i should post something. it's been 5 months.

umm...
I wanted to stay working as a social worker at an AIDS outreach but th ere were some things I just couldn't handle... so I left.
I am now nanny-ing part time and looking for... something full time. But something that hopefully won't drive me crazy or make me want to quit after 3 years.
A bajillian cities in Alabama and a good section of the south was hit by asshole storms that threw tornadoes everywhere. Last week and part of this week I had extra house guests who had no power in their house. I cooked for them a lot and they cooked AWESOME stuff for me!
Today I volunteered at a local agency helping out with whatever random thing needed done for a few hours. It was awesome. My needs for chaos, exercise and feeling helpful were met in one fell swoop (and I ate some excellent home made chocolate fudge that was brought by someone for the hundreds of volunteers).
And now, I'm looking at the facebook page of a man who has been dead almost 5 months. Every time I see his name, I want to look at the page. And every time I look at the page, I am reminded of why I stopped having friends and opening up to people. We were friends but it wasn't deep but somehow there is a hole in my heart the size of the damned grand canyon. It hurts. Being open to people HURTS. It's amazing, but sometimes the pain makes me wonder if it's worth it. It's hard to be open, it's hard to force myself to be sociable enough to make friends, and it's always complicated because I am a tangled mess of emotions and, so often, the people I deem "worthy" are, too. It's so hard just to say hi and have a conversation about random things like music some days and it's so hard to trust that something won't happen and I won't screw up or won't forget them or they won't hate me or leave me, and then... something fucking happens. It's life; it happens. But.

pre-santa letter

Once again I find myself having difficulty writing a santa letter because evything i want is ridiculous and depressing. And, once again, I am going to write a Pre-Santa Letter to see if I can get this out of my system:
Dear Santa:
I want to stop being exhausted and disillusioned, I want people to understand what I mean, I want to work somewhere where I am not covered over with enough work for 8 people, I want to stop bitching at family during holidays and I want my friend back. There is one less amazing person in my life and I want that fucking fixed. now.
I want to treat the amazing people left in my life like they are amazing, but I can't seem to do it. Please make me a magic wand or something. Lavender tea is awesome, pie is awesome and presents are awesome but they don't fix this kind of deep seeded sadness and thorough emotional exhaustion. I need a fucking Christmas miracle. Please.

seriously.

it Christmas!

I simultaneous love and hate this time of year!
It's exciting, the air is filled with the scent of cinnamon and peppermint, there's cheery music, people are nice to each other, there's lots of chocolate to be had, and there's presents!
But, peope are only nice if you don't have the thing they want, cinnamon brooms are nice until they give you an asthma attack, and all the chocolate and presents? who do you think makes and buys all that shit? elves?

So many parties, so many events, so many things to do: it's a little mind-boggling. I almost went fucking postal at work Thursday because i have an ungodly amount of work to do and was somehow supposed to clean my office, eat lunch, and get my work done in a matter of 4 hours (it's literally like 20 hours worth of work) and THEN be cheerful for visitors for 3 hours.
The office was clean enough, i managed a being friendly for three hours, I eventually ate, and the work isn't finished, but I did apparently "storm out" when everyone else was eating lunch. I don't think I stormed out. I think I saw that the one thing I wanted was taken (lunch was furnished that day), couldn't decide on anything else, decided I did't have time to waste being indecisive about lunch, said "i have bigger shit to worry about" and walked out so I could go clean my office which was absolutely filthy and should have been cleaned several days before but wasn't because I had too much work to do.
I love parties, I love seeing friendly people, i love presents and i love peppermint, but I hate all the work that goes into doing those things. I wish there was a balance.
Wheream I going with this?
I don't know. I just know I had a friend who said I don't post on here often enough so, here you go :-P

Rosie, the car who isn't quite as depressing this time

As you may have guessed, yesterday's story, comes from somewhere very personal. I have my days where I feel like a shitty broken car. To me, it doesn't really seem to matter that I want to do better because at a certain point, I'm not adequate for the task. I'm just not. For the last 3 weeks, I have been carrying around the idea that I am a shitty broken car and won't ever be anything else. I have been a very sad car. I have cried many times, especially over the last 2 days. The ends of my hair and my cheeks were soaked last night when I was writing the story about Rosie. In fact, every time I thought about writing Rosie's story, I cried. It did occur to me that if the thought of writing it made me cry, then maybe I should let it go and not write it.

I am glad I wrote it. Once it was done, I felt almost calm. Sometimes if something is bothering me, I just have to speak my mind, and I feel better. Writing the story down somehow helped me move past feeling like a shitty broken car. The tears dried up, and I went to bed. Before I went to bed, the only ending I could see that wasn't bullshit was the one I wrote. I woke up this morning with another idea that seems reasonably realistic and a fitting ending to the story. So, without further ado, Here's the alternate ending:

There once was a car named Rosie. Rosie was shiny and her speakers played beautiful music and all of her parts were perfect and well oiled. Rosie lived at car lot next to other cars, but Rosie was the shiniest and most special car there. One day a man wearing a green tie came to Rosie and washed her with bubbly soap and a soft cloth. The bubbles tickled and the cloth felt soft and warm.

A few minutes later, another man in a red hat came and the man in the green tie told him how special Rosie was. The man in the red hat opened Rosie’s door, sat in Rosie’s cushy seats, and turned the key. Rosie started right up and her engine hummed and she was happy.

Both men went away and came back. The man in the green tie told the man in the red hat that Rosie was a good car and the man in the red hat smiled. Rosie was happy. Rosie wanted to be a good car. The man in the red hat took Rosie home and then told a lady in a pink skirt and a little girl with a teddy bear what a good car Rosie was. Rosie was happy. She wanted to be a good car.

Rosie took the man in the red hat and the lady in the pink skirt and the girl with the teddy bear to get ice cream and they giggled and smiled and said how the good the ice cream was and how good Rosie was. It made Rosie Happy. Rosie wanted to be a good car.

Rosie took her family all kinds of places: the park, the school, the zoo, the library and the movies. Rosie liked taking people places they needed to go because it helped them. Rosie liked helping people and Rosie liked making people happy.

One day the man in the red hat turned Rosie’s key and she started up right away just like always. But this time, her engine didn’t hum--it sputtered. Try as she might, Rosie could not get her engine to stop sputtering. The man in the red hat was not happy and called her a lot of names. He did not call her a good car. Rosie was sad. She wanted to be a good car.

The man in the red hat took her to a man in a blue jumpsuit who said he would fix Rosie and make her a good car again and Rosie was happy. Rosie wanted to be a good car.

The man in the jumpsuit changed Rosie’s oil, and her spark plugs, and oiled all of her joints, and turned bolts, and tweaked knobs and did everything possible and Rosie was happy. She was going to be a good car again.

The man in the red hat came back and the man in the jumpsuit told him that he could not fix Rosie and that Rosie was not a good car. The man in the red hat took Rosie back to the man with the green tie and told him that Rosie was a very bad car. Rosie was sad. She wanted to be a good car.

The man in the green suit washed Rosie over and over and showed her to Men and Ladies and boys and girls and other men in jumpsuits. Rosie only ever got to go to the stop sign and back. No one wanted Rosie to take them to school or the zoo or to get ice cream. They all said Rosie was not a good car. Rosie was very sad. Rosie wanted to take people places and make them happy. She wanted to be a good car.

One day a man with a white hat and grease on his clothes came and looked at Rosie. He smiled when he saw her and when the man in the green tie told him how special Rosie was. He sat in Rosie’s seat and she started up right away just like always. Her engine still sputtered and she was sad. But the man in the white hat smiled. He told the man in the green tie that he would like to have a car like Rosie and that he was going to make her a good car again. Rosie was happy. She wanted to be a good car.

The man in the white hat took her home and did all the same things that the men in jumpsuits had. The man turned the key and Rosie started right up like always, but her engine still sputtered and she was sad. The man smiled and went to get new tools and new parts and said that he would have to fix Rosie’s engine and then she would be a good car. Rosie was happy. She wanted to be a good car.

The man opened up Rosie’s engine and then stared wide eyed and dropped his wrench. He said that Rosie was very different and very special but he could not fix her. The man put Rosie back together, sat down in her cushy seat and turned the key. He drove Rosie to another man with black pants and grease on his face who said he could fix her. The man in the black pants took her apart and cleaned every piece and tweaked every knob and did more than any of the men in jumpsuits or the man in the white hat had done. He smiled and said that Rosie should be fixed now and Rosie was happy. He turned the key and Rosie’s engine sputtered. Rosie was sad. Rosie wanted to be a good car.

The man in the white hat sat back in Rosie and turned the key and started back home. On the way home, Rosie’s engine sputtered. it sputtered and sputtered and sputtered until it stopped. Rosie stopped in the middle of the road. The man in the white hat turned Rosie’s key and she did not start.

Rosie was sad. Rosie wanted to be a good car and she was not. Rosie was tired of her sputtering engine and she was tired of people saying she was a bad car and she was tired of not getting to help people or make them happy.

The man in the white hat tried and tried to get Rosie to start but she would not. The man in the white hat pushed Rosie over to the side of the road. Then he got out his tools and told Rosie she was a good car and did everything he knew how but Rosie would not start.

When it got dark, the man in the white hat left Rosie. Rosie was lonely, but at least her engine was not sputtering. A long time after it got dark, a man in torn clothes came up to Rosie. He was shivering and his eyes were droopy and he walked with a limp. The man made Rosie's door open, and then laid down on Rosie's cushy seats. The man stopped shivering and fell deep asleep and smiled at his dreams. Rosie was happy. She was not a good car but she was a good place to rest and she had helped the man sleep. Rosie liked helping people and making them happy. Rosie was very happy.

Rosie, The car that really tried but....

There once was a car named Rosie. Rosie was shiny and her speakers played beautiful music and all of her parts were perfect and well oiled. Rosie lived at car lot next to other cars, but Rosie was the shiniest and most special car there. One day a man wearing a green tie came to Rosie and washed her with bubbly soap and a soft cloth. The bubbles tickled and the cloth felt soft and warm.

A few minutes later, another man in a red hat came and the man in the green tie told him how special Rosie was. The man in the red hat opened Rosie’s door, sat in Rosie’s cushy seats, and turned the key. Rosie started right up and her engine hummed and she was happy.

Both men went away and came back. The man in the green tie told the man in the red hat that Rosie was a good car and the man in the red hat smiled. Rosie was happy. Rosie wanted to be a good car. The man in the red hat took Rosie home and then told a lady in a pink skirt and a little girl with a teddy bear what a good car Rosie was. Rosie was happy. She wanted to be a good car.

Rosie took the man in the red hat and the lady in the pink skirt and the girl with the teddy bear to get ice cream and they giggled and smiled and said how the good the ice cream was and how good Rosie was. It made Rosie Happy. Rosie wanted to be a good car.

Rosie took her family all kinds of places: the park, the school, the zoo, the library and the movies. Rosie liked taking people places they needed to go because it helped them. Rosie liked helping people and Rosie liked making people happy.

One day the man in the red hat turned Rosie’s key and she started up right away just like always. But this time, her engine didn’t hum--it sputtered. Try as she might, Rosie could not get her engine to stop sputtering. The man in the red hat was not happy and called her a lot of names. He did not call her a good car. Rosie was sad. She wanted to be a good car.

The man in the red hat took her to a man in a blue jumpsuit who said he would fix Rosie and make her a good car again and Rosie was happy. Rosie wanted to be a good car.

The man in the jumpsuit changed Rosie’s oil, and her spark plugs, and oiled all of her joints, and turned bolts, and tweaked knobs and did everything possible and Rosie was happy. She was going to be a good car again.

The man in the red hat came back and the man in the jumpsuit told him that he could not fix Rosie and that Rosie was not a good car. The man in the red hat took Rosie back to the man with the green tie and told him that Rosie was a very bad car. Rosie was sad. She wanted to be a good car.

The man in the green suit washed Rosie over and over and showed her to Men and Ladies and boys and girls and other men in jumpsuits. Rosie only ever got to go to the stop sign and back. No one wanted Rosie to take them to school or the zoo or to get ice cream. They all said Rosie was not a good car. Rosie was very sad. Rosie wanted to take people places and make them happy. She wanted to be a good car.

One day a man with a white hat and grease on his clothes came and looked at Rosie. He smiled when he saw her and when the man in the green tie told him how special Rosie was. He sat in Rosie’s seat and she started up right away just like always. Her engine still sputtered and she was sad. But the man in the white hat smiled. He told the man in the green tie that he would like to have a car like Rosie and that he was going to make her a good car again. Rosie was happy. She wanted to be a good car.

The man in the white hat took her home and did all the same things that the men in jumpsuits had. The man turned the key and Rosie started right up like always, but her engine still sputtered and she was sad. The man smiled and went to get new tools and new parts and said that he would have to fix Rosie’s engine and then she would be a good car. Rosie was happy. She wanted to be a good car.

The man opened up Rosie’s engine and then stared wide eyed and dropped his wrench. He said that Rosie was very different and very special but he could not fix her. The man put Rosie back together, sat down in her cushy seat and turned the key. He drove Rosie to another man with black pants and grease on his face who said he could fix her. The man in the black pants took her apart and cleaned every piece and tweaked every knob and did more than any of the men in jumpsuits or the man in the white hat had done. He smiled and said that Rosie should be fixed now and Rosie was happy. He turned the key and Rosie’s engine sputtered. Rosie was sad. Rosie wanted to be a good car.

The man in the white hat sat back in Rosie and turned the key and started back home. On the way home, Rosie’s engine sputtered. it sputtered and sputtered and sputtered until it stopped. Rosie stopped still in the middle of the train tracks. There was a loud horn followed by the clickety-clack of the train. The man in the white hat turned Rosie’s key and she did not start.

Rosie was sad. Rosie wanted to be a good car and she was not. Rosie was tired of her sputtering engine and she was tired of people saying she was a bad car and she was tired of not getting to help people or make them happy.

The man in the white hat tried and tried to get Rosie to start but she would not. The man in the white hat ran away from Rosie because he did not want to get hurt. The train honked and honked and honked and Rosie would not move. Rosie was not a good car but as the train barreled down on her and broke her into hundreds of pieces, she hoped she could at least be good scrap metal.