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. 🤢 🧟‍♂️

Bitter Christmas: Jesus, Mary and Joseph!

Christmas is once again violating a perfectly good year.  Christmas is shoved down our throats as Christianity is the dominant religion in the United States.

Merry Christmas, assholes!  We have more money than you and bigger dicks, but enjoy us flaunting it while being stuck in traffic in your shitbox.  Life is good, for us, but fuck you and fuck the environment, too!  Fa-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la!

It's also a very commercial holiday, so the only way to completely tune it out would be to avoid all radio, television, newspapers, and the internet as well.  As an atheist, I feel like Christmas is a drunk ex-boyfriend.  I used to like him okay, but we parted ways and now he's drunk and trying to feel me up no matter how hard I try to get away from him.  We cannot still be friends.

I feel like when I express my dislike for Christmas and the holiday season, I'm perceived as a Grinch.  I'd like to present some basic reasons why I and others might not want to embrace the season that seems to grab so many by their jingle balls.

Go ahead, boy!  Go get rabies and bite Christmas in its giant, terrible ass!
.  

If you want to see lights, stay home and shove a flashlight up your ass.

Christmas is primarily for kids: With the whole Santa Claus charade (which I enjoyed as a child myself and encourage this kept in tact for children as long as possible), Christmas is a family- and child-oriented holiday.  There are some of us who don't have children.  Many people choose not to have children.  There are some people who desperately wanted children, but cannot or did not get to have them.  For people who are rendered childless, not by choice, Christmas (the ads, the songs, the general sentiment of it all) is a very painful reminder that they are not like everyone else and that they will not share in this Santa tradition, or buy toys, or have that Christmas morning experience.  This can be a difficult time to deal with this personally, especially with people trying to shove this experience down your throat and somehow take it upon themselves make the non-Christmas person see the error of her ways.

Christmas is a religious holiday: While I did grow up Episcopalian, I've never believed in the whole Jesus story, nor do I believe in god.  This is my choice and I think everyone should make her own choice about religion.  However, again, it feels like I'm forced to participate in this season that is based around what I believe to be a story conjured up by ancient peoples.  I mean, enjoy the show, if it's what you believe.  But don't try to get non-believers to celebrate something they think is non-existent.

I got you a bunch of pills so you'd like Christmas.  Oh wait, you died?  

I certainly wish happiness for people.  I think spending time with family is nice as well as practicing the golden rule (I want to go to that museum).  I don't think people should be out spending money they probably do not have on useless material things that carry no real meaning and don't really matter much in the long run.  The idea of going to a mall or another crowded Christmas-themed venue is horrifying to me, and I try to avoid crowds like this at all costs.  For a good will to fellow man holiday, people sure feel stressed and drive like assholes, too.

I'm not a jerk, so I do wish people a happy holiday and all that shit, to be polite.  And if you are totally into Christmas and love it, please enjoy it.  But keep all that noise bottled up and do not force it upon us or try to convert those of us who dislike it, feel indifferent towards it, or just wish to opt out altogether.

Fucking joy to the world, bitches.

Shit straight into space.

The final nhà vệ sinh?

Can astronauts shit straight into space?  I guess I'm no scientist, but it's a really good question my friend posed to me.  There might be some sort of hatch and they can kind of just stick their bums out and go.  My friend and I also discussed how they might masturbate up there as well.  Mainly, I think we were concerned with the logistics of it and also the etiquette.  Is there a set corner for such activity?

May the Schwartz be with you!

Speaking of shit, I am working on this painting, which I am mainly doing only when stoned.  I hate it so much.  I find it ugly. 

There are some interesting shapes in this.  I suppose given the shapes, I'll call it 'Willie Nelson'sYou Were Always On My Mind'

I find myself spending nights trying to improve it, but hating it more.  

Halloween is always a fun time of year.  I ate a ridiculous amount of candy.  

People brought some leftovers into work.  It was visible from my desk.  Friends are paramount in life and I got a new one for Halloween.

Just when I think I have things figured out and a plan, it's like the world and people kind of shift.  And I'm back to square one, often wondering what the fuck just happened.  I'm glad I have my own mind.  I don't know what I'd do with someone else's.  

Also 'shit straight into space' is playing to Fade Into You in my head for some reason.  Please don't let my ramblings ruin yet another good song!  Strange you never knew.