"...people say i'm the life of the party
'cuz i tell a joke or two
altho i might be laughing loud and hearty
deep inside i'm blue...
so take a good look at my face
you'll see my smile is out of place
if you look closer it's easy to trace
the tracks of my tears..."
---Smokey Robinson & The Miracles
Motown Records, 1965.
yep. that about sums me up in a nutshell...with emphasis on nuts.
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
it's so hard to say goodbye to yesterday......
suicide. i have thought about it a lot these days. as much inner pain as i have, i want to end it all, but, at the same time, i'm afraid to die, which probably is why i'm still here. having my kids and my grandbaby is what's saving my life. had i never had children, i would have been dead a long time ago -- probably from an overdose of pills. using a gun/knife/any sharp object where massive blood is spattered, flowing or otherwise grosses me out.
why am i feeling like this? because i feel nobody cares. i have been a failure as a human being, a failure as a daughter, as a mother, and i dont think i'd be missed if i were to take my life.
this overwhelming sadness, no one understands. my eldest daughter gets mad with me when she sees me depressed, and the euphemisms spew from her mouth: "everybody gets depressed, Mama. you need to snap out of it." this coming from my daughter the psychology major.
she'd think i took my life to "get attention" because "everyone gets depressed." i doubt if she'd even bother coming to my funeral (which would be closed casket at my request). she'd probably say, "Mama didnt have to do this. All she needed to do was get out of the house and be around happy people. She did this for attention. Wasnt nothing wrong with her."
*sigh* it's so hard...to say goodbye...to yesterday.....
why am i feeling like this? because i feel nobody cares. i have been a failure as a human being, a failure as a daughter, as a mother, and i dont think i'd be missed if i were to take my life.
this overwhelming sadness, no one understands. my eldest daughter gets mad with me when she sees me depressed, and the euphemisms spew from her mouth: "everybody gets depressed, Mama. you need to snap out of it." this coming from my daughter the psychology major.
she'd think i took my life to "get attention" because "everyone gets depressed." i doubt if she'd even bother coming to my funeral (which would be closed casket at my request). she'd probably say, "Mama didnt have to do this. All she needed to do was get out of the house and be around happy people. She did this for attention. Wasnt nothing wrong with her."
*sigh* it's so hard...to say goodbye...to yesterday.....
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
tears of a clown
i'm sitting at this computer trying very, very hard to not cry. even though i really really want to.
why? i dont know. maybe it's horomonal; maybe it's because i just feel so much pain inside me that i cannot explain.
as a kid, i would find myself crying my eyes out, usually after my mother would go off on me and make me feel unwanted.
as i grew into puberty, i kinda learned to keep my feelings and emotions in check. it worked for a while until i fell in love at age 14. that relationship was cancelled out by my mother, who really didnt want me talking to boys at that age anyways, no thanks to the strict laws of the Temple.
it was 1973, i was a freshman in high school and i fell in love with this fine boy who was diggin' on me at the time too. i wont mention his name, but i will say he was fy-y-y-yiiiinnne. smooth brown skin, coal-black curly hair and a pair of the softest lips on the planet. when he first kissed me, omigod, goosebumps broke out all over my body. i got weak in the knees and could have kissed him forever.
he used to leave love letters in my locker, and one time, he left a heart-shaped rhinestone necklace along with another love letter in my locker. lemme tell ya, i NEVER took that necklace off. i wore it every day, even when the gold plating began to fade.
and with that, suddenly i became popular for oh, 15 minutes. however, as i mentioned before, that love affair was soon to snuffed out.
the day my mother broke us up, was the day i fell apart. i cried every day, while the song "How Could I Let You Get Away" by the Spinners played over and over on my little beat-up record player. i played that song so much, i nearly wore the vinyl off the damn 45. that's just how much i hurt.
after i finally got over him, i learned how to be funny. i'd fire off one-liners which had what few friends i had laughing. but they just didnt know, when i was alone, i would weep.
and to this day, it's the same. i can fire off one-liners, and learned twisted humor which my guy friends understand, but to the regular, humorless nitwit has no clue.
"the tears of a clown.....when there's no one else around....."
why? i dont know. maybe it's horomonal; maybe it's because i just feel so much pain inside me that i cannot explain.
as a kid, i would find myself crying my eyes out, usually after my mother would go off on me and make me feel unwanted.
as i grew into puberty, i kinda learned to keep my feelings and emotions in check. it worked for a while until i fell in love at age 14. that relationship was cancelled out by my mother, who really didnt want me talking to boys at that age anyways, no thanks to the strict laws of the Temple.
it was 1973, i was a freshman in high school and i fell in love with this fine boy who was diggin' on me at the time too. i wont mention his name, but i will say he was fy-y-y-yiiiinnne. smooth brown skin, coal-black curly hair and a pair of the softest lips on the planet. when he first kissed me, omigod, goosebumps broke out all over my body. i got weak in the knees and could have kissed him forever.
he used to leave love letters in my locker, and one time, he left a heart-shaped rhinestone necklace along with another love letter in my locker. lemme tell ya, i NEVER took that necklace off. i wore it every day, even when the gold plating began to fade.
and with that, suddenly i became popular for oh, 15 minutes. however, as i mentioned before, that love affair was soon to snuffed out.
the day my mother broke us up, was the day i fell apart. i cried every day, while the song "How Could I Let You Get Away" by the Spinners played over and over on my little beat-up record player. i played that song so much, i nearly wore the vinyl off the damn 45. that's just how much i hurt.
after i finally got over him, i learned how to be funny. i'd fire off one-liners which had what few friends i had laughing. but they just didnt know, when i was alone, i would weep.
and to this day, it's the same. i can fire off one-liners, and learned twisted humor which my guy friends understand, but to the regular, humorless nitwit has no clue.
"the tears of a clown.....when there's no one else around....."
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
right back to where i started from
well, so much for this agency. because i havent worked in two years is why my application was rejected. oh well. i shoulda known. like i said in my previous post, i wasnt gonna hold my breath.
the lady from the agency i spoke with this morning at least did refer me to two other home care agencies. i called one and the lady told me i could come down and fill out an application; the other one i left a voice mail message. whether she gets back to me, again, i aint holding my breath.
*sigh* i will go downtown tomorrow AGAIN in this stifling heat and fill out another application. if i get the same response from these people, then i might as well call it a wrap and just resign myself to the fact that it's just not in the cards for me to go back to work.
yep. i'm right back to where i started from. only to me does this shit happen.
the lady from the agency i spoke with this morning at least did refer me to two other home care agencies. i called one and the lady told me i could come down and fill out an application; the other one i left a voice mail message. whether she gets back to me, again, i aint holding my breath.
*sigh* i will go downtown tomorrow AGAIN in this stifling heat and fill out another application. if i get the same response from these people, then i might as well call it a wrap and just resign myself to the fact that it's just not in the cards for me to go back to work.
yep. i'm right back to where i started from. only to me does this shit happen.
Sunday, July 15, 2007
here i go again
yes, here i go again. i'm still drawn to some form of healthcare, and last week i filled out another application for home care/private duty work.
the last time i did was back in June, but it seems like every time i try to attempt to find my way outta this house, something always comes up and sandbags me, and i have to leave it alone.
anyways, i went downtown to this home care agency and filled out the application, but also attaching my resume. the lady who manages the agency said she would call me soon. i aint holding my breath, ok? the pay is crap - $7.60/hr, but i dont care. all i know is i'm tired of being fucking broke in the middle of the month. so i need to get up offa my big fat ass and get busy.
even if i only have one or two clients per week, it's better than nothing, and at least i will have pocket money to take care of whatever bill that sneaks up unexpectedly, or if i just want a pack of squares (the 'hood definition of cigarettes, ok?).
*sighs* like i said, here i go again.....
Friday, July 13, 2007
have a nice fucking day
still in piss-me-off mode. i'm not sure if it's the fucking meds that have me like this, nor do i give a flying fuck. and my fucking computer is acting like a fucking idiot because its low on memory, so every fucking thing i do on this fucker is fucking s-l-o-w. great. just fucking lovely.
i have no cigs and that really adds to my state of pissivity. even tho one of the meds, Wellbutrin XL is suppose to help a person to stop smoking, sheee-iiit. it aint working, a'ight?
once again, i'm gonna try the private duty/home health thing. i know i need to get the fuck up outta this house before i really go off my nut. i dont care if i'm getting peanuts for pay, hell, at least i'll be doing something.
in the meantime, have a nice fucking day.
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
PMS = Possible Murder Suspect
yeah that is exactly how i feel right now. dont have the patience for bullshit or people who think they know what you need and so on.
it's those kind of fuckers that i really really wanna haul off and just slap the taste outta their mouths for simply being stupid and clueless.
however, i refrain from randomly Ike-Turner-ho-bitch-slappin' muthafuckas just on principle and because they just simply annoy the fuck outta me. when people meet me, they think "oh she seems so nice and kindhearted."
bwaaaahahahahahahaha.....ohhhh, if they only knew how i struggle with doing bodily harm by ripping their tonsils out or gouging their fucking eyeballs out simply because i'm in a fucked-up mood and inflicting extreme pain would nearly render me orgasmic. yeah, i said orgasmic, and?
i'm sure some of y'all who are reading this pile of random shit is thinking, "damn, somebody musta pissed miz e off reeeeeeeeeeal bad" fret not dear reader. i'm just in a pissy, funky, wanna give somebody a beatdown, do not fuck with me mood, ai'ght?
and they say still water runs deep.....well they aint met me yet...
Sunday, July 8, 2007
one is the loneliest number that u ever knew......
i just came from my boy James' blog and took the life's number test. just like i figured, i'm a one.
ones tend to be loners, have issues with self-esteem, never feeling or being good enough for anyone, is very critical of self and others, and are good at multitasking (WTF?).
a loner? yep. issues with self-esteem? yep. never feeling or being good enough for people? oh yeah. definitely.
quite frankly, i thought my life's number would be a big, fat zero, because that's how i feel about myself.
*sighs* "one is the loneliest number that you ever knew....." yep, that's me.
ones tend to be loners, have issues with self-esteem, never feeling or being good enough for anyone, is very critical of self and others, and are good at multitasking (WTF?).
a loner? yep. issues with self-esteem? yep. never feeling or being good enough for people? oh yeah. definitely.
quite frankly, i thought my life's number would be a big, fat zero, because that's how i feel about myself.
*sighs* "one is the loneliest number that you ever knew....." yep, that's me.
summertime and the livin aint easy...GRRRRRR
summertime. I.HATE.IT. especially on days like today. my living room A/C is barely squeaking out cold air, and everybody in the house is cranky and irritable.
i went to see my PDoc this past Friday and broke down and cried about how i feel so overwhelmed at times when i keep my grandbaby. he told me the same thing i already knew -- i need to pull away sometimes and have some time to myself. yet i feel so guilty when i do. maybe the maternal instinct i have is so strong, i feel like i'm abandoning my grandbaby when i know that's not true.
thank you to Sid for pointing out to me that it seems my daughter and b/f have their priorities in the wrong order. i feel the same way, but somebody's gotta look out for the baby. and i realize i go above and beyond the call of duty with him. it's almost like he's my son at times. but i know it's not true.
i digress. my doc told me i should get out of the house at least two times a week, so that i can keep some balance in my life and not get overwhelmed. so i think i will go to the library and either go online or find a book to read, even if i stay there until they close. i used to do that on a regular basis way before i even became a grandma, because of my love of books.
dont have much money for buying anything, so i also will go downtown (now that the "Taste of Chicago" will be gone after today) and just people watch.
great. got a mosquito bite under the right side of my chin. summertime and the livin aint easy.
at least not for me. i wish it could just fast-forward to October when the fall season starts *sigh*.
fuck summer. gimme fall or winter anyday.
i went to see my PDoc this past Friday and broke down and cried about how i feel so overwhelmed at times when i keep my grandbaby. he told me the same thing i already knew -- i need to pull away sometimes and have some time to myself. yet i feel so guilty when i do. maybe the maternal instinct i have is so strong, i feel like i'm abandoning my grandbaby when i know that's not true.
thank you to Sid for pointing out to me that it seems my daughter and b/f have their priorities in the wrong order. i feel the same way, but somebody's gotta look out for the baby. and i realize i go above and beyond the call of duty with him. it's almost like he's my son at times. but i know it's not true.
i digress. my doc told me i should get out of the house at least two times a week, so that i can keep some balance in my life and not get overwhelmed. so i think i will go to the library and either go online or find a book to read, even if i stay there until they close. i used to do that on a regular basis way before i even became a grandma, because of my love of books.
dont have much money for buying anything, so i also will go downtown (now that the "Taste of Chicago" will be gone after today) and just people watch.
great. got a mosquito bite under the right side of my chin. summertime and the livin aint easy.
at least not for me. i wish it could just fast-forward to October when the fall season starts *sigh*.
fuck summer. gimme fall or winter anyday.
Thursday, July 5, 2007
aint no rest for the weary
*yawning* it's 7:17 am here in the Windy City and here i am up writing again on this blog.
i kept my grandson overnight again because my youngest daughter decided she wanted to bob-be-cue yesterday, so her and her boyfiend, er, boyfriend got the grill going. i knew that they werent gonna pay attention to Lil'Man (the baby), so once again, i took him with me. no rest for the weary, eh? as i often tell my daughter, "welcome to motherhood."
i dont know what time they finished, nor did i care. i took the baby, bathed him, rubbed him down with some of his baby lotion and i rubbed some of the baby vapor rub on him, gave him his meds, dressed him and got him ready for bed. of course he raised ninety types of hell, but as tired as i already was, i wasnt having it, okay? lights out, TV off, and i swaddled him (and he put up a hellafied fight) tight with one of his blankets, fed him and before too long he was asleep. then i gathered diapers, wipes, and an extra bottle, took my own meds and then i was out for the count.
i'm sure y'all are wondering, 'why doesnt your daughter take care of her own child? why do you always seem to have the little guy?' well, for one, i am his grandma, and tho i am quite tired at times, especially when he's fussy like he is now, i guess, well, it's just the mothering instinct.
plus i remember when i was a new mother, and how tired i was all the time. with my firstborn, she was a handful too, and my mother helped me thru those difficult moments.
so yeah, aint no rest for the weary, but i love that baby with everything in me, and i dont ever want him to feel unloved. yes, he is a little pistola, and yes, i wanna tear out what little hair i have on my head when he's cranky, but i love him just the same.
too wired to go back to sleep, i washed the dishes, washed and sterilized baby bottles and in a minute or two i'm gonna mop this kitchen floor. i have a headache from all the noise last night, and from lack of real time sleep. shit, i feel the way i did when i used to work the graveyard shift; bleary-eyed, a little punchy and looking like stir fried shit this morning. oh well.
i kept my grandson overnight again because my youngest daughter decided she wanted to bob-be-cue yesterday, so her and her boyfiend, er, boyfriend got the grill going. i knew that they werent gonna pay attention to Lil'Man (the baby), so once again, i took him with me. no rest for the weary, eh? as i often tell my daughter, "welcome to motherhood."
i dont know what time they finished, nor did i care. i took the baby, bathed him, rubbed him down with some of his baby lotion and i rubbed some of the baby vapor rub on him, gave him his meds, dressed him and got him ready for bed. of course he raised ninety types of hell, but as tired as i already was, i wasnt having it, okay? lights out, TV off, and i swaddled him (and he put up a hellafied fight) tight with one of his blankets, fed him and before too long he was asleep. then i gathered diapers, wipes, and an extra bottle, took my own meds and then i was out for the count.
i'm sure y'all are wondering, 'why doesnt your daughter take care of her own child? why do you always seem to have the little guy?' well, for one, i am his grandma, and tho i am quite tired at times, especially when he's fussy like he is now, i guess, well, it's just the mothering instinct.
plus i remember when i was a new mother, and how tired i was all the time. with my firstborn, she was a handful too, and my mother helped me thru those difficult moments.
so yeah, aint no rest for the weary, but i love that baby with everything in me, and i dont ever want him to feel unloved. yes, he is a little pistola, and yes, i wanna tear out what little hair i have on my head when he's cranky, but i love him just the same.
too wired to go back to sleep, i washed the dishes, washed and sterilized baby bottles and in a minute or two i'm gonna mop this kitchen floor. i have a headache from all the noise last night, and from lack of real time sleep. shit, i feel the way i did when i used to work the graveyard shift; bleary-eyed, a little punchy and looking like stir fried shit this morning. oh well.
Wednesday, July 4, 2007
fucking 4th of July
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRGGGHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I HATE SUMMERTIME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I HATE THE FUCKING FOURTH OF FUCKING JULY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
since i cant scream at the top of my fucking lungs because muthafuckas in my neighborhood wanna set off fucking firecrackers all fucking night i figure this is my only safe spot where i can let loose and not fucking kill somebody.
i can feel my heart pounding, and murderous thoughts are running through my mind as i sit here and type this shit out. i just wish i could run the fuck away, just hop on a fast train or bus and get the fuck away from here.
destination? anywhere...east or west i dont care....i just wanna get the goddamn hell away from here!
these fools in the 'hood where i live start off early setting off them goddamned firecrackers and M-40's. it sound like a fucking war zone with all that shit going off. they do this shit on Memorial Day, July 4, Labor Day and of course, the granddaddy of em all, NEW FUCKING YEARS EVE.
either my patience level is paper thin, or i'm just getting old and intolerant of a lotta shit. and fucking menopause aint helpin things one goddamned bit. my grandson, God love him, is also a cranky lil shit because he's teething, he has a slight cold and an ear infection, and when he starts screaming, OMIFUCKINGOD, i wanna scream right along with him. i know, i know he's just a baby and he cant help it, bla bla bla, but damn, it's been fucking 20 years since i had a baby in the house. *takes deep breath*
dont misunderstand, i love my grandson. I.LOVE.HIM. but all of the stuff that's going on with him only takes me back down memory lane when i was a new mother and was slowly losing my mind with my firstborn --- who was also a colicky baby. however i think i have spoiled my daughter. i damn near do everything for him -- wash and sterilize his bottles, wash his clothes, feed him, burp him, wipe the shit off his little rump, and sometimes i keep him at night. like now.
and the sound of these goddamned firecrackers aint helpin matters none. i can only hope that these idiots will stop the madness before the fucking sun comes up.
god, i wish i had a drink.....
I HATE SUMMERTIME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I HATE THE FUCKING FOURTH OF FUCKING JULY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
since i cant scream at the top of my fucking lungs because muthafuckas in my neighborhood wanna set off fucking firecrackers all fucking night i figure this is my only safe spot where i can let loose and not fucking kill somebody.
i can feel my heart pounding, and murderous thoughts are running through my mind as i sit here and type this shit out. i just wish i could run the fuck away, just hop on a fast train or bus and get the fuck away from here.
destination? anywhere...east or west i dont care....i just wanna get the goddamn hell away from here!
these fools in the 'hood where i live start off early setting off them goddamned firecrackers and M-40's. it sound like a fucking war zone with all that shit going off. they do this shit on Memorial Day, July 4, Labor Day and of course, the granddaddy of em all, NEW FUCKING YEARS EVE.
either my patience level is paper thin, or i'm just getting old and intolerant of a lotta shit. and fucking menopause aint helpin things one goddamned bit. my grandson, God love him, is also a cranky lil shit because he's teething, he has a slight cold and an ear infection, and when he starts screaming, OMIFUCKINGOD, i wanna scream right along with him. i know, i know he's just a baby and he cant help it, bla bla bla, but damn, it's been fucking 20 years since i had a baby in the house. *takes deep breath*
dont misunderstand, i love my grandson. I.LOVE.HIM. but all of the stuff that's going on with him only takes me back down memory lane when i was a new mother and was slowly losing my mind with my firstborn --- who was also a colicky baby. however i think i have spoiled my daughter. i damn near do everything for him -- wash and sterilize his bottles, wash his clothes, feed him, burp him, wipe the shit off his little rump, and sometimes i keep him at night. like now.
and the sound of these goddamned firecrackers aint helpin matters none. i can only hope that these idiots will stop the madness before the fucking sun comes up.
god, i wish i had a drink.....
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)