Friday, December 7, 2012

Hip hip hoorah

Better men than me have written wise words in regards to what today means in the history of our country, so I'm not even going to try, beyond saying that it is another day that will live in infamy, though fewer and fewer will speak of it. Just like 9/11, the truest of patriots will never let the day the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor be forgotten.

And now, onto other news.

RobbAllen is not the only one who has been doing soul searching. But he admits to having no soul as well as no pants, and I am a whole other ball game. I do have a soul, I just don't know what to do with it at this juncture in my life.

I have a Bible, given to me by a friend. I'm in a rough spot in my life, as some of my closer friends in the blogosphere have been told. Got the job, got the apartment, got the friends and the car and I'm doing pretty well for myself, considering how things in the past have gone for me since I started SFTSM. But it's hard, it really is. I'm lonely. I mean, I have Fake Redhead here with me, and she is a grand friend, don't get me wrong. But a lot of nights, my mind is full of so many thoughts that I just can't voice to her because while we have gone through a lot of the same hardships in life, there are some things that she hasn't suffered through, not to mention we don't have the same mindset in a lot of ways, so she wouldn't understand what is bothering me most of the time. I don't want to burden her with that weight, so I just keep my mouth shut.

I can see myself blogging a bit more now, and she can turn her phone into a wifi hotspot long enough for me to upload a post whenever the fancy strikes me. Don't expect me to start posting as often as Tam, though. Don't get your hopes up quite yet, ya'll. Being a single mother, even with a roommate who is a parent and is willing to help, I'm still strapped for free time and the urge to write, whether it be a blog post, a letter, or pure fiction (not all can be found here, smart asses). But I do have a feeling that I might be able to crank out a small handful of posts in a month's time, and who knows, hopefully sooner or later we will actually have internet here.

But anyway. What was I saying? Oh yes. The Bible.

I'm lonely. I have a few friends, but not many. I'm on my own, with no one I can turn to at any hour of the day and night. I'm pretty lost most of the time, and I must admit, I'm drowning under the weight of trying to both be a responsible adult and survive and live up to the expectations that people have of me. Remember the blog post a few months back, where I said I wanted to just be ME, and not the Dickless Guy Friend for a while? Yeah, shit like that.

But... I'm alone. I realize that. I can feel myself going down that slippery slope into the territory of being a Bad Person, and I don't want to turn into that. And right now, I need some sort of guidance. I'm not saying I believe in God quite yet, or that I'm ready to start attending church. I don't know what I believe, but I do know that I don't want to feel so damned alone. And several close personal friends have suggested that maybe going to church and praying would be good for me. Help my soul find some peace, maybe rid myself of some of the anguish that I carry daily. Good ol' Stud Roomie from last year understood it, he understood me very well. He knew how to read my moods and adapt to them, and he knew how to calm me down from a fiery rage with barely a word. I miss him, more than words can describe. That man truly was my best friend.

Who knows. Maybe I will start to believe. Maybe I will go to church. Who knows, maybe some day, against all odds, some of you weirdos will receive invitations to a wedding starring me that takes place in a church. It's too early to tell, of course, but anything can happen, right? That's what they keep telling me, anyway.


I have a Christmas tree in the trunk of my car at the moment. After hauling groceries up and putting them away (I live in a second story apartment), my out-of-shape ass was too damn tired to go back down and haul the tree up. It's a light little thing, just a four foot fake one because there's no room in my apartment for a full sized monstrosity, plus they didn't have the one I wanted in six foot size. But still. Those stairs are a bitch when you're fat and out of shape. But there's a tree, I promise, and ornaments, and everything. Fake Redhead loves this time of year, and she's looking forward to decorating and doing the Christmas thing with me and Daniel. I may have to make some peppermint hot cocoa and allow her to play Christmas music while we decorate it at some point this weekend. I hate Christmas music, like no other. There's only so many ways you can re-do the same songs before they make me want to shove an ice pick in my ear. Fake Redhead, of course, ADORES Christmas music. Go figure. But I think for the sake of doing the holiday thing right, I'll let it slide for one day and she can play the music. Maybe we can even get Daniel to understand it. Last year the holiday explanation sort of fell by the wayside, but now Daniel is talking and understanding a lot better, so I think when we decorate the tree, we'll try and get him excited for it.


Daniel gets to go see his dad pretty regularly, I will say. Every couple of weeks we drive down for a weekend visit, because I live two hundred miles away. I would have preferred to live in Springfield, because that town is more my pace and my size, and I have a lot of fun there, but last time I tried finding a job, it just didn't work. Really enjoy the town, but even if it was just me, I couldn't even begin to make ends meet on a hundred bucks a week from donating plasma.

Every now and then Daniel goes to stay with his dad for a week. I'm mature enough to admit that I occasionally need a break, and though his dad is a raging twat and we only get along in small increments, he does love his son. He's just not so great with being a full-time father, so weekends and occasional week-long visits work. He stayed with him over Thanksgiving break, and the week before Christmas he's gonna go stay again with Dad. I'll pick him up the weekend before Christmas, and then we're gonna go visit my very good friend Madame Lawyer in St. Louis.

Madame Lawyer is a new character in this story, too. She's pretty fantastic. She says she's gonna adopt me, because I've helped her with some personal issues, so she's looking out for me whenever she can. And hey, who couldn't use a lawyer in their corner from time to time? But she's been pretty close over the past couple of months, and she's like “Gurl, you need a break. Bring Daniel out for a weekend and we'll go to the zoo and we'll go ice skating and we'll do all manner of stuff and you'll have a nice little mini-vacation.”

… Okay, cool with me. The Civic gets fantastic gas mileage, so it won't cost me an arm and a leg for gas like it would with the Death Star, though I still miss that truck like nobody's business. So I'm gonna go to St. Louis the weekend before Christmas, and Daniel and Fake Redhead and I will have Christmas here in Casa de Snark. Don't know quite yet what we'll do as far as Christmas dinner goes, but hey, that's not the important part. Family and friends and love are.


So that's how things are rocking here. I got a feeling you will start to see more blog posts from me, simply for the catharsis. I've got so many thoughts spinning like a whirlwind in my skull I fear I'll go insane most days, so this would definitely help. It's why I started writing here to begin with, right? Why not take advantage of that?

Goodnight, internet. Til next time, same Snark time, same Snark channel.