Sandwiches for a bewitching non-witch.

Today my work had sandwiches for lunch.  We each got to pick two halves.  I picked tuna (my favorite) and Italian.  Instead of two halves, they gave me a whole tuna and half the Italian.  I don't mind telling you this was like winning some sort of lottery.  I had tuna for lunch and the Italian for dinner.  I love sandwiches!  And, I actually love my job! 

Of course, someone did ask if I was a witch today.  I have no issue with witches.  It happened on a dating app, so I was not surprised.  This set off a lot of thoughts in my head, mostly thoughts about how I seem to attract or encounter such odd people and situations in the dating world. 

I went to a restaurant where the woman's first language was not English.  I want to make it clear: I am not making fun of non-native English speakers.  Most of them do a hell of a lot better than I would at learning another language.  And I also think there's racism surrounding the chastising or mocking of non-English speakers in America. 

She was sweet and when I was looking at the drink menu, she said, "Take your time, girl."  We chuckled because she was sassy in how she said it.  I was with three men, two in their 40s, and one in his 20s or 30s who looks really young.  When she addressed him, she called him "boy."  We were trying not to laugh in her face.  She clearly gets boy and girl are the same type of word.  And if people say "girl" like "you go, girl," etc., then why not say boy?  One of my friends said "Don't try saying that in Selma."  It just made me think how beautiful language is and how innocent and wonderful human nature is here.  You have this woman who is trying to relate to people and show her personality in a language that is not her own.  Then, there's the ugly side.  In this "boy" banter, which is innocuous, she is drudging up a horrible, terrible human trait of racism.  I really wish more people were like her when it comes to the words they choose: happy and sweet, hoping to make someone smile.  And that she did to all of us. 

The witch comment made me think as I was going into the gym.  In love and romance, is it that two people meet and there's just that spark, that thing that cannot be named, which causes them to just gravitate towards each other?  Or is it that two people know what they want and with timing being right, they just happen upon each other?  Is love magical or just accidental?

I made huevos rancheros and it was delicious. 

This looks like Audrey II's va-jay-jay.

I'm turning boring.

Well, a year and a half ago, I turned 40.  Now I'm turning boring.  I texted a friend that I had finally dusted my bedroom the other day.  It was the most boring text ever sent in the history of mankind.

I also told a bunch of people today how a surly guy walked right in front of me at the ice cream case at the grocery today.  He opened the freezer door, and I grabbed my ice cream in his face.  I actually texted four people this today.  This is news?  This is stuff that I feel like I have to share with people?

I suppose this post isn't terribly exciting either.  I'm mainly writing it because the other day at work, I was eating popcorn out of a giant tupperware.  I don't know what's worse: the fact that I'm eating a giant tupperware of popcorn at work or that I was using my pants as napkins. 

I need a Ball Break.

I watched a cheesy 80s horror movie yesterday called The Mutilator.  They had a song about going on vacation that might have been Fall Break, but I heard it as Ball Break.  I had never heard of a vacation being called a Ball Break before. 

It's a ball break, nothing but a ball break...

Either way, I realized in 2017 I didn't go anywhere.  My suitcase has dust on it.  I know at the end of 2016, I bought a travel laundry bag and a travel water bottle.  These also had dust on them.  Why didn't I go anywhere in 2017?  There are so many places to go and so many places I want to go that I've never been.  I've been trying to go to a new place every year, but I dropped the ball last year.  I guess 2017 was a Ball Break. 

The dust is getting thicker.  It's time to go somewhere good or bad or just somewhere different.

At least I have my mind to go places.  That sounds psychotic and pathetic.  Last night I had a dream I was on this field with a bunch of other people.  There were reindeer walking around. 

I saw the Obamas.  I went up to their daughters and one ran into my arms and I picked her up.  I told them that I always thought of them when I saw reindeer because they loved watching them so much.

In reality, I couldn't care less about reindeer or the Obamas. 

The mouse in the house.

There was a mouse in my house.  It was small, gray, and fast.  It was adorable.   Yet, I couldn't live with it.  He was too fast and one of my coworkers warned me that they carry disease.

Because of a huge snow storm, we ended up working from home.  I set up on my couch (not that my VPN was working) and the mouse actually came up onto the couch with me.

You can actually see the mouse on the left under the mixer bowl.

A lot of my friends who know me assumed the mouse wanted to be my friend and to cuddle up.  I don't know why I had this irrational fear about the mouse.  I ended up catching him with a jar of peanut butter in a box.  As soon as he crawled in to eat the peanut butter, I closed the box, ran down the stairs, and threw the box into the yard.  The mouse, named Papa Gino because he found a chunk of pizza in the oven, scurried away.  Some friends have said he's likely dead and I am responsible for his killing.  Some say he might have lived.  One person said he'd find his way back in, but I think there's too much snow for that.

As terrified as I was of him, I have to admit I kind of miss him.

My niece made this on Christmas and it's the best dessert I've ever had: brownies with almond extract with two kinds of ice cream. 

Probably the best sauce I ever made and the worst dining experience I've ever had.

And Happy New Year!  The last couple of weeks of 2017 were kind of trying, however, I love the clean slate, fresh feeling of New Years.  My goal for 2018 is to find my strength again, enjoy being in the present, and to enjoy life.  I am also hoping to steer clear of douchebags.

Looking forward to 2018 and Fleetwood Mac will be touring.

Potential Bakery Casualties

Every day, on my route to work, I pass several bakeries.  These places sell coffee and special breakfasts and breads.  They are Brazilian bakeries and I keep meaning to stop in and bring in something for my coworkers, but I never seem to allow enough time.

I have a major issue with this specific road as it's super busy and there's always someone trying to make an inconvenient left, cutting people off like we should stop for them.  I never stop for them.  This is Massachusetts; no one needs to stop for anyone here.



I have a major issue with the bakery people.  They park on the opposite side of the street.  They get out of their cars and run across the street to the bakery.  They run in front of your car.  I had a guy this morning who stopped just short of walking into the side of my speeding car.  I was not planning on stopping for him running into the street like a child.



I get it.  I like bakeries and coffee.  There are some tasty treats in there.  I also get starting your day groggy and not being aware of anything else in the world.  I get being self-centered, too.  I just cannot handle these hungry bakery people always running in front of my speeding car, nor can I stop for them.

Don't kill yourself.

Since this is a hard time of year for some people, myself included, I thought I'd do a sort of public service post.  Many people, including yours truly, feel incredibly lonely this time of year.  It's hard to explain why some people embrace and enjoy holidays and can feel joy and gratitude.  Some of us feel a void, something missing, and this holiday season seems to exacerbate that. 

If you're reading this and feeling like you want to kill yourself, read my poem first just because I want people to read my shit.  But, seriously, this is the information for the suicide prevention hotline: https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/

I did attempt suicide at one low point in my life when I was a troubled teenager.  I am not ashamed of this.  I've gotten to a point now where I enjoy my life and I'm relatively content.  I could not fathom ending my own life as I want to see what happens next and I know that things can and will get better and improve when facing adversity.  

My point is, no matter how much you feel isolated, you're never alone on an earth with billions of people in it.  Some of us care about all people just because we're kind and loving.  Find someone like that to talk to.  Celebrate friends and family and try to look at what you have rather than the voids, and I know the voids can sometimes feel crippling.  

I wrote this poem about suicide after Robin Williams died.  We all have darkness and strife in us; some of us just learn coping skills and learn how to manage it.  

Thanks for reading my poem and also remember not to kill yourself.  We all belong in the world, this big, beautiful, scary, crappy world we've fucked up and scrambled to make right again.  

                      how and why 

 how: it ends. something brought

 you to your knees. you've lived with 

 pain, as we all have. you can't do 

 this anymore - this living. you go then. 

why: can't you see a beat up, old, gray 

 Mercedes shining in the rainy moonlight 

 with an enormous silver canoe roped 

 to the roof - and take simple 

 pleasure in the privilege of 

 a sight - let your imagination 

 go - and recall the mood of a 

really good Stephen King book?

 how: you feel no connection to the 

 cells in your body that toil and 

 exist for you to live. life has 

 been with you - some say since you 

 were birthed - others say very 

 shortly after your parents fucked. 

 you're done fucking people. 

that should never get old or unwelcomed.

why: just thinking makes me feel 

 better sometimes. like how my 

ex-husband told me during a 

 semi-comfortable lunch: according to 

 Neil DeGrasse Tyson, humanity's 

 existence is a mere second before 

 midnight on New Year's Eve in the 

 year that is the universe and 

 all we know or can possibly 

 speculate about. 

how: you're not too scared to cease 

 your breath. it seems you're 

 more afraid of lonely breaths to 

 come. think of your lungs. after you 

 expire, they will expel their reserves

 which have been there for you 

 since after they emptied of your 

 mother's amniotic fluid. this is 

your death rattle. you'll not see a 

 rattlesnake again.; you'll not hear it. 

 you won't hike around Devil's Tower 

 in Wyoming, longing to hear one, 

 but secretly, safely, relieved that you didn't. 

why: it's not all about you. your life

 is not all about you. just you. people 

 love and people care. after, you know 

 people will hurt. hurt so bad and 

 miss you. they'll feel horrible that 

 they couldn't help - then, after 

 accepting they couldn't anyway, 

 a new grief of how shitty you 

 must've felt before you decided 

 not to live anymore. 

how/why: the Beatles. you'll never hear the 

 Beatles again. you won't rediscover 

 an old favorite from Let It Be. you won't 

 purchase a scarf and leather boots. 

 you won't feel a cold winter wind and 

 adjust the scarf, placing it over 

 your nose and mouth, the familiar 

 scent of your closet, of clean 

 storage, mixed with the blue, 

 blustery wind. you wont feel the 

 frigid ground, somehow harder 

 in winter - although that's not 

 physically possible - through boots 

 that feel snug and only a little 

 warm in the cold. you won't feel 

 that grateful feeling for the boots, 

 even if they are only semi-warm. 

you left us all. we loved you.

 you couldn't love yourself enough. 

 remember, it's you. 

 you couldn't love yourself enough. 

 this world and humans who 

 populate it can be horrifically 

 vile and cruel - heartbreak runs rampant 

 on our planet. 

 love. hope. thoughts of beauty. books. 

 our history. our future.

you removed yourself 

 from this equation 

 without solving the problem. 

 you didn't show your work. 

Eating the remainder of my lunch in the gym parking lot.

It was ham and cheese with brown mustard on whole wheat and it was delicious. I do not ever want to go into the gym, so this post is pure procrastination and I have nothing really to say. 🥪

Here’s some things I said today at work:

“Why can’t I be hot like a trophy wife but not be married?”

“I’ve done worse things in a church, trust me.”

“I wish there was some wine out here, or anything. I’d drink anything right now.”

“I don’t really like cock roaches, actually.” (To someone who erroneously thought I liked cock roaches).

And I’ve told at least three people today either that I’m not an asshole or I’m not crazy.

Now, to go into the gym and try to pass for human. Here’s a poem I wrote outside the gym once when I was in a foul mood:



To be human is to be ugly


A vile sack of flesh
awaiting another nasty being
to come along
and make it feel human again
The work it takes each day
to not congeal into a disgusting mass
and to pass as acceptable
to the masses, to what we've named
“society”
The most vulgar output of the meat
we are composed of is
feelings





And here is the best live recording of any song ever. If you disagree, I will throw acid in your face. 🤢 🧟‍♂️