the wrong side of the bed

i feel sometimes like i am completely happy and content. the very next day i will feel so isolated and desparately alone. of course, there isn't much i do about feeling alone. i mean, once you get all depressed and self-pitying, your ability to motivate yourself to do something about it kind of goes to shit. if i try hanging out with friends to cheer me up it sometimes just makes me feel more lonely. i put so much of my happiness in other peoples's hands. which is dumb because they are kind of busy with themselves.

i am not good at being happy on my own. i feel like i have to piece together feeling good from so many awkward scraps that don't fit well at all. it is like i am trying to make something out of bits of paper, warn out cordouroys, chicken bones, nail clippings, and the occasional nice thing (like stickers and my peanut shaped eraser). you can't make a lot from that. maybe i should try putting something together that is already complete. like making myself out of the visible woman.

i am sewing a monster today, though. on my new sewing machine. that is good, right? i am going to make my uncle some stickers with my sticker maker because i couldn't afford to get him a nice christmas present. that's good too, right?

Labels: complaining, excuses excuses, fucking up, pity party, sad

while home for christmas, i didn't really see any friends, except for sean (he doesn't count because he is very nearly family - i did live with him, you know). jon, hilariously, ran into a friend from middle school at a comic book store. his friend hadn't changed a bit. he still lived with his parents and, according to jon, still talked too loudly.

have i changed at all since middle school or high school? yes, decidely yes. at my good grandmother's christmas event, i learned from my aunt cathy that my mom and brother called me the anti-christ** when i was in high school. i was sort of prone to fits of yelling and i told my family that i hated them all of the time.

in college, i suppose i was much better. i didn't yell as much. i just moped and hated myself in a more quiet way. but, i also got a bit quirkier. i mean, i was a freak in high school. i wore ties in my hair in place of scarves. i kept a giant orange pig in the backseat of my car. when people asked me what it was doing there, i would tell them that it was my car pig. duh. his name was claudius, i think. my friend clare and i developed mock obsessions with sting, woodpeckers, and my friend adam jacks.**** in college i took to dying my hair funny colors, wearing totally insane clothes, including a pair of yellow polyester pants that were too short, and covering myself in temporary tattoos. in high school, i thought it was a sign of weakness to laugh; in college it was spit take after spit take.

anyway, at one point in college, i had bright red hair. not the kind of red i had about 3 years ago, but a more run lola run red. when i had hair that red, men were constantly hollering at me from passing cars. the homeless guys outside of the store where i worked made comments every day. i never have random people tell me i'm attractive.

(okay, once, walking outside a gay bar, a woman told me, "you are beautiful, do you know that?" but that is about it. oh, and i guess there was that jim anchower looking guy who sent a drink to me when i was at paul's club. also, when i worked at a grocery store during high school, a woman told me that i had a nice hairline.)

when i had red hair, it wasn't always flattering what men said to me. i'm suprised i didn't get that "do the drapes match the carpet" thing. mostly guys tell me that i am fat. seriously, drunk men tell me that i am fat all of the time. hey, guess what? i totally know that i am fat. so, i guess, more people think i am fat and ugly than think i am attractive. in fact, at least one boy a day told me i was a "fat cow" when i was in elementary school. "do you want to go with me? just kidding, you are a fat, ugly cow." thanks boys, i get it.

anyway, what is it with guys and red hair? seriously. i like having red hair because i like looking like a comic book character, so it is either red, black, or blonde. black makes me look kind of washed out, and when i am blonde, there are practically arrows drawn on my face pointing out every blemish, so red it is. i kinda hate that i get more attention when i have red hair. aren't i attractive when i have brown hair? my ex-boyfriend sean didn't think i was cute at first (for the record and to be fair, i didn't think he was cute, either). he didn't think i was cute until one day when i had bright red hair and was wearing a white t-shirt and blue pants. he decided i looked like a fisher price little person. um, hot.

sean is constantly telling me that people find attractive what they find attractive. this is usually after i go on a rant about how his pal zak only likes pencil thin girls with giant breasts. i especially hate that zak dismissed me when he first met me because i wasn't (1) a hot girl or (2) a boy. boys, while not hot, are clearly more fun to talk to than ugly girls. sean doesn't realize that zak blew me off because sean is a boy, and thus worthy of zak's attention. he obviously didn't see things from my perspective. eh. fuck zak. but not in the nice sense of the word because he would just like that. at least he would like that if it weren't me.

anyway, i guess sean is sort of right about people being attracted to what they find attractive. i mean, my first crush was on keith from voltron. i've had a thing for people with dark brown hair and brown eyes ever since. sorry to all of you blondies out there. not that i wouldn't like you if you were towheaded. it just might take me a bit longer to, you know, get all warm for your form.

my hair is somewhere between brown and red red right now. best of both worlds.

* jon admitted in the car today that this was a good song. i think it is one of the best songs in reccent musical history, but what do i know. anyway, jon is such a metal head that i didn't think he'd like bob dylan. who knew?

** i am so johnny rotten.

*** my family rules the school. i am going to chalk my cruelty up to my undiagnosed epilepsy. what can't i blame on that? it is probably the most awesome excuse i have ever had in my life.

**** adam, if you are reading this, i had a tremendous crush on you. i'm sure you knew that, tho. you do have pretty brown eyes. in fact, i just google-stalked you and found a picture you from your brother's website. i almost posted it here, except you are wearing a dorky headband. you know the picture; it is the one from the from the MS bike ride. anyway, don't tell clare, all right? hey, i just google-stalked clare! i found clare! should i email her? i'm scared.

Labels: epilepsy, family, jon, sean, texas

i doubt my ability to change, mostly because i doubt my ability to actually try to change. case in point: i came back to madison earlier than i had to so that i could clean my apartment. if you have ever been in my apartment you know that, in addition to having a lot of playmobil, some sad looking plants, more crafting materials than i could ever use, i also have piles and piles of things like unopened mail, dirty dishes, stationery and markers, books, etc. i wouldn't be suprised if, at some point in my life i end up with things all over the floor but completely barren shelves. anyway, though i intended to clean, i have not accomplished anything in the 24 hours i have been back except for three loads of laundry. about an hour ago, i decided to get down to business. i put on a video to "keep me company" while i clean. yeah, right. i chose one i had seen many times so that i wouldn't have to pay attention and could "just listen." i am now watching spiderman and not cleaning, tidying, straightening or any of the like.

at least i made an appointment to go to the gynecologist (which one can easily do if they just pause the dvd for 1 minute). i am almost out of pills and my RN won't renew my prescription unless i come in. i don't want to reproduce because then i would have to clean up after someone else, too. can you imagine the diaper pail in my home?

update: well, i organized my fabric and moved my comic books to accommodate my growing playmobil collection. i need to find about 3 shelves worth of space for more books. i need to find places for the random paperwork on my living room floor. i need to pick up stray writing implements. i need to come up with a better filing system for bills. i need to recycle a big stack of paper and magazines.

Labels: children, gross, mess, toys

i washed two loads of clothes in my basement washing machine yesterday. a year ago, before the washer broke, to wash cost $0.75 and to dry cost $1.25. when the washing machine broke, they got a new one and the price went up to $1.00, but the price to dry dropped down to $1.00. yesterday when i did laundry, the washing machine had dropped back down to $0.75, but the price to dry did not change. i just now put a load in the wash. $1.00. huh?

Labels: confusing

read in the paper this morning that james brown, now dead, is survived by "at least four children." yeah, right, four. i like the way that they completely acknowledge that there are very, very likely more than four.

Labels: death, funny

i just switched over to new blogger. can you tell?

should i change my template? i'm kinda bored with it, but it took me a long time to tweak it just how i wanted it.

Labels: questions

dudes, the meds seem to be working. no seizures since my dad's birthday on september 9th!

Labels: birthdays, epilepsy, good things

i am actually kind of glad that i am a bad person. i don't really give a flip what YOU think about that.

Labels: fuck off

update: i'm putting this update at the top so that all my "readers" catch it. a commenter doesn't understand why i am angry. first off, in the title of the post, i indicate that i am unnecessarily angry. i think i should really have put unjustifiably. or maybe unreasonably. but, i am also unnecessarily angry because, honestly, my seething dislike of my grandmother doesn't do me a whole lot of good. nothing much comes of it.

as to why i am angry, let me see if i can explain a bit better. my grandmother prevented (or at least inhibited) my grandfather from going to church. no one stopped her from going to church, she just didn't go after the death of my uncle. prior to his death, she just went to a different church than her husband and children. when my uncle died, she stopped going to her church and forbade the rest of the family from going to catholic church. yes, they could have just gone, but it would have adversely impacted the rest of their family life. sure, it was their decision ultimately (except for the two that were still in her custody), but she also had a great deal of control over their lives in many ways.

all through my life, if my grandfather started to say grace at a family meal, usually only at thanksgiving or christmans, she would yell at him, cutting him off mid-blessing. my grandad still wanted to participate in the catholic church. when he died, and my grandmother was his next of kin and made all decisions for him at the hospital, she did not allow him to have last rites. seriously, i think that is foul. i don't believe in god, but, holy crap, that is mean.

my great uncle john was deaf his entirely life. when my grandfather's hearing started to fail, she said she wouldn't pay for a hearing aid because only stupid people need hearing aids. her brother was born hearing impared and also apparently stupid as a result. when my granfather needed medications, she didn't want to get them for him because, in her words, she didn't want to spend the money because he was "already no good." okay, maybe she is just cheap, but that seems heartless to me.

so, for her to be going to church now seems, i don't know, somehow false. it doesn't seem like it is coming from the heart. perhaps her cruelty is finally making her feel guilty enough to repent her sins or something. i, being the horrible grandchild (and person) that i am, don't want her to feel forgiven. i don't want her to find solace in religion. she was intolerant of other peoples' faith. she wouldn't say my nephew's name for a year because it "sounded too jewish."

yeah, i am a bad person for being angry. it just hurts me. screw it. i don't care if i am angry. i just am.

end of update

my mom went to visit my evil grandmother this weekend. when she called, grandmother didn't answer, but she drove over anyway. when she got there, my grandmother was coming in from church. my mother's email actually said CHURCH. why was my mom email yelling? because my grandmother hasn't gone to chuch since before i was alive. i think she stopped when her favorite child died in a car accident (he was 17 and drunk driving).* my grandfather just died in may. is she going to church again?** when granddad would sometimes "slip up" and say grace at thanksgiving and christmas dinner, my grandmother would say a reproachful, "LARRY!" we would all shoot her angry looks and encourage granddad to keep going.

i asked my mom about it just now and confirmed that, though my granddad raised my dad and his siblings catholic, my grandmother was episcopalian. is this why she is going to church again? my granddad died so she is finally free? when graddad was in the hospital, she wouldn't let him have last rights. his kids had to sneak behind his back to arrange it. my mom says she has hated*** the catholic church since charlie died because they didn't send food or something like that. i don't know. i'm not religious, but i really don't see how it is the fault of the catholic church that charlie died.

* yes, this is the famous incident in which my grandmother, at the funeral, told my father that the wrong son died.

** i suppose it is not out of the realm of possibilty that she is trying to deal with her grief. more likely the guilt she must feel for treating him so poorly while he was alive.

*** my mom just told me that i use the word "hate" too much and that it reflects poorly on me. i should have more forgiveness in my heart. maybe i was raised wrong.

Labels: complaining, family, fuck off, religion

old & new

Labels: frights, toys