My scary Halloween
This photo has nothing to do with anything, other than that it’s cool. And given that Lady L and I calculated that we’ve dumped about $5,000 into booze and brie at DaDa in the past 10 months, it’s only necessary that I share the decor of the restaurant that we (should) have part ownership in!
I leave for Mexico on Monday. (Yes!) Doing laundry right now. Stayed up late at a Halloween party, so I woke up late. Ah, luxurious AND glorious!
Yesterday was a funny day. My driver’s license got suspended because I didn’t pay a $60 fine. So I had to pay a $150 fine BECAUSE I didn’t pay that fine. Since, you know, I sort of need identification to travel!
I had driven past the Den of Iniquity to the courthouse. As usual, I gave it my double-barreled-salute. Then I got to the courthouse and realized I forgot my fucking wallet. Grr.
I went back to the office, and once again headed past the Den of Iniquity to the courthouse.
I did my double-barreled-salute when … whoops … I noticed my two least-favorite people out on the steps. I think one of them saw my salute and recognized my dented-up car. But I didn’t care. Fuck them, indeed!
Just to see the leader — in the same stupid blue shit/black pants uniform that he wears seven days a week — made me ill. He was, in true form, ranting and flailing his arms and mind-fucking and aurally raping his victim.
God, I don’t miss those days.
I think the other idiot was the one who sent me 3,000-word manifestos every Tuesday on exactly why I suck as a human being. And although I could have matched him word-for-word on any given day, I refrained from answering because I knew that NOT engaging him in dialogue pissed him off more.
Grr, fuck you idiots. FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU!!!
I did have a point here.
As I watched some episodes of “Medium” and “Paranormal State” on the DVR this afternoon, I remembered that what we focus on, is what we can’t get rid of.
DailyOM.com said it best: “Giving all of our attention to the unwanted aspects of our lives allows what we resist to persist.”
And hello, UEOEH!
I felt bad for her today. She wanted to go to the Farmer’s Market that is literally a block and a half away.
I had just awakened and had barely had a sip of coffee. She asked me to go. I said no. (I say no to everything in hopes that she will do it herself.)
And true to form, she stayed in the house and missed out.
She said she was afraid to walk by herself because she’s feeling funny and woozy. So I told her to drive — parking is free for market-goers. And she said she’s afraid “about the car.”
I can’t figure that one out. I’ve paid it up. I’ve insured it. I own it. What’s the problem here? She couldn’t answer, other than that she’s “afraid of everything.”
This has been my eternal problem here. I realized many years ago that her problems were too big for me. I can point her toward resources but I can’t make her better.
And I don’t know how to motivate her to take care of things. I can threaten her all I want with eviction and being dropped off at a women’s shelter. But then she worries about what will happen to her, and it paralyzes her, instead of saying hey — maybe I need to follow my little action plan to KEEP me from the streets.
Alas, the point here is that she worries about everything. And does nothing. I don’t worry that much anymore. I probably SHOULD. But meh.
If hanging around with Lady L has taught me anything, it’s that dreaming big means getting bigger things than you have. So I spend a lot of time dreaming that I should spend, oh, working. But it feels good to get out of the here-and-now by looking straight past it and on to the next thing.
Speaking of life being way too short…
There was a woman’s body found in a car at our favorite pizzeria this week — we were drinking there the same day the body was discovered. *shudder* Of course, all my friends started inquiring about the UEOEH’s whereabouts. 😉
Well, I have two parties left this weekend. And a photo shoot. And a shitpile of work. And packing. And trying to catch up with people before I shut my phone off till the 9th.
I really need this escape, but I need for it TO BE an escape. And I am not gonna be that lucky. I am also not confident that I’m not going to shove someone’s Bumpits up their butthole. But that’s a story for another day. …