No doubt. The universe does not make sense. Personally, I try for all I'm worth to do the right thing. It's usually not the easy thing, but it's the right thing. I try to treat people well, help people when I can, I'm nice to animals and I recycle. However, the universe does not always seem to take these things into consideration when dealing you your hand to play. You get screwed over by people you've tried to help. Basically, people are jamming me negative ( that's what we used to say in college anyway ). People are blocking my drainage. I feel like I'm running a half-way house. It's my house, I bought it. I'm making the payments. I pay for the upkeep and utilities. I'm responsible. I go to bed early and get up everyday and go to work. I'm thankful for my job. I thank God for my job. Not everybody has one now. I've got 4 people living with me outside of my partner. NONE of them have jobs. They live with me because if they didn't they'd be homeless. I've told two that I want them out by the first of the year. That's the goal. The one that just got out of jail, she's the one I've got to have the talk with now. I'm not looking forward to this discussion. Her old man is still in jail for child support, but that's a whole other story. What I long for is just me and Jody in the house with our fur kids. I don't want to deal with people 24/7. I don't want to deal with a house full of hormones. I want to be able to walk into my kitchen naked. Not that I make a habit of this, I just want to have the option. These people are the ones that I have to deal with on a daily basis. I loaned another friend way too much money. She's behind on the payments. She's put me in a really bad spot. I was just trying to help. Now, I've helped so much, I can hardly help myself. The universe needs to take pity on me. I'd like God to take some pity on me. I'd like to win the lottery. I see these shows that detail how the lottery ruins people's lives. I think it wouldn't ruin mine. I believe I could handle it.
Hey God, how about some winning numbers??? Please???
If I'm not careful, I'm gonna end up in the gutter with this cat.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
OK. So it's been almost a year since I posted. A really really really busy year. Really stressful. Lots of changes. Some good, some not so good. I now have entirely too many people in my house. To compliment this, they have pets. I have WAAAAAYYYYYY to many furry friends in my house. They all can't get along either. This makes navigating through the house, potty breaks and dinner interesting. Tank and Zion have decided they don't like each other. They fight. I don't mean wrestle. I mean they I'mgonnaripyourthroatoutanddrinkyourlifeforce fight. Someone must at all times be contained. Everybody wants attention. Only so many can get it at once. Furthermore, one of the people that live in my house has a psycho pomeranian. She barks constantly and can't get along with anyone. She stays locked in one of the bedrooms unless she's going out to potty. Did I forget to mention, said owner of dog is currently in jail. I've been taking care of this demon spawn for two months. I hate this dog. When I say hate, you may think this a strong word. I think the word is too soft. I would like to launch this dog into space for permanent residence. Now, recently an old friend called and said "I need a place to stay for a while because I lost my job." Said friend came to my home with girlfriend and two dogs in tow. Sandy does not like said dogs. Shocker. Did I mention how much I hate that dog? You'd think ok, this won't be bad. It's a big house. Plenty of room. Plus I have my master suite cave that is bigger than most apartments in NYC. However, what it doesn't say, is that over the years said friend has developed a drinking problem. I'm all about having an adult beverage every now and then. It can be a great way to relax and unwind. What I'm saying here is that A 40 OF CRAP ASS MALT LIQUOR IS NOT ACCEPTABLE EVERY DAY. Not only is it every day it's several times a day. My recycling bin is full of King Cobra bottles. First of all, this stuff sucks. Second, you don't have a job, don't be wasting money you don't have. Third, it's embarassing for my neighbors to see that crappy excuse for a drink in MY recycling bin. I am unsure about how to confront said friend on this matter. I think I'm going to have to be blunt and put it out there. I have a job and money to buy adult beverages and I don't purchase as many in a month as she does in three days. I'm tired of malt liquor bottles, I'm tired of people living in my house for free, I'm tired of not having room in my fridge for my crap and I'm tired of not being able to walk in my back yard without stepping in a yard bomb.
Friday, May 29, 2009
I remember when I was a kid and my mother asked me what I wanted to be when I grow up, I told her I wanted to be a stand up comedian. I think I was about 6 or 7. This was during the golden age of television with all the variety shows and Carol Burnett on all the time. I just thought that would be a great job. My mother promptly squashed my childhood dream by saying, "No, you can't do that. You'll starve to death." How many parents do that? "I want to be a policeman." "No, Jimmy you'll get shot and killed. Pick something else." Seriously, how much does that suck? Well, if my mother were still alive, I think that she might be happy if I was doing stand up. At least, I wouldn't be so fat then. She was always hung up on my weight. I'd tell her it's the stand up comedy diet. She'd be pleased I was finally thin. It's been over 30 years and I still remember that conversation. I still would love to do stand up comedy but I'm way to chicken now. My mother believed that I would literally cease to exist if that were my chosen profession. That I wouldn't be good enough to feed myself. That if I did that, I couldn't even get a job a McDonalds to feed my food habit. Way to squash the dreams of your only child Mom.
The next incident with my mother was when I told her I didn't want to go to college. That was even less popular than the comedian decision. This happened when I was 12. All I remember is there being some sort of atomic explosion in my home and I was told I was going to college, there was no option, no choice, that was that, shut up, do not pass go, do not collect $200.
Now, my options were limited. I could go to college, it just had to be in state. I applied to several and got accepted to several. I pretty much had my pick. SOOOOOOOO, I chose the one that my mother was dead set against. I wanted one that Mom and Dad couldn't just drop in on me. It had to be far enough away for my comfort but close enough I could drive home if I wished. I chose a private university that was STUPID expensive instead of the state school that my mother wanted me to attend. All her friends daughters went to the other school. I should go there. I didn't want to go there. There was no way in hell I was going to be convinced that I would go to school there. So away to central Virginia I went. Off to be a psychology major. Wait, I'm not a psychology major??? Why the hell not? Because I won't be able to eat. Great.
OK. I'm out of school and doing absolutely nothing related to my major. In fact, I'm really happy doing nothing related to my major. Everyday I look at my degree on the wall and smile about it. I appeased my mother by having a business minor, so I could eat. Needless to say I'm doing nothing with any portion of my degree. I'm actually happy about that. At this point in my life, I wouldn't want to be a psychologist nor work in business. I like testing software. I get to break things for money. I get to do puzzles for money. What could really be more fun than that?
However, I'm really finally taking part of my life and really doing with it what I want to. I'm not worrying what people think about my decisions. I really don't care. All I know is I'm trying to do what makes me happy. I want to enjoy life. You only get one go at it. You've got to make it count. Right now, my life is a lot more fun than it's been in a very long time.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
So do not worry about tomorrow; for tomorrow will care for itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own. - Matt. 6:34
Hi, my name is Jeannie and I'm a stressaholic. Hi, Jeannie.
You'd think that with all the things I've dealt with in my time on this planet, I'd get better at dealing with stress. Stress does nothing but bad things to you. I know this. My mother was a nurse. I went to nursing school, for a while anyway. I have seen the results of stress first hand. No matter, I do it anyway and I do it well. My dealing with stress comes and goes. Sometimes, I'm great with it. Sometimes, not so much. Lately, it's been not so much. When I say lately, I mean like the last two weeks.
As much as I like spontaneity, I'm quite the creature of habit. Sometimes when a monkey wrench gets tossed into my plans, I totally freak out. Not always, but sometimes. When I lost my job last year, I totally didn't stress. I knew that God would provide. I had been asking for Him to fix the relationship with me and my supervisor at the time. Well, He fixed it. I no longer worked there. However, He got me a job that I love with people I really enjoy working with. I had several offers. The one I took wasn't the one that paid the most, or had the most prestige, it was the one God wanted me to take. I spoke with my pastor at length about my options. Somehow I knew, the job I took was the one I was ultimately supposed to have. Looking back on things, I know it was the right decision and other things in my life wouldn't have come to where they are now if I hadn't. When I stress, I must remind myself to read Matthew 6. Therein lies the cure to anxiety.
For this reason I say to you, do not be worried about your life, as to what you will eat or what you will drink; nor for your body, as to what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing?
Look at the birds of the air, that they do not sow, nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not worth much more than they?
And who of you by being worried can add a single hour to his life?
And why are you worried about clothing? Observe how the lilies of the field grow; they do not toil nor do they spin, yet I say to you that not even Solomon in all his glory clothed himself like one of these.
But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the furnace, will He not much more clothe you? You of little faith!
Do not worry then, saying, 'What will we eat?' or 'What will we drink?' or 'What will we wear for clothing?'
For the Gentiles eagerly seek all these things; for your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things.
But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.
So do not worry about tomorrow; for tomorrow will care for itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.
Jesus was right. He was totally ahead of His time. Completely, revolutionary in His teachings. Telling us that we can be completely free by becoming a servant to God.
Free. Happy. Isn't that what we all want really? You can overlook many things if you're happy. Having $6.93 in the bank until you get paid again doesn't seem so bad. Not knowing when you'll get paid again doesn't seem so bad. You know that everything is going to be ok because it will be ok. You know that life is unrolling just as it should. Stressing isn't going to put money in the bank, clothes on your back, food on the table or hours on your life. God will provide what we need. He knows better than we do on what we need. Sometimes we just need to be reminded of this. God puts those people in our lives too. Thanks, Jody.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Today I had a mammogram. This experience is much like throwing your boob down in the street and having it run over by a car. In fact, it might be more pleasant that way because you could at least be drunk for the experience. I really never thought that my breasts could be mashed so flat that you could see through them if they were held up to a light. I always think I'm going to need a Spam Key (ok I'm dating myself here) to roll them back up and put them back in their harness to keep them safe.
Today didn't start well because I really didn't sleep. I had the events of the next morning on my mind. Yes, I know worry is a sin. I don't think that this was worry, more like dread. You know that kind of dread. The this is something that I have to do but I REALLY wish there was another way to do this. That added with the fact that the "ladies" are pierced didn't add to my piece of mind. I got up, got dressed, got my stuff and left. At least I thought I got my stuff. I left my wallet and my phone at home. YAY!! I realize this when they ask me for my insurance card. GREAT!! So I get on the phone with the HMO to get the number for the Women's Imaging Center. This place is designed to look very state of the art. Designed to place women at ease. However, when you're going in to have your boobs squished, you can only be so relaxed. I complete my paperwork and wait to hear my name called. There are several women there. Lots of them. Some brought their husbands. You could tell by the look on the guy's face he REALLY didn't want to be there. He knew well enough though, that if he didn't go, he wouldn't get to touch what was going to be squished for a long time. The more I watched women move through there, the more it seemed like they were moving cattle through to be milked. They would call two, three of four back. Then another two or three. Then one or two. Moving them through steadily.
My name was called and there was a rather youthful women there that introduced herself and asked how I was. What do you say to this? Tell the truth or exchange formal pleasantries? I chose the latter. It's not her fault she's stuck slapping boobs on glass plates and squishing them all day. She's getting a paycheck. In this day and age, we all should be so lucky. She tells me to take off my shirt and bra and slip on one of the gowns with the opening in the front. She looks at me, looks at the ladies, looks at their jewelry and says "Those don't come out do they?" To save me the hastle of removing them and painfully putting them back in, I said "No, sorry." OK. Now I go up and they place me in this midieval torture device made by General Electric. First the right, then the left. The mashing mechanism is controlled by a footpedal. They get you in there, mash you flatter than roadkill, then tell you not to move. Move?? Seriously??? I can barely breathe much less move. Finally, after multiple squishings from multiple angles, I could leave. I didn't think that the ladies would ever go back into the shape they were prior to being run through a device obviously invented by a man to torture women. If they had to put their "buddies" in those things, they'd find a new way to test for cancer.
I survived. None too much the worse for wear. Just tired and pissed off at this point. Off to work I go. I don't want to see anyone, answer any questions, or talk to anyone. I want to sit with my machine and look at software. That's it. I go back out to my car at lunch. I always leave my windows cracked because of the heat. I find that someone has slipped a card into my seat. I unlock the car and get the card and open it. It's from Jody and it makes me smile. That was my first smile of the day and it didn't come until lunchtime. Yes, I know what I've said about greeting card companies in the past. Yes, I know I said that they feed on the neurosis of society. I also know that I now have two cards tacked up on my corkboard that make me feel special.
Monday, May 18, 2009
Can I tell you how much it sucks to get old? When you're younger, you can abuse the snot out of your body and it just bounces back. Drink too much. Get up the next day and be fine. Stay out all night, show up in the same clothes you wore the day before and you're fine. Run, jump, fall, whatever and everything is ok the next day. However, I've found that all that abuse that you subjected yourself to in your younger days takes it's toll. It's never right away, it waits until you turn 35. Then it sneaks in and slowly makes getting up a little harder, drinking a little more painful, and God know's I can't seem to function on less than 7 hours sleep.
Today is one of those days. A day, I didn't get my seven hours of sleep. A day, that I was so sore it hurt to roll over in bed much less get out of it. A day, that putting on my jeans was a true experience. I'm thankful for the fact that there are no camcorders in my home.
My youngest dog, Zion, comes bouncing into the room full of boundless energy. Jumping on cats, other dogs and me. The me part is what I was really concerned with. All the others have to fend for themselves at this point.
When I was a child, I could never understand my Mother's lack of wanting to play and run. I sure as hell can now. I'm not even as old as she was then. I can't believe I've gotten so old. I've become dull. I've become the people that just want to stay at home and curl up with a book. I didn't understand it then, but now I totally get it.
Furthermore, I hear things come out of my mouth that I heard my mother say. It shocks me. I think all women, provided that they live long enough, are destined to become their mother. Scary thought. Truly scary.
"Love" is that condition in which the happiness of another person is essential to your own... Jealousy is a disease, love is a healthy condition.
OK. So the Super Fantastic Blog has been on haiatus over a year now. I can completely understand how people become total slackers. You think "Hey, I'll just to that tomorrow." Next thing you know it's been a year and you still haven't done it. You've thought about it. Thought, "Hey I really need to do that." The thoughts never prompt you to actually break out the laptop and do it. Some may think I had nothing to say or I lacked inspriation. It's not that I lacked inspiration or material. Far from it. I think I had WAY TOO MUCH inspiration and material. The act of putting all that inspiration down for others to experience would surely have blown my processor and the mind of anyone reading it. Hence, I have developed a NO DRAMA ZONE mentality. I can create enough drama on my own without people bringing me theirs. No Drama. No Drama. No Drama. That's my mantra.
For those of you that remember my posts of old, I was lonely, cynical, generally bitter and pissed off. I had put all my faith and trust in God because I had no choice. I had truly screwed up my life on my own so I figured that He couldn't do any worse than I had. Put your faith and trust in something that's not directly tangable. Easy to say but hard to do. I did it. It wasn't without struggle or doubt, mind you. It was a journey into a place I had never been before. Relying completely on God. Scary concept to think about. However once it's done, it's scarier living life anyway other than that.
My propensity to refuse to support the greeting card industry in the past has been well documented. I always thought that they preyed on the neurosis of society. However, I now find myself looking at a greeting card tacked to my corkboard. So what has restored my faith in the greeting card industry, you may ask? Well, God has seen fit to bless me with an awesome person with which to share my life experiences. Pretty cool. I had to go through all the screwed up-ness in order to get to the point that I was ready for a relationship. I thought I was ready but God knew better. So I really had given up on the whole idea. Then when I give up, God throws Jody at me. Crazy stuff.
God has his own plans.
I have Jody.
Jody has me.
i has luv.