I'm very, very sick.

And what is this ailment?

Why, it is me. I am so, so sick of myself.

I am sick of being late.
I am sick of my apparent inability to accurately judge time and how long it will take to accomplish any given thing.
I am sick of clutter.
I am sick of my inability to effectively de-clutter.
I am sick of my ability to re-clutter.
I am sick of doing almost everything alone.
I am sick of my ill-proportioned body.
I am sick of my desire to incessantly eat chocolate.
I am sick of my inability to say what I want to say, when I want to say it.
I am sick of not knowing what to say when I want to say something.
I am sick of social anxiety.
I am sick of being accused of doing things I have not done and I am sick of being treated like scum.
I am sick of working long hours for paltry wages, and I am sick of working where I do.
I am sick of being sad,
I am sick of being alone,
I am sick of wanting something I cannot have,
and I am sick of wanting something that I do not need.


Laura, Edie, and Piñatas

As of yet, we, as in my little family of me, Torrin, and Mira, do not really have any traditions to speak of (unless being late everywhere counts). I didn't grow up with any real traditions, either. When it was time for my birthday when I was a kid, it meant this: that I wasn't going to have a birthday party at my house. When my grandmother lived in town, we had them there, with a friend or two, but once she moved away...not so much.
My mom wouldn't let anyone come to our house because of the cockroaches. Nice, huh? When I was in third grade, I invited a friend to spend the night without telling my mother, and I think that when the friend arrived at our door with her mother and all of her stuff, including snacks, she was too stunned to turn them away. That was Laura.
When I was in seventh grade, I got my second sleepover. By that point, her marriage to my stepdad had fallen apart and the house was well on its way to being in shambles, with too many people in it most of the time. That night, my mom's then-boyfriend made both me and my friend cry. That was Edie.
And just last night, I painted two balloons with a flour/water mixture and many, many strips of newspaper lovingly cut by Torrin. Today the balloons were dry enough to pop; they will be Torrin's birthday piñatas after they're painted tomorrow. He had two last year, made by students at the Park Teen Center where I was working then, and now he'll have home-made piñatas again this year. And I think that's far nicer of a tradition to keep going than cockroaches and crying.


I'm Still Lame. And My Kids Are Still Cute.

There's Mira on the potty for you all. I know there is an 'all,' despite the lack of comments, b/c I see the individual visits on a little graph when I log in. Anyhow. Mira goes on the potty pretty much every morning, unless Mommy doesn't get out of bed soon enough. If I were able to stay at home with her for a few days in a row, and not have to take care of the house much, I bet she could be trained pretty quickly. But since I DO work over 40 hrs/wk, and I AM the only adult in this house, and I AM losing my mind, it won't happen too soon.

My ongoing frustration of late is beginning to become apparent to me in the form of social anxiety. This is nothing new.

Just today, in the span of three minutes, I had the chance to talk to at least two people whom I would have liked very much to at least exchanged hellos. Neither of these people probably knows how much I would have valued even a simple greeting. I don't initiate conversations and I probably come off as either aloof, oblivious, or both, when I am in fact neither.

We were out riding our bikes today. Before riding by these person's homes, I had imagined probable dialogues in my head, rehearsed them a few times each. In front of the first home, just as we were going by, I saw the first person come to her door. What timing! Then, as we approached the second persons' home, I saw him pull up in a car. Again, what timing! A perfect opportunity, in each case, for me to put on the brakes and say, "Oh! Hey! How are you?"

No. Nothing. Instead I do my best to look focused on what I am doing...as opposed to what I am not doing.

I have many more examples, but I won't bother to elaborate.

Saturday May 19, 2007 - 10:42pm (PST)


I'm Lame. But My Kids Are Cute.

I'm feeling kinda bi-polar lately. In recent weeks, a months-long trend of rising happiness swept upwards at a courageous pace. For no apparent reason, I was happy. Just happy. Comments and situations flew by, touching my heart but failing to disrupt the giddy two-step-stepping. Everyday things, like a blade of grass pushing through the wet earth or a bright bud popping out from a green stem, triggered wide grins. Those silly, private smiles between you and noone else that are perhaps the most genuine of happiness since there is nary an outsider observing. No performance for anyone.

Well, that happiness came to a peak. I'm not happy anymore. I still smile, but I'm just as likely to be brooding. The stress wasn't new; the busy-ness hadn't ever stopped and the frustration hadn't ever dropped off of the radar. But it had only been a minor distraction as I sped off to work, late, again, or whatever. Now it's buzzing under my skin, an uneasy, attention-craving nervousness that inspires me to run, run away and never return.

Sunday May 13, 2007 - 10:57pm (PST)



Can't believe I forgot to post a link to some of our Chicago pics: http://s105.photobucket.com/albums/m230/JacindaStar/Chicago/

AND the pooey news is that my car got keyed while I was gone. I don't have a garage, I park in a drive off of the alley behind the house, but dude. Now my car looks ghetto-ized.

Behold:Nevermind. This crap computer has decided it doesn't recognize the SD memory card from my camera anymore. WTF? What a PITA. Hopefully it'll work after being rebooted. Anyway, the general gist is that the driver's side of my car, from the front bumper corner to the opposite edge of the driver door, is now decorated with ugly loops. Terribly unaesthetic, and probably not too cheap to fix, either. BOO.

Thursday July 5, 2007 - 09:05pm (PST)

FUCK ;(--Amber
Tuesday July 10, 2007 - 10:28am (PST)

Author: anonymous

Is the damage higher than your insurance deductable?-amber, the potty mouth--amber
Tuesday July 10, 2007 - 10:28am (PST)

Author: anonymous

I can't remember if my deductible is $1000 or $500. Maybe I should call and ask? But then, that'll also require taking my car somewhere to get an estimate. Ick. I'm trying to find someone with a buffer first.
Tuesday July 10, 2007 - 08:36pm (PST)

LOVE Giordano's pizza! I would have recommended the stuffed spinach. ;-) You guys really did a lot in Chicago! wow!
Wednesday July 11, 2007 - 07:15pm (PST)


Soooo Sleepy.

Someday I will get this whole scheduling thing down.
I don't know what it is, but ever since I had Mira I cannot get anywhere on time and I do not keep any semblance of a regular sleep schedule. Mira is 18 months old. Her sleep pattern is pretty regular, but I can't seem to pull it together for myself. I stay up late one night...really late...so then the next day, I'm beat. If I'm being really stupid, I'll stay up late again, doing things that may or may not be considered relevant or important. Then, I'll be so tired the next night that I fall asleep while putting the kids to bed...leaving the dishes unwashed, laundry unfolded, kids' clothes for the next day unpicked, etc. So the next night I'm scrambling around again, and stay up too late.
I need balance.

Wednesday May 2, 2007 - 10:13pm (PST)