life is weird
Okay, so the dance is worth it. I just get cranky when I’m face-down in a mud puddle and a dog lifts its leg like I’m a fire hydrant. Who wouldn’t, right?
Here’s something new for me. I’m the acting parent of an 18-month old. If that doesn’t put shit in perspective, nothing will. He’s pretty well-behaved so I’ve been lucky, but he runs a million miles an hour nearly every moment he’s awake. The flip side is that he loves to watch sports as much as I do and he typically will snuggle up on the couch with me and the dog to watch when it’s on.
He’s good to have around. I don’t know what the hell he’s saying most of the time, but I’m becoming familiar with his crazy talk. I don’t know if that says more about me or him really.
How did he end up here, anyway? I know his mom and dad. They’re going through what appears to be building up to a pretty messy divorce. His dad is on the road a lot for work, so he can’t be the primary caretaker. His mom is kind of struggling to figure out what she really wants to do with herself. There’s the potential that she’ll permanently relocate to Virginia (which is like… really far away from here). She’s pretty stressed about all of that.
I think she needed some time to settle herself. I don’t know for sure since she hasn’t really told me, but she dropped him off with me a week ago and hasn’t been back since. Maybe she’s not coming back. I don’t really know.
His dad is one of my best friends. More than that really. I think all involved are comfortable with where the little man is and that he’s taken care of here while they sort out what’s going to happen.
I love the little dude though. It’s impossible not to. He’s adorable. Even when puking all over me (which he’s done a couple times).
Maybe he stays here for good? Like I said, I don’t know, but I’m preparing myself for anything.
too much to ask
Sometimes I wonder whether this whole dance is worth it. Garth Brooks said he could have missed the pain, but he’d have had to miss the dance.
Well, Garth, I’ve had the pain and I’ve had the dance too. Sometimes the dance isn’t worth it.
Is it really too much to ask for someone to think of you as one of the most important pieces of their life? Is walking away because you felt like you didn’t even crack the top 20 really all that selfish?
I don’t think it is. I don’t think it’s too much to ask that whomever I’m supposed to dance with think I’m at least in the top 3 things in their atmosphere. I’ll even concede top 5. But if I drop out of the top 10 and hang out there for a few months, they shouldn’t get mad at me when I finally ask the question. Stay or go? If they can’t even ask me to stay then?
The fault for the end of that lies at their feet, not mine. Fight while there’s still something there to fight for. Complacency gets you nothing. Waiting until it’s over to throw a jab or two only hurts. It never helps.
You waited too long to realize you’d put me on a shelf. I’m sorry for that. When I asked you if you wanted me to stay and you said nothing? That’s as good as telling me to leave. Waiting until I’m gone and broken and then throwing the blame at me for the end of it? That hurts.
Incredibly tired of Winter. That is all.
Don’t really want to deal with the end of week bar invitations that came my way this week.
It gets old being the the only responsible one in your social group. Living the farthest away makes that a choice I don’t really have. Longest commute to the party equals the DD every time. Because ‘well, it’s on your way’. The only thing that means, aside from the increased chance I’ll be vaccuming vomit out of my car interior before the weekend is over, is that I get the opportunity to sit in a bar not of my choosing with really, really drunk people who know I’ll take care of them because I always do.
I think I’m mostly a little chapped about it because I know if I chose to be the one actually participating in the evening, I’d wake up Saturday morning with a hangover, sleeping god knows where because nobody else bothered to take the reins and make sure I got home that night.
“I’m going for one drink” turns into the whole night because I get there and see the people around me knowing that I’ll be the one to make sure they make it home in one piece. I show up and somehow rounds and rounds of shots show up the exact same time.
Feeling like a babysitter with your friends isn’t a good time, people. Sometimes I like to have fun too. But I never get the opportunity. Frankly I wouldn’t know anymore what to do with it if I did. I certainly used to.
Hoping for a few hours above zero today. Two minutes away from having to go start my car so it’ll be almost warm enough to drive in a half hour.
I have a strong, strong dislike for winter.
Am I the only person on the planet who has yet to upgrade her phone to some fancy BlackBerry Storm or iPhone or Google phone or droid or whatever the latest phone of the moment is? I’m still using the same blackberry I’ve had since 2005. I love my blackberry. It’s beat up and doesn’t even look like it should work anymore. The blue is completely scraped off in most places. The screen has been replaced three times because I couldn’t see through the scratches.
This phone has been with me for too long to give up on it now. Doesn’t drop calls in most places. Still texts like the first time out of the box. No fancy aps I don’t need or don’t need to waste my time with. Just my phone. My lifeline to the world.
What’s with everyone’s need to have the newest, the latest, the most up-to-date everything? What’s so wrong with the old, the used, the broken-in? I like it just fine. I drive a beat up old jeep. I still wear the same favorite jeans I’ve had since college. I wear tshirts from high school. Not “vintage”. Just old. Just comfortable. Worn just the way they should be from actually being…. worn.
I’m comfortable with the old stuff. I prefer it. I don’t get the need to be so up on the latest fad. Maybe someone should explain it to me.
Random Daze theme by Polaraul