fdsh;sdois reality

I am going to sound like a hater in a half shell.

I’m so sorry.

I just….. need to let it out.

It’s really going to sound bad.

I’m not perfect.

I honestly…… from the bottom of my heart….. do not…… understand…… the Jordan thing. I broke your heart. I’m sosososososorry. “He had some fresh J’s on”……. gleam in their eye. No. He had on some shoes. They’re shoes. To me, they are shoes. The go on your foul-smelling feet to protect them from the elements. That’s what shoes do. Now, don’t get me wrong. I like to look nice and wear things that I consider to be fashionable. But to me, Jordans don’t look any different from any other tennis shoe. Honestly. I’m being serious. They probably all came out of the same factory. I’m just saying. They look like tennis shoes. There is nothing remotely spectacular about them. I know people are very, very much into them. I understand that. It’s just….. I don’t understand what’s so special about them. At all. They don’t do anything amazing. The thought that people have been killed over these shoes makes me sick.

Coach bags, Louis bags……. they are purses. Purses that cost about as much as my first vehicle. And that is great if that’s what you like. If that’s what you are into, have at it.

But, to me, they all just seem like status symbols. Material things that are supposed to give people some sort of an impression of you….. but you aren’t your Jordans. You aren’t your Louis bag. You aren’t your car. That’s not you. That isn’t who you are and it really doesn’t give an accurate description of what sort of person you are, like some would like to believe. I’m sorry, I just can’t make an accurate assessment of your character based on your purse. Because, while you may be a well-educated, successful business woman…… wearing that Louis bag….. i’ve seen chicks from the projects wearing the same exact thing. Chicks that are not educated, collect wellfare and do hair on the side so they can go clubbing. Octomom was sporting brands and she is, in fact, a shitty mother….. from what i’ve gathered. Your pantry full of organic food does not give me the impression that you are an amazing mom. Your expensive stroller doesn’t make me feel like you care about your kids anymore than the young mom next door cares about hers. Your perfectly plucked brows and $30 lip gloss doesn’t lead me to believe you’ve got your life anymore together than I do.

And these things are fine. I’m not knocking. But sometimes, it seems…… that people believe these things make them who they are. And they do nothing to work on who they actually are…..underneath it all. Like, underneath all of the stuff…… there is a person…. one that I don’t really know….. one that you don’t really know. Who are you, actually? Even people who really work hard at staying up-to-date on current events….. and they’ll like annihilate you in a debate….. and this becomes their identity. They’re always on point. But really, who are you?

The reason it takes so long to get to know people is because people don’t even know who they are. It’s like there are multiple levels of reality and…… at the very bottom….. underneath all of the extras…. there’s the real world. The truth. Unfiltered. It may be messy, but it’s honest. I’m trying to get there. That’s where i’m heading. That’s where i’m going. I’m trying so hard to make my way through this jungle of shit that doesn’t fucking matter….. so I can see something real.

I wish there were a place where everything is real. People don’t hide behind their things and their achievements and their ready-made facts. They don’t hide in their homes with the blinds pulled down and the curtains closed. I want someone to shock me. Say something I wasn’t expecting. Even if it’s inappropriate and even raunchy, make a mess out of your words. Don’t close the bedroom door when I come over, I really don’t care about the shit you’ve thrown allover the place, I do it too. Chug the soda straight out of the two liter, you’re going to do it when I leave, anyway. Do it now. Don’t cook your best meal, I can handle leftovers. Say what you mean and mean what you say. Say it like you thought it. I LEFT A BANANA PEEL ON MY NIGHTSTAND FOR FIVE FUCKING DAYS. I didn’t notice it because it turned so brown that it blended in with the actual nightstand. WHAT. EVER. WHO. CARES. You have Jordans. Noted. When’s the last time you sulked like a spoiled 5 year old? Threw a tantrum because you couldn’t get your way? Pictured something inappropriate? Sometimes, I eat shredded cheddar cheese right out of the bag. It’s gross. But I love it. I taste my food and put the spoon back in the pot.

I’m normal. There’s nothing odd about me. I’m perfectly sane. I am a wife and mother of four. I clean, cook, teach the kids new songs, we snuggle up and watch movies together. My husband plays with my hair at night to help me fall asleep. We do normal things like taking the carseats out of my car to put in his when he’s taking them somewhere. He calls me from the store to see if I might want some snacks. We talk on the phone on his breaks and sometimes text each other stupid pictures. I bang on the wall when he turns the washer on when i’m in the shower because we live in an old house and the water pressure becomes non-existent and I get PISSED and he yells back “OKAY, OKAY, GOD!”….. I forgot to take the fish out to thaw yesterday so we had to get carryout….. again….. normal. Typical shit. We don’t have a fabulous life. We aren’t part of an elite social click, we don’t dine at the fanciest places in town. I absolutely will cook my kids box mac and cheese and I think they’ll survive. I’m pretty sure they will. I did.

And you’re normal and he’s normal and she’s normal and they’re normal….. so let’s just skip past the facade and get to who we really, actually are….. in reality…. let’s not talk about things that no one actually cares about for the sake of making conversation. When you’re talking, I promise I will try my very best to really listen to what your saying, rather than mentally preparing what I might say next. And i’m not going to judge you if we make it to our destination and you realize that you didn’t buckle your child in properly. Safety hazard, I know. But sometimes, shit happens. You don’t have to hide your booze. You don’t have to smile when you really feel like venting about something extremely stupid, instead…… there are seriously times when I have left the house with my shirt inside out and backwards and two flip flops that I thought matched….. but actually….. one was black and one was brown. I survived that. I love Journey. LOVE Journey. But I went to their concert and didn’t know all of the words to one of their more popular songs and I am a MUSIC FANATIC. I didn’t pretend to know them. Sometimes people talk about current events and I haven’t the slightest fucking idea what they are referring to and I don’t pretend to. Whatevs. I just want to be who I am and I want to see people for who they are. I’m not impressed by your watch. I can’t tell if it’s expensive or if you got it at Target. I just don’t know. And while you may have a super nice car, I know there has been a time or two when you sucked fumes to get home from work. It. Is. Whatever.

I’m losing my shit, here lol.

Sorry, I just wanted to rant. I sat down to blog and this is what came out. I am about to go do normal things, like laundry and dishes or whatever. Nothing amazing lol. We’re also not having anything spectacular for dinner. It’s probably going to be super unhealthy because I haven’t felt like cooking, lately. I haven’t brushed my hair today and i’m still in my pajamas. I took the kids to school in my pajamas. There is a strong possibility that I will pick them up in my pajamas. And i’m not putting shoes on the little ones, either. Or brushing their hair. We’re just gonna go. And I think we’re gonna make it. Like, I really think we will be okay. Okay. I’m done. Don’t judge me. Don’t you dare judge me.

I’m back to say that I really annoyed myself with this post and I feel really dramatic right now. And it’s kind of embarrassing. This is one of those moments where I regret ever creating a blog. 


I am so, so angry lol so, please, forgive me. I just read an article about a gay couple in their 70’s who had to go through the adoption process in order to have legal rights to one another. Yes, adoption. As in, the 76 year old adopted the 74 year old as his son. They have been together since their 20’s.

It’s 2015.

This is the thing that peeves me about Christians. It really, really peeves me. And I am, by no means, a model Christian. At ALL. Not even close. I try and I fail but I keep trying because it’s the best I can do. I am so painfully aware of my own flaws and the areas in which I fall short that it becomes more and more difficult to judge others. I mean, almost impossible to cast stones at people. Every time I see someone in their brokenness, I am reminded of my own. I cannot even look at another in disgust without reflecting inward. It’s just amazing how critical we can become of other people and the choices they make. Unless, of course, it is a choice which serves us. You know….. affairs are real in the church. Divorce is real in the church. Abuse is real in the church. Addiction, greed, jealousy, anger, it’s all real in the church. And yet, Christians have ganged up like lunch room bullies on homosexuals and it gets under my skin something serious. It actually angers me. It is rare that I meet a homosexual that doesn’t have some sort of tale of sorrow. But many Christians don’t want to hear that, they avoid them as if “what they have” is “contagious” or something. Oh it gets my blood boiling.

It’s 2015. Whether you agree with their lifestyle or not is IRRELEVANT. There are REAL legal issues, here. This couple has been together for 50 years. Whether you like it or not, they are life partners. I think they’ve demonstrated that much. 50 years of mutually acquired possessions and investments. Estate planning. Health issues that they are battling where HIPAA prevents them from being able to obtain information on their condition or make decisions on their behalf. Many of whom have been ostracized from their families and literally all they’ve got is each other. It just seems that people feel that by denying them their rights will somehow “punish” them or even “control the gay issue in America”. And that, by “giving in”, they will be contributing to the “gay issue in America”. I’m sorry. Was it you that was nailed to a cross? I must have missed that part in the Bible that says you are somehow in control. No, God is in control. Not you. And you can’t cherry pick the things which serve you. You can’t allow divorce while denying homosexuals their rights. It’s just amazing, to me. If you want to get downright technical about it…… we should all be selling all of our worldly shit and coming together to solve the hunger crisis on our planet. But no. We hoard and hoard and hoard, send our kids to expensive private schools, buy luxury vehicles and houses bigger than presidents of third world countries have…… we consume and eat ourselves into obesity while people are dying allover the damn world…… and we go to Christian concerts and retreats and hold prayer meetings in our megachurches to discuss the “gay issue in America”.

Is there something wrong with my heart? Is my heart not right? Am I the asshole, here? Seriously, is there something wrong with me? Because everything in my mind, body and SOUL tells me that this is NOT RIGHT. And I will stand in front of the Southern Baptist Convention and tell them, by myself, this is NOT RIGHT. I don’t care who approaches me about this situation, I don’t care how they feel about my opinions or me as a person, I don’t care if they question my salvation, I don’t care what anyone has to say about it, I will not shy away from it. This 76 year old man should NOT have had to ADOPT his 74 YEAR OLD PARTNER in order to clear legal issues.

My God. I hope we all are on the same page but it just doesn’t seem that we are. I hope that most of us just want to do the best we can. Just try. It’s all we can do. And we’ll never get it right. In our earthly bodies, we’ll never be righteous. NONE of us. Do you understand that? Do you even know what that means? It means preachers selling out stadiums are in the SAME BOAT AS I AM. That’s what it means. He doesn’t have anymore access to God than me, my neighbor or the homosexual down the street. That’s what that means. Gay does not equal Holy Spirit repellent. You have no idea how God is working in this person’s life and by you trying to claim authority over their fate, you are, essentially, undermining the authority of our Almighty God. That’s what it looks like to me. It looks like, “Don’t worry about it, God. We’ve got this under control!”….. No, you don’t. You didn’t have it under control in the garden of eden where you WALKED with God. You didn’t have it under control when Noah was warning you that God was going to flood the earth. You didn’t have it under control when your cities were destroyed. You didn’t have it under control when God said that he would send a savior, a savior that YOU nailed to the cross. You didn’t have it under control when He arose from the dead and I am here to bring some OLD NEWS to you…. you’re NOT going to have it under control when He comes back. Let it sink in. This has nothing to do with wanting to do right by God and live by the Bible. Because, if that were on the agenda, the church would look a LOT different from the world. But it DOESN’T and you KNOW IT DOESN’T. This is about a holier-than-thou approach to the world which is devoid of God. This is “we’re taking matters into our own hands”. We are commanded to love God first and then love one another and those are the GREATEST commandments. If you get NOTHING ELSE RIGHT….. those should be priority. But that’s not the priority. Priority is traditions and systems and structure and structures and programs and degrees which say “look at me, guys, I learned this!” but you didn’t learn the most IMPORTANT TWO COMMANDMENTS OF ALL. Love. Love God, love one another. We will never see each other as God sees us….. and I can only imagine…. but when I look around at this world, this universe, it makes me feel like I could crumble to dust because I am not worthy of this love, this visible, solid love all around me that was given to us by our creator. When I think about the love that I have for my family and friends I feel unworthy…… unworthy that the same One which created the universe, also made us out of pure love and gave us to one another to love as He loves us. It makes me feel like an ant. Like this tiny ant with all of this greatness around me and I am nothing…. but I am everything, I am worth so much to God that I can’t even imagine it, I can’t even process it or gather words to express how it makes me feel. And, in that, I see people with only a fraction of love that God has for me, and yet, it feels like everything to me. It feels like everything I have in me. I love them. I love you. I love. Completely and unconditionally, genuinely concerned for the well being of others….. and it is only because God loves me that I am able to feel this. If I feel this….. if it is this intense for me…… God…. created us. Knew us before we were even born….. designed us…. knows infinitely more about the human condition than all of the knowledge we have accumulated in our time here on this planet. And then some. Seen it all. Sees it all. Knows it all. Your filthiest thoughts and evil deeds and mine, as well….. and yet, thought we were worth sending His son to DIE for us. He sees the terrible things that happen around the world, things we aren’t even aware of…… and could end this entire thing right now, raining fire from the sky….. but yet, I wake up and see the sun….. I see the moon and stars before I fall asleep….. as wicked as the world is, it’s still here. How much mercy has He shown us? It’s pure love. God IS love. Man, when you put it into perspective, when you really become fully aware of it and dwell on it…… it just feels so intense like you could die right now…. like you could just die….. because nothing will ever fill you like God’s love. No experience you could ever have in your life will ever compare….. but anyway…. what i’m saying is….. God is in TOTAL control of this. And I feel that we need to do a much better job at demonstrating genuine love for our brothers and sisters in this country. We need to be sharing their burdens and carrying their loads, not creating them and adding to them. I see nothing in the Bible which says if a couple is gay, they can’t be informed of their partner’s passing and obtain medical records and what not. This is nitpicking and it serves no one. Do you understand that this is serving NO ONE? But it is HURTING so many. We are HURTING them. Do you not feel REAL pain for them?? Not even a little bit?

I just think about the sin in my life. You know, I really really try so hard to be a person of sound morals and integrity, someone who is principled, someone with dignity….. and i’m telling you…. the sin can be SO real…. it’s painful. Knowing this, knowing how it makes me feel and what it does to me…. when I feel like I try so hard, yet continuously fail….. it only makes me feel that much more empathy for those around me. Because I KNOW it. I FEEL it. I LIVE it. Every day feels like a battle between the flesh and the spirit. I am in no position to judge another or try to “make them pay”. Jesus paid it all. Life isn’t easy. It’s hard. We know this. WE. KNOW. THIS. Know your role. Know your position. You’re not “letting people get away with sin”…… what you’re doing to these people is a sin. It may not be so glaringly obvious to the untrained eye but it is a sin….. Open arms. You are never too far gone for God to work in your life and neither is anyone else. His arms are always open. If we are to live like Jesus, or strive to, we should be opening our arms to those who need us. I don’t know what the future holds for my children. But as a mother, I can tell you that no matter what they may face in life, I am going to be there for them, as a loving mother, with open arms.

I’m just not okay with all of this. It bothers me. Quit denying people of their civil liberties. It solves nothing and becomes a breeding ground for hostility and aggression and acts of violence. This isn’t 1955. It’s 2015. Can we PLEASE step our game up?

Beatles Dream

Wow. Okay so I was walking around a neighborhood. Don’t know where. Don’t know why, And I heard a band playing some Beatles songs. But……. it REALLY sounded like the Beatles. So I went up to the door to knock and someone opened it and let me in, I guess they were having a house party. When I walked in, the fucking BEATLES were there, playing “Get Back”. Lennon and Harrison were alive and were the age they would be today. It was insane. I was so excited I couldn’t contain myself lol. So i’m in this house party, by myself, dancing to Get back and John and Paul were smiling at me WTFFFFFF. And i’m like……..wondering why the hell no one is paying attention to them?!?! LOL. Unfortunately, the dream skipped and I was out in a field. The moon was in the sky but the moon was the sun. Like, you could see it way off in the distance, casting a glow like the moon but it was brighter and, in the dream, I understood it to be the rising sun. So as it rose higher in the sky, a shadow began to sweep the ground. I ran and tried to beat the light, it was trailing right behind me. I ran to the top of a mound of dirt, like one of the giant ones at construction sites. And when I reached the top, the sun was fully shining on me and I stood there laughing lol….. then I slid down the side of the mound like a freaking 10 year old. But it was really, really steep so I could feel the butterflies in my stomach the whole way down. When I got to the bottom, I said, “Wow, if the sunrise always looked like this, i’d be up waiting for it every morning!”…..because the sun really did look like a brighter moon, it didn’t fully light everything up, it’s hard to explain. It almost looked like a stage prop acting as the sun. It was so weird. When I got home, everyone was upset and my brother was crying. One of his friends got really drunk and decided to walk home and got hit by a car. Oh and at some point in the dream, I was skydiving next to a dog in a parachute. I didn’t have one so I guess I could fly or something lol but I felt myself free falling. The dog actually opened his chute and made it to the ground, safely. Because it wouldn’t be a typical Kristi dream without something as random as a dog skydiving lol. The end.

Stuff to write about.

I really, really, REALLY need to get my computer situation sorted. Asap. I’m going to use my sister’s to make my videos until mine gets fixed. It’s okay. No, really. It’s fine.


I had my appointment today. The teeth. Seriously. Wow. Amazing. Can’t wait. Too excited. WAY too excited. In fact, there are so many things to be excited about these days. Can’t wait to share them all with everyone. I haven’t been sworn to secrecy or anything but I don’t like sharing information until it has actually come to pass lol. I like waiting for things to solidify before I spill the beans. Anyways, the appointment went really well. I love talking to Dr. Martin and Heather. They’re really awesome people. I think everyone would have much better experiences if dentists were more personable. He showed me pictures of weird food he ate in Tokyo and sent me home with a cupcake I mean it doesn’t get more personable than that hahaha. He’s such a great guy, loves his family to death, always talking about his wife and kids. Stuff like that just makes you feel so much more comfortable in what would otherwise be a super awkward situation. I plan on making a video about that in the near future, too.

I am doing FAB. So fabulous. Summer is basically here because Florida. We went to the beach for Memorial Day. Today, when I got home, Kevin was outside barbecuing with his mom and her friend. I’m loving it lol.

Let me just say, when you hit bottom like I have….. it’s hard to stay down. You know? It just is. It’s hard for things to really phase you when you weigh them up against real shit you’ve been through in your life. It’s so much easier to roll with the punches when you survive hell. Keep that in mind when you find yourself going through a crisis. It’s going to make it easier to deal with life when life happens. And let me tell you, life happens. It always will. There will always be something. Cry and feel like shit but keep moving, keep smiling, because, what else are you going to do? Sulk? No.

I was in a really, really good mood today. It was so pretty outside and I thoroughly enjoyed the ride home lol. I love long car rides. Have I mentioned that? I’ve mentioned that.

Because Bob Dylan.

And because always The Beatles:

And Herman’s Hermits.

Annnnnnd the Mamas and Papas, of course. Of COURSE.

The Outsiderrrrrrssssssss

And this Dave Clark Five gem right here you have NO idea. You don’t even appreciate this lol.

I don’t listen to shit music. This is why I love my oldies lol. It’s just impossible to stay sad when I listen to stuff like this. Music like this makes me seriously feel like skydiving lol and shooting up the finger the whole way down with one of the biggest grins I could possibly conjure up. DEFAULT. This music is my DEFAULT. I have a thing. I like that I have a thing. Everyone has some sort of thing they’re into. This is mine. Oldies is my thing. I mean, I have several things but seriously it’s not often that you meet someone my age who prefers this music over anything else. Of course I have already demonstrated that I listen to everything, but, oldies is just my preference. It dominates. If you happen to see me riding around, there’s a strong possibility that this is the shit i’m listening to. Which is why I find it difficult NOT to smile lol. I don’t like filling my head with crap. I don’t like filling it with stuff that’s only going to depress me or cause me to lose hope in humanity. I’m saying. I logged onto facebook this morning and literally the first thing I saw was a picture of a fucking tapeworm someone found in a McDonald’s hamburger. Why. Just…….why…… Why do people feel the need to make themselves more miserable than they have to be? They walk around powerless, just moping everywhere. Never taking responsibility for their own happiness. If something is making you unhappy, do something about it. Or find something that makes you happy. It really is that easy. I know, I know….. it’s not…. but it is. People trap themselves. I know how easy it is to do that. It’s almost like the misery becomes a familiar friend. You feel comfortable in your misery. You’re scared to let go of shit and so you cling to the misery things bring you as a way to still have a grip on whatever the situation is. Even if you’re tremendously unhappy, you’ll hold onto the pain because it’s recognizable. It’s the last shred of whatever the thing was. I do that with my grandparents. Subconsciously, you know. Hindsight, I can see how I do it. I see their picture and just start crying, I feel the pain literally taking over me….. because it makes it still feel real….. even if it hurts…. I hold onto it because in my mind, in that moment, it’s all I have left. If I let go, I let go of them. My rational mind knows that isn’t true. But pain is intense and sometimes we just need to feel something that intense…… when it is impossible to hold them, I hold the pain instead. Until my awareness kicks in and I can admit to myself that I don’t need to look back in pain, I can just appreciate the time I had with them and feel happy about it. I don’t know when I will fully take on that approach but at least I understand the difference in things. Holding onto the pain doesn’t bring them any closer to me. And letting go of it doesn’t make them any less real. I think i’m making sense. I hope. So I know the struggle. That and my parents’ divorce are the two things that will make me cry. I mean boo-hoo cry. And feel real pain…… at least as far as my life is concerned. I feel pain and cry for others but when it comes to my life and the things that affect me, those are the things that affect me the most. But everything else? It’s just so hard to feel real pain, these days. Because nothing has come close to that pain or the pain i’ve felt in my past. So it’s just easier to let things go. Anyways, the point i’m trying to make is….. don’t fill your head with rubbish. Try to fill your head with wholesome things. Things that restore your faith and bring joy to your life. Don’t preoccupy yourself with mindless things, things that add no value or meaning to your life. Like fucking tapeworms in McDonald’s burgers. Gross.

Which brings me to my next topic. Shit that grosses me out. I am not very squeamish. In fact, I consider myself to be pretty gross lol. I mean, for a female, my gross-factor is pretty high. But still, some things just really gross me out.

I really hate watching people eat cereal. Just knowing what is happening, what’s taking place in their mouths. It’s disgusting. They’re macking on some Cinnamon Toast Crunch….. and with every bite, the cold milk is making the cereal soggy…. and they’re breathing…. and the milk pools into the corners of their mouths. Omg it’s literally so gross. I can’t talk to people while they are eating cereal, it just really makes me want to puke. I have had a disgusted look on my face the whole time i’ve spent writing this. Ugh and the sog is like now making it’s way down their digestive tract. And their breath smells like milk. Get out of here and go drink some water or something. You’re disgusting.

You know what? I can’t even write anymore. I’ve grossed myself out. I’m not kidding. That’s how much it grosses me out, thinking about people eating cereal. You’re all a bunch of animals. I’m out. Thanks a lot.

Memorial Day

John 15:13

Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.

I don’t think I have ever written a post for Memorial Day, which is odd. I usually post something to Facebook but today, I felt compelled to actually write.

I don’t think there is anything wrong with people spending this day with family, hanging out at beaches and barbecues (i’m so fat, I wanted to capitalize barbecue LOL) and just generally having a good time. I see a lot of statuses on Facebook where people are like, “today isn’t about cookouts and having fun and…..”….. But, really, it is.

Today is about remembering the men and women who selflessly sacrificed their lives for our freedom. It’s about setting aside our differences and actually enjoying that freedom. It’s a day to rejoice. I don’t know, I just woke up this morning really thinking about it. I am exhausted from all of the work i’ve been doing lately, my bones ache. I feel like i’ve been put in boot camp. So I was just laying in the bed actually dreading having to go to the beach with family today. I started thinking about all the people that will be out at the beaches today and on the roads and i’m already mentally exhausted even thinking about having to interact lol. And so, I just laid there thinking about what today is…. and I noticed how comfortable I was in my bed, drinking my coffee, scrolling through my newsfeed, looking at all of the Memorial Day posts. And I started thinking about how nice it felt to actually breathe. To just be there, safe in my bed, breathing.

Growing up in a family with a strong military history, i’ve heard a lot of war stories. That was always my favorite, I loved hearing my uncles talk about war. But, to me, it was always just stories. Things I had never participated in, never felt the emotions that came along with being at war. But it was always on their faces. When they we speak about it, you could see it in their eyes that they were no longer mentally present in the conversation. I could only imagine what sort of images played in their minds as they reflected on losing brothers in combat. My Uncles knew what they were up against. They knew very well what was happening, that men were leaving and not coming back. But they joined, anyway. In fact, my Uncle Pat was drafted…. and then my Uncle Mike willingly volunteered because he couldn’t stand the idea of Pat going out there while he was at home….my grandma had to sign a waver for him to even go. They saw things. They killed people. They lost close friends…. literally watched them die. They knew their stories. They knew they were getting letters from mothers and wives and children. They knew they were kissing pictures goodnight. And they knew that, when it was over, many of them would be returning in a box, wrapped in the American Flag. This is what they saw.

My Grandpa died an honorable death. My Aunt still has the last letter he wrote to my Grandma. He was so focused on getting back to meet my Dad. My father was only three months old, my grandpa had only two weeks left. There are two stories. There’s the official story and then there is the story from witnesses. The official story is that my Grandpa died in a tank explosion while saving the lives of two other men. The other story is that, while he was trying to save these men from the tank explosion, he was sniped. Either way, he willingly gave up his own life for his fellow soldiers….. and for all of us.

I have mixed feelings about war. The peaceful, humanitarian side of me feels that war is violent and unnecessary. That side of me would want to peacefully protest and ask to stop the war, ask people to set their differences aside and live in peace. To end the killing, end the invasions, end the turmoil and just demonstrate brotherly and sisterly love. That we are all occupying the same planet and that we should live in harmony. But then, there is another side of me…. a more logical side which sees war as a necessary evil. That people, in all of their wickedness, will never be able to live in peace and harmony…. and that some of those people will go to extremes to justify the controlling and killing of innocent people. That they will be occupiers of lands which are not their own and use their own beliefs to justify controlling the lives of others. That people in this world will live in constant fear and paranoia unless men and women bravely step in to defend their right to life and freedom. That part of me sees that killing is necessary for the greater good.

Either way, it’s amazing how I am able to sit comfortably at my desk and write about this without bullets flying past my head and my neighbors homes being blown up all around me. I am too aware of my freedom and the price that came with it. I am too aware of the fact that every American is here, living in freedom, because someone paid for it with their lives. That is why we celebrate on such a somber day. So long as we remember that, there is nothing wrong with gathering with loved ones to celebrate and enjoy life. That’s what people like my grandfather died for.

Bad Romance

I just have to write this before I forget it. Last night, as I was drifting off to sleep…. I guess I was REALLY tired. You know how you are sometimes so tired that you feel a little delirious? Like, as soon as I closed my eyes, a really screwed up image popped into my head. I was looking on from the vantage of the sidewalk leading away from my sister’s front door. Like, as if I was walking out to my car. I glanced at my car to unlock it (night time) and a man was standing at the driver’s side, smiling at me with one of those REALLY creepy-serial-killer-movie smiles. He was balding on the top and his hair was kind of longer on the sides (just to really ingrain that into my memory lol). He was wearing a sweater and some jeans that looked like the ones my grandpa used to wear. His upper body was partially in the driver side window….. and there I was with a wire or something around my neck. He had strangled me to death. My head was slumped over slightly but he was holding me up with the wire in his right hand. That literally is what flashed in my mind before I drifted off to sleep last night :-/

I went to hang with my sister yesterday. She talked me into going with he to CVS so she could exchange some foundation. She’s so responsible lol. I don’t exchange stuff lol I am too lazy for that. Unless it costs like a ton of money, I just deal with the loss lol. I have clothes with tags still on them because I came to the conclusion that i’m not feeling them but also don’t feel like returning them. There’s something wrong with me, I know lol. Anyways, I hate going to drug stores because the nail polish and other random fucking products I don’t need end up calling out to me and i’ll be in there for like an hour, thinking if I bought the right product, my life would somehow vastly improve lol. But anyways, I ended up getting some expensive shampoo and conditioner and she got some expensive face cream….. and we came back to her house, so excited, that she suggested I go upstairs and take a shower to try it out while she cooked me an egg and cheese bagel and baked some brownies lmfao. This is like totally normal for us hahahaha. She wanted me to try it so she could try it and see if it was something she might want to buy. I’m just saying, I felt like I was in ancient Egypt that shit worked so good hahahaha! You really can’t skimp on stuff like that. My hair has been fucked from the iron issue and I just had to cut it again. It’s now just past my shoulders. So anyways, whatevs.

After she got out of the shower, we decided to watch a funny movie to put us in better moods lol. So we watched “Welcome to Me”. Omg. I loved that movie, it’s going on my list of favorites. It is fucking RANDOM. And by random, I mean, chick with borderline personality disorder, who is obsessed with Oprah, wins the lottery, lives in a casino and pays to host her own talk show where she literally only talks about herself……. and she rolls in on a swan boat lmao. I’m saying. RANDOM. Some parts, I was laughing so hard I could barely breathe, some parts I was on the verge of crying. It’s not funny in the sense that there are clever jokes and what not….. it’s funny in how random it is. Superstar is one of me and Shannon’s favorite movies ever because of how fucking random it is lol if that’s any indication as to what kind of sense of humor we have. If you like random movies, this is a good option lol.

I didn’t get home until midnight. So, there goes yesterday. I have a full day of shit to do today.

Ohhhhhh man. I’m about to get super dramatic. Do you ever feel like sometimes you’ve been too subtle, too cautious, to careful, walking on egg shells, tip-toeing around, trying not to make a splash or cause a scene….. but the words have already begun to spin inside of you, beginning slowly but getting faster and faster until the start spinning out of control and you get to THIS POINT RIGHT NOW WHERE YOU EXPLODE?

Like, you’re doing it. You’re getting through the day. You’re making it. You’re here and that’s about it but there’s that something inside of you that can’t be





And it fights its way out of you?

I feel like that RIGHT NOW.

Right now.

That’s how I feel right now.

And i’m going to get into that.

Right now.

I don’t care what anyone says, I don’t care what anyone thinks. I’m wild. That’s it. Not always. I am calm too. But i’m also wild. Wild and calm and everything in between. That’s me. That’s who I am. Precisely. I am neither this nor that I am all of it and everything and nothing, that’s me.

When you’re young, everyone around you places these expectations on you. On who you should be and what you should do and how you should think and how you should feel. But when you’re young, you don’t care. It all goes in one ear and out the other. You don’t want to ride bikes? BYYYYEEEEEE. And you’re out. Well, I was. That was me. No one could control me. I was the out-of-control kid. Not in a harmful way or anything. I never wanted to harm anyone or worry people but I always marched to the beat of my own drum. Of course I was scared, of course I was nervous, of course I was worried and anxious. Of course I cared about what people thought of me. Of course I wanted to please others. Of course I wanted to make people proud of me. Of course I did. Of course I wanted to be a good friend. Of course I wanted to live up to the expectations that were placed on me. The cleaning my room thing. The trying not to shove everything into the closet thing. The making good grades in school thing, the remembering to do my homework thing, the not waking up in the middle of the night and sneaking snacks and soda thing. I did want all of those. The don’t annoy people thing. The don’t ask too many questions thing. The be quiet and compliant thing. The be like them thing. I did and i’d try but it always came back to me and who I was and what I wanted and it trumped all. And so i’d forget about my room and dance to music, instead, I’d shove everything into my closet so I could hang pictures on my wall…. I’d start out doing my homework but end up writing a poem. I’d try to focus in school but would become distracted by the ticking clock and the clicking pens and the birds flying past the window outside and the kids kicking the kickball and the boy in the corner who is wearing the same thing he wore for the past two days and so I couldn’t quite pay attention, sometimes. I wanted to be quiet but I also wanted to know and so i’d ask and tell and talk and interrupt and i’d lose myself in an encyclopedia and forget about everything else I had to do. And sometimes I didn’t want to play house, sometimes I didn’t want to play with barbies, sometimes I wanted to pretend I was an explorer, lost in the woods. Sometimes, I wanted to pretend there was this major fucking crisis going on and my backyard was a warzone and my tree was my fort and i’d defend my territory from these imaginary enemies and that’s what I wanted to do because fuck barbies and fuck you, sometimes, too. I mean, I will be a friend, i’ll listen, I will play along but there will always come a point when I leave, when I go off on my own and you’re welcome to come but you’re not going to stop me from going, once I put one foot in front of the other, there’s no turning back, you’re either with me or you’re not and i’m not apologizing for it. That’s just the way it is. Can’t help it. Sometimes I couldn’t control my tongue because I thought my parents were being really irrational and unfair and the words would just fall out of my mouth and I wouldn’t even attempt to collect them off of the floor, they’d crash and shatter into a million pieces and I wasn’t sorry about it until I was and like i’m sorry but i’m not, you know? And i’d say what was on my mind, i’d tell everyone how I felt and apologize later or not, I mean, whatever. That was the deal. And I would stand there and wouldn’t back down and i’d get the last word if it took all night, if I had to sneak into the room while you were sleeping and whisper it into your ear, I was getting the last word and tucking myself into bed and thinking about the real world and dreaming about my world and waking up somewhere in between the two of them.

I didn’t want to rebel, I wanted to comply, I just wanted more. You know? I’ve always just wanted more.

And so you become an adult and it’s the same old shit but now you just don’t have the same amount of energy to fight it and so you push it down and hide it, kind of like all of the shit that still hides under my bed at 31 years old, you know? You kick it back under there and just keep going. And you’re doing it, you’re living, but you didn’t kill what was inside of you because nothing can ever kill it, it can’t be destroyed. And you can only go so long before it starts beating against the walls of your chest pounding away in the depths of your brain, slipping it’s way out with a word here, thought there, random expedition here, poorly timed joke there….. and you feel it falling out and you grasp at it and try to pull it back in but you’re growing tired and it’s growing to be stronger….. and like a balloon on a string on a windy day in spring it will pull this way and that way and violently rise and fall and tug until, oops…..there it goes….. it’s passed the roof, beyond the trees and telephone lines and now it’s in the clouds and there it goes. It’s out.

I’m saying. I am who I am. And i’m not sorry for it. I’m going to leave a trail of shit behind me as I walk through the house and i’ll try to remember but i’ll sometimes forget and i’m not sorry. I’ll have that day where my only accomplishment was that I managed to not yell at the kids and I restarted the dryer for the second time and that’s me sometimes and i’m sorry but i’m not sorry. Because i’m not perfect and neither are you and i’m not you and you’re not me and you’re not going to tell me who I am or who I should be and I would never do that to you, either and that’s that.

And guess what else? Of course, there’s more. There’s always more, it’s never finished. Life should be lived. Not tolerated. LIVED. Because you’re not half alive, you’re fully alive. And so, you should fully live. And guess what else? Life is going to get VERY uncomfortable. Ridiculously uncomfortable. So get used to it. The moment you find some place of comfort, someone is going to come in and snatch the blanket off of you, leaving you open and exposed. So get used to it. Don’t just half live, full live. Don’t just survive, thrive. Bare your soul and don’t apologize for it. If you want to yell, yell. If you want to cry, cry. If you want to be selfish, be selfish. If you want to laugh, laugh. Whatever is in there, let it out, bring it out. Don’t hold back. People will laugh, mock and knock you down. They can’t steal your soul. They can’t. That thing inside of you that pushes you here and pulls you there….. it’s yours. Not theirs. It doesn’t look like theirs, act like theirs, think like theirs. Let them keep theirs, you’ve got your own and there are no refunds or exchanges so get used to it. The good, the bad and the ugly.

I’m sorry but life is calling. I’ll be doing dishes today but tomorrow i’ll be watching the sunset. I’ll be pouring my soul out onto a loose sheet of notebook paper at 9 AM and giving kids baths at 9 PM. I can do this, I want to do this. But i’m gonna do that, too. I’m not losing myself. I’m not letting her go or giving her up or turning her into something she isn’t. I’m not being tamed or controlled or “domesticated”. Think of me as an indoor/outdoor cat or something. I’ll lay in bed with you and give you company but i’m gonna go outside and scour the neighborhood. And there really isn’t much you can do about it. You can’t turn an indoor/outdoor car into an indoor cat because i’m telling you, she’ll find her way out. She always does. And the more you try to keep her in and turn her into something she isn’t, the more she longs to be out there and the moment she sees that light peek between the door and the door frame, she’s fucking peaced out before you had a chance to even process what was happening. I’ll do this but i’m going to do that, too. I’ll do this but i’m going to do it my way. Not your way or her way or their way. This is me, either take me as I am or don’t. It’s that simple. Either accept me and appreciate me for all that I am, or don’t. You’re either going to love the way I spill my food on the table or you’re not, either way, i’m going to sometimes make a mess on the table. I promise to try to clean it up but it’s not a guarantee. And i’m sorry but i’m not because I am who I am. And I would never change you. In fact, I want to see all of you. I don’t care how ridiculous and absurd you’re being, I just want to see you, the real you, who you actually are. Not you here and you there and in this and that situation but all of you in your entirety and I won’t judge you for it as long as you are honest, as long as you are real. I no longer want to see a made up version of you, a controlled version of you, a methodical version of you. I want to see a great big fucking mess of a human being and I PROMISE I will not just stand there and observe the mess, I will help you tend to it. Because that’s what I want. I don’t want you to spot out what I didn’t do, how I didn’t measure up, where I fall short and just carefully observe from a safe distance. I want you in the fucking trenches with me, I want you to help me carry my load because I would do the same for you. That’s what this is. That’s what life is.

I’m tired of it. I am tired of asphalt and pixels and fresh-out-the-package linen. I like the dirt, I like the sky, I like the sheets my grandma washed a thousand times. I like singing off key. I like straying from the path. I like making a complete fool of myself. I don’t care if my shoes get covered in mud, they’re just fucking SHOES. I don’t CARE if my socks match, NO ONE SEES THEM! I don’t care if we have to have hot dogs again tonight, as long as we had good music playing and tons of laughter, I just don’t fucking care. I don’t care if my hair is a mess right now and that my legs aren’t shaved, I don’t care! I don’t care if I spilled it, I can easily clean it up. I don’t care if I bought the wrong kind because it’s just stuff. It’s JUST stuff. I don’t care if it was authentic or original because it’s just a thing, a thing that can’t talk back, a thing that can’t let me love it, a thing that can’t let me hold it and appreciate my embrace, a thing that can’t let me cry onto it and reassure me that everything is okay. I cannot interact with a FUCKING TELEVISION! I can’t! This is just stuff, these are just things, this is just money, it’s just a house. But you are real and I am real and this world is real and that’s what I want, I want something real. I need it. I can’t live without it because I will DIE or go fucking CRAZY. It’s just a car. It’s just a ring. It’s just a computer. It’s just a floor. It’s only dirt. It’s only a fly. It’s only a paycheck. It’s only a pair of socks. It’s only a dish. But this? This isn’t just “only” life….. it’s OUR ONLY life. Our only time to live. We are on this fucking planet, our lives are miracles manifested and we’re hiding them, burying them beneath stuff and situations and i’m fucking saying, the SUN is out there the STARS are out tonight, the music couldn’t be any more perfect than it is right now, can we please enjoy this while we’re here? While we are existing on this planet together, you and I at this moment in time, please, please let’s just make the best of this. It’s not always perfect, it can’t be, it won’t be, it shouldn’t be. Life is beautiful chaos and confusion and mistakes and while you’re shining that fucking phone for the 10th time, the stars are still shining brighter than it ever could and my love is shining brighter than this fucking rock on my finger and i’m tired of hiding it, i’m tired of controlling. Live with me, or let me live.