Too many mental tabs open today.

Wednesday, March 7, 2018

Brick House of Cards

I pride myself on my ability to read people. I'm usually pretty accurate but today I realized something that has been in my face for years. It wasn't an "Ah-ha!" moment either, more like a "Wow, I'm an idiot!" kind of thing

The cliche ton of bricks hit me on the head while I was out walking my dog. Luckily she's so cute and I was distracted from my figurative head wound.

Now I feel like so many things make sense, like a reverse house of cards, they are all falling into place so clearly.

Adulting hard today.

Tuesday, March 6, 2018

No speed limit

So I realized today that I can go from being completely upset, hurt feeling and all, to not giving a shit in less than 24 hours. The things that hurt me, really hurt too, sit with me, I dissect them. Mull over them and rather quickly decide what to do with them. This time I decided that honestly, I just don't care. I can brush myself off and move on like a boss. I know who I am and I know my value. If I'm not valued that's OK, you probably don't deserve me anyway. No conceit, just reality. I get that I'm a lot to deal with. Hot headed Gemini chicks usually are.

Does that mean I am on my way to adulting? Maybe.

More than maybe.

Monday, March 5, 2018


I don't lie, mainly because it's just another thing to have to remember. I will however, tell small untruths to spare feelings but for the most part I am pretty honest. My life is usually an open book and that's OK. It's pretty boring anyway, who would care. If I had anything to actually hide I'd probably just tell everyone because at least it's something interesting.

Lately I feel like people around me are not being truthful, calling anyone out on this is useless. I look for actions to find the truth. Hiding and avoidance are telltale well, tells. If you can look me in the eye and with absolute confidence say your truth then that's all I need.

 Like Larry David.

If you make excuses, get mad at me for your untruths or simply disappear then I know your truth or lie. It's that easy.



Hide and reek

What is the deal with people hiding behind excuses and vices as a way to be a truly vile person? Friends who act like bitches and then blame it on PMS. Husbands who lash out at children because they are under deadlines. To me, the worst of these are the fine folks who go to church on Sunday and then hurl insults and hate with a sweet smile. Like going to church makes you a decent person. That's like saying walking into a restaurant makes you a chef. I sat at my car dealer last week, should I call myself a mechanic?

Do us all a favor, either listen to the words of the bible and shut the fuck up or stop hiding behind a place of worship and just out yourself as an asshole.


Saturday, February 24, 2018

I see the light!

Small rant or funny story from yesterday.

After spending the day watching movies on my couch while I tried to update my website I told my mother I was dropping my kid off at the mall and we were going to walk around and wait for her. It gives her a chance to get outside and saves me from driving back and forth (and back and forth). My kid was pissed, I mean what's more embarrassing than your mom at the same mall? You mom and almost cartoon like grandmother. It was an ugly fight which I took in 12 rounds.

So we drop off the kid and make our way into the mall (a giant outdoor shopping mecca that's actually really cool, a personal favorite) After about five minutes it's clear that my mother doesn't want to be there and she feels sick (which might just be from the fresh air her body lacks) so I ask if she wants to leave. She does. Great. Now I need to let the kid know and find a way home for her. I'm so pissed at this point because I fought for this mall trip. Wasted energy.

I throw my purse in the back seat and plot my way home on the now jammed surface streets. I turn onto Santa Monica Boulevard and I am immediately blinded by the sun. My already light sensitive eyes cannot deal with this and I literally cannot see a thing. I yell "SHIT!" quite loudly and tell my mother that I can't see a thing, she reaches into her purse, grabs her sunglasses and puts them on (her). Doesn't say a word. I cut over the right and pull over. She asks why and I tell her that I can't see. I blindly search for my purse in the back seat and find my sunglasses, get back into traffic and drive home.

This reminds me of the flight safety instructions: Put your own oxygen mask on before helping others. I truly believe that my mother took her life motto from that but only heard the first part.

This shit only happens to me.

Friday, February 23, 2018

Family picks.

So my mom is visiting. In a normal person's life this would be a good thing, a fun thing, a visit. In my ridiculous life it's like an unpaid babysitting job. I grew up in one of those homes where the kid raised the mom. I was free range and latch keyed. But not free range where I had fun and got to explore. More like I was out there on my own figuring it out by myself. Good times.

So now I get to sit around and do nothing as I hear how hard raising a teen is because she was a difficult teen. In all the stories I hear the references to children are about her and her sister. Never about me. Ever. Not once. Not kidding.

So I let her sleep in my recently done over bedroom, my sanctuary. My perfect zen space which I am quite proud of. She walks in and doesn't notice a thing. Nothing unusual there. This morning after she wakes up she says she has a question and we look at my memory board (like the one in the photo) I have memories of concerts, events, political stickers and other various things I find cool. She points to an old family picture of her, my dad, my sister and me. I love this picture  not for the memory (I don't remember it) but for the 70s awesomeness. It is also the only picture I think I have of the four of us. Never a happy family the pic is just cool. The closest I have to normal.

So anyways, she points to the picture and I'm waiting for it, a memory, a story, a something! Nope, she proceeds to tell me that she remembers taking the pic because she remembers buying her outfit. Yup. That's it. The only thing she had to say about my perfect zen bedroom is that she remembers the outfit she wore in a tiny picture.

I just keep quiet. It's not worth it. Hold your breath and it will be over soon.

I tried to talk my husband about why I don't bother and he said I was still angry. Nope. No anger, just sadness and a complete lack of understanding how a person lives a life with her head in clouds.

For now I will keep my stories to myself and put them here because it's like talking to audience even if that audience is me. I'm an awesome listener.

Wednesday, February 21, 2018

R-E-S-P-E-C--- Bite me.

Why do people demand and expect respect based on age, relationship or title? Why do I have to respect someone just because they are older than me? When did that become a thing? Why is it rude when I treat someone older the same way they treat me? If someone older is a shit to me it's OK? No way. Tired of that. I don't give a crap how old a person is, anyone treating me with respect will be respected and anyone treating me like shit will, well, you know. I feel the same way with my kid. If you aren't respectful to her, she is going to react in kind. If you are interested in her life, she will reward you with an invitation to her world.

Demanding respect because of your position on a family tree? Sorry but that shit went the way of land lines and dial up.

That is all.

Saturday, February 17, 2018

So go then.

I used to think moms who left their kids were terrible awful people. Then my daughter hit the teen years and I found myself wondering what life on the run would be like.

On a daily basis I hear how stupid, dumb, lazy and boring I am. I hear that I ruin everything, make life suck and generally exist to make her life awful. Then she needs something and I become number 1 mommy again. I just heard that I wasn't wanted at a volleyball tournament because she is embarrassed by both parents together. We suck as a duo. I mean we suck separately but are worse together.  It's harder to pin us against each other when we both there. How do parents keep their shit together? Is this the reason for so many broken marriages and affairs? Do they beat us down to the point that we are incapable of being fixed?

Parents before us weren't as involved and while we were a handful we were never like today's teens. I believe this is the punishment for caring. Parents put their kids on meds at an alarming rate and I believe it's to stop the emotional abuse we are experiencing. I never realized that.

So I'm damned no matter what I do.

Apparently I am free tomorrow, anyone want to meet for brunch?

Monday, February 12, 2018

Social media? No thanks, I prefer mine to be anti-social.

So after the election my Facebook page turned into a political rant page.  Then I found solace and safety in a few private groups but I still posted my feelings. Realizing that it was pointless I took it to Twitter. I really enjoyed the resistance community I found there and was happy with the safe space that was created for our political angst. Recently someone asked my husband if I was OK because my tweets were troubling. So now I have no safe space? I guess that's why I came back here. While it is a public site and potentially I could reach millions, I know it's just me. That's OK. It gives me time to remember all my passwords so I can get new accounts and go back to doing what I want without judgement.

This shit only happens to me.

Spy where

Sometimes I feel the need to look around for hidden cameras. I've written this before but some days are so full of next level shit it can't possibly be real.

If it's real I need to stop asking "what else can happen?" because one day I'm going shake my head (in that way I always shake my head) and it's going to snap off and roll away.

That would be a wicked series finale wouldn't it?

Wednesday, February 7, 2018

Omission impossible

Suppose last night for dinner I had a salad. Then later that same night I ate a six pack of Cinnabons. The next day when someone asked what I ate and I said a salad technically it's the truth right? Lies of omission are still lies but they protect us from looking bad or behaving in ways we shouldn't but who does that protect?

Just some thoughts in my head today.

and no, I didn't have any Cinnabons. Just some organic butter free popcorn which sucked.


Tuesday, February 6, 2018

There goes my hero

My dog.

She's my secret keeper.
She's my most loyal companion.
She's the best friend I have ever had.
She's my protector.

Unless there's a vacuum visible or you open a bag of chips. Then she's hiding under a bed.

Friday, February 2, 2018

Truth hurts. So?

Sometimes who you seek when you need advice matters more than what they say. When you go to someone who will always take your side you lose. Every time. Doesn't even matter what they say.  You might as well talk to yourself, it does less damage. Getting a false sense of what is right can be dangerous. A true friend or ally is the one that tells you the truth and not what you want to hear. If you find yourself going to the same person over and over it's not because you trust them. It's because you are weak and need validation. These people are the ones in the same situation year after year.

That concludes my rant of the day.

Monday, January 29, 2018


I'm not a morning person but my favorite time of the day is 6:30AM - 6:40AM. The time that I wake up, crawl into bed with my daughter to wake her up and then snooze for ten wonderful minutes. In those marvelous minutes my child is a half asleep snuggling hugging angel. Smiling while getting those last minute dreams in before life snatches the serenity away.

The good news is that I get that every day.

Who says snoozing is bad?

Eye love you!

You know what be great? If someone looked at me the way my dog does (this is NOT my dog, she won't sit still long enough for a picture.)

Seriously, he sweet and trusting eyes only looking for a smile or a rub from me. It's the greatest feeling in the world.


Saturday, January 27, 2018

Sign of the times

I saw this and time slowed down. This is the real state of our union. Shame on anyone supporting the vile and repulsive agenda of this administration.

Teen terror

Teens are like emotional terrorists going in for the kill one minute and then saying how much they love you the next. What prepares one for this stage? Vodka? Wine? Medically induced coma?

I'll take all three please.

Friday, January 26, 2018

Being private in public

So I dusted off this blog because it used to give me solace when I just couldn't take things anymore. Then I healed and found talking to actual people was pretty helpful. Not that I had a huge audience but I had my peeps. Now I'm writing to no one which suits me just fine since I spend a good portion of the day talking to myself. I can say whatever I want with no backlash. I can say things like:

My daughter, once an angel child, is verbally abusive and at times barely resembles the sweet girl I once adored.

While I love having a dog (we got a dog) sometimes I get tired of walking her, feeding her and making sure she has water. Yes, I am completely smitten with her but sometimes mama just needs to be alone.

Sometimes I am so consumed with depression I can't breathe. Don't worry though, I'll still pack the school lunch and smile like I am the happiest woman in the world.

There's more but that's it for this second.

I'm back with a new voice.

Posted this badboy on Facebook today. After months of feeling like shit I was finally (self) diagnosed. I have an acute case of not being valued, heard and respected. It hurt like hell but at least a diagnosis will lead me to a cure. I'm tired of always being the one "there for you." Sometimes a call, text or email asking how I was would be nice. I only get a random bing or buzz when someone needs something. Headshots? Sure. Can't pay? I understand, I'm in a financial mess myself but on the rare chance someone did something for me you can bet your ass I would bend over backwards (or at least as far as my old body will move) and gush with thanks, flowers and perhaps a Starbucks card.

I get nothing.

Except a request for something else.

Today's rant over. Happy Friday.