January 2010
December 2009
I want a friend.
I want a bad friend. I want a slutty, sleezy, single friend. She’ll take me out to clubs, bars (underage of course… she’ll flash the bouncer), kickbacks, and parties. She’ll make me forget about my marital status and encourage me to engage in single behavior. She’ll have an endless supply of b33r and mixed drinks ready for me every night. We’ll tag greasy, ugly,...
Just had the most wonderful convo with a lovely...
We can talk for hours on end and never run out of topics to discuss. I can tell him my dreams, thoughts, goals, aspirations— everything. It’s nice to feel listened to every now and then. To remember that I DO have a voice worth hearing.
If you’d only listen, I have so many things to say. I can be so interesting and intellectual. If you’d only let me, I’d let you in...
It ain't me you're lookin' for babe.
I don’t know what you were expecting. Maybe a turbo, super robotic housewife— who knows. But whatever it is, I’m not it.
I’m a creative, free-spirit. I was never meant to be the military housewife. I was meant to marry an artist, a musician, or an activist. Maybe even be a bachelorette! But this? No, not this. I’m worth more than this. For a whole year I believed...
Tattoos.
I figured out what I’m getting (so far).
1) On my back/spine: I’m going to get the lyrics, “Emancipate yourselves from mental slavery; none but ourselves can free our minds.” from Bob Marley’s “Redemption Song”.
2) On my ribs (right): A huge phoenix. Maybe even a girl bursting into one. I’m thinking black and red, but only a little red. My little...
Decisions.
A wise friend recently told me that it takes more courage to leave than to stay and fight out of fear of being a quitter. He told me running around in circles and trying to save a lost cause is essentially laying down and giving up.
I am starting to believe that he is right.
It's settled.
I’ve decided that these next few years I’m going to work my ass off, study my ass off, and plan my ass off to become a vet, save enough money, and move to Ireland with my best bud, Jaren. We’re going to play music at Irish pubs at night and drink beer. We’ll open a record shop and I’ll bartend by night.
It’s okay to dream. We’ll go there one day; vet,...
Calling all you angels.
When Danny and I got into that argument the other day in which he told me without feeling, emotion, or mercy that he might not love me anymore, I stormed out, took a walk, and smoked my cigarette with tears in my eyes, feeling numb as ever. I walked towards the mailboxes near the bench I like to sit at and watch the ducks (how… elderly of me) and screamed at God in my head, “Where the...
I am convinced...
that God put you in my life to test my patience.
A woman's intuition is always right.
You come home at 8 PM, without a care in the world for me, without regret, without remorse, and definitely without any form of an apology or explanation.
I press you, angered by your lack of respect and attention, and you simply say you don’t care, you’re not a schedule, you’re a grown man, and you can do what you want.
Then you proceed to break me down in every way possible,...
“I close my eyes and I turn around and leave it all behind.”
Who are you to tell me it'll always be this way?
I want to feel pursued again. I want to feel loved. I want to feel wanted.
You don’t make me feel like a woman; you make me feel like a wife. A housewife. I feel like we are in our retirement stage and we’re barely 20. And even then, I’ve seen very happy, very much in love elderly couples. How difficult is it to come home in a semi-good mood, give me a hug and a kiss, lay with...
Why hello, old friend.
I haven’t kept a blog up in a long time, for a plethora of reasons. But I’m back because I’ve lived with a lot of pent-up feelings for a while now and I need some kind of outlet. Tumblr.com, you are it.
