Honey Do...

I have an absolutely atrocious memory so I'm just gonna jot down a few things that i'd like to talk about and maybe i'll slowly get to them.

• Why I am in a world of trouble for being a weakling and a liar.
• Why being a weakling and a liar can really hurt those that you love.
• Why I sometimes feel like not being where I wish I were in life makes me feel like a sinner.
• Why my sister thinks i'm going to burn in hell.
• Why my sister has no right to judge me when she's about as pious as Lil Kim.
• Why I can't sleep at night anymore when my car isn't in front of the house.
• Why it sometimes makes me feel like i'm being fondled when my sisters or mother try to have a heart to heart with me or I with them.

Cool, that's it for now. I'll add more if it comes to me.

Pop Rocks...

Ughh....I don't know what that title means but that is what I feel like I have in my head right now. By the way, Happy Memorial Day...anyway, back to me. Just when I thought I had my life somehow on track it starts to wander. My recipe for brownies is awesome, it goes a little something like this....damn, see what I mean?

I remember when I was twenty one, someone asked me why people felt like they needed to find themselves. I gave the dumbest answer for several reasons. One, because I was a twenty one year old dumbass who that thought she knew everything and also because I think I was trying to empress that person with my maturity and levelheadedness. I think my immaturity was the only thing I exhibited that day. I'm screwed on so many levels for that second reason but that's for another day. I answered if I remember correctly that I think everyone already knows who they are and that people are just being pretentious, dramatic and phony if they say they need to "find" themselves. I mean, what does that mean? You need to find yourself, where are you, you're right here. I didn't understand it then but boy I get it now.

I am able to admit now that I wasn't very wise at twenty one, not even very smart. I am nothing like the person that I was five years ago. I am still a spineless little baby, that can only speak up for herself under and incredible amount of pressure. I still think that I know everything but I am now willing to admit when I am wrong, if only to myself. I can't really explain it but all I can say is that if were to actually have done all of the idiotic things that I had claimed I didn't need time to wait to do five years ago, i'd be seriously screwed right now. I remember saying that I didn't need to wait until I was thirty to think about marriage because I know who I am and what I want and why should I wait. Only a weak person would wait for that....can you believe that shit.

Well, God bless carrot sticks that I never got married and had babies because that isn't what I wanted and only now am I able to admit it to myself without feeling like some sort of Godless monster, that's also another story for another day.

I am still a complete wreck of a person that has spine that is constantly collapsing and a guilt complex the size of texas and a constant knot in her stomach that only allow for about two meals a day. I am a good being though. I like this writing thing, I should do it more often, I might get better at it.

P.S. I should stop using I so much in my posts. It's about me but goodness....just realised that.

Peach Pie and why I am a Master BS Artist.

Ok, I'm screwed. I have lived with the belief that I hate Pie since I was a small child. Who would want to eat jelled, gooey fruit encased in a salty crust. I love Chicken pot pie but that is a savory dish so it's understandable. To this day I can't tell you what apple pie or cherry pie taste like because the thought of eating them makes me sick to my stomach. Cinnamon covered, piping hot, limp apples does not sound appetizing at all.

I remember when I was seven and my family had moved from West Virginia to Maryland. A very nice lady from our new church took my older sister and I to a Carnival. We had so much fun, the Ferris Wheel and the Stuffed Animals. The Cotton Candy and the Pop Corn. I had never been to a Carnival before so I had the time of my life. Given my current track record with good times, I should have known that some tired shit was about to happen.

After the Carnival this nice lady took us to her house to have some dessert. I was ready for a nice thick slice of Chocolate Cake with a big dollop of Cool Whip or Cherry Jello. Do you know what this woman did. Here I sit awaiting my Chocolate when instead of Cake she slides a hot, bubbling bowl of Blackberry Cobbler under my nose. I have never in my life gone so quickly from a feeling of sheer happiness to complete horror in my life.

I was brought up in a household where my mother, every night as we all ate dinner would tell me " don't stuff yourself, If you don't want it don't eat it". Unfortunately, I was and am a rather timid person. How could I tell this nice lady that had entertained me all day that I didn't want to eat the cobbler that she had prepared for my sister and I. I can still smell that cobbler, sour and nauseating. The juices were almost black but left a purple residue on the sides of my bowl and the crust was still white and gooey.

That was the exact moment that I became a pretty great conversationalist. I lifted that fork to my mouth a hundred times and as soon as she would make a statement I would immediately drop it and ask her all about her flour garden, her children in college, her devotion to the lord. This must have gone on for an hour as my sister who has no problem with pie (or any other food as a matter of fact) giggled under her breath and kicked me under the table. I can't believe that she really thought I was interested but it worked and I never tasted that black disaster.

Anyway....This past Mother's day, I decided that I would make my mom a peach pie. I have never baked a pie in my life and especially never from scratch but I figured that homemade was the only way to go. After I removed it from the oven I couldn't help but appreciate the beauty of my creation and decided that I would take a little bite just to see if it tasted as bad as I had always imagined. Well, maybe it was the bourbon, maybe it was the holiday but I'll be damned if it wasn't delicious. I ate two pieces that night with a big scoop of Ice Cream. Everyone loved it so I decided to make another one yesterday. Maybe it was the memory of my Mother's day pie or maybe it was the adrenaline rush that I get when people compliment my cooking but this one was even better.

Damn...All these years. This is the last thing that I need. I am trying to diet and be healthy so the last thing that I need is another confection obsession. You see, I have a sweet tooth so strong that it's about to fall out and I can't afford to like pie now.

My freezer is already full of fudge pops, my cabinet full of Little Debbie that little twit. I'm just not gonna make them any more. Damn...Well atleast I learned how to hold a proper conversation because of this...

Six more years and I'll be perfect.

I don't know, I think that I have it together and then....I don't know. I have been trying to live a healthier lifestyle for about six years now with great success. I exercise five days a week and I eat a very healthful diet. It amazes me how much a person can change during the course of a six year journey and I am proud of how far i've come.

I started off with the goal of eating normal meals but without the snacking in between. This worked for a while but I quickly learned that depriving myself of the things that I love was a sure way of ended up curled into a ball in my bedroom clutching a chocolate cake. I wondered why I wasn't seeing the results I wanted when I was working my ass of and after six years I finally figured it out.

I eat too damn much. I recently bought a food scale and cannot believe how much more than the serving size that I have been eating. I feel like a damn fool, all these years I thought that maybe I had a metabolic problem or wasn't working out properly and come to find out that I am just a bit to heavy handed with the serving spoon. I'm more pissed about the fact that it took me all these years to figure this simple thing out than the fact that I could have reached my fitness goals a long time ago if I had only known to buy a scale earlier.

Friggin Scale. Ain't it crummy though to know that even too much super healthy food can make you fat. It's not like i'm sittin around eating ice cream all day.

My major problem though is that I have a sweet tooth so strong that it is almost rotten. More on how I keep working out for an hour and a half and then go into a blind frenzy and eat something ridiculous and ruin it all later.

Holdin on to Shit.

"If you can't remember it you don't need it, just let your mind be junky and you room clean".

My sister is sitting in the floor of her bedroom with a painters mask on mumbling to herself about all of the shit she's holding on to. There is a bag full of business cards, old report cards, and dirty pieces of paper that she is finally getting rid of. She is in the background saying "I'm happy I can be your little pitiful ass muse". That is what she is tonight.

We go through this every couple of weeks. I swear that it coincides with her Crimson Tide. She is 31 years old and feels like a complete failure at life so now I have to watch her throw away a bunch of stuff that she doesn't need but not before she looks at every single ticket stub, candy wrapper and balled up tissue. I don't know what to say. I don't understand how not being where you want to be in life ends in someone throwing away all of their things but she does this alot. I guess it's something to do to keeping yourself busy.

Some people just don't see their own worth or their own potential. Sometimes I wish that she would shut up and cut this Francis Farmer shit out. I never believed it until recently but healthy people really can drive themselves crazy and she is doing it. She isn't happily employed, even though she has a beauty license and is a very talented musician. Even though she is a kind and giving person with a sharp mind and a lot to say. She isn't married so she's a loser. She's as nutty as a squirrel turd but she will be ok. I have to go because I hear the sound of someone's mind snapping..

I want my Ba Ba!!!

Last Night, as I prepared my dinner with tears streaming down my face I realized a few things. First off, I noticed how hard it is to chop vegetables with a sharp knife when you can't see for the tears running down your face. I also noticed how hard it is to keep quiet when crying so that no one will hear you but your hands are covered in onion juice so you just cry harder..

My Father passed away seven years ago when I was 19. I have noticed since then that the things that I would once have brushed off and gotten over have now become mini dramas in my life. I have become so anxious over the last seven years and it amazes me that it took me so long to realize why.

My niece lost my car keys last night. Big deal huh, I have another set. Just go and get a copy made and get over it. Let's just say that I didn't get over it. Though I am proud that I didn't yell at her because it was just an accident, I can't believe that something like that ended in me crying over my fruit salad. A few years ago I would have been pissed but I would have been ok. Today all I can do is worry that I might lose the set I have and then have no, keys. What if my car alarm goes off and I can't turn the damn thing off because I have no panic button now. What if someone finds the keys and steals my car? What if?????? I can't believe that I have become this person.

To be fair, I was used to being taken care of when my dad was alive and afterwards everything just went crazy. My sister has/had the boyfriend from hell who after my dad passed went out of his way to make our lives quite unbearable for about three or four years but that's another story for another day and I will tell it. That shit has probably made me more anxious than anything and now I feel like I am just always waiting for the next pile of crap to fall into my lap. It never seems to end, stupid pointless shit that you can't learn a lesson from. Like God is just doing stuff to keep me busy. Why does my house have to be broken into, why do my tires have to be slashed, why does my sister love an asshole? I'm getting ahead of myself.

Back to the fruit salad. I don't want anyone to think i'm a wreck from a terrible family. Actually I come from a typical loving family that goes through shit like every family. We are like the onion family, there are many layers. Fortunately the good times usually outweigh the bad times. I feel though, like I am always waiting for the other shoe to drop. I turn everything into a mini drama in my mind but I feel so stupid for feeling this way that I have to keep it to myself and it just festers. I feel like I don't have anyone to talk to because opening up to my family makes me feel like i'm being felt up. You know what I mean....

When he first died I tried so hard to make everyone think I was ok that I think I may have really believed it and now the true feeling are making themselves known in the oddest ways. I buy his favorite foods sometimes even though I hate them. I talk to him when i'm alone. I cry over missing keys. I guess that is why I have this blog. Even if no one reads it, I feel good being able to communicate it to someone. I gotta relax. I feel though like I am coming out on the other end of the tunnel....Ps. I want my keys back though dammit.