kittycouture

I found this film, called “A Fable,” online but it cost $49. Not a goal worth fulfilling at this time, being unemployed w/3 kids and a WIC recipient.

There’s only one thing I’m scared of, and it’s….

Who cares?

At this point I appreciate my strange nose more than my stretchmarked, c-section-scarred, sagging, bountiful-skinned, twice-preggo stomach.

I may revise this to every museum in the Twin Cities, because I don’t really feel like driving to, say, Pipestone. I’ve been meaning to visit the Hennepin History Museum, the Museum of Russian Art and the Museum of Asmat art for some time now. But I suppose I will have to also visit more arcane sites like the Dakota County History Museum, the Museum of TV and Radio, and the Buford Museum of Design. Could be edifying. Shall I include historical sites as well, like the Alexander Ramsey house? Hmmm…we’ll see.

This will be handily accomplished if I can manage to stay alive for the next five months.

I don’t drive all that much. I don’t leave my house all that much.

Now, I did take 2 years of college Spanish. The problem with that is that for some reason in this country, language education sucks big dick. I once tried to blame teachers for being shitty and got yelled at for blaming teachers and not the system. Whatever, teachers and the system both suck.

Before you go saying that I’m just a shitty student, let me say that I was generally one of the best students in all my Spanish classes and got easy A’s. I’m not trying to brag, I’m just saying, language education in this country sucks big dick.

My only option as I see it is to go live in Cuba or one of those other Spanesque speaking countries. Fat chance yo.

Oh, what’s “real” anyway? Intellectually stimulating? Fulfilling? Or just some shit job with a low hourly wage?

My current job: Stay-at-home mom.

My previous jobs, in somewhat reverse chronological order:

Barista
Office hack (official title: program assistant)
Office hack (official title: data entrist)
Office hack (official title: receptionist)
Office hack (official title: administrative assistant assistant)
Office hack (official title: keyboard key coordinator)
Office hack (official title: alphabetical coordinator filing clerk’s sub-basement lackey’s errand-runner)
Waitress
Library hag
Professional starer
Telemarketer
U.S. Senator
um…Ice cream scooper
Hair sweeper
Newspaper deliverer

I have had some other jobs that I don’t care to go into. But you can see from the above resume why I am not too confident in my career future. A woman with no career past and a large gap in employment due to childbearing and -raising has no career future. She faces decades of toiling in menial positions. So why do I have this as a goal? Why don’t I just try to get an unconventional job, like freelance extreme sports journalist, or prison license plate detailer, or billionaire’s wife?

Maybe my real goal ought to be: FUCK WORK.

I am tense. I am tense right now and I was tense 5 minutes ago. As far as I can predict, according to prior evidence, I will be tense 5 minutes from now, unless I fall asleep from drunkenness. I am tense as a way of life.

I have, however, visited meditation centers. I have tried to calm down and find I only get more stressed out when I am trying not to be stressed out. Theoretically I believe in the goal of being calm. It sounds nice, no? A hobbled old monk who has eaten little in the past 60 years besides spring water and stale bread and the occasional green onion, sitting on a mountaintop with legs crossed and with no sense of humor and inability to converse on such contemporary topics as Britney Spears’ post K-fed fate….yet he is calm.

And this is what I aspire to?

I love to swear. Swearing is cool. It is one of my passions. Although I have been swearing for perhaps 23 years (or more), it never loses its greatness, its oomph, its Nownownow. When you are dealing with bureaucracy it always helps to make things move faster, or at least let other folks in on your misery. That said, it is only cute so many times and in so many siteeations when my 3-year-old says, “Mama! I can’t reach the fucking raisins!”

As for yelling….well, this is my personality. I yell. I get angry and there you go. Is it preferable for my kids to deal with the repressed me or to learn that problems are solved by losing control and screaming? Well….I can’t really know until all three of them are well into adulthood and I can witness the results of my little “parenting” experiment. So, I need to make a decision: will my experiment involve cursing at high decibels or hiding my feelings at the expense of my mental health? I guess, according to this frivolous website, I am erring on the side of my mental instability.

Oh, who am I kidding? Procrastinating is how I get things done. I can only work under pressure.