(no subject)
so.
i've been periodically going back to add tags to all of my entries. may i just note once again for the record that i talk a lot about absolutely nothing? pages and pages and pages of... nothing. but it's fun, so whatever.
my earlier entries are almost painful for me to read. blech! heh. there's a word, blech. actually, it's not a word, it's an expression. there is no definition for "blech". or even "heh".
yes, i really did go to check the dictionary.
ok, no i didn't. it was just fun to say so.
ok, yes i did. but only because i wanted to see if "yuck" was in there. it is. what makes "yuck" more of a word than "blech"? these are the important questions.
anyway. i've been trying to tag all of my entries, and i think i've got a good portion of them done now. but it tripped me out. because i really thought that all i talked about was sex and drinking. but no, my top 10 tags are:
music - 62 entries
work - 48 entries
J - 43 entries
crazy - 37 entries
family - 35 entries
men - 32 entries
meme - 29 entries (tie)
friends - 29 entries (tie)
drinking - 28 entries
movies - 27 entries
self awareness - 26 entries
seriously? so weird. music, apparently, really is my life. music and work. where's the sex?! i only have 16 entries for that tag, wtf. i am sure it will increase as i finish tagging. it has to, otherwise my rep is just shot. Mom only has 18 entries and that's a trip. but then, she's such an integral part of my life, pretty much every entry could be tagged "Mom". Michael & TV tie at 24 entries. wow. and i only have 12 rants?! must.do.better.
yesterday, lovecraftienne did a poll asking people to rate me on a scale from 1-10 based on a picture post i did. i love her for doing it; it made me all warm and fuzzy and whatnot inside. but. i am such a chicken. i don't want to know the results, i really don't. is my self esteem really that low?
yes. i can't take rejection and i never have been able to. that's why ages 8 through 17 were such difficult times for me; rejections came from left and right. there were so many things people found lacking in me: the way i dressed, the way i looked, the way i talked, the way i behaved. family members, school mates, hell, strangers. i had to adopt the philosophy of not wanting to know. i had to stop caring, otherwise i'dve just buried myself in the landfill somewhere and not come out until life was all over.
of course, i still want to do this on a daily basis, so. there you go. but at what point will i stop holding myself accountable to the past? so what if Grandma thought i was lazy, or Mr. Konrady thought i was a slacker, or kids laughed at my big butt while i was on stage? does it matter that Diane thought i was some kind of delinquent in need of serious discipline? wasn't that just her own belief? what is it about negative opinions that make them so easy to accept as truths?
as a defense for thinking poorly of myself, i've always thought that if everyone is saying it, then it must be true. but yesterday morning, on the drive to work, Mom challenged me yet again to figure out a way to not internalize someone's poor opinion of me. and affirmations do help, and it helps that all in all i am pretty comfortable with the woman i am. but. it's still remarkable that anyone could look at me and let fly some off-hand comment that will just pulverize me.
it was very hard to post those pictures. i mean, i took them and immediately started tearing them apart, listing my faults, worrying that putting them out there would be invitation to the criticsm i fear so much. i still want to yank the post down. but i won't. because it was fun to do, and in the scheme of things, it's just not that damned big a deal.
but i gotta figure out a way to stop tripping over possible rejection. i am so close to finally finishing a novel, but i know what is stopping me is fear fear constant friggin fear. because finishing means that i have to present it to the world. i have to put it out there, not keep it safe in here. and people are rough, you know?
like, 'cause i went to Justin Timberlake's MySpace, and he (or whoever is running his space) had done a blog releasing the cover from his forthcoming album. and then there were all these comments from people just knocking the hell out of it. and then knocking the hell out of each other for knocking it. and i don't want no part in that stuff, man. i said no part.
ok. enough of that.
our computer should be ready by Friday. i'll believe it when it happens.
we're going to get our licenses renewed on Friday as well. i shall also believe that when it happens.
i bought pretty plants for the house! little ones that will grow into big ones. how sad, we've been there for almost a year and haven't done anything to make it home. it's really up to Mom, but i do think we're planning to stay, at least for the next year or so.
we managed to stop the eviction process by filing for a trial, and Fuck Face decided that, well gee, instead of having to admit that he is, in fact, a fuck face before judge and God, he'd drop the case.
but only if we paid for the legal fees he'd already incurred by starting the eviction process in the first place.
we paid. $500 for him, plus the almost $600 we had to shell out last month for our own filing fees. such bullshit. but what can you do? i am really over being angry at the world in general for shit that happens. there's no fun in that. i think i'd feel more victimized if i was the only person going through unnecessary crap like this. but i'm not.
sad, but there is comfort in knowing that shit storms are non discriminatory and the joy comes from mucking our way through them without losing our sanity or our souls. some people succeed, some falter, and some simply can't take it anymore. Mom & i will take it. 'cause that's just how we do.
i am trying trying trying to slog my way through The Survivor, which is a chronicle of Clinton's presidency. it's dry, it's condescending, even slightly mocking, and it's very annoying. i get it, ok? you think he made a lot of mistakes, he could have done better, blah blah blah. do i have to read the same damned sentence every other page? i've had the book for two weeks and i'm only on page 80. i think i'm giving up.
i've been periodically going back to add tags to all of my entries. may i just note once again for the record that i talk a lot about absolutely nothing? pages and pages and pages of... nothing. but it's fun, so whatever.
my earlier entries are almost painful for me to read. blech! heh. there's a word, blech. actually, it's not a word, it's an expression. there is no definition for "blech". or even "heh".
yes, i really did go to check the dictionary.
ok, no i didn't. it was just fun to say so.
ok, yes i did. but only because i wanted to see if "yuck" was in there. it is. what makes "yuck" more of a word than "blech"? these are the important questions.
anyway. i've been trying to tag all of my entries, and i think i've got a good portion of them done now. but it tripped me out. because i really thought that all i talked about was sex and drinking. but no, my top 10 tags are:
music - 62 entries
work - 48 entries
J - 43 entries
crazy - 37 entries
family - 35 entries
men - 32 entries
meme - 29 entries (tie)
friends - 29 entries (tie)
drinking - 28 entries
movies - 27 entries
self awareness - 26 entries
seriously? so weird. music, apparently, really is my life. music and work. where's the sex?! i only have 16 entries for that tag, wtf. i am sure it will increase as i finish tagging. it has to, otherwise my rep is just shot. Mom only has 18 entries and that's a trip. but then, she's such an integral part of my life, pretty much every entry could be tagged "Mom". Michael & TV tie at 24 entries. wow. and i only have 12 rants?! must.do.better.
yesterday, lovecraftienne did a poll asking people to rate me on a scale from 1-10 based on a picture post i did. i love her for doing it; it made me all warm and fuzzy and whatnot inside. but. i am such a chicken. i don't want to know the results, i really don't. is my self esteem really that low?
yes. i can't take rejection and i never have been able to. that's why ages 8 through 17 were such difficult times for me; rejections came from left and right. there were so many things people found lacking in me: the way i dressed, the way i looked, the way i talked, the way i behaved. family members, school mates, hell, strangers. i had to adopt the philosophy of not wanting to know. i had to stop caring, otherwise i'dve just buried myself in the landfill somewhere and not come out until life was all over.
of course, i still want to do this on a daily basis, so. there you go. but at what point will i stop holding myself accountable to the past? so what if Grandma thought i was lazy, or Mr. Konrady thought i was a slacker, or kids laughed at my big butt while i was on stage? does it matter that Diane thought i was some kind of delinquent in need of serious discipline? wasn't that just her own belief? what is it about negative opinions that make them so easy to accept as truths?
as a defense for thinking poorly of myself, i've always thought that if everyone is saying it, then it must be true. but yesterday morning, on the drive to work, Mom challenged me yet again to figure out a way to not internalize someone's poor opinion of me. and affirmations do help, and it helps that all in all i am pretty comfortable with the woman i am. but. it's still remarkable that anyone could look at me and let fly some off-hand comment that will just pulverize me.
it was very hard to post those pictures. i mean, i took them and immediately started tearing them apart, listing my faults, worrying that putting them out there would be invitation to the criticsm i fear so much. i still want to yank the post down. but i won't. because it was fun to do, and in the scheme of things, it's just not that damned big a deal.
but i gotta figure out a way to stop tripping over possible rejection. i am so close to finally finishing a novel, but i know what is stopping me is fear fear constant friggin fear. because finishing means that i have to present it to the world. i have to put it out there, not keep it safe in here. and people are rough, you know?
like, 'cause i went to Justin Timberlake's MySpace, and he (or whoever is running his space) had done a blog releasing the cover from his forthcoming album. and then there were all these comments from people just knocking the hell out of it. and then knocking the hell out of each other for knocking it. and i don't want no part in that stuff, man. i said no part.
ok. enough of that.
our computer should be ready by Friday. i'll believe it when it happens.
we're going to get our licenses renewed on Friday as well. i shall also believe that when it happens.
i bought pretty plants for the house! little ones that will grow into big ones. how sad, we've been there for almost a year and haven't done anything to make it home. it's really up to Mom, but i do think we're planning to stay, at least for the next year or so.
we managed to stop the eviction process by filing for a trial, and Fuck Face decided that, well gee, instead of having to admit that he is, in fact, a fuck face before judge and God, he'd drop the case.
but only if we paid for the legal fees he'd already incurred by starting the eviction process in the first place.
we paid. $500 for him, plus the almost $600 we had to shell out last month for our own filing fees. such bullshit. but what can you do? i am really over being angry at the world in general for shit that happens. there's no fun in that. i think i'd feel more victimized if i was the only person going through unnecessary crap like this. but i'm not.
sad, but there is comfort in knowing that shit storms are non discriminatory and the joy comes from mucking our way through them without losing our sanity or our souls. some people succeed, some falter, and some simply can't take it anymore. Mom & i will take it. 'cause that's just how we do.
i am trying trying trying to slog my way through The Survivor, which is a chronicle of Clinton's presidency. it's dry, it's condescending, even slightly mocking, and it's very annoying. i get it, ok? you think he made a lot of mistakes, he could have done better, blah blah blah. do i have to read the same damned sentence every other page? i've had the book for two weeks and i'm only on page 80. i think i'm giving up.