Complicated

someone told me that me and my female coworker make make life so complicated that we can’t enjoy it. it seems true. why do guys have it so easy? this sounds bad but i feel like for guys, girls are easy to replace. theres always another pretty, nice, girl that can cook around the corner. good girls just arn’t that hard to find. theres tons of them. thats why theres diets and make up and cute clothes. its way easier to find a decent girl than a decent guy. the trade off is its harder to get a girl to like you than it is to get a guy to like you. but at least you have options.

therefore, as a guy, its okay to give up on your girl, not make things “complicated” because its so much easier to find a new one. its hard to find a guy that’s nice, smart, CUTE, and likes you. and packs the good stuff below. definitely hard to discover till its too late. girls, you can tell. what your getting. guys. no.  so it seems, as a girl, we try harder to “fix” our guys, relationships, whatever, and put ourselves into more complicated situations in which guys think that we should just let go and move on. men are hard to find and harder to train. Shit that guys wouldn’t put up with for a second, we forgive because we don’t wanna go through the process of finding a new one.

Also, its the numbers game. The more girls a guy gets, the more pimp he is. No shame in a high number. As a girl, after that number reaches say, 5, the girl gets that oh so horrible label of “SLUT.” The label can never be removed. The fear that one day she might find a saint of a nice guy and have to confess to a higher number than him sucks. So, mowing through guys, throwing them to the trash like yesterdays panties and quickly picking up a new one, not such a great feeling. Even if there was a place filled with random intelligent y chromosome hotties that could actually pay for there own meal, a girl probably couldn’t date through them like a buffet line.  We can preach double standard all we want but it doesn’t change how we feel about ourselves after the number gets a bit higher than we want.

So we try not to burn bridges with the exs. We continue to try to get all the guys to still be friends with us after all the shit they put us through. And even when we should say “asta la vista” and move on to the next ab honed honey, we hold back whine over our current slacker gaming bf. Why do our masochistic female minds cause us to do stupid things over and over again thinking that the next time the results will be different?  Are there just not enough decent men in there world? Are we afraid of being labeled as sluts? Are we ultimately afraid of being rejected and alone? Do we have higher standards than men? Why is it we try so much harder than men to make things work out instead of bouncing from guy to guy? I don’t know hopefully someone can tell me why we make things so “complicated.”

on kids

so here’s one of those things that i’ve never talked to anyone about and no one knows about me. my thoughts on kids. specifically me and kids.

in general, i hate the creatures. i genuinely do not enjoy being around peoples kids. they’re mindless uncivilized ridiculous little attention hogging selves kinda annoy me. i like having time to myself. i can not see myself giving up this time for another human being. they’re dirty icky little grown ups that drive me nuts. they come in my store and im trying to do everything i can not to hit them with my forklift because they don’t have the sense of survivability to move out of the way. annoying little creatures that should be raised by B.F Skinner untill out of the public eye and they’re trained enough to be of some use to society.

Im pretty sure this was one of the breaking points of my last relationship. He wanted kids. i didn’t. it went to hell. at that point it was a minor financial reason to not want children. but loosing him kinda pushed me to the actual un-liking of kids.

i couldn’t see myself sharing him with another person, sharing his attention and time. i was that insecure. i wanted him all to myself. i don’t know whats wrong with me but the nice thing about a blog is a person can at least admit that to themselves. i am selfish and thats why i don’t have kids. not saying it doesn’t make it not true. just makes it unknown.

and then this guy walks into the store with what looks like a 2 or 3 year old little boy named Logan. blond hair, blue eyes, pulling a little wagon with a truck on it. the wagons home made. he’s pointing to the gate at my forklift in awe going “whats that?” he reminds me so much of someone i just melt. the dads cold as hell. spends hours in the store dragging the kid around, leaving the kid around loosing the kid. i just keep looking at this boy and wondering “what if?” its as if I could see “someone” standing next to him, showing him the store and the tools and telling him “what daddy does for a living.” and i just stopped and watched this for a while lost. because for the first time in my life i imagined what it would be like to watch a kid get raised by someone i cared about. how i would watch them play games together how i would watch my “someone” teach the kid things. how i would love to sit and watch two peoples lives play out in front of me without being jelous or needing attention. it was the wierdest most unnerving feeling and i have no one to talk about it with.

later the dad came around the corner. he had lost logan. people were running around the store. for some reason i could hear him from very far away but im not sure if it was real or imagined. i followed the sound and found the kid in the parking log, sitting in front of the road on one of our tractors. when the dad finally found us he didn’t seem worried. he said thanks then walked across the street to get a cart. logan followed him across the moving traffic, he didn’t look back. he left his wagon in my department till later. he spent the rest of the afternoon leaving logan behind. and i thought, i could actually be a better parent then someone. how scary is that?

this has been haunting my mind lately. i can’t get that kid out of my head.

 

 

Beach Girl

im not blonde with blue eyes

not skinny with endless legs

no butt, long stomach, or hair blowing in the wind

sparkling smile or soft white skin

 

i am burnt from the sun like a crisp golden beach

with eyes that are only green when they’re red

my hair changes color with styles, moods, and summers

my teeth rarely show unless its to growl

 

my short legs are fast and can climb high fruit trees

my strangle-kelp hair can break any brush

my tummy’s not flat but can eat opihi, ice cream and Tabasco sauce at once

i may not be tall but i can dive head first from cliffs and through an 8ft set

 

a makeup less face the same at sunrise and sunset

ratty old clothes not afraid to get wet

flat bare feet over hot sharp rocks

green bottles good times and upside down socks

(cause i don’t know the difference.)

 

know that when you get a local girl

she may not look like the models on tv

but she just maybe

something better.

on being tough (more hunger games)

this is continued from the other hunger games post but its shitty writing so i didn’t wanna mess up the other post with it.  its about the song Eyes Open by taylor swift and it basically just sucks 😀 lol read the other one. peace 😀

*blah blah blah this is the uninteresting part where i while about my life but now i thought of something more interesting to write about so ill probably erase this boring stuff below.*

 
this is how i see life:

its a battle, we are soldiers fighting our own war and every person we meet is an enemy waiting to cut us down. but we fight with smiles, and the right words. “hi how are you doing.” our armor is wearing the right clothes, the make up, the hair. every person you meet theres new rules and tactics to deal with them. more correct words you need to say. “sure. that will be no problem. i really like what you’ve done with your hair. how are you today”

and then if you falter, you fail.

i feel like everyones constantly waiting for me to fail. so they can pounce. i constantly turn into a different “me” for every person i know. “The good girl.” “The party girl.” “The quiet girl.” If at anytime i fail to be what they want, they will eject me from there lives.

“The friends roomates” wait for the one water drip, the one piece of toilet paper, so they can tell me i can’t come by and not have to see me. “The Friend” waits for me to say something wrong, not be perfect so he can find someone new. “the ex friend” waits for me to slip up so he can rage on me and blame the world on me. my parents constantly watching for signs of imperfection. last week i was molested in a parking lot while another guy peed on my car. think i told anyone. no way. because i have to be perfect and ill get yelled at for getting myself in that situation in the first place.
so i gotta be tough. i gotta be perfect. i gotta be happy. i gotta hide everything i feel, every bad day, every thing that happens to me from everyone and just smile. because this is the battle. this is why i say im tough. cause there all waiting for me to fail. theres no room for sleep or rest, i have to always be on the look out.

even in my sleep im afraid ill say the wrong persons name so even then im on guard.

some people are lucky. they have someone they can rest next to. someone who won’t judge them or cast them out for stupid comments or mistakes. someone they don’t have a million secrets from because even the slightest one will send them running away. those people take it for granted because they don’t know what it feels like to never stop pretending, to always try to be what everyone wants.

you may not see the armor that weighs me down but its there. all the time. life is a constant battle to hide the truth, not to let anyone see whats inside so they can’t reject it.

 

 

 

 

Eyes Open – Taylor Swift

 

i am so Katniss.  she was still in the game even when she wasn’t in the arena. thats the whole point of the book right. that the real battle takes place outside. and thats why Peeta was the strong one. because he could charm and smooze and she was just icy cold and struggled to find a personality and to play the social game. Yep. That’d be me. Katniss to the fullest.  I’m tough as nails and definitely a survivor, but i suck bad with people. And yet i watch him sit there and make everyone love him and can’t come close to doing the same.

should i blog about hunger games instead of myself? more interesting. hmm… ill make a separate post just for Hunger Games since it seems not many people “Get it.” they seem to think its like “twilight” because she’s a teenager. Uh, the books are nothing alike. No its not twilight meets truman show like it is in the movie. Its so much more. but I think im running low on computer time so maybe later.

The song talks about the world watching, waiting for you to falter, for there own entertainment. (at least for me, do what you like with it its art its how you relate not concrete).  And I  can really relate with this. Because I see people all day take pleasure in watching people fail. celebrities getting fat, divorced, in rehab. This is entertainment. I see people at work happy to gossip about breakups, and people getting fired, and waiting to swoop in and take their spots. This is no futuristic sci fi. Its a satire on our culture. Both in the movies (aka the arena) or in there private lives (i.e. tabloids etc), the games (entertainment) never ends.

So much more i want to write about these books but it’ll have to be later cause again, im starting to burn out from sugar over load. till then, read the book. its cool if you like social engineering, or books like the Giver, Santa Olivia, or the Host by Stephanie Meyers, I like Utopian societies and books about how altering societies causes people to act. Its a good look at humans in general and how they tend to act as a group.

 

 

 

420 and im not 420ing.

on 420

i don’t smoke pot. if you’ve read this before you’ll know i tried it once, appreciate the benefits, but do not feel that i need a really bad habit that could cost me everything.

on the other hand, if i didn’t work at 5 fucking am tommorow i could really use it. overly stressed and need an escape. plane tickets are expensive. don’t feel like puking tequilla. and i theres no cliff to jump off right now. and there seems to be a current shortage on hot guys with motorcycles tonight.

so yes, right now with all the love and sharing going around, it would be an awesome night to get high. but no, as usual my responsible ass is at home writing blogs instead of releasing my stress through other means. cause i know doing so will prob just mean stress later. spec since i work in like 6 hours.

if ever there was a time where i needed to just not give a shit this would be it. but i do. and im not a stoner. and i don’t need to be cause im tough as hell and can handle.

on self censorship myspace and facebook

also… i’m kinda missing myspace. i used to be able to write shit like this on myspace. how i felt, poems, what i was thinking. i didn’t have to be anonymous because back them people didn’t take all your words and throw them back at you later. myspace friends were your actual friends not your critics.  you don’t ever write anything real on fb. not with all these people you don’t really wanna be friends with on there. you have to edit everything. “what if my coworkers see this. what if my grandaunts see this. what if my ex sees this. oh this might offend these people.” then your stuck in that little “custom” privacy box trying to edit who reads it just incase it may offend people. then your rewriting a one sentence post to make sure it doesn’t offend people and it just irritates me more cause thats not being real. whats the point in expressing yourself online if you have to kiss ass and be fake as much as you do in real life.

the ahole and his toilet

on respect…

i catch this a lot. “what did you say to me?” “don’t take that tone of voice with me.” people can always dish it but they can’t take it. especially men. its like if i say something back there balls shrivell up and they need to assert themselves to get them back.

one thing i absolutely hate is this machismo bull shit. here is an example of the shit i put up with all the time.

“uh. could you do me a favor. could you please learn to flush the toilet because its really gross if i have to go in there after you and theres shit in it.”

no. i do not reply that i did not use the toilet. it wasn’t me. that you’ve analyzed the toilet after i used it that last 47 times checking. that i flush it three times and double check so you’ll stop telling the world i don’t know how to take a dump. i calmly say “ok. no problem.” over and over and over…

“hey, could you wipe up any spot of water in the bathroom. hey could you make sure theres no drops of water on the sink.” can you see why i feel picked on? what would you do.

so tonight i made the mistake of talking back. very unlime myself. and all shit broke loose.

asshole: “did you make sure you flushed!” *laughter*

me: “yes. would you like to check to see if I wiped?” (attempt at humor)

asshole: “what did you say to me! you better not have! not in my house. wipe your ass…” blah blah blah

friend: “that was uncool. don’t be sarcastic with him.”

so im getting tired of having people hold shit over my head. all the time. again my whole life, i avoid being in debt to anyone so they can’t hold shit over my head like this. if i don’t kiss his ass then i cant visit my friend. if i don’t suck up to my uncle then he’ll cut down my roses or trash my car. wtf people. not my fault you are so insecure you always see me as the person to pick on to make yourself feel better.

this guy treats me like a dog with worms wiping my ass across his house. i mean, literally, treats me like shit. if they have a get together with friends with dinner, im the only one who never gets offered any food. if i do eat, its off my friends plate like a dog. never my own. all i do is go to my friends room, nap on the floor, and occasionally when no one is around use the bathroom. i don’t use the fridge, i was the dishes, i don’t set foot in the living room. i just nap on the floor of my friends bedroom and eat handouts and drink water. and they feel they are so generous.

im not greedy. but “asshole” does not pay rent nor give me anything. i wouldn’t be there except for the friend. and im really tired of kissing peoples asses because they want “respect.” respect is earned and doesn’t come with age or a cock.