first of all, if you don't want me to get sick of your songs, don't play them fucking 24/7. secondly, this is not my least favorite band. there are some really terrible musicians out there, and these guys are not it. but for whatever reason, i fucking HATE this song. even the live version pisses me off. if you're gonna sing a song, don't tell the crowd to sing it for you. everything about this song is mediocre and generic. i still like a lot of their catalog, though. this was just a very low point in it.
Day 1 - i'm copping out for the next 30 entries. sorry.
Day 01 - Your favorite song
Day 02 - Your least favorite song
Day 03 - A song that makes you happy
Day 04 - A song that makes you sad
Day 05 - A song that reminds you of someone
Day 06 - A song that reminds you of somewhere
Day 07 - A song that reminds you of a certain event
Day 08 - A song that you know all the words to
Day 09 - A song that you can dance to
Day 10 - A song that makes you fall asleep
Day 11 - A song from your favorite band
Day 12 - A song from a band you hate
Day 13 - A song that is a guilty pleasure
Day 14 - A song that no one would expect you to love
Day 15 - A song that describes you
Day 16 - A song that you used to love but now hate
Day 17 - A song that you hear often on the radio
Day 18 - A song that you wish you heard on the radio
Day 19 - A song from your favorite album
Day 20 - A song that you listen to when you're angry
Day 21 - A song that you listen to when you're happy
Day 22 - A song that you listen to when you're sad
Day 23 - A song that you want to play at your wedding
Day 24 - A song that you want to play at your funeral
Day 25 - A song that makes you laugh
Day 26 - A song that you can play on an instrument
Day 27 - A song that you wish you could play
Day 28 - A song that makes you feel guilty
Day 29 - A song from your childhood
Day 30 - Your favorite song at this time last year
Favorite Song:
this was not easy, by any stretch of the imagination. which is why you get two.
Graduate school is easy. I started in January. So much less crap than undergrad ever was. With that being said, it's getting to the crunch time of the semester that I haven't quite prepared for because I've been busy doing stuff such as:
1. Working at the Writing Center 15 hours/week
2. Organizing a huge fundraiser for the Theodore Roethke House in Saginaw
3. Presenting at the Eastern Central Writing Centers Association Conference
4. Presenting at the Michigan Women's Studies Association Conference
5. Founding and hosting meetings of Anarchists without Adjectives
6. Applying for Teach for America
7. Applying for a graduate assistantship position to teach English 101 next year
8. Sleeping
9. Planning
10. Blogging
Between now and April 9th, I have a presentation and a 15-20 page paper to write for one class. Between now and May 1, I have a 12 page paper, a presentation, and several smaller assignments to complete. Oh, and probably about 2,000 pages of reading. Eh.
life is making me not happy.
and yes, i have friends that are getting just as much crap life and more than me, but i feel like I am at the breaking point.
Maybe I've never been that strong... or maybe it just isn't worth it anymore.
::
2011 19 March :: 12.27am
:: Mood: party-mode
:: Music: bob marley - all in one
at least it was the 18th when i started writing....
So, I'm deeming the first fire of the year a success. I mean, it was on fire, but the rest of the neighborhood didn't catch. I typically consider that a success.
I'd rather brush the fact that it was just me by myself out there under the rug. But even still, it was nice. The moon was big and bright, which made it fun.
I got to work outside today, which was nice. Nothing like swingin' a hammer in the fresh air.
That's about it. I've been pretty lame lately.
Be safe, and stay classy, kiddos.
p.s. I made a fried egg sandwich. It was delicious.
They say time heals all wounds..
... I am having a hard time believing that time heals all wounds, at least in this situation.
I may seem dramatic, petty, or immature. Some may think I over analyze every situation, just to find the bad in something. But honestly, in this situation, I don't have to look for the negative. It seems to present itself just fine. I didn't ask to be part of this. I didn't ask for an alcohol dependent mother, who uses her addictions to alcohol, cigarettes, weed, and sex, as excuses for how she "copes" with her miserable life. I didn't ask for a mother who chooses favorites when it comes to not only her children, but her grandchildren. Or a mother who stops talking to me when I mention her coming to visit me and my daughter at my house. A mother who blames everyone but herself for her miserable life.
Whether she realizes it or not, she treats me like shit. Like a mistake she'd rather sweep under the rug. I know she loves me, and that she does care, but she has a shitty way of showing it to me.
For years I blamed myself, lost sleep, shed way too many tears, and worried way too much. Blamed myself for her addiction. Even though I now know it wasn't my fault. Never was. Never will be. I lost sleep waiting up at night, constantly looking out my bedroom window just to make sure she made it home safe from the bar. Shed way too many tears because that is the only way I knew how to deal with the stress I put myself under worrying about her. And I worried way too much wondering where she was, or who she was with, or when she'd finally make it home. Those are not things a teenager should have to deal with or worry about.
I saw a different guy after another come into my home, and leave. There were only a couple that stuck around. When she was on again with Jim, the guys weren't so frequent. In fact, they had even stopped... 'til Joe came along. Then for awhile it was just Joe, then it was Joe and Jim, and then it was just Jim. And unfortunately, it was just Jim for awhile. She didn't come to school functions because she had to go to the BAR to watch him perform in his BAND. Seriously? You ditched your daughters school function, something that you can't get back, to watch your alcoholic boyfriend pretend to be a rockstar? Fucking perfect. Sadly, that was the story of my life through high school. In fact, I remember begging her to come to a spring concert, and I even tried to bribe her. Didn't work. Her response was, "Why do I have to go? I've already heard you guys play." That was also her same response to me asking her to go to band competitions, or home football games to watch the halftime shows. Except she'd throw in, "I can sit on the porch and listen to you guys play. And I don't even have to get out of my pj's and I can smoke and drink my beer." Again, seriously?
I knew disappointment all too well.
I am very grateful for my dad. He missed 1 volleyball game (because he was called into work), and missed one, maybe 2 band performances. He didn't care if it was all the same. He wasn't there for the music, or the sport. He was there to support ME, his daughter. Who he loves unconditionally. It wasn't because I was daddy's little girl, or because I begged and pleaded for him to go. I will admit, that him and I do not have the most perfect relationship. It's almost awkward, and he was way too easy on me. I could have gotten away with murder, and I'd still be an angel in his eyes.
Anyway, back to the point.
After graduation, I was extremely unhappy. But I was too scared to do anything about it. I didn't know how to change my life for ME. I was still being controlled by my mother. I was constantly fighting with Jim. And after having anxiety attacks after fights we would have, I knew something had to change. In the meantime, I got mixed up with a guy I met at work. He was 17 years older than me. Not attractive, but he showed interest in me. He said all the right things, and I thought I was in love. When I was with him, I didn't think about my mom, Jim, or any of that mess. Even though that relationship wasn't healthy on so many levels, and he controlled me, he gave me the strength and courage to stand up for myself. I needed to do something, not in a couple of days, weeks or months, but right NOW. While I was at his house one day, I was bombarded by phone calls by my mother, telling me I HAD to get home right NOW, and do dishes before she got home from work, I had to earn my keep. Even though I had not been home in close to a week. On the way home, I made arrangements to move out... 2 days later. I was excited for this change in my life. I didn't want to hurt my moms feelings, so I sent her an e-mail. Telling her that I was done fighting, and I wasn't going to make her choose between Jim or I. I had made that decision for her, because I already knew what her decision was going to be. I was done being hurt, disappointed, and being shoved out of my own house by someone I would NEVER consider family. And I needed a different environment. One where I felt safe, and had called home for the last couple of years, even though I didn't live there. She hadn't said anything to me about the e-mail, so I sent it again, and she still hadn't responded, so I printed it, put it in an envelope, and put it on the shelf in the bathroom before I left for work. I wanted to make sure she had gotten it. She was furious. She tried to talk me out of moving. But I wasn't going to change my mind. She called me on my cell phone, from the house phone, WHEN WE WERE IN THE SAME HOUSE, begging me to stay. She told me she was going to kick Jim out so I would stay. I knew that if I had told her I would stay, she wouldn't make him leave. She'd just tell me things would be different. Needless to say, after work the next morning, I came home to load up all my things, and she was still there. She packed the majority of Jim's things, and was kicking him out. But, I was still not going to change my mind. I didn't just need him out of the house. I needed him out of our lives, if I wanted any kind of relationship with my mom. Or so I thought. Since then, things have only worsened.
She REFUSES to come to my house. She's ALWAYS asking me to come to her house. When I tell her I am busy, she stops talking to me. When I mention her coming to my house, she doesn't respond, and won't talk to me until she asks me to come over again.
I am sick and tired of being the only one to make the effort. She has been to my house so many times that I can count them on 1 hand. I haven't lived with her in 5 and a half years.
Onto what hurts the most..
March 7, 2010.. A day that was one of the happiest days of my life. I found out I was pregnant. I was happy to tell my sister, my dad, and my brother. I knew I would get judgement from my brother, and I knew my sister would ask a million questions. Face it, thats her nature. She's extremely inquisitive. I was scared to tell my mom, and I had every right to be scared. If it weren't for my sister, I probably wouldn't have told her at all. I would have just let her figure it out, or hear it from someone else. Would have been easier that way. Instead, I heard every ounce of disappointment, and judgement she had to offer. There is nothing worse than telling your mother you are pregnant, and getting a giant sigh of disappointment followed by a hesitated "I still love you." Never in my life, have I felt so hurt, or betrayed in my life. I felt like my heart had just been ripped from my chest.
I'd be lying if that was the end of it..
A couple days after her processing the thought of me creating life, and being a mother, she decides to call me. And tell me that she's worried about me, and that I should have been using protection, so that I didn't have an unplanned child. Wait, it gets better.. She follows that up with, "I just have this feeling that Mike is going to leave you, or force you into an abortion." Are you fucking kidding me? Right then, I lost all hope that she'd ever come to terms with me being a mother, and be happy with me.
Unfortunately, she continues to bombard me with hurt..
By the end of that week, my sister announces she is pregnant. And my mother was so unbelievably happy for my sister and her husband. She couldn't wait to tell the world. And she did a great job of telling everyone she was so excited to have 2 grandbabies at the same time. She had so much excitement for my sister, that she let it overflow in to excitement for me, when really she still had judgement.
It was going great for awhile..
She showed up at the hospital when I was about to deliver. I didn't want her in the room, and she knew it. I knew that she was going to start in on me the moment she got there.. And I should have placed bets on Facebook, because I'd be fucking LOADED! As soon as she walked in the room, she started nagging me telling me I was going to hyperventilate if I didn't calm down. Really? I thought I was doing just fine for being in LABOR for the first time in my entire life. She only stayed at the hospital for maybe 2 hours after Reagan was born.
And she continues to find ways to hurt me, and get under my skin..
I sent her a picture text of Reagan. I was hoping for a response, at least saying "give her kisses from Grandma. Tell her I love her." But I got NOTHING. A day later, and still NOTHING. But she posts two links to 2 pictures of my nephews, that my sister had posted.. I don't even feel disappointed anymore. I feel like she is punishing Reagan for being mad at me. And that is not right at all. I am hurt that she doesn't say anything about Reagan. It's always about her Grandsons. I have always tried to fight for attention over my sister, because she is my moms favorite. I shouldn't have to fight for my daughter to get equal attention as well.
I wish things were different. I worry about what I am going to tell Reagan when she's older and wonders why Grandma doesn't come to visit. I want my daughter to have a Grandma in her life, and my mom is the only one she has. I don't want to lie to my daughter about why her Grandma doesn't come to visit, or make up excuses for her. But I also don't want my daughter to feel an ounce of disappointment from my mom the way she has let me down.
So, I have made a promise to myself, and my daughter. I will be the best mother I can be. I will use my mom as inspiration. I won't miss an important moment in my daughters life, unless there is nothing I can do about it. I will always be there for her, and I will NOT treat her the way I was treated. She is the best thing that has EVER happened to me, and nothing will EVER change that. I am so thankful for every moment I spend with Reagan, and I will cherish every single moment I have with her.
The rant to end all other rants...I had.
Ive been slowly working on writing something huge. Every event in my life that still haunts me in some fashion. Every event that I recall thats ever kept my mind awake at night frustrating the hell out of me. What I have already is about 6 pages long. So, I can only imagine how bad things will be by the end of it.
The good news is I think putting these things down somewhere will def help.
i'm making 'omnanimously' a word, and that's the end of it.
So, i'm on vacation with my family. We go to the k-mart in Petoskey. Not my decision, but in the interest of caving to the more forceful individuals involved, that's where I wound up.
My dad gives me spending money (it would've been much better spent on the slopes, but that wasn't in the cards, apparently. So, I still haven't spent it.), which in and of itself is both sad and cool. With what money I brought up with me, I buy a soda. A 20-ounce bottle of pop. The lady at the register asks me if I have a k-mart rewards card. I have to sound all stupid, and ask her to repeat herself because she's one of those soft talkers. You know the ones. I'm half deaf, because i'm getting over a sinus infection, and i've spent several sessions in the last 24 hours submerged in either a hot tub or a pool. Since I can't fucking be skiing. would you like to sign up for a rewards card? I'm sorry, what was that? Do you want to sign up for one? No, thanks. And in my head, there's a battle raging between the logical part of me that's thinking 'she doesn't know that I never go to k-mart, probably won't again for a long long time, and the only reason i'm here in the first place is because i'm from out of town,' and the other part that's saying 'lady, I don't have one already, and i'm just buying a fucking soda!'. Alright, that'll be a dollar sixty-nine. I didn't actually hear what she said, but I knew it was more than a dollar, but less than two, and deduced the rest from the change.
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Just a fun fact (or an FF. See what I did there? I shortened it. Which is automatically more cool. Or cooler. See? Shortened again! Damn, i'm cool), this stems from a game of phone tag that i'm currently in.
I am fascinated, at least for the moment, with the phenomenon of being 'it'. Like, how would you describe being it? (again, short=cool) Defining 'it' is easy, but describing it is nigh on impossible. You're in a position of some singular importance, but at the same time it's something you try to avoid. I guess it all stems from the simplicity of the game. It is competition in its most sublime, simplified form. Still, the human mind needs some context; some rules. Granted, they're basic: if the person who's it touches you, you become the person who's it - The game begins with whoever initiates contact and calls someone else it - Anyone who chooses to join in is potentially it. Them's the rules. Then why is that sensation so difficult to pin down? We all know it (at least, anyone who has ever played tag. Which I omnanimously declare to be everyone), and yet it remains so difficult to put to words. You're either chasing, or being chased, and taking it in turns. And the game is pretty much over when the person who's it gives up, and nobody else in the game decides to take up the mantle.
In some ways, I wish phone tag were more like the game of my youth. Regardless, I still hate being 'it'.