Fuck You Too

yeah, it's one of those days. THOSE days.
You know, where supposed friends stab you in the back? That's called the Three of Swords, by the way. Nicely drawn card.

Where other friends stumble over themselves, tossing excuse after excuse for why they can't spare thirty seconds of time a month to say hi.

And two of your supposedly closest local buddies completely space out, and then don't give a flying shit, about your birthday. Where they can't send a text, or a call, or a voicemail... nothing. They don't give a damn.

Call them on it. And what happens? ONE claims that he will try to fix it. We'll see. And the other says "She'll get over it."
Excuse me? I'll WHAT?

You don't know me very well buddy. I'd get over it, perhaps, if this were 4 months ago. I'd get over it if you were fucking capable of saying sorry once in a while. I'd even get over it if you were capable of looking beyond the edge of your nose for fifteen seconds.
But you're not, so I won't.

I can say that if you were here, right now? I'd knock your teeth in and make you swallow them. THEN I'd get over it. I'd get over it just fine.

You wonder why people are willing to hurt you? Because. Of. That. Fucking. Bullshit.

That's why. Because you wouldn't know how to be a good friend if someone printed out the lesson plan and nailed it to your brain. THAT'S why. You're a selfish, no good, self-centered, egotistical bastard.

And I hope you choke on it. Because when you need people the most, they'll have figured it out, and you'll be alone and unwanted. And guess what? Part of me will be laughing. AT you. Not with you, you. Go to hell.

 

P.S.  Don’t worry, none of you that actually bother to read this are the subject of this particular “fuck you”.  But I needed to rant, and rave… and now that I’m feeling a little more drained, maybe, just maybe, I can sleep tonight.  Doubtful… but it could happen.

Hard at Work

So today I was busy putting one of my binders together.  All of my notes on herbalism, meditations, things of that nature.

And I realized… wow.  I have managed to build up a lot of that.  I don’t think a 1 inch binder is going to contain it all.  And it got me to wondering… when exactly did I really manage to store it all?

I’ve been collecting random fun stuff on my computer for a few years now, but it recently occurred to me that having it in a binder would be more beneficial, at least for when I am in my room and not near my computer.

 

Not to mention it is FAR more portable for when I go to a friend’s house.

 

It also made me realize just how far I have come.  It is true that my life is chaos right now, and yet my solid foundation of spirituality makes it… bearable. 

When the children drive me mad, I close my eyes, I breathe.  I remember that which I believe.  And then I am able to continue onwards, even if only for a little while.

That is a precious thing.  And it is that very precious nature that makes me begin to understand, just the tiniest bit, the mindset behind an evangelical fanatic.  If I truly believed that the only way someone could go to heaven and not some horrible hell when they die was to follow my faith… I too might become pushy, desperate, and rude.

It doesn’t mean I forgive them for those attitudes… I still think they should just learn to leave us all alone when we make it clear that they cannot change our minds.  But at least I am finally beginning to understand their so-called ‘logic’.

On the growing of children and loss of sanity

So, on the 3rd of June, 2010, at approximately 2030 (830 pm for you civvies) my daughter lost her very first tooth.  All on her own.  I was inordinately proud let me tell you.  She came running out, buck naked from her bath, and went “Mommy mommy I lost my tooth see!”

It was a wonderful moment.

Of course then it took 3 hours for her to go to sleep because she wanted to try to CATCH the tooth fairy.  Does anyone have any idea how hard it is for the tooth fairy to sneak into a bedroom and leave 2 dollars in quarters while that girl keeps waking up at the slightest sound!?  I was ducking, weaving, hiding behind mountains of toys in an effort to reach her bed.

Booby traps, I kid you not.

But, after thirty minutes of trying… I got those two dollars under her pillow.  And the joy this morning!  The glow in her eyes as she talked about how much money she got for being brave and taking her own tooth out!  It was totally worth it.

Still… that does little to assuage the anger and frustration I get at finding yet MORE of the mess she made earlier this week.  Let me recap!

1.)  Baby Powder… everywhere.

2.) Diaper Rash Ointment… everywhere.

3.) My stick of deodorant… cut up and EVERYWHERE.

 

How she did all this?  I am not quite sure.  But I do know that it’s getting ridiculous, and so help me, my head is going to go flying off intot he cosmos while I flop into the middle of my living room (albeit the trashed living room, thank you baby Tristan) and cry great big pathetic tears of horror.