Turn and face the strain

I'll update more later. But my weekend consisted of Lynne visiting and partying till the crack ass of dawn with her and company. Then my great grandma turned 100 this weekend (technically today maybe? or tomorrow but this weekend was better for everyone) and mostly all of my family came to see her. I don't think many have seen someone that old close up.

So now I'm struggling to sleep, thinking of the past and decisions I've made and shit I've said and blah blah blah. I feel like moving to somewhere new. Maybe I think by running away from old memories they will disappear quicker? I know it won't but a change of scenery might be an option. Where to go? Down south with my parents where I know no one but them? DEF not with my sister in the northern south, she's a bia. Up north with the doctor where he'll have no time to hang out with the new transitor? Out east where there's no room for me but to live with a stranger? And to think I also have little funds to rent a U-Haul to drive all my shit somewhere where I might have a friend living. I'm not good with self change. I handled it well when moving around the world where my parents were steering. Now I'm in charge of my own fate and it's scary as hell. I fear change and yet I'm smack dab in the middle of it.

SO here's a pic of the first (of many??) change(s). A before and after picture of my hair (not taken at the time).














Time to sleep. My dear mother is sleeping on the couch so I can drive her to the airport tomorrow to go back to Florida after a crazy weekend. I probably should sleep so I can even drive. It's not too late though. But it will be after I get sucked into this book I'm reading about Broadway dogs and the trainer that made them all famous. I'm a huge nerd I know. I fucking love it.

Glutton for Punishment

So today was the annual Canadian Thanksgiving get together from my dad's side of the family. I took the time off work to drive 2 hours to be with my family for dinner since my immediate family lives 2 days away. It was great to see my family, especially my grandparents since my grandpa turns 88 on Tuesday and we celebrated it today. The best part was when we all sang "Happy Birthday" to him and then 5 minutes later my grandma goes, "wouldn't it be nice if we sang 'Happy Birthday' to Jake?" She's old and forgetful but we all had a great laugh over it. I ate too much stuffing, as always cuz it's totally the best part and now my insides are gurgling and I'm hitting up the bathroom like it's going out of style.



In other news, I dyed my hair dark reddish brown. It looked lighter
on the box but it looks like JoAnna Garcia's from Privileged. I like it but I'm just not used to having hair that dark. I feel like I look like Snow White with my paler skin and darker hair. But hey, she snagged a prince so maybe I can too for once?






I have a full week of work + working out so basically I lead one of the most boring lives ever but I'm slowly finding my happy place. I have great friends, an awesome place to live, a job that is not my dream but I make good money, and my health (cliche? yes but true since I don't have health insurance, dumb I know) so I can't really complain. I'm still pulling myself together to find who I am as an individual and it's a fun process. I've already started compiling a list of qualities I want in my next boyfriend, something I've actually subconsciously been doing for months; I knew better but never wanted to admit the facts. So life goes on. Time to gather up Cohen and head to bed. Tomorrow I have to work a double and all I'm going to eat is a saltine cracker. Until next time my faithful readers (Rob and Sarah), I'll leave you with this advice: Don't eat a plateful of stuffing without taking Pepto first. Your asshole with thank you.

Better In Time

So I joined a gym yesterday and worked out for 2 hours. My goal is to feed good about how I look in a bathing suit. Go me! It was torture because I was hungry and decided that Taco Bell would be a great idea an hour before the gym. Not the case. I was feeling awful after the gym. But during the gym it felt great. I made a commitment that I intent to keep!
And I started growing out my nails about 2 weeks ago. They are long enough to paint but not long enough where anyone really notices a difference but me, which is a lot for me. I've grown them out ONCE that I can remember in the past 20 years. So I'm optimistic about keeping them long this time. It's a big change for me. I feel like being in the relationship I was in the last 3 1/2 years I lost a lot of myself. Which happens and is not unusual, but I want to get back to me and do things for myself. I'm sure working out and growing out my nails might attract men (bonus!) but I'm not ready to date yet, I've decided. I have a lot of work to do on me on the inside before I can work on anyone else. Maybe I'll make an exception to work on someone else's outsides... ;) HA!

So I was all excited to post in the blog and now I feel blah and not entertaining so here's something from the archives:

Monday, December 5th, 2005

Two Things You Want Really Badly
1. my fridge to be constantly stocked with 2% milk
2. a truckload of money to arrive on my doorstep, filled with $100 bills with my beautiful, photogenic face on them that are accepted everywhere

Two Things You Normally Wouldn't Admit
1. i don't wash my feet everytime i shower
2. the last time i peed my pants was not when i was 5 years old or under

AND the ever unforgettable...

Sunday, June 5th, 2005

5:29 pm - my name is miguel

i'm going on a trip in my pants with my sistas and with me i'm bringing: Anal probe, Baboushka, Crustacean, Dalmation with uric acid, not urine, Entemologist, French poodle with a facelift, Gorgonzola filet, Hungry Hungru Hippo, Indigo girl, Jermaine Dupre, Kangaroo droppings, Lingere made from liver, My left fallopian tube, Nude babies parenthesee seven parenthesee Opium, to shake things up a bit. Peanut farmer, Queer literature, to stimulate our minds, Richard Simmons with a case of the rabies, Severe injury resulting from Michelle's automobile, Terry cloth bathrobe, Urinary tract infection resulting from sexual intercourse with Jesus H. Christ, Venemous 12-year old boy, Wolf shirts, Xanadu the place, not ze movie, Yaxipads, because I'm bleeding between my legs Zippers all of this resulted from boredom on the way to e. lansing to visit kt and tom. we saw "the sisterhood of the traveling pants" and since there were 5 of us, we all were different characters in the movie, and passed around michelle's leopard print stretch pants whenever our character's piece appeared. it was hilarious. and then we had a photo montage.

Breaking up IS hard to do

What is so hard about breakups? You decide to be with someone for a while, decide that it's not worth salvaging and then break up. What is hard about it? Life goes on- you move on. Nope, not that simple. The whole closure issue is an issue among itself. Who initiates it? Who's going to be the first to crack and open the lines of communication. No one wants to look weak and say, "I want to work on it" when part of you is thinking, what if they say "it's not worth it." It's tedious and emotional and complicated and annoying. I was with him for 3 1/2 years, for God's sake we lived together for a year and I still can't get up the nerve to just call him. I can email him kinda fine without thinking about it 20 times, and texting is like, I probably shouldn't but maybe I can get away with saying it was an accident but I know it's intentional but maybe he'll respond with something funny instead of "what?" I feel like I said all I've need to say by email but facing him is terrifying and it shouldn't be. I've seen him at his most vulnerable, things he'd never let his friends see, but I can't call him. I think part of it is because he broke my heart and I'm still aching. I'm shaking right now thinking about it.

It's hard to envision yourself growing old with someone when your relationship fizzles after only a couple of years and then you're left to pick up the pieces. Everyone said we'd never work out after the first breakup, then the second, and now it's the third (I don't count the breakups in between that either only lasted a few hours or a day)- I think I need to open my ears better. Part of me is thinking that I should just get over it and move on because everyone else expects me to do. But whether you're breaking up for the first time or the third time, it really doesn't get any easier. I'm still left thinking what I did wrong or what he did wrong or was it something I said or what I didn't say. I'm an over analyzer, which is a quality about myself I despise but I'm left to deal.

It's hard when there's that one person you tell everything to, whether it's something funny you read or saw or thought. There are things I told him that I wouldn't dream of telling my regular friends just cuz they thought I'd be crazy for telling them something so stupid, but I told him everything. I told him what color underwear I was wearing that day to make him smile and think of me wearing it. I told him I heard a song on the radio that made me think of him. If I was up earlier than him, I'd warn him about the weather- "it's cold out, wear a long sleeve shirt today." I told him I was just thinking about him and that I missed him, even sometimes right after I had seen him. It's hard to break that habit overnight. Sometimes now, well not right this second, but since the breakup I'll reach for my phone to text him something funny and then remember that we aren't together and not really speaking and I get really sad.

I know that there is a life out there for me without him, and possibly someone else. I'm not ready for that someone else yet, but I guess I should start getting ready for the world with just me.

"You can't be the other half of someone else if you can't complete yourself."- Lynne Flaherty, best friend and guru.


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Ok, so far I'm not fulfilling the funny part of my blog. But it's also late at night when I feel most depressed. I'll post better shit later. I found some funny posts from the past few years on my myspace blog and livejournal that I'll archive on this bitch.

Props to the Princess

Rob showed me that blogs are cool.

I think that Leonardo DiCaprio is still smokin' hot, and I really hate the gross lip film that I leave on a glass I'm drinking out of while I'm eating Velveeta mac n' cheese. You know what I'm talking about? This thick, filmy yellow goop in place of a lip print. I hate drinking out of the same lip print twice on my glass that by the end of my drinking pleasure is covered all around the rim with yellow filmy goop.

I named my blog Tootie Frooti A La Rootie cuz that's honestly the first thing that came to mind. I know it's not the real lyrics to Lil' Richard's big hit cuz I just googled them after I inputed my data into my blog, but I'm not caring.


I have a lot more to say but my hair is still wet and my work shirts are still wrinkly so I must tend to that.