This is why I hate my job. We work on a work order system and we get many, many more work orders every day than we could ever hope to complete. Our employer, being cheap fucks, will not staff our department appropriately so we just struggle along. Yesterday was a prime example. Email from bitchy woman: “I need your help right now, this is affecting my work.” Me: “Here’s a document that should help you do what you are trying to do.” (I have 57 work orders and she’s #55). Bitchy woman: “I need you to come resolve this right now.” Me: “I can’t resolve this right now but I’m hoping you can follow the documentation for a resolution. We have a strict first-in-first-out policy on tickets and we receive much more work every day than we can accomplish. I won’t be able to get to your ticket until sometime next week.” Bitchy woman: “You better come to my desk right now.” The BITCH in Bipolar Bitches Anonymous is rising like a genie from a bottle and threatening to float all the way to North Carolina to STRANGLE this woman!! I’m sorry but the most rational thing to do in this situation would be to grab my purse, leave a note that says “Fuck this job!” and RUN not walk to the nearest bar. The UNNATURAL thing to do is to keep working through such a taxingly shitty situation. Woo! Look at the time! This bitch better go get in the shower & get ready for work. *Sob*
Ladies this is a new segment for us to hopefully talk and vent about what we go through being BBA’s. I know for me in addition to being the hottest bitch in any room, I may often be the biggest bitch in the room. Ta-tum! Ok! Anyhoo that is true but also funny. You will see that is what I am like. Well I am an extreme, including extremely sweet and sour. So consequently I pull people in with my mesmerizing looks and sweet sugar kindness, and then KAFOOM MOOD CRASH I am sour and I am Missy Pissy don’t wanna talk I hate my fucking job why can’t everyone stfu (my customers), etc. This is what I subject my loved ones to. And myself.
BBA’s, don’t be shy, share yourself & your dilemmas. Like they say, “We got this bitch!”
Smiling Sunflower. THANK YOU Broken Light Photography Collective for displaying my photos!!!!
By popular demand (that would be me), here is the completed, genius-inspired coloring manifesto by MOI!! I can confirm that coloring is not just for the damn kids, people. It is in fact meditative, nurturing and downright fun. If you’re anything like me, it will also bring out your inner nazi (STAY IN THE LINES!). Fuck that nazi and do your own thing. I got serious on this one with my gelly roll glitter pens. Say it with me now, 90’s rapper style.. “Ah YEAH!”
When I was five I was a girly-girl with all the accoutrements of that time (late 1860’s but let’s pretend it was the 1970’s) and let me tell you, I was rich in plastic jewelry, fake makeup, and stinky perfume. I’m sure my Mom & Dad, not wanting us (my sisters and I) to ingest the perfume, warned us that it was poison. (Just as a side note: Why do they put so many things in toothpaste tubes? Our elderly babysitter Mrs. Cates brushed our teeth with Brill Cream more than once! But I digress..)..
One day, playing by myself as usual (I could control EVERYTHING that way, and no one was picking on me or telling me not to eat my boogers, either!) I experimented with pouring a little bit of perfume in a plastic cup and added water. I wasn’t going to drink it, I did it purely for scientific purposes. I was five! It turned a milky white. Good to know. Poured it out.
Now you know there was always a neighborhood bully around, and ours lived just across the street. You know I’m changing her name. I’ll call her Bennifer Boslin. Well Bennifer Boslin was awful mean to me and she just plain scared me! I was afraid to go play in the cul-de-sac with the other kids, darn it! Not long after my little experiment, I hatched a plan. I was gonna kill Bennifer Boslin! That would be the end of all of my troubles.
I mixed up some of my perfume potion and sauntered out to the cul-de-sac the next day. “Hi Bennifer! Would you like some milk?” I inquired sweetly. Bennifer Boslin took a glug and immediately spat it out. “What is that, poison?” she yelled indignantly. “Yyyyes” I stammered, and I turned and ran, back to my house, to my lab, the bathroom. Durn. Foiled again!
And that is the story of how Bennifer Boslin lived to see another day, and I avoided doing hard time in the clink at the age of five.
Pictured: The five-year-old would-be killa
What a gift, what a spirit this person has. I just feel stunned by beauty.
Look at my mom, looking beautiful, like a 60’s covergirl, except she’s eating a raw hot dog, which she used to love, but she’s young and beautiful and on a picnic, presumably in California ‘cause that’s where we lived. The year was 1968, which made her around 27. So far she had us three girls, and she would go on to have three more kids. She is tiny, petite and has a girlish figure.
I often wonder if my mom is happy, happy being married to my dad, having six kids, if she could undo some of us, would she? Or if she could not have gotten married, would she? She sure has said enough times that if the Catholic Church would ordain women as priests, she would become a priest. I don’t know where that would leave us, I guess we would at that point all become bastards and my dad an unmarried slut. Hell I dunno. It’s interesting to think about though.
The best invention since sliced bread. The digital camera. I love my baby!! I am so attached to it, it is an extension of me!! It brings me such joy to capture images, sometimes I can capture reality, and sometimes, the camera captures something my eye did not or cannot see. There’s the real joy, mystery and magic of photography.
I never would have gotten this view of this little guy without my magic picture box.
Look what I found! I found SO MANY treasures that I haven’t laid eyes on in YEARS! I did something monumental today. This won’t sound monumental to many, but to some who have depression and procrastination all mixed in together, this will make perfect sense. I cleaned out my “scary” closet. You know that closet, that some people have, that commits assault on you when you open it? Yeah that one. Mine was full of shit and boxes that I’ve been lugging around for SEVEN YEARS without opening them. SEVEN YEARS!!! There’s something about this seven-year mark. I tell you, things are MOVING!! I don’t know what it is. It’s scary not knowing what it is. I don’t want it to go away!! A little bit of mojo is a great fucking relief after sleepwalking, let me tell you.
Some of what I think might be going on is that I have been punishing myself for losing a house before I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. I always dreamed of owning a home and it was a dream come true to have one built. I was however extremely impulsive with money and, well, everything and one day, fed up with my job, I walked away from it. Literally packed up my desk and moved ‘er on, lil’ doggies. I had no idea that when my cashed in retirement money ran out, it would be very hard to find another job, and I eventually lost the house, which broke my heart. From that time on I lived in a series of cold, dark, depressing hovels until I moved into this house. Somehow this light-filled, lovely curvy home is helping to bring about healing.
I guess what I’m saying in my bass-ackwards way is that I’m grateful. Today I’m grateful. For today. Life is good. Whoa-ho. Thank you Lordy-Joe.
You only thought I colored the first one…with the second one I got serious. For those of you who missed the first one, my group therapist informed the group that coloring symmetrical line drawings can be meditative. Ever since then I have taken this license to color to heart and am enjoying the hell out of it. After the first crayon picture I got serious and got out the jelly roll glitter pens. Holy shit it’s fun!! Every few spare minutes I get I color a little!! If I’m working around the house and I think I deserve a little break, I color. It’s ridiculon!! I love it!! I totally recommend it. I am including an un-colored copy for you…enjoy my friends ENJOY!!!!
Today I am dys- and mis- and all kind of “off” words. It started with having an argument with my sister – she asked me to do something, I said no, and all kinds of shit ensued. I got very sad and I guess that is what has stuck with me all day. I’d like to think that I am more than what I can do for people, or that I am more than what I can give to people. The truth is that I have chronic low self-esteem, and in feeling less-than, I over-give and over-do and I have created a set of expectations that I am no longer willing to live up to. I will need to deal with these expectations. I will also need to be ok with saying no to people – whether it’s because I need to or even just because I want to. I have that right. These are revolutionary words for me. The most powerful words are actions, they say, so watch me show myself how much I am worth!
Random confession time: I gotta say it, then maybe I won’t do it, but I have this obsession about going to Mexico, because I need sun. Now I’ve gone from needing sun to I’m gonna buy speed (ritalin, phentermine) while I’m there. See, I hate how I can’t concentrate very well. Or lose weight. Now I know for a fucking fact that if I do this I will go into a major manic episode. Hello? Hello. Thank you. Helps to say it out loud. Crazy fucking idea.
It was a delicious sixty degrees today. I took a walk. This is the Mapleton neighborhood of Boulder, Colorado, where Big Boy the elk lived and died. This is also where the careers of two Boulder police officers, Brent Curnow and Sam Carter once flourished and have now come to an end. Those two tools turned in their resignations today. I know I show total disgust for them. What is really going on inside is “There but for the grace of God go I” – Being bipolar, I CONSTANTLY feel like I am just one dumbshit move away from blowing the shit out of my whole life!! Does anyone else feel like this?
I mean, here these guys are living pretty good lives!! They have good jobs in a great town. They gotta be making some bank. If they want to hunt, they could hunt. Why in God’s name would they want to kill this damn elk in the middle of town? Did they ever stop to think that they’d be RUINING THEIR OWN LIVES???? Stupid. Shortsighted. I don’t get it. Or I’m afraid of doing the same so damn much.
Did Big Boy nuzzle any of these delicious-looking berries above on Maplewood? Does nuzzling berries sound like a fancy blowjob? Well I didn’t mean it in that way!
Above is the West end of the Mapleton neighborhood. Big Boy certainly walked past these majestic elms many a time. Haha I’m just bullshitting you. I have no idea what kind of trees these are! Sounded good huh.
Boulder is just a little crazy-ass-crazy.
Dad bought a new pair of shoes today. He didn’t know if he could justify spending $110 on a pair of shoes if he’s only going to live six months or a year. I said “It sucks that you have to think like that!” “I know!” he agreed. Tears began to leak out of my eyes. Were we really going there? Dad started talking about going to see RVs with Seniordoodle. We dramatically veered away from the realness of Dad’s impending death. Whew! The tears kept leaking. “My eyes are burning today!” I said, ever the loyal bullshitter. “My eyes were doing that earlier, too! We must have used up the drops we used to have in the car.” And back down the path we meandered to mundaneville. Ah, safe for now.
GOD, I love the word FUCK! Is there another more satisfying word in the English language? Fuck! You Fuckers! And oh how I LOVE a good “Fuck you!” Throughout my day I like to salt my language regularly with “What the fuck’s” and “Fuck this” ‘s and of course the indignant “Who the fuck do they think they are?” will inevitably burst out. Ah fuck it’s just so soothing. It’s a noun! “Hey, you fuck!” It’s a verb! “Let’s fuck!” It’s an adjective! “He’s weird as fuck!” It’s an adverb! I don’t know how to use fuck as an adverb, actually. But you can fucking see how versatile the word is, right? OK. I think I made my point! Fuck! I FUCKING LOVE YOU, FUCK!