A Daily Reminder That Everything is Amazing

Everything is amazing and nobody's happy – Louis C.K.

Incomplete Fiction

And there she sat, alone in her Toyota. She watched the front door kick open and two happy people spill out onto the porch. Not any two people, but the two people she chalked up to ruining her life. On one side was this beautiful raven haired woman with the most piercing blue eyes she had ever seen and next to her stood this stupid bitch who did nothing wrong… Except end the sexual whirlwind she had been on for the past six months.

Mona had been married. To a man. It was the most beautiful wedding that even she could envision. Gorgeous bouquets even more gorgeous bridesmaids and her… A stunningly beautiful bride. A long white dress with a veil that only slightly obscured her deep chocolate brown eyes. As she held her new husband’s hand in the dance floor of the reception she should have known she was making the worst decision of her life when she couldn’t keep her wandering eye off the bartender.

Immediately following the first dance she disappeared for what seemed like an eternity to “freshen up,” or so she told people… But instead of freshening up she was actually very much getting down with the blue eyed beauty from behind the bar. Chelsea. Even her name rolled sweetly off Mona’s tongue as she panted it in the supply room of the reception hall.

Something about Chelsea called to her. The eyes. The dimples. The hair pulled up exposed her thin, gorgeous neck. It started with a simple hello… But that hello led to hundreds of kisses and just as many encounters. Six months they fucked in private. She snuck away from her often traveling husband and into the arms of this woman. This person. The only person that she ever met that could so fully satisfy her sexually and emotionally.

The first time, in the supply closet was everything she had pictured her wedding night sex to be except it wasn’t with the groom. She leaned against a stack of boxes, grinding into Chelsea’s firm body. Kissing her soft, sweet lips and sucking ever so gently on her neck. It wasn’t til Chelsea took the lead that Mona felt the surge of ecstasy shooting through her body.

With one expertly executed move, Chelsea’s hand was under Mona’s dress. With both authority and passion, she gripped inside Mona’s thigh, her bright eyes piercing into Mona. The look itself was the look of someone who knew what they were doing and wanted to show someone the way. Seconds later, Chelsea plunged her fingers deep inside Mona, causing her to cry out in a fit of passion she had never experienced this far in her life. She braced herself as Chelsea continued to fuck her, kissing her with equal fervor.

When it was over, Mona knew she had to tell her husband. She had to come clean that she had been unfaithful. As she walked back into the reception hall, her dress, hair and emotions all slightly askew, she knew she couldn’t tell him. Not then, not there, not like this. With a deep sigh, Mona brushed the hair off her face and smiled as her overbearing mother came rushing over. With her still-thick Russian accent, she pored over her only child. Where had she been? Why was she so flushed? Did she see what her father’s girlfriend was wearing, that hussy.

Mona’s head was spinning from the inside out. She could feel herself falling to the floor but couldn’t stop. She hit the ground with a solid thud and everyone ran to her side. What had happened. That must explain why she was so flushed, they say amongst themselves as she slowly comes to. As she regains consciousness she hopes she will be met with the same blue eyes that had put her into this frenzy but instead her eyes lock with a sympathetic pair of family brown eyes. Her husband. Her sweetheart. Her supposed one true love. She grimaced. Not from the pain but from the reality of her actions. She had ruined not only her life but his as well.

Mona started to sob, deep guttural sobs. Tears streamed down her face, smearing and ruining her perfect make up. It was the perfect poem to a heart breaking.

Thinking she could just be okay with her husband, Mona went on her honeymoon and had the same bored, predictable sex she had come to expect and dread from her husband. He was a good man and a good love, but something wasn’t there for her. Something fulfilling lacked every time he kissed her. She tolerated him, trying not to become too put off by him. He had done nothing wrong. It was her whose eye has wandered. Her who luster for someone else. Her who had fucked up her perfect little life by fucking some bartender.

When her cell phone dinged three days into her honeymoon she could all but stifle a smile when she saw it was Chelsea who had messaged her. When will you be back? I need to see you again. I want you. Oh how I want you. Mona could feel her heart racing and her body weakening. She couldn’t control this feeling. She didn’t want to.

The honeymoon ended and life returned to normal. Or, more precisely, anything but. Mona’s husband went off on a work trip and she immediately phoned Chelsea who was more than willing to come over and attend to Mona’s needs.

They fucked for hours and all over the loft that Mona and her husband had bought with help from Mona’s parents. They had finally approved of one. Of her lovers. He was a stand up guy with a heart and a conscience. He had a great job and loved Mona indiscriminately. He was, in all senses of the word, the perfect man. But it wasn’t a man she wanted. Not now, not ever again. She had been to the puppet show and seen the strings. She had seen what else was out there and was insatiable.

Mona ushered Chelsea out the door in the nick of time. Her husband was due back any moment. But even with her out of site, Chelsea was hardly out of Mona’s mind, her husband could tell. The distant look in her eye, the constant checking of her phone. She was in another world in her head and in his arms.

After several months, Mona finally came clean. Her husband expected as much. He just had no idea it was with another woman. A woman, under any other circumstance, he would have found attractive. When he saw a picture of the offender, to him her eyes were icy, her hair was dark and devilish. Everything that Mona longed for in Chelsea her husband cringed at. He tried, with all his power not to cry. All he could do, though, was wait for Mona to leave the room before he broke down. He threw a framed picture of them across the room and it shattered on the mantel. Pieces cracked and fell down to the floor where his heart lay, exposed and bare. Broken.

Even after wronging the absolute love of her life, Mona couldn’t stay away from Chelsea. She sought solace between Chelsea’s legs and was turned out nightly by her captivating beauty and prowess in bed.

They continued this way for months. Mona never even took a moment to mourn the end of her marriage. The end of the white picket fence, the end of being accepted by her parents, her friends and even society. All she could think about was fucking Chelsea… Until that fateful day when Chelsea’s wife walked back into their lives.

Chelsea dumped Mona so fast her head spun. What had happened? Hadn’t they been happy? She left her husband for Chelsea… Now here they were together on Chelsea’s front porch. Mona watched from the car as Chelsea and her wife walked hand in hand down the stairs, stopping only briefly to kiss. Mona’s stomach turned as the tears welled up in her eyes. Fuck her. Fuck that bitch, she thought. Chelsea wasn’t beautiful, neither inside nor out. Her eyes were a faded blue and her hair was limp. But even when she tried t tell herself that, seeing Chelsea from across the street brought back all those feelings, everything she wanted to hate… She couldn’t.

Mona gripped the steering wheel hard. Her knuckles whitened. As she flipped on the radio, smooth jazz poured through the speakers. She rocked slowly, and just ever so slightly to the beat. Her eyes daring between the interior of her Corolla and the women across the street. They kissed again as they got in the car. Chelsea, always chivalrous, helped her wife with her door before getting in. She turned on the engine and maneuvered out of the driveway.

White knuckled with fury tearing through her eyes, Mona slammed on the gas and barreled her car towards them. Fuck these happy bitches and their happily ever after. She went flying across the street but lost control of her car. It spun wildly before coming to rest in the brick wall in their front yard.

The air bag blew with a bang and a hiss. Mona’s face slammed into it full force, knocking the wind from her. She could feel nothing but pain shooting through her body as the numbness set in. Her breathing was shallow and her eyes were closing. All she could see we’re those beautiful blue eyes staring down at her as she lay dying. I love you, she wanted to say. I love you.

My Spirit Animal Is Charlie Brown – The Lovable Loser Complex

There are certain characters we all know – and, dare I say, love – that are losers. Lovable losers. Charlie Brown springs to mind. If ever a character were to be my token it would most likely be him…


Good ol’ Chuck Brown is a lovable loser. His life is full of good griefs and constant feelings of inferiority. Hello. Nail hit right on the head.

But there’s a lot of miserable characters out there I see myself in. Squidward, from Spongebob, for two.


From what I know he’s a miserable squid who dislikes everyone. Soooo me.

But people love these characters. Why? Because they relate to them. Yea, sure, everyone prefers to talk about sunshine, rainbows and kittens (lol, kittens) but I think i have embraced my inner storm cloud. I proudly wear my Grumpy Care Bear stare.


Everyone wants an escape from who they are. Proof they are not the asshole they seem to be, but hey… why not embrace the asshole and be OK with being that jerk? If I remember correctly, Charlie Brown is surrounded by his friends at the end of Charlie Brown Christmas, even after he got a crappy Christmas tree, because they were his real friends. Even though he’s a grumbler and a complainer he’s still a good person.

Fake it til you make it, sure. But sometimes you just need to call it like you see it. Some people suck. Some things aren’t fun. Sometimes complaining is good for the heart. There’s a negative to every positive, that’s just how life works. Every thorn has roses, but every rose also has thorns.

Not everyone gets to be an astronaut when they grow up. Someone people have to mop up the adult theatre. Them’s the breaks.

But there’s a difference between losers and lovable losers. We all love Charlie Brown. He wouldn’t be so iconic if he didn’t have at least a glimmer of sweetness to him.

Everything has cracks. That’s how the light gets in.


Words for a Thursday…

Sometimes life is hard. Sometimes life is easy. Sometimes we need a few inspirational words on a pretty JPEG to help us remember life isn’t so bad after all. We’re our own worst enemies.













Torture Thy Name is Myself

I like the way it hurts.

But I don’t, really. I hate the pain, constant as it may be… Like a second skin. An exoskeleton, even, of hurt and damage.

I’d like to go a day without being inundated with ANTs. Automatic negative thoughts. Things that fuck with my psyche. When I know how I’m supposed to feel and even know what I feel there’s still something there stopping me. Making me think these things I don’t want to think about. Hurtin me. Making me worry. Making me sad.

I don’t want to be sad. I’m tired of being tired of being sad.

I’m over you. I’m not. I’m over you. Am I not? I know I am but I’m not. Or am I? If I was then I wouldn’t care, would I? Nothing would be an issue. Shouldn’t care where, when or how you live your life. But I allow it to consume me because I never got to. I was ok until I had a taste of your evil spell now I can’t shake free.

The following lyrics seem to resonate with me right now…

You tell all the boys “No”
Makes you feel good, yeah.
I know you’re out of my league
But that won’t scare me away, oh, no

You’ve carried on so long,
You couldn’t stop if you tried it.
You’ve built your wall so high
That no one could climb it,
But I’m gonna try.

Would you let me see beneath your beautiful?
Would you let me see beneath your perfect?
Take it off now, girl, take it off now, girl
I wanna see inside
Would you let me see beneath your beautiful tonight?

In other news I’m going through another bout of tattoo therapy. Finished the ribs… Now gonna fix up the fixer upper and planning the next one. I think I was in just a dark a place when I got a bunch of tattoos before. Good or bad, they help.

I’d rather feel pain than nothing at all.

If I were more inspired I would have more to say, but instead I’m without words to summarize all the stupid hang ups in my head.

Even if I work through everything am I going to be able to change recurring behaviors that I haven’t been able to shake? I’m facing a major obstacle soon and need to grow the fuck up when it comes to it. I only get so many chances in life and I can’t keep losing my shit.

I know certain people themselves are not real triggers but they trigger things in me that need to be addressed… And after addressed… Suppressed or handled somehow. I know exactly what it is. And I do it every time but fuck.


I have started phasing people out of my social life, knowing if they’re a part of things I will just keep spiraling. The button pushers, the bitches, the fake friends. Who needs them? I can push my own buttons, thank you very much.

Dickbags and Assbags: The World of Fake Friendships, Part 1 (a rant)

Deep. What is deep? And what constitutes deep when it comes to friendships.

Don’t be that guy. We all have that one friend… or friends… that are self-serving assholes. Why call them friends then? Good question. Don’t.

First order of business in a post about friendships is to clarify one thing. In speaking of besties a few entries ago I omitted two people – Mathenylicious (the Texas BFF) and Emily! (the DC BFF)… So, apologies. 😉

Now that that’s sorted, lets get back to business. The order of friends vs acquaintances. A few months back, I had a conversation with Hot Mandy about friends vs acquaintances. I think we’re all a little too quick to regard people as “friends” – not everyone is your friend.

Not everyone is a princess. Someone has to clap when they arrive.

I got all fast and loose with my talking to people about my shit and realize I need to bring it closer to my heart if I ever want to make it out of things unscathed.

There are these people though… the toxic people… that are just terrible assholes. The ones who make everything about themselves. The ones that are so fake you can see it miles away.

It takes a special kind of dickbag to transform something into a conversation about them that was never meant to be in the first place. Yea, you love yourself. Great. But you come across as a self serving piece of shit. Nobody cares about you or your life. No one cares when you suddenly pretend to have found God for the sake of making your stupid ass sound more prophetic. #blessed #ingodshands You know what? Fuck you. You’re stupid. You’re pretentious.

These people are often in tandem with the fake friends. The assbags that don’t really care. They ask how you are but don’t care to listen to the answer. They just like laughing at your issues. They preface fake condolences with the saccharine sentiment “sorry, friend” but are you really? You know what I don’t need to listen to you either. You’re out for you.

There’s the button pushers who mention things and say all the wrong things to exacerbate situations. To all of you, shut up. I’ll keep to myself. I guess that’s why you need to pat my head after a social day cuz I “did good in there” – no. I’m an introvert you stupid sonnovabitch. I don’t live for or thrive in GROSSLY social situations.


Inflection over Eggplant

I just want to be inspired. I’ve been saying this for what seems like forever now. Theoretically it is bound to happen at some point… at least I’d like to hope so. Presently, though, I’m writing this blog based on a random quote I pulled off the internet.

“Don’t judge someone just because they sin differently than you…”

Maybe this quote, if I let it sink in, will give me the clarity I have been desiring.

We’re all different versions of the same form. But oftentimes the differences outweigh the similarities. Yes, we’re all living, breathing entities, but what sets us apart is what drives us. What we desire.How we live. How we die.

Nobody’s perfect and nothing is easy, so why is it the only one preventing happiness our own self? Why do we get in our own way and live a life of comparison?

Everyone is fighting something. Everyone loves something. Everyone has lost something. We all have problems that are all our own. My lowest low may be nothing like yours – but since it’s mine, I have to own it.

Maybe you’ve already had your dark days and come out stronger in the end. Maybe we’re both broken at the same time. But I need to accept we’re all different. Life ebbs and flows for people at different times. Today you may be on top of the world and tomorrow it may be a different story. Who is to say what is fair? Who is to say who is right? Who am i to judge you if you sin differently than I do?

Guilty pleasure? I’ve got a few. Vices? i have those too. I’m sure you to, too.

We’re not the same, no matter how similar we may appear. We’re all broken in some way. Our weaknesses shine through the cracks like a medal of honor… or a badge of disgrace. Proof we’ve been hurt. Prof we’ve truly lived. Proof, perhaps, better days lie ahead of us.

10 Sentences


You Don’t Destroy People You Love…

10+1 inspirational quotes to get the day underway…


Just Want to Be Happy…

So every few months I am due for a breakthrough. Or a breakdown. One of the two…. but regardless, something breaks and needs fixing. Much like my Batmobile needs constant maintenance  so does my life.

Oh life.

Right now, things are slowly trudging along. The continuation to what started out as a shitty, shitty year. “I have had my share of sand kicked in my face and I’ve come through…” So far.

To rehash my life’s misery, I’m still unemployed (but temping) and still trying to maintain an air of happiness, but it’s hard to do with a permanent scowl.

I’d have to say things the only consistency in my life is my own sadness. If I didn’t have that, what would keep me warm on the cold winter nights. Yes ma’ams and sirs, nothing quite like deep seeded depression to be the perpetual +1.

I’m not sad, per se. I’d just say something is broken. There’s a switch in my head I can’t flip. Years of therapy have made me aware of this switch but I haven’t come far enough in my own healing to figure out how to switch it off.

Automatic negative thoughts, worry. Plus I don’t like a lot of things. Maybe I’m just coming more comfortable in my own skin. Unapologetically shooting down plans I know I won’t like. It makes me come off as a curmudgeon, introvert and, probably, a hater… But why am I going to do something I know will make me miserable?

I also realize that while talking to people about my issues is healthy it is a very personal thing… and instead of polling the masses, I need to start bringing it back within myself. Some people don’t give good advice. Someone people don’t care. Some people just like to watch the world burn.

There are a few people in my arsenal I hold near and dear to my “heart” – I use the term loosely, since it is yet to be scientifically proven I have one. (har har)…

I’d say the 3 caballeros in my life are Kmoy (obvs), Diane (duh) and Muffs – honorable mention to Harlow. He and I don’t really talk about feelings, but I know he’s there. Each brings a unique perspective to my problem and doesn’t purposely say the things they know will send me into a spiral of misery. They say you are most like the 5 people you spend the most time with and I’m glad to be like the folks I mentioned above. 5th place goes to Bruce and Ellie, since I’m an introvert and love to be at home with my cats.

I am not slighting any other friends in my life. I appreciate and adore you all in your own ways… But there are some people who have said all the wrong things to me, cuz I have let them. I have encouraged it. I need to start taking accountability for my own feelings and actions.

I need to unstick myself. I need to be able to be around people that make me feel unhappy. I need to face down the trigger and rise above it. I need to be OK with whatever it is in my head that makes me want to cry, or bitch or complain and come out a better person on the end.

I’m pretty easy-going, I’d like to think, but when threatened I can and will become a mega-bitch. It’s a defense mechanism. I will be mean. I will make digs and I won’t feel bad. And that is terrible.

I wish I could get out of my own way and out of my own head and just be okay with people and life. I’m jealous of people who can go through life and just be smooth sailing and cool with everything. When nothing bothers them, or seems to.

I just want to be happy. I just want the storm cloud that surrounds me to rise up and leave. I want bright eyes and clarity. I want to not care about every little thing and not worry about every damn situation. I want my feelings to get out of the way and I want the worry to subside. I want to be happy. For once.

Also, a job would be nice.

Frustration: Thy Name is Life

Well, I thought January was a bum month, but when it spilled into February… well shit just ain’t fair.

We all know about my original drama from January: bitches and coke heads – good. Done and done.

Since then I have lost my job, hospitalized Sammy and basically got grim news about his furry future. Sad. The lay off happened on February 1st, despite getting a heads up on January 31. With that 24 hours notice I was able to contact everyone I knew with possible connections and thanks to a few fine folks I secured a temp job starting on the following Monday. Great.

Here I am a week and a half later and the phone hasn’t rung. No one is calling me for interviews. If history is any indicator, this shit is going to take forever… but I don’t have forever. I don’t like to be idle when it comes to work. So as I walked across the WB lot to get lunch, my head and heart heavy with thoughts of Sammy it also hit me that this temp job is just that – temp. I don’t know what I’m going to do next. I don’t have anything lined up. I’m silently panicking from the inside out and it is killing me. Everything in my life has gone off track at the same time. This may be good, but right now it’s bad.

I have complaints and complaints about everything but no one wants to hear them and dammit I don’t need to repeat myself.

It’s just hard to not cry when you are thisclose to losing (or having lost) everything that was important in your life. Okay, maybe not everything, but somethings. My last job was the dream job – what I wanted to be, doing what I wanted to do. I thought I’d grow with the company and move up and move on, but no… And now Sammy, my beloved furry gentleman. I got him during hard times in 2004. I was out of work then too. It’s as if my livelihood came with him and is being taken if/when he goes.

How terrible it is to love something death can touch.

I don’t think I can handle any more bad news right now. I just need a little bit of sunlight alot of hugs and a bit of understanding that people know I’m knee deep in Shit Creek right now… but I’m trying. I’m trying…

I need a break in all senses of the word, cause while I put up a strong face I really am just hanging on at my wit’s end right now.

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