nightly thing. I can’t guarantee it, but I would guess that there is always an underlying issue as to why the addiction begins in the first place.
Was he abused as a child? Is he depressed over a break-up? Was he hurt so deeply that the alcohol is the only thing that numbs the pain enough so he can function on a daily basis? So, this is me, being empathetic.

Okay, so here comes the part that encouraged me to blog about this guy. He’s obsessed with a girl, but fucks with the minds and hearts of other girls.

JUST STOP!

That’s what I want to scream at him! ^^^
Adding pain and suffering on top of your own pain and suffering isn’t going to make you feel better, so why do it?
More importantly, why do we let guys do it? Why do we take what they say with so much trust and belief? Is it because we want to believe that someone could love us and care about us the way it, ever so easily, rolls off their tongues?

I’ll tell you why we do it.

We search for the best in people. We want to help them. We want to find all of the nurturing qualities available to us and deflect them on to someone else in a helpful way. We want to love without limits and we want other people to feel good about it.
Love is a game; You are going to win some, you are going to lose some. That’s okay. What’s not okay is purposely hurting people, or unintentional bouncing two women around.

So, I say to you bucket-shitter;
I get it, maybe your feelings are hurt. Maybe you are confused… But that does not give you the right to make decisions that have a negative impact on people who care about you.

It’s better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all.

Uh, not in this situation.

It’s never worth loving someone who is going to bounce between you and another person. So, maybe this guy will grow up, but maybe he won’t. You never know. I think the first order of business should be focusing on obtaining proper plumbing.