Hell Week ...

A smattering of thoughts:

• My uncle tried committing suicide this week--although he claims not to remember doing any such thing.
• No one but preachers use cross references in a bible, and no one but preachers and those trying to impress others even read the god-damned thing from cover to cover--so why the fuck is it the best-selling book in the world? Vanity, pure and simple.
• People are assholes, which is why school shootings occur. It's at times like these where I agree with Ebeneezer Scrooge in that we need to rid the world of the surplus population--beginning with the shooter in Connecticut today. Although I will say
  • I am against the death penalty and
  • we would start with people like the shooter in Connecticut who did the world a favor and took himself out--just too late to save the non-surplus population
• Russia sucks. Yes, I said it. I mean it. Those poor god damned Russians...
• That last point had nothing to do with anything.
• But I like bulleted points, and I've had a full bottle of pinot grigio... That makes my opinions fact. You didn't realize?

Regardless--or, irregardless, which means the same thing but just sounds plain fancier--in less than 15 days I get to see my mother and father again. And my siblings. And my friends. I'm considering calling the ex for breakfast or lunch or something, but I'm, not feeling exactly charitable, despite the time of year, so that's up in the air... We'll see...

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And I still miss my dog Hawthorne something terrible...

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But there is a new one taking his place. Not that I don;t love Gizmo--the lil guy just tugs a heart-string I didn't know I had! But Maybel... My dear sweet Maybel... Kind, sweet, quiet, shy, gentle Maybel, of unknown parentage (excepting the mother, a black-and-tan German Shepherd whom she doesn't resemble in the slightest), of gentle nature and bottomless heart... I didn't know emotionally (although logically I did) that I could fall for another so soon--dog, that is. Smart as a whip, loving as a--well, a dog? I'm too tipsy to think that much outside the box at the moment, LOL!

IRregardless, it's winding down the end of a long, emotional year. Just a month ago last year, I started a new life filled with anxiety, worry, not just a bit of turmoil, and a hell of a lot of gumption, if I do say so myself. After all, who leaves an unhealthy relationship by moving across the country? Probably those of us too sick in the head to face life head on... Or maybe it's those of us who like to take things to the extreme by going to the exact opposite of what we had been doing for thirteen years? 

Perhaps I should just get a new goddamn therapist already and be done with it. Ce la vie... 

Now French--that's a freaking sexy language!

I've also decided to UNsubscribe from all the right-wing newsletters and bullshit. After all, it does nothing for my mood and everything for my high-blood pressure (which I don't have but would like to avoid, if it's all the same to you...), the breaking point being that asshole from the not-so-much "Family Research Council" using the Connecticut school shooting as a Christmas message! Really? Death to 5-year-olds makes you think "Now is the time to preach about baby Jesus!"? Seriously?? Talk about your surplus population. His ilk should be the next against the wall when the revolution comes... Given humanity's track record, however, that's still too far away... 
 
But where was I? Oh, yes... Surplus populations, amnesiac suicidal tendencies, and a partridge in a fucking pine tree.... 'Tis the season, my lovelies! Embrace the chaos, thrill in the weirdness of life, realize you cannot choose your family even though you can choose to love, and know this--it ain't over til the fat lady sings, and I ain't but sure that unless she top's the Guinness Book of World Records? She ain't the right fat lady... 

Until next time, my friends... I leave you with this tree, which the Blue-eyed Devil and I got for free.... :)

A Hint of Color...

It’s gonna be a while til I own something pretty again. Not that I’m a materialist or anything—not in the true sense of the word in that I think material possessions are the end-all be-all of our existence on this planet. However, theres a part of me that just… Appreciates the finer things in life.

As one of my dear friends put it, I should have been born wealthy.

Pair that statement up with my penchant for dumpster diving, and it’s just one of those things that has most shaking their heads in wonder.

But hell, if it’s free, I’ll gladly take two. Three, if they are available.

I didn’t bring much with me, although I had that trailer packed so tight, you’d think I did. I come from a long, long line of pack rats, however. So for me to give up 2/3s to 3/4s of my material possessions, knowing that my mental and emotional well-being were at stake, well, that’s a small price to pay in the grand scheme of things.

As I sit here in my uber-white living room, within easy view of my uber-white kitchen, uber-white bathroom, backed by my uber-white bedroom, I can’t help but think of Nathan Lane’s line from The Birdcage: “Well, one does want a hint of color.”

And this, my friends, family, and other reader’s who are unknown to me, is why I find myself 1732 miles from my former life: A hint of color. Read that as year-round sun tan, read that as “life in Pennsylvania was boring,” read it however you wish. That statement in poetic that way, in that color to one is listless and dull to another.

I am gonna paint at least one of these rooms, however. I can’t live in a white world anymore than I can live in a black world. Trading the emotional black for the literal white just ain’t my cup of tea—and, since we’re on the subject, Orange Peoke isn’t my cup either. But then again, there ain’t no Turkey Hill or Icey Tea to be had ‘round these parts, and I am loathe to try the local brands, as I remember the last time I had tea in the south. Let’s just say, one does want a hint of lemon and an understatement of sugar at times…

I am managing to scrape by, just to put you at ease. And when I say “scrape,” well, I wish that were hyberbole. I never knew pennies had such value when Friday is approaching but not quite here yet and that paycheck is needed to keep food on the table, or electricity in the apartment, or to make sure you keep that car you had to buy in your own possession. Truth.

But strangely enough… No, scratch that. I don’t feel it’s strange at all. Also Truth. I am happier. Contenter (if you will allow the creative wordsmith to create words, that is…). Calmer. Not only because I am now in control of all money coming and going within my world, I don’t have to listen to anyone else bitching about it. Being depressed about it. Being morose about it.

Yes, you could say I’m still a bit bitter about the way the last relationship ended, but you could also say I’m simply processing yet, and move on as I am trying to do. It is funny that, even though I’m poorer than I ever have been in my life, I’m doing more in life than I’ve ever done. Part of that is not living in the country, surrounded by the woods and fields and solitude I love and miss. Part of that, though, is I don’t have to argue over spending $5 here or $2 there. Part of it is also there are more free things to do in Florida than there ever was in Pennsylvania—be that because of the beach, the tourism centered economy, what-have-you.

But I refuse to be defined by how much money I do or don’t have. Do I miss pretty things? Yes, of course. Who wouldn’t just die to have the money to buy every single shiny thing that caught their eye? (Well, perhaps not die to have money… A bit self-defeating upon reflection…) But you catch my drift. Now if I owned a cat that had an ounce of common sense, that would be of immense help in keeping the (shrinking) number of pretty things I already (used to) own! He’s just lucky he’s a good mouse/bug/lizard killer…

I do finally own a bed, after what—3, 4 months?—of futon sleeping. A luxury I will never ever take for granted again… That is, bed sleeping, not futon sleeping. Ugh! But now that the futon can stay a permanent couch, well, things are feeling a bit more homey around here. It’s amazing the psychological and mental implications of not sleeping in your living room… But again, that could just be me…

I realize I’m rambling and that most of the paragraphs above don’t stay on topic, but hey! Them’s the breaks…

I’d also like to point out that, despite what Animal Planet or Discovery Channel would have you believe with all their shows about Florida, it is not rampant down here with alligators or pythons. Nary a one has darkened my doorway, let alone my postage-stamp-sized yard or pool. Talk about disappointment! On the bright side, I’m not worried nearly as much as I was previously about coming home and finding Beaux trapped atop the kitchen cabinets while watching Hawthorne be devoured my an albino python…

But that is part of having an over-active imagination, too, I suppose…

Other not-so-interesting items of interest:

1. Floridians also drive slowly in the passing lane, and you must pass them in the non-passing lane;
2. Craigslisters for the "free" section are much more numerous than in PA, and it's much harder to get the things you desire;
3. The weather is GORGEOUS all the TIME!;
4. I like the beach much better than I thought I ever would...

I just wish the circumstances leading to my new life would have been not-so-dramatic... Then again, one does want a hint of color in one’s life… Til next time, my friends…

It's Official... In Other News...

Well, a lot of things are official, truth be told... Whether it be school zone speed limits (annoying), mandatory car insurance (a joke), or the fact that it's still illegal to kill morons (extremely annoying)...

I now have an apartment in Florida, of which I am now paying the electric bill, even though my ass doesn't move in for another 16 days...

Did I mention I was excited? One more "just because I can" shot of the now-becoming-infamous purple tub:


Other items that fall in the "Really Only of Interest to Me" category include:

1. an ex that thinks I'm being a dick when in fact I'm just trying to come across as coldly-detached-yet-civil,
2. a certain blue-eyed hunk-a-hunk-a burning sexy waiting for me to arrive in said southern portion of the United States (Florida, for those of you who haven't been paying attention [for SHAME!!]), and
3. an excitedly-nervous feeling deep, deep, deep down in the pit of my stomach...

Told ya... the "Really Only of Interest to Me" category...

As another side note that should be "official" in one capacity or another: I really really miss busting on fundies for being dumb asses, and the list of saved links is so goddamn long at this point, I'll have to forgo busting on some of the older stories when I finally do find the time to bust their chops, if only because the stories are older than, say, 6 months, and you've probably already heard about the sheer dumb-assedness of said stories, and thus it would be completely pointless to blog about said dumb-assedness...

Speaking of dumb asses...

Really?

Yes, really...

I'm still not sure how it happened... But I apparently spent the last 13 years of my life with a paranoid-delusional who thinks not only that I'm a dick who can't think for himself and simply lives to listen to what others have to say until I form an opinion of my own (and honestly, I refuse to turn this blog into a "Guess what the Ex Said Now" blog...), but if I don't vent here and get it all out, when I do reply to his latest email, I'll simply become the hurtful dick he thinks I am, and I so don't want to go down that road--ergo, I vent here, then email him later (not that he isn't reading this anyway, but there you are--a no-win situation...).

PURPLE TUB FOR NO REASON WHATSOEVER!!!:


Okay, okay... So it's kind of a happy thought... And after our latest paragraph, completely warranted... Yes?

Yes...

Definitely a warranted, COMPLETELY-official, happy thought...

In other news...

I still can't afford to be an alcoholic, but then again, I also can't afford cable, so...

It's official... I'm a non-alcoholic, non-cable-watching, purple-bathtub-owning, soon-to-be-southern-Florida-residing gay white male...

In other news...