1) Having to sign in under “OLD BLOGGER” to do this stuff….I HATE IT!!
like I freaking NEED that shit? Really? REALLY? Quite frankly, I haven’t figured out the old version yet, much less feeling stupid and inadequate for not signing up for the new one yet, and now, I’m taunted at the sign in. How about you sign in under Bite Me….Or Sod Off.

2) James Brown died. The first “season” of me trying pot…( I was never very good at it, only tried to be cool in front of the cool folk…At the age of 27-28) My tour partner came over before we left for our Sunday drive to ….probably Cleveland and said, “ ask me why I’m James Brown.” My response....”uhhhh, why are you James Brownnnnn???” him-“Cuz Papa Got A Brand New Bag!” Adios friend. Your songs will carry you on. Heahhhhh!!!!!

3) I’m not so sure I want to eat cloned meat.

4) President Ford Died. While I think this should most certainly come before the cloned meat topic, it is where it is. I am a sucker for a Presidential Funeral. I guess Nixon’s was the first I was caught up in. Then Nancy clutching Ronnie’s coffin. Doesn’t matter to me what you are, red/blue/elephant/donkey/green/paisley. It’s significant and awe inspiring to see all the living Presidents lined up in that first row…and looking back on a life so fully covered in the press. Would that each of us had a press reel to roll at the end. With amazing music, surely scalped from West Wing episodes…..Rest In Peace President Ford. or….That’ll do Pig. That’ll do.

5.) Aulde Lang Syne always makes me cry.

Christmas is over. Flew by it seems. I like this time of year. I love and have always loved the holidays. I know I had stress during the high school years of a fresh divorce, but thankfully, those have dimmed and the best remain. Until this year. This year has been chock full of crap, and pain and tears, and very little laughter to be certain. . . And I feel cheated that it’s over. Going over it all in my mind, the choice was mine to feel the stress, to let it contain me, to fret and worry and carry all the nasty feelings around about Dad, and having to deal with his shit all over again…And things have been rocky in my own home…And and and and bla bla bla.
It’s over. and I feel like I missed it. My house is still decorated, the lights are still hanging, the tree is still up and I missed it. I feel empty and sad and just generally funky. I have so many thoughts that would be appropriate to jot down here, but it seems stupid, and redundant. Life is different, and while I’m a huge advocate of change….Maybe only the kind I pick out. Get over it, yes? yes.

But time has passed and life is looking ok again. I’m really trying to focus on the future. I feel ugly and fat and gross and generally negative, but I want to change that. The YMCA is calling my name. I am making choices again, and choosing me and not someone else and their stress and funk. I have decided to buy a house this year be it with Phil, or without him. And I gave away a baby kitty the weekend we did Christmas with my Dad et.al, gave the fat grey one to a fantastic mommy, but I cried all the way home and it broke my heart so much that I am not giving anymore away. Two are going to Mary and the other two are staying with me. So I’ll have four cats when I buy said house, but there are so many other things that could be worse, I’m not even worried about it.

I’m excited about being excited again. About Possibilities. About dreaming bigger. . . hell, just dreaming.

I have zero money, absolutely not one inkling about how to buy a house, or to get my financial life in order, or any of that stuff, but what the hell…people do it every day. and while I feel like it most of the time, fact remains that I’m not stupid, so that’s in my corner. We’ll see.

Meanwhile, a Happy New Year to you from me and my kitties. Stormy “the bird” Soprano and KiKiMama(not pictured),Charlie, Scrunch, Charlotte and Sam.

SO I sent out an APB to local friends today, seeking help, solice and drugs. That was after the insomnia filled night, and the early a.m. blogging and emailing. I get to work today, and lemme tell ya, it was a doozie. (more later on that) But I do have exactly 6 minutes to sit between clients and I happen to look out and see one of the Purple Pool Gal Pals pull up in the MiniVan. . . hmmm. The hell? I haven’t done her hair since the summer, and haven’t seen her since we closed the Purple Pool….

She gets out, looking so put together with her makeup and ass long bright christmas red nails, and she’s carrying a shiney little gift bag with pink tissue paper perfectly scrunched out of the top….

Four Valium.

Thank you very much.

I get home and there are fortysevenmillionfivehundredsixtytwothousand emails from all the friends, networking to get this to me, offering words, horoscopes, solace, humor, food, drink, and themselves as a venting/sacrifice kind of thing.

Tears. just gushing down my face.
Now, I know I’ve said that I’m on the edge here, and that the tears are always at the ready, but this is what it feels like to be loved.

And I need to work on remembering that.

Because a whole lot of the time I just feel alone, and out here paddling up this shitty creek with no one to pour the margaritas. It’s not true, I get that, I always know in my heart of hearts that it’s not true, but seeing it there in my inbox, in my shiney pink and iridecent gift bag full of drugs…

I am blessed. A Christmas miracle.

To top it off, I have hit 3499.00 for these two weeks. that is not counting tips. Minus 95.00 for income that I only get on the first of the month, and that’s what I’m getting 60% of.

To get 65%, one has to bring in 3600.oo….but I am pretty effing proud of myself…this is the end of my first whole year at getting paid for this and I believe I dun good.

Now. Off to get a beer, possibly order a pizza and pop one of those loverly gifts I recieved before I head to the bed. Yes, it’s only 7pm on a friday night, but I’m so doing it.

I think I have insomnia. I haven’t been able to sleep. AT ALL. Maybe the first two hours then flop, wide awake, the voices in my head a roaring chorus of heckle and jeckle. I’m working about 45 hours this week…so am physically exhausted when I get home. I know that’s not it. I’ve been concious of the caffene intake late in the day/evening as the older I get the more that affects me…I hate it. I hate not sleeping. Laying there, watching the clock thinking I should have taken a sleep aid, but I missed the window. Watching the clock. Realizing that I’m closing my eyes so tight that I’m causing wrinkles to form. Tension reigns. Trying the deep breathing, the meditating….nada. zilch. bupkiss. I got NUTHIN.

Christmas this weekend with all the family. Saturday is Mom and bonus Dad and his kids and my sis, et. al. It’ll be ok, I suppose. There will be two children to act as buffers, but I’ll be racing there after a completly full day at work, frantic and exhausted. Sunday is the biggie. Doing the Dad/bonus Mom thing, and while that marriage is dissolving into a puddle of lies and stinky crap, we’ll all gather under the same roof and put on our smiley faces and pretend that the big fucking pink cheating elephant opening presents over there in the corner is really a nice member of the family and absolutly nothing what-so-ever is wrong.

I asked around yesterday if anyone had any valium. I’m on the edge, the voices in my head are loud and rambunctious, tears are available at any given moment…i needs me a nerve pill. I think just a teensey weensey little hit of calm will help. Bonus mom has already gotten permission from her doc to take a double dose of the effexor she’s already on. Maybe we’ll just all sit around with glazed eyes and look very Stepford-ish.

we’ll see.

Meanwhile…I have hit my 55% commission on this weeks’ check and I have today’s appointments still to go…there’s a very slight chance I could get 60%. That’d be freakin awesome. So the 40someodd ass hours are/were worth it. mindnumbing, but worth it.

Sometimes I wonder if I’d just be better off nailing the door shut with myself and the cats inside.
Sometimes I wonder if relationships are worth any of it.
Sometimes I wonder how I got to where I am.
Sometimes I wonder if I’ve really been where I’ve been.
Sometimes I wonder if this is really where I’m supposed to be.
Sometimes I wonder if this is as good as it gets, and I should stay put.
Sometimes……I wonder.
ennui.

Some snow…and now a house full of 7 cats. How did I come to have 7 cats? They are five weeks old…three more and they go off to their homes…makes me sad sad sad to think about that. I’m keeping Charlotte…grey/white/delicious.

Fearful of being the stupid cat blogger, I’ll just post a few of each and leave it at that.