Post 100 Random Thoughts

That is the only word to describe my escalating emotions. I’ve been such a good girl, stuffing down all of my anger and hurt and frustrations for the past 30 years. I turned the rage inwards, punishing myself for letting all of the bad shit happen to me—as if, somehow, all of this has been my fault. I learned to expect so very little out of life and oh how little it delivered. I’ve tried to balance this out by recognizing all the good achieved in spite of all the obstacles, but I’m so angry all the time now. My jaw aches from the tension of clenched teeth keeping the screams inside.

The depression was such a good buffer, lulling me into a blase state of mind until I just didn’t give a fuck anymore and very nearly let go permanently. Due to the nasal surgery last autumn, though, the depression is gone and now I’m feeling everything full force. And what I am feeling is PISSED OFF.

I’m angry at those motherfucking assholes who hurt the innocent girl. And the ones that stood by and let it happen. I’m angry at the ones that trapped and tortured the helpless teen. I’m angry at my father who just threw me away when he left. I’m angry at my mother who, even though she actually stayed, abandoned me (us) too. I’m angry at ALL of them for completely screwing up any chance of me being goddamn normal, and turning me into a fucking cliche.

Most of all I’m angry at myself. I know, logically, that the things that happened to me were not my fault but I just can’t seem to believe it. I have spent my whole life maintaining these defenses to keep the hurt out only to discover that what I did was wall the hurt IN. I let people take advantage of me and accepted the continued run of ‘bad luck’ because I didn’t think I deserved any better. That is so fucked up.

I’m frustrated that I cannot just LET GO of this shit. I hate that I take a baby step forward only to find myself figuratively huddled in the corner rocking myself to sleep. I want to stop feeling guilty for standing up for myself. I want to be able to protect myself the way I protect all of my loved ones. I want to be able to look at men clearly, cleanly, normally. I want to forget. I want to swear. I want to shout. I want to PUNCH THINGS. I want to make something hurt, make something else take this pain, I’ve had it long enough. Enough!

Somebody found a photo of mine on flickr that they really liked. Complimented me on it extensively and said they’d like to print it for their living room. I remembered I have a paypal account set up (for the occasional selling of crap on ebay), named a price and had them transfer money to that account. They agreed to the license restriction, made the payment instantly, and I forwarded their print. Few hundred more of these and I’m in business!

I’m very excited about the tickets I got today—bargain train to Inverness on the 24th Jan. I’m going up north for a flickr meetup and saved a buttload by buying my ticket in advance. It’s nice to have a trip to look forward to, even more exciting because I’ll be wandering about with my totally awesome camera.

sigh.

I’d heard that KLM sucks and always loses luggage, but now that I have experienced it for myself I can tell you it is absolutely true. Not only will they lose your luggage, they will tell you that it has been found and will be delivered, only that is a lie. They will then give you a telephone number for a courier service that supposedly has your bag, but no one will answer that line. Then, the number they give you to file a formal complaint won’t really be the complaint line either, but another customer help line for baggage. And THOSE people won’t have the right fucking information either, and will refer you to the internet to find the address for filing a complaint which would be another fucking waste of my fucking time and I am so fucking angry right now.

I understand shit happens, so I was patient with all the flight delays. I was patient when my box arrived, but opened and covered in motor oil and with a boxknife left inside. I was patient when they lost my bag and I waited in baggage claim for 2 hours to file a fucking report. I was patient when I phoned yesterday and was told my bag would be delivered last night. I was still patient when, as the night wore on and it didn’t show, I was unable to get thru to find out the status. I was even patient when they closed at 10pm and I still couldn’t get an update on my bag. I was even patient this morning after waiting up all night for the fucking delivery guys. But now, NOW I AM PISSED.

Sistah and I got pedicures today and it has been so long since I’d had one that I’ve apparently lost my tickle tolerance. Still, I do love my pretty red toes!

Afterwards we stopped at Valhalla for lunch & drinks, went home to pick up the dog, and then headed back out to Northgate Mall so I could exchange their scissors for their knives (we all bought scissors for my sisters, so I volunteered to do the return/exchange). Somehow, between the knife shop and Barnes&Nobles, I managed to slip into LB and buy myself a cute jacket, white blouse, and black top for work. After that I spent all but $2.11 of my gift certificate at B&N and sweet jayzus I’m gonna need to utilise every angle of my creative packing skillz to get all this shit home.

One last day and this trip is over. That makes me sad because I hate leaving my sisters and Miss Molly, but I’m also excited because I’ve got some cool stuff to bring home and can’t wait to put some of my decorating plans into action.

Happy New Year indeed.

One of my friends, while oh so younger, is still very similar to me when it comes to social habits. In other words, she doesn’t get out much either and when she does it’s a safe outing that doesn’t expose her to the real world. Bleh. So the other night at the bad bar I talked my friend into accepting a 2009 Challenge. Each month we challenge the other to complete a certain task. Nothing illegal, or involving children or animals (pervs), and it cannot fall outside our moral code.

For January we gave each other the same challenge: join an online dating service and wink at 25 guys. She’s ALREADY joined and winked at 5. Yikes! I’ve got to get a photo and write a profile and oh lordy the trouble I get myself into.

Next up I have to figure out which part of me is getting pierced…

Time really does fly when you’re not at work—just hanging out with my sisters, staying inside and watching the snow melt and I’ve managed to zip through 5 days of my holiday already.

I’ve gone shopping long enough to pick up the 2 main items I wanted to take back with me (flannel sheets and cutlery) but might swing by Target for one more quick run. The GBP isn’t great against the dollar right now, but the prices on many items still make the shopping a good deal. I have a 2 suitcase allowance on the flight(s), might as well make good use of it…

I don’t (normally) like to go out on New Years Eve. When I was (much) younger I was the designated driver for the evening, carting around all my drunk friends to parties and it was MY fucking car that received a hit-n-run massive dent in the door—and not one single ‘friend’ offered to pony up some cash for the fix. Fuckers.

Ever since then I have preferred to buy some pizza and junk food and pop in the the familiar movies while I clean and organize my house. By 10pm I’ve pulled everything out from every cupboard and drawer and the place looks like a bomb went off but by the time the New Year rings in everything has been sorted and tidied and I begin the year fresh and with lots of stuff boxed up for the charity shop.

This year I have not one, but THREE different offers. 1) go with one sister to a friend’s place and watch the Space Needle fireworks display, 2) go with the other sister to her friend’s place and take photos of the Space Needle fireworks display, or 3) go with my friends to the bad bar and have to see him. Have to talk to him. Touch him. And leave him. Again.

I wonder if I could talk a sister into just letting me stay in and clean their house?

what IS it about being in Seattle that makes me behave like I’m 20 and on Spring break? I don’t do this when I go on holiday to other countries, so why here?

I had every intention of avoiding the bad bar, with the bad boys, and especially doing those bad, bad things and yet before I knew what was happening there I was.

If only being bad wasn’t something I was so good at ;-D

it was a bit tricky walking the dog yesterday, but both of us were needing to work off some of that cabin fever energy so I finally gave up and took Molly to the back yard where I chased her and then threw snowballs at her (she tries to catch them in her mouth).

Once sufficiently wet (me) and sufficiently pooped & peed (her), we went inside and had a nice hot beverage (me) and a cookie (us) and then lay in front of the fire licking our ass (do I really need to say her?).

good times.