Fantasy

You know what? Screw this.

Real life is just too much to bear in any conventional way.  I'm retreating into fantasy and I'm taking this blog with me. Maybe my imagination will rescue me from this hell I'm living in. If I'm going to be forced to live (because I'm a coward), then it might as well be by pretending I'm somewhere else.

This Sock's Been Through Hell

Yes, all of my posts from now on are going to be about my socks (sarcasm). Today's been craptastic. I rolled out of bed with a shitty hangover - last night was beer bingo and dollar tacos. I don't know where most of my clothes are, so I tried to put on just whatever. The lacy camisole I tried to wear under my a-little-too-sheer-for-work shirt was waaaaay to small (did I mention I got fat?) and then I put on my white bra instead and threw a sweater over the whole affair. Well, once I got to work, I noticed that:

a.) the bra straps are glaringly apparent
b.) the bright pink Sharpy shows through where Sean of Tickle Me Pink signed my bra
c.) there was a hole in my right sock

and instead of having a versatile ensemble that I could change with the absurd climate, I have an ugly, uncomfortable getup that I'm trapped in because I can't take off the sweater for fear of showing the terribly inappropriate disaster underneath.

Plus, my pen ran out of ink, I have killer heartburn, my head STILL hurts, the damn register at the corner shop wouldn't accept my credit card and the checker was a dick about it. I wanna go home!!!

Perpetual Hell

I am miserable. I know I'm always going on about how terrible life is, blah blah blah. In truth, things are going much better than they were a few years ago and a few years before that were even worse. Sometimes it's hard to see how miserable you are until you're out of a situation. I once dated a guy who liked throw me around the apartment. I thought I'd die without him. Well, I tried to commit suicide, the hospital made me take some pills, and I finally gained some perspective and cut the asshole loose. "Damn," I thought, "How could I have lived like that?" Well, I eventually met another, even worse asshole, but that's another story.

The story now is that I'm dissatisfied with life, or more what I'm doing with my own life. Some things are going to change soon, which may make existence more bearable. I'm moving in a few days - into an apartment with another girl. The whole change of surroundings and the effort it will take to move all of my crap and settle in will distract me for a bit. I'll be excited to have new things to explore and new people to hang out with. But, I know the novelty will wear off and I'll be back to where I am now.

You see, I've always had a problem with staying in one place for very long. Wanderlust - I has it. I've been working in the same neighborhood for the past 3 years. I've eaten at every restaurant and shopped in every shop within walking distance. I'm so incredibly sick of seeing the same damned things every damned day! I also never wanted to come back to this effing state. I was born here and moved away as fast as I possibly could. But, heinous circumstances sucked me back to this place. It's not the worst place to live in the world, but I still loathe it.

Next month, my mother is going on a trip to Greece with her friend. Fucking bitch. I've had a tour book for Greece, that I've gazed at fondly for years. My ancestry is actually Greek, hers is not. Now that I'm so down and out that I can barely move out of my parents' house, she decides it's a good time to jet off. Couldn't she have picked Siberia? Bitch. I'm so jealous, I almost wish they have a horrible time. Last night, I watched Y Tu Mama Tambien. It was all about taking off down the road in Mexico and going beach hopping (well, that's not what the point of the movie was, but...). I want a job where I can travel! I feel so trapped sometimes that I can't breathe! Seriously. I have panic attacks when I think about it too much. I feel trapped and running out of time.

So, how can I fix this?

Things Can Grow In Hell

This is what my Amaryllis looked like when I came back from the long New Years' weekend. I was agog at how much it grew!! Of course, I had to edit the picture a bit to block out certain office info, and I did a sloppy job of it, but it's early and I haven't had coffee yet.

In other news, I had another enormous fight with my alcoholic father last week. In all my 32 miserable years of living, he has never used the tone of voice that he used with me that night. It scared me. I actually felt threatened - and I've never been scared of Dad. So, I left his house in tears and this most recent past Wednesday, I moved all of my things out. Effectively, I'm homeless for the time being. Life, as usual, sucks. And I haven't even mentioned the fiasco with my cousin yet. Fuck.

Pictures From the Pit of Hell

Ugh. Have I always been this hateful? Every morning, I despise everyone I see to the point that my stomach churns. Waking up every day has gotten to be like the pain of birth - from the child's perspective, not the mother's. Have you ever stopped to think what a traumatic experience being born must have been? And yet, none of us remembers it. Maybe we're all blocking it out. Fucking torture anyway.

So, yesterday I went to get a salad and had a detestable experience waiting in line. I've got to figure out how I can live my life with the most minimal contact with other humans as possible. On the other hand, maybe it's just this city or just this country that sucks. I still hold out hope for the rest of the world. America is going to crash and burn and we all deserve it. Oh, wait...there was a point....yeah, the purse. I managed to snap, at the end of my long wait in line, a shot of another hideous handbag It isn't loaded with shiny buckles and formed out of animal skin, but it's gross nonetheless. Behold, in all it's horror:



And did I tell you about the guy on the bus a couple of weeks ago? Oh man. It was all I could do not to laugh hysterically. Let this be a lesson to everyone out there to embrace their true body size and shop accordingly (or at least dress accordingly):



Did you pee just a little? I did. Freakin' hilarious! I feel a little better now.

Holy Hell....WTF?!

Um....okay. I've decided on a slow death via starvation. Not really, but I'm having a hard time coping with new guy seeing another chick. He's not to blame though. There was never any pretense of being "exclusive" and I have to give the guy kudos for telling me the truth when I asked him. It's still quite a blow though. I haven't had an appetite for days. I suppose I asked for it. I feel like an ass for letting myself have the feelings I had for him. I still plan on dating the guy, but it's been rough.

So, get this: in the midst of my despair and self-loathing, I get an email from an ex. Remember the guy with the 13 inch mowhawk? The one who uncerimoniously dumped me after proposing? Well, I "he" is now "she". No shit. I'm still reeling from shock. Just when you think things are bad....Well, it's not such a terrible thing I guess. It's good that the guy finally got in touch with the hidden side of him/her. I wished her well and said we could be friends. I just feel like I got run over by a truck though.

Let's Get the Hell Outta Here

Um...that rant about coffee shop boy?.....Over it. I just had an epiphany last night and then *bling*, I was over the whole situation. Yay! Now I'm just upset because I left my iPod on the charger at home. D'oh!!

I would like to abandon my current life/situation and go on to something new. I'm so bored and run down with the whole routine. I tried doing a few new things, like knitting groups and belly dancing. It worked for a while, but it all seems mundane again. I've been cruising around other, more creative/fortunate people's blogs and it's made me a little depressed/unsatisfied.

I need a makeover! No, not the kind where you pay some blone/beauty school cunt to spackle makeup on your face and tease your hair. I mean the kind where Queer Eye for the Straight Guy marches into your apartment (that reminds me. I need to get my dad's garage "pimped" somehow) and makes life beautiful again. Although, that would only work if they moved me to a new city and gave me a new job as well as the wardrobe advice. Poo.

I've decided that I'm going to invent a new style genre. It's called "GothaBilly". Yeah, like the bastard child of "goth" and "rockabilly". Half of my existing wardrobe already applies. It's going to have to be back to the Bettie do as soon as I can afford it. My tummy really needs some flattening. Let's see....manicure (that's when you pay some Vietnamese/Korean cunt to spackle your nails with acrylics)...some sewing and some thrift store shopping....

Oh, and a new car and apartment...yeah, I'm all over that shit.

Neko Visits Hell Again

I knew better. I'd be a lot happier now if I hadn't. Instead, I feel like taking a kitchen knife to my chest and digging out this cursed heart. I fucking hate this shit. I fell in love, like an idiot. And it was, briefly, returned. However, he decided that his wife and kids took priority after all. I agreed with him, despite my selfish desires. I realized how much I liked him, and realized that I don't want him to fuck up his life because of me. So, what could have happened almost happened, but didn't. And I feel like I need to see my own blood again. I need to cut something open, watch it spill out, feel physically what I'm feeling emotionally. I'm at work right now, but there are tears...little, quiet ones. And there's an intense loathing for life and love and I just don't want to feel anymore.