My Version of Acceptance

AcceptanceAcceptance is a thin, dry, hard crust of bread that I must somehow strive to swallow with a beaming smile on my face.  Today I go back to work after a week off due to Influenza A.  My perfect sister tells me to “radiate positive energy for the new year.”  My response is that I can radiate positive energy for the next century, but putting lipstick on this pig of a job won’t turn it into Cover Girl, and me into Jennifer Garner, smiling serenely for the camera.  I’ll still be Scrappy Sue, and the people at the job will still be shitheads no matter how hard I try to be kind, fair, positive, good, or helpful.  The point is that I need to get out of this bad, bad situation.  Am I too far gone to find another job?  I’m feeling so beaten to death, I don’t know if I can summon the will, the GOODwill, to find another job and the enthusiasm to say “Yes!  I WANT this job!  I will do a GREAT job for you!”

Acceptance is updating my damn resume anyway, moving forward anyway, acting as if I can do all of these things anyway, whether I believe I can do it or not.  Acceptance is taking the damn action, the next right action for me, whether I want to or not, because I want to keep living in this house.  Because I want to keep living.  Because there’s enough of the “sane” me left that says “keep going”!  Oh dear.  Better go take a shower.  Right now, THAT is my next right action.

Happy New Year.

I’d Like To Buy The World A Diet Coke


Delicious Diet Coke

Fueling My Day

I Must Say ‘Thank You’

To Influenza A

For Giving Me Time Away

From My ‘Career’ aka A Joke!

Here I am trying to get my sewing chops back after not sewing for over five years.  Because I was at a job that consumed me.  Doing things I loved became foreign to me.  DOING WHAT I LOVE IS FOREIGN TO ME NOW.  I can’t remember how to sew.  I can’t remember how to do the things I love?  And I think I need to look for another job doing what I hate.  Here’s what I kept wondering:  Is it me? Or is it the job?  Me? The Job?  Me?  The Job?  What’s the problem?  Always being afraid that the answer was me.  Well now I KNOW the answer is me and is doesn’t scare me at all.  What scares me is this force to make me do things I don’t want to do!  Why is the force so strong in me that I must do something other than what I love?  Why the struggle?

Is it possible that other people decide to be artists, and they sew, and do batik, and make jewelry, and, and, and, and they support themselves?  Is this actually true?  Is this actually possible?  How could I do this?  Me and my big two-steps-forward-three-back-disorder?  I just feel like I’m my own worst enemy.  THAT is my disorder.  Is there a pill for that?  I’ll take five, please.


Look Ma, I Got an ‘A’ on the Influenza Test!


Well.  This is not what I anticipated for Christmas Day.  Staying home.  Alone.  In quarantine.  Suck-a-roo!  When did everybody’s health become so fragile, that a little Influenza A couldn’t be shared among family?  I guess now.  Shitdamnfuckhell.  THERE’S something nobody wants to face.  Oh mama.  Oh papa.  Don’t leave me!!!

How can I be a certified, bona-fide grown-up on so many levels, yet be so petrified of losing my parents at the same time?  Is this how it is for everyone?  I honestly don’t know how I’d live without them!  They are my solid rocks of stability when I’m a kite flitting & flying god-knows-where in the sky.  It’s like they’re holding my string, reeling me in.  Who will be my stabilizing influence when they are gone?  Oh Lordy.  Scary.  I’m even scared that if I figure this out, then somehow the Universe will see this as a signal that they can be taken from me.  I know, whack!  Well, maybe I’m not the only one.  I don’t know.

Don’t let the sun go down on me (oh wait let it!) — does that sound horny to anyone else?


The sun was shining in my window and I had to take a seat in my comfy chair and, like a cat, just soak it up.  I don’t know what it is about me and Light.  We have a tenuous relationship.  Every November, Light asks for its space from me.  It says Hey, yeah, I’m gonna be away for awhile you’ll be ok without me, I’ll see ya on the flip side, and every year I FUCKING FLIP OUT WHEN THE LIGHT LEAVES!!!  Oh Mommy do I need the Light.  So, the “flip” has happened, we passed the solstice, thank you Jesus, Mary, Joseph, Grandma, Grandpa, and all of my other personal saints up there.  I am still kickin’.  The worst is over.  I think.  It was a little touch and go this year.  First hospitalization in more than 20 years.  What a fucking bummer THAT was.  But, very necessary.  So, here I am, strongly attending to every single day and its sunrise and sunset.  You know there’s actually a calendar for people like me,  It lets you make a calendar, with sunrise/sunset, moon phases, and day length.  For someone like me who is so damn light-sensitive and light-hungry, it’s a relief to see the days lengthening.  Someday I hope to be wealthy enough to travel across the world, from summer to summer.  That would be ideal for me.  Spring and summer light is ideal for this tortured brain.  Yes.  Let’s just say that that is a goal now.  Amen.

what if….


what if i wrote a whole entire paragraph, even a blog, without the use of capital letters?  to think of doing it without punctuation is unthinkable.  even without capitalizing, i feel like i am breaking some major-rager rules!!  woooo scary.  i shit you not.  but, one of the shift keys on my keyboard is working like shit, i.e. hardly working at all, and i’m tired of banging on it!!  yeah i know i do this shit for a living, i could replace the damn keyboard.  that seems to make it even less likely.  oh dear oh me oh my.  i may be stuck with this fucking bum keyboard.

so i was texting with a friend and i actually left some letters uncapitalized and i know!  she is like me.  she gets anxiety when she does something wrong.  she has to correct on the next line, any misspellings she makes.  if i make a spelling error, god forbid, i will correct it immediately.  but it might ruin my day to think that someone thinks i’m a bad speller.  what is that??  oh boy do i miss my capitals. i am a big accentuator, i see.

so anyway! i was texting with the friend, and i had the lower-case letters, feeling acutely that i’m breaking a major, major rule, just as i am now, and i’m like, “what’s going to happen?  who is going to know?  what will they do if they do know?”  somehow i can’t help but fear the consequences.  but still, i had to do it.  just try it.  i promise not to continue.  i don’t know if that means fixing the keyboard or doing a little pinkie weight-lifting to strengthen it or what.  i’ll keep ya posted.

You Deserve A Break Today


I was thinking on my walk about what one of my first bosses said about me in a performance review.  She said “You do a good job and then you want to take a break.  But you can’t take a break.”  Well that has stuck with me.  And you know what?  I DO do a good job!  I actually push myself really hard!!  Whether it’s a walk, a piece of art, or work!  And you know what?  I deserve a fucking break!!!  Know what else??  I do BETTER with lots of breaks.  YES.  Yeah I said it.  It’s almost NAUGHTY in this day and age not to be cutthroat, be all you can be every second of every day, pack it all in, Ima go hike me a fourteener, then I’m gonna write a novel, then I’ll go to work at my big sexy corporate job for sixteen hours (going for a run or a bike ride on my lunch break), and then I’ll go out for tapas and mojitos after work.  SWEET.  Unfortunately I am not that fucking cool.  If I can get a walk in and manage to go to my fucking pitiful job at a fucking even more pitiful company that treats their employees like doggie doo then I feel like a rock star.  Yeah!!  This is why I am Me, and They are Them.

Well, I’m stuck with Me and Me requires lots of breaks.  But, me also takes some pretty sweet pictures here and there.  They’re not the best in the world.  I probably won’t get a coffee table book, like, ever.  I’m not a go-getter!  The only way I’ll ever become a go-getter is if I can do it from the safety and comfort of my couch.  Even then.  I don’t even like the phrase!

I vote for sewing some really straight seams, that are reinforced, with finished edges so they don’t fray!!  Now that is beautiful and satisfying.   Yeah.  I love that.  Sometimes I wish I was a go-getter-entrepreneur.  Sometimes I wish I could live up to my full potential.  Sometimes I wish so bad it hurts.  It hurts so bad it makes me scream-cry.  But that’s not me.  I’m the person who gets insanely happy by making something, and making it really well.  Fine craftsmanship.  I will have to leave my teensy-weensy-mark in indestructible garments, quirky photographs, and goofy belly laughs.  I guess that’s my version of aiming high.  And, I aim to get high.  But that’s a different story.  For when I’m high. HA!

I think I could model my teeth!

i think I could model my teeth!

The image is completely unrelated to the post.  “I think!”

Que Sera, Sera?

What if I never do anything with my life?  What if I just go from shitty job to shitty job, making ok money, fooling myself into believing that things will be different this time??  What if I just go to work and come home and lay here on the couch in the winter, go home after work in the spring/summer and exercise, and just swirl  around in this lonely life?  I guess I can’t keep swirling around like a lost labia any longer.  I guess it’s feeling like such half baked death that I’d rather getteron lil  doggie, or pull my ass out of this and decide to live.  I spose that’s what I guess….

My Precious Child Within has a Question For Your Monkey (you know, the one you spank?)


One of my favorite co-workers, Biff, from my last job, has been fired (names have been changed to protect both the innocent AND the guilty).  Biff was such a neat guy.  Awesome, really.  Kind.  Considerate.  The first to offer to help another.  Would rather die than break a rule.  You set out a process, and he will follow it.  Kind as the day is long.  Reliable.  Oh, just such a nice guy.  Sole supporter of a wife and two kids.  Biff is the salt of the earth.

The thing we all loved about Biff was when we could get him to step outside of himself.  And get him to be Funny Biff.  And then he was So FUNNY.  And most of his stories would end with the saying “Well, slap my ass!!  Which leads me to my story.  It’s about spanking bare bottoms.  Biff’s phrase always reminded me of it.

In the photo above I think Mom might have come through on her threat to “spank my bare bottom!” It was mostly an idle threat but man when she did go through with it she was like Greased Lightning! Sling! Pants down.  Ting! Slap Slap Slap.  Whing!  Pants back up.  Andddd it’s over, Ladiesss and Gentlemen!  “Waaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh”  ahhhh the Betrayal!  But mostly, she saved it for our Father.  Who would come home.  And get out his Fraternity Paddle.  Oh yes.  Black.  It would thwack.

Does this have anything to do with my rough sex proclivities?


I had to ask!!!

I will ALWAYS go there!!!

Back to Biff’s story.

Well, Laydee the boss gets a bee in her bonnet about something.  Who knows what.  She decided she didn’t like the job Biff was doing.  So she tore him a new asshole, regular-like, which just destroyed Biff, who is nothing but good intentions, paving the road to hell.  And then she fired Biff.  I’m sure she’s sitting in her big giant house feeling satisfied now.  What will happen to Biff?  And his wife?  And two kids?  Will they be Homeless for the Holidays?

Laydee, I don’t know any of the psychology of what you’ve been through.  I don’t know the details.  I don’t have a judgment.  But I DO know the people you’ve hurt.  I am one of them.  You are creating a lot of bad karma for yourself.  A LOT!!!  You need to look at whatever is eating your lunch and deal with it.  You are stepping on the toes of your fellows, and we shall retaliate, given even the slightest chance!!  We have been wronged!!  We are hurt!!  We are licking large craters of wounds.  Watch it.  Not a threat.  Reality.  Real-world.  It is what it is.  Puke. I hate that phrase more than life itself.  Laydee loves it.  And there ya go.

Shadow Boxing

Oh Lordy.  Hating the job again.  Being made to seem incompetent w/the boss.    Like they say in the AA Big Book, “We step on the toes of our fellows and they retaliate.”  Motherfuckers are retaliating.  And what have I done?  What do I keep creating over & over & over that I need to get?  What is the message?  I just got it in this very moment.  That FUCK YOU to Dad.  Here it is.  The fucking southern gentlemen.  HOW DARE I be a woman in IT and even act like I am their contemporary?  HOW DARE I speak to them as if I might be right and they, wrong?  HOW DARE I get frustrated with THEM, the Infallible Ma(e)n???

Pema Chodron says (not a direct quote but my interpretation, if I’m way off then fuck me and I apologise) that we will keep recreating the same situation until we get the lesson.  I was like, what’s the lesson?  That I’m bad?  Done.  That I’m incompetent?  No chance.  What the fuck is the message?????

The message is that the fight is with the eternal DAD.  And you’re NEVER gonna conform.  That’s not what you were put on this earth to do!!!!  You will never, ever make it by trying to fit your amoeba-ish shape into a rigid squaare!!!  STOP TRYING!!!!!!!!!  Stop judging yourself for not fitting!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!