Saturday, April 13, 2013

This post doesn't deserve a title. Stupid post.

Poop on today. Right on it. All over it, even. Poop all over today. It sucked.

Wait, I'm supposed to be more positive, or so they tell me. Ok, what good things happened today?

I finally did my dishes and I'm pretty sure I didn't die. Yep, that's it for accomplishments...

My day started at 2am when Ant (previously known as the Ex...we're kind of together again but it's stupidly complicated) said he "didn't feel so great" and the proceeded to puke for several hours. I am pukephobic (it's totally a thing!) so comforting him was less than easy and involved plugging my ears, closing my eyes and pretending it wasn't happening. Real fucking supportive. I suck.

Then my grandma couldn't sleep (you know, puking is a little distracting and, well, loud) and she had to get up at 8am which meant I had to get up at 8am too, of course. Then again I hadn't yet slept by then so it wasn't really a matter of "getting up" but more a matter of "fuck it, I'm not sleeping anyways!" So, ya know, that worked out just swell-like.

I finally went to sleep around 8:30 because Ant was pretty sure he didn't have anything else he COULD throw up and grandma was ready to go to visit my brother. I slept for about 8 seconds, however, before my grandma needed help packing something. Then she woke me up again 10 seconds later to find her phone which was, of course, in her purse.

Also, I just want to say, I fucking hate iTunes. I just got a new (used but new to me) iPod touch and syncing it with iTunes on my computer (you know, to get the music from my computer onto it so I can USE it. Is that too much to ask? Apparently) is almost more damn trouble than it's worth.

*insert string of curses I'm too lazy to think up*

Oh and I tried to do my taxes today (I know it's late. I'm skilled at procrastination. Gotta be good at something, right?) but it turns out I'm not smart enough. Fuck it, I'll let someone else do them for me. I have done my own taxes most of my adult life but apparently someone else has possession of the Brain today (don't worry, that's normal. My mom, best friend and I all share one. Today was not my day to have it, that's all) so THAT'S not happening.

This was not a real post. This was me being bitchy. I'm sorry if you've read this far. You should go read something good. I totally owe you something for this poor excuse for a post. Maybe when I'm no longer a hobo I'll buy you a drink, person who is still reading this. Maybe.

Wednesday, April 10, 2013

My spine is NOT a violin

So the day before yesterday I sat down to write and realized I didn't have anything to write about again because my life stopped blowing up so I thought I'd write a story from my past but then IT BLEW UP AGAIN!

Ok, only sort of. I woke up all pukey...I mean really pukey and I went to the doctor and they thought my gall bladder stabbed me but apparently my stomach just hates me and the diagnosis was "well, it's not the gall bladder so...I dunno" and now I'm not pukey but I feel like someone punched me in the chest until they reached my spine then they grabbed said spine and tried to play it like a violin.

My spine is NOT a violin. But, if it were, at least I might be hearing pretty music right now though, with my luck, the person doing it would be a 4th grader just learning how to play and thinking they're really good and then they'll call their mom in because they finally learned Hot Cross Buns but I will have had to hear all the shitty screw ups on the way to learning Hot Cross Buns and I'll just be like, "NO LADY, your son/daughter SUCKS at the violin! Don't encourage it!" And then she'll slap me because that's a mean thing to say to a 4th grader and he/she is trying really hard and you should hear the other kids in the class. Now THEY suck!

I think I had a point but I lost it in the gaping hole in my chest.

And this is what I would look like if I HAD a gaping hole in my chest.
(Warning: if you are squeamish about horribly drawn cartoon chest holes DO NOT SCROLL DOWN!)

 Oh, and, in case you're wondering, I do, in fact have arms, legs AND a head. I'm too lazy to draw them but, I assure you, I am fully equipped in those areas.

Sunday, April 7, 2013

When your life blows up, don't get a tattoo

Note: I feel I should explain this before telling this story as I've already complained about my mother and my mom are two different people. My mother is the person who sort of raised me and taught me that I am fat and worthless. She is manipulative and self-serving. My mom used to be married to my dad but is not anymore. She adopted me when they split and has been trying to reverse my mother's hold on me. She is sweet, loving and a little bit fucking crazy, just like me. Any questions?

I think I stepped on a bad luck landmine this last month. No, seriously. It felt like I walked under a ladder holding an umbrella inside a mirror store that I blew up while kicking a black cat. It could have been worse but only if I had spilled some salt and not thrown it over my shoulder.

I already wrote about my boyfriend of 2 and a half years breaking up with me, my former fiance leaving the country, my family hating me, my job that nearly killed me, etc, so I'll spare you going through all of that again but it's blown up more since then so I thought I'd share.

Well this week my grandma ended up in the hospital (just for a night and she's fine now but we thought she might have had a heart attack) and, while she was there the Ex went missing (as in no one had heard from him for over 24 hours and we're afraid he's in the hospital or worse. He is just TERRIBLE at remembering phone numbers and he doesn't have a cell phone so we would never even know if he was in trouble) and I had to try to track him down to make sure he wasn't dead.

Ok, really I told you that so I could tell you about the conversation my mom and I had but before I do that, I should give a little background (very little so bear with me)

I have a series of tattoos I want to get but haven't had the money for. One of them is a butterfly for my grandma (she loves butterflies and butterflies always make me think of her) and another is the Kanji for "soul-friends" or "kindred spirits" that I want to get because I believe that some people in your life are friends to your soul, kind of like soul mates but there are more of them. I'm getting it on my right forearm because I believe the Ex is one of those soul friends and he got his first tattoo on his right forearm.

So, in essence, I'm getting one for grandma and one for the Ex (though it's not just for him but whatever!)

Driving back to the hospital to drop off some things my grandma needed, after finding out the Ex was MIA my mom and I went past a tattoo parlor and my mom started laughing. This conversation ensued:

Mom: Oh my God, we should TOTALLY get tattoos! Because that would be a PERFECT way to end today!

Me: (Laughing) Well I think I'm running on so much coffee and adrenaline that I probably wouldn't feel it...but that's probably a bad idea.

Me: (in my head because I'm a terrible person) If we did, I should get the butterfly just in case my grandma dies today. NO NO NO She's FINE! What the hell, Roo? What's wrong with you?

Me: (after awkward pause in which I was thinking bad things) I think I want to get my "soul-friends" tattoo first because---

Mom: (Interrupting with hysterical laughter) Yeah, that way if the Ex is dead his soul will be called to your arm like a beacon and he could tell us what happened. THAT'S WHERE MY HEAD WENT. I AM FUCKED UP!

Then we were both overcome with laughter and somehow I got out that I had already had a similar terrible thought. There's a reason we're related...

Wednesday, April 3, 2013

Never. A-fucking-gain

Sometimes I think my life is made up of a series of crappy days (or possibly crappy decisions...come to think of it, it's probably that)

I'm poor. I'm close to homeless poor. I have 2 jobs but they're not enough to pay rent so I'm looking for a third. In the meantime I've been responding to the "gigs" section of Craigslist. Because it's better than nothing? Because I get pukey when I donate plasma and, even if it is good, easy money it's just not fucking worth it? Because I'm an idiot or a masochist or I think I can do things I can't? Yeah, all of those.

In addition to being poor I am fat and (obviously) out of shape. WOEFULLY out of shape. Like out-of-breath-when-I-walk-up-one-flight-of-stairs out of shape.

So possibly I was high when I responded to the guy looking for people to put flyers for his lawn care company on doorsteps. The goddamn ad stated very clearly that there would be a LOT of walking involved. The hours he was looking for were 10 to 4. That's five hours. Of walking. All of it. And yet some part of my brain said, "Sure, dumb-ass, give it a try" so I did.

And now I can't walk. I will never walk again. I am stuck to this chair and I will never, ever get up. Fuck walking. What did it ever do for me besides get me sunburnt and attacked by a goddamn dog? Ok, I might walk to the bathtub in, like, a year but that is IT!

Can I get a maid for $50?

I mean $50 for my entire lifetime because I'll never be able to make more money...any takers?

Don't get me wrong, it was good money and I actually had fun for, like, the first half hour but it all went downhill from there. Did I mention I got attacked by a dog? And a sunburn? (I got a sunburn, I didn't get attacked by one. Do I need to clarify that? I hope not...)

Also WHAT is UP with people having 18 THOUSAND steps to their front door? Why do you need that? This is Wisconsin. It's not exactly flood country and, even if it was, your fucking garage is on the ground so you STILL fail! Seriously, What. The. Fuck?

Oh and, to make matters worse, I had a mile and a half walk to make AFTER it was all done to get home from the bus stop! Now, before you smack me in the head for being such an idiot, setting this thing up, knowing I had to walk, let me defend myself. I THOUGHT my ex-boyfriend was going to be back from his grandma's today (he told me he would be. How dumb of me to believe him) but I got an e-mail from him saying he was staying another night. I had PLANNED on asking him to pick me up from the bus stop but he was 2 hours away. Motherfucker!

Luckily I have an awesome friend who came all to the annoying side of town to get me so that I didn't end up in the ER. So I didn't actually have to walk at all. Sorry for misleading you. It won't happen again (please keep in mind that I sometimes make promises I can't keep. Sorry for the future)

I think, maybe, being a prostitute would be easier. But I run into the same problems there too...I'm fat. Damn.

Tuesday, April 2, 2013

Thank God I'm not a REAL blogger

I'm so glad no one reads my blog because FUCK would they ever be disappointed! I mean, really? How many months and this is only my THIRD post? What the hell, Roo? What's wrong with you?

But, really, my life kinda blew up lately. My boyfriend left me, I realized that my fucked up, manipulative crazy-bitch mother has somehow convinced my whole family to hate me, I found out that my ex-fiance (whom I still love because you don't just STOP loving a person you almost married) is leaving the country, I'm trying to find a new place to live because I can't afford this place on my own, and my panic attacks have increased ten-fold because I was stupid enough to rely on my now-ex-boyfriend to get me through them (they mostly happen at night and now I'm alone at night. Fuck) Oh and I'm trying to find another job.


Still, it could be worse and I know that. That fact doesn't make it feel less shitty though.

My point is I'm really glad no one reads this shit.

End rant.