Five Haikus

How I miss your smile
and the joy it used to give
me when I saw it

The curve of your lips
The lines around your lush mouth
made me crave your kiss

The warmth of your eyes
touched me somewhere deep inside
A place meant for you

A place where my soul
at this moment,  cries for you
Oh I miss your smile

I loathe this silence
this suffocating silence
between us my love

pre and post war

My, how I have neglected this blog.    Tsk tsk.  Such a shame.

Folks,  I've been going through some shit.  Some pretty heavy, emotional shit and my life has been turned on it's ear.   I'm working my way through it and while I won't come out the other side smelling very fresh,  I hope to eventually be a better,  stronger person for it.  However,  I've done some damage and the carnage ain't over yet I'm afraid.

Bear with me.  I'm trying.

And yes...I'll be back,  just as foul mouthed as ever.

*smooches*

Half Assed

I have had an epiphany.  Or rather a revelation.  An ugly one, at that.  I suppose on some level I have always known it but it wasn't until recently that I was finally able to admit it to myself.

I am a guilty of half-assery.  My entire life I have done nearly everything half-assed, bare minimum, and dripping with mediocrity.  I've done only what I need to do to get by and very little more.  Minimum effort for equally minimum results.  Rarely have I gone above and beyond unless it was for my own benefit, and even then I was likely to not put my at all into it, thereby shortchanging myself.   This is how I live.  

Fucking ridiculous, isn't it?

Now, some of you reading this - those that know and love me - might be tempted to argue and to cite examples.  While I appreciate that, I ask you not to.   Believe me, I am well aware of my accomplishments and they are few and far in between.  Looking back I could have done SO much more with my life and those few accomplishments I have managed could have been stellar instead of just "pretty good". 

Let me cite my own examples....

High school.   Barely graduated.  I skated by because I was too caught up in boys, clothes, bands and fun.   I was a lazy little bitch.   (now I'm a lazy big bitch).   I had the smarts and the time, I just didn't utilize them.  My teachers even told me they knew I could have done so much better and they hoped I would smarten up and prove them right.   I'm sorry to say I haven't.  College wasn't even on my mind then because I figured I'd end up in L. A. trying to become an actress.  No shit....I really thought that was my calling.

So that leads me to my acting dreams....what did I ever do about it?  Not a blessed thing!   I went on one or two auditions, both of which required me to sing as part of it and I was terrified.  Absolutely terrified.  I managed to squeak out some lines on the first one but was too quiet for anyone further than two feet from me to hear.   That would have made it difficult for the theater goers to hear me, eh?   The second audition, a few years later, I walked out of before they ever even called me.  I was out-gunned and I knew it.   I never went on another audition after that.  I talked a LOT about wanting to act - movies, TV, theater....but never made a move.   Even as recent as a year and a half ago, I read over a script for a production of....oh hell, I can't even remember what it was, but I made excuses not to go. 

Jobs.....every job I've ever had has been done half-assed.  Sure, I was fun to work with and on occasion I'd turn out a good product or finish a task on time and properly.   But I called out sick a lot, and was often easily distracted.   I did a good job overall, and here and there went above and beyond but I could have been better more often.  I could have been a star employee because I HAVE that potential....I just never bothered.   I told myself it was because it wasn't what I was meant to do, that I was unhappy and couldn't muster the energy to make the extra effort.  Bollocks. 

Friends......I don't always give as much as I get.  I try to, but sometimes I retreat into myself and don't pay close enough attention to those around me.  I am guilty of being completely self-absorbed and selfish.   True, if push comes to shove I'd like to think I'd be there if someone really needed me, but I should have been there ALL the time, or at least most of it.  I lose touch with people because I am wrapped up in my own little world.  Sure, it's understandable if I'm working full time, raising a kid and going to school all the while volunteering my time at the local homeless shelter....but I'm not.  Not right now.    Not sure I've ever been in that position so really, was there ever even an excuse?  Nope.

My child.....I'm not the mother I want to be....the mother I should be.   Don't get me wrong.  I love my child with a love that is fathomless, bottomless and all-encompassing.  No one will ever love that child more than I do.   And I tell him constantly, I hug him and smother him with kisses.   But is that enough?   I started off the year volunteering at his school but fell off when my health was sketchy.   I've long since gotten past that issue but haven't gone back.   I'm not sure I play with him enough, or read to him enough.  I feel like I could be doing so much more for him and with him but I fall short because I'm lazy, distracted or stressed.   Is that an excuse?  No.  That child deserves the best!  I have been given this awesome opportunity and responsibility to shape the life of this beautiful little boy and I feel as if I am squandering it.  Don't I owe it to him, as well as to myself to set the best possible example for him?   By BEING the best example?

My health.  Seriously, this one is a no-brainer.  Why do I continue to whine and complain about my weight, my stiff joints and various aches and pains rather than do anything about them?  When I do finally make an attempt, it is a sad one and the moment an opportunity to cease and desist all efforts to better my physical self presents itself, I'm all over like white on rice?

I am being crushed under the weight of the excuses I've used my entire life.  I can't breathe anymore.   I've become the Anti-Amy. I am my own worst advocate and my own Enemy Number #1.  What the FUCK IS THAT ALL ABOUT???

Why??? I don't understand it.  What is the magic formula?  Is there one?  I can't seem to make a decision to turn things around and stick to it.   I know I'm the only one holding me back, but why do I hold myself back?   Where is the mental block?   How fucking hard can it be for me to do the simplest of things in order to be the best Me I can be? 

- Eat right.
- Exercise regularly.
- Spend more quality time with my son.
- Relentlessly pursue job opportunities
- Be equally relentless about going back to school....apply for grants, scholarships (even if you don't think you have a snowcones chance in a Virginia summer sun of getting one), student loans and REGISTER!
- Reach out to friends and family more, make the connections, repair the connections and KEEP them

I don't need to live a life of extravagence.  I don't need to have a high paying job, or be on the move 24/7.   But the bare minimum ( and I at the very bottom of the barrell when it comes to doing what I should) isn't good enough.

I have enormous potential.  I know I do.  I have always known this.   But I've been wasting it, frittering it away because it seemed easier to just slide by.  Easier, eh?  Umm...I'm realizing now that taking the easy, minimum effort road has only led me to this point.   And this point is this:  I'm overweight, unemployed, unedcuated, prone to falling back into self-destructive behavior to deal with my stress (over-eating and smoking), and losing touch with friends and family.   There is more, but I'd rather not discuss it here.

I've realized I'm not doing anyone else any favors by short changing myself.   I'm 42 years old.  When am I going to cut the shit already?   Isn't it time I grabbed this bitch by the hair (my life), slapped it around a little and made it do what I want?  Isn't NOW the time to ensure the most quality life I can live and thereby ensuring my son gets the best of me, my friends and family get the best of me - fuck, the WORLD gets the best of me?   Maybe I can touch some lives in a small way.  Why not?  I want my son to see me give it my all, even if I never do anything more than go to school, graduate with top marks, get a good job, kick ass at it, turn my health around and be a fitness rock star and enjoy life with a serious gusto.   I want him to live his life to it's fullest, to his greatest potential....how will he ever learn if I don't do the same????

I swear I'll be back

No, really...I will.  I WILL be blogging very soon.  Maybe even as soon as tomorrow.  I've got a million ideas swirling around in my squash.  I just have to fuster the mocus to narrow it down.....heh.  See what I did there?  I got my mords wixed.  Heh.  Yeah, I'm definitely heading for the nuthatch at this rate.  Shit.

Peace, yo.

Lessons in Patience...and Cake Making

It's an ugly sumbitch, ain't it?

Having children requires a certain amount of patience.  Duh.  However, I have never been known for mine.  Admittedly, I have mellowed some over the years but I am still quick to judge, demand or snap.  Not all the time.  It depends.  (on how much liquor I've consumed).   I had hoped, as my son grew in my belly, that I would acquire the necessary patience to raise him right and not turn into one of those high-strung, screechy harpie moms who constantly harangue and holler at their children.   I am happy to report that I have not.  Not completely, anyway.  

Yesterday my teetering patience was greatly tested when my sweet, excited 6 year old son assisted me in making a cake.  My birthday cake.  From scratch, frosting and all.  If ever I had needed a valium and a bottle of Absolut in my life, that was the moment!!!  Naturally, he wanted to do everything himself!  Imagine his small, unsteady hands trying to level out the flour in the measuring cup.  Yeah, I know.  Picture that.  Like a fucking blizzard in here!   Then trying to dump the flour into the mixing bowl.  Oh yeah, you got that image too, right?  Like a cocaine bust gone bad, powder flying everywhere while the pushers, dealers and addicts go scattering like cockroaches, leaving their precious C-dust behind.

Criminy, I was on a hair trigger! 

I love my kid.  I would never hurt him.  I'd maim, kill, brutalize, destroy and obliterate anyone who even tried to lay a harming hand on my child.   Srsly.  But I was about 2 seconds from losing my marbles altogether and run screaming from the room throwing flour and sticks of butter at anyone who got in my way.

In the end, the cake turned out....well, edible.  Not bad, really.  It's crumbly and looks like absolute shit, but it's got a good flavor, just enough moisture in it to keep me from tossing it in the garbage and the frosting is pretty tasty.

The best part?

My kid had a blast.



Btw....I'm hoping to parlay this interest in cooking into a career for him - maybe as the next generations equivalent of Guy Fieri, with his own cool-ass show on Food Network.  Yes, I'm planning to live vicariously through my kid and I'm not the least bit ashamed of it.  Ha.

Squirrel!!!

Have you seen the animated movie, Up?   You have?  OK.  Remember the sweet little dog named Dugg who, bless his little puppy heart, was, like all other dogs, riddled with Attention Deficit Disorder?  Smack in the middle of his dialogue he would stop, point and yell, "Squirrel!".   Now....take Dugg, put him in human form - specifically that of an overweight 42 year old house frau (who, nevertheless manages to usually look effortlessly hip and fabulous) - and add a smidge more A.D.D.  That, my friends, is moi. 

I'm the squirrel-pointing equivalent of an animated dog.  *face palm*

I have actually been in the midst of a conversation with someone while riding in a car and without warning or pause yelled out "Squirrel!".  "Bunny!" and "Deer!" are also favorite tourrette-like eructations of mine because, well....I like squirrel, bunny and deer.  If I happen to see one on the side of the road, I suppose my poor, addled brain thinks it's important enough to interrupt a conversation between two grown-ass adults and immediately call attention to the fact that one of these critters (soon to be road-kill, I imagine) is visible from the road.   

What the blue fuck is that all about???

I have a theory.  Your brain is like any muscle in your body (yes, yes, I know the brain is an organ, not a muscle); if you don't use it, you lose it.   Admittedly, I have likely always had a touch of A.D.D. but it has become increasingly more evident and frustratingly present in recent years.  It got a bit worse after the birth of my son.  I mean, let's face it - kids are incredibly distracting because your focus has to be in 26 places at once in addition to dealing with the other asshole members of your household (husband, cats, dogs, birds, in-laws, your old college roommate - that useless bag of unemployable snot who has been camping out on your couch for the last 6 months swearing up and down he's going to get a job and move out...meanwhile the couch cushions are full of his beer farts and the pillows reek of his stank-nasty Funions breath and his chest hair is sprinkled all over your bathroom vanity.... irritating fucker.  Oh.....see what happened there?  I went off on a tangent....A.D.D., kids).

Back to my theory.....if you don't have consistency and routine, and something to do other than scrubbing skid marks out of underdrawers and grocery lists to make, your brain is going to atrophy.  It's going to shrivel and die from lack of use.  It will short-circuit, fry and malfunction.  In my case, it's A.D.D. and to add insult to injury, a glorious case of short-term memory loss.  Although, it could be the A.D.D. had me so distracted I never processed the things I was supposed to remember because I wasn't paying attention at the time and therefore---ah, feck it. 

Folks, I've been out of work for two and a half years.  I never chose to become a stay at home mom (diva!).  I lost my fucking job rather unexpectedly and couldn't find another.   It's that tragically simple.  I looked.  I looked and looked and cried and raged and suffered horrible feelings of rejection and uselessness until I finally gave up and accepted my fate as just another unemployed schmuck.  It's been very hard getting myself into a routine and for the majority of the time I have been languishing here at home, I haven't had one.   I try but then a squirrel runs by or something shiny catches my eye and BOOM!...routine blown to hell.  Focus gone. 

Have any of you ever gone through something like this?  How does someone in my position, with my unfortunate affliction, drag their sorry carcass out of the rut and do something productive?   Please don't go all Nike on me and tell me to "just do it".  Try it and the next thing I "just do" will be digging a hole to toss your body into.  Seriously, kids.  I need real perspective here - real, tried and true solutions! 
Anyone have anything?  

Anyone?

Anyone?

Bueller?

Any--

--BIRDIE!

New Beginnings!

Ciao, kiddies!

Well, looks like I'm at it again.  Actually, it doesn't look like it....it is.  Yes, I have (as you can plainly see since you're reading this) created...Yet.  Another.  Blog.  Ugh.  Go ahead, get it over with.  Roll your eyes.  Go on, I know you want to. 

You done now?  Good.  Now, pay attention.

The reason for this is twofold.  One; I need to start writing more and about a greater variety of subjects since I have all but decided I am going to pursue a creative writing degree.  Two; my other blog contains a great deal of extremely personal information that is not only not fit for general consumption but will reveal truths about me to certain folks I am not yet ready to reveal.   

Aw, shit....now I've done it.  I've tossed that tasty bone out there with lil bits o' meat clinging to it and now all you dogs are wondering what it tastes like.  Tough shit.  If I wanted you to gnaw on it, I'd have thrown it your way.  Sorry, suckas!  (no I'm not)

Look, here's the deal:  I love to write.  I can't say with any certainty that I'm very good at it.  There are times I am spot on and funny as hell.  I've got shit to say and by God, I'm-a gonna say it.  Sometimes I even say it rather well.  Other times my posts are a rambling mess of disjointed thoughts and nonsensical ravings (of a lunatic mind!) chock full o' typos, grammatical errors and truly bad punctuation.  Come to think of it, this one will likely be full of bad punctuation.  Somehow, I seem to have brain-farted that skill clean out of my head at some point in the last 10 or 15 years or so. 

This blog is meant to hone my skill, share my observations about life, be it my own, those of friends or family (with their permission, of course....usually) and/or things I see on the intrawebs and the news.   My inspiration, my fodder is the world around me.  Some days my scope and my focus will be very narrow and won't go any farther than my own  head.  There's a scary prospect.  Some days I'll see what's happening out there in cyber space and rant a little about that.  Maybe, every once in a while, I'll really wander far and see what's happening out in the big, bad, scary, fucked-up world we live in.

Oh yeah.....there's gonna be swearing.  Lots of it.  Perhaps not in every post, but you can bet douche bags to donuts that the majority of my posts are going to peppered with colorful language and some sweet little nuggets of cussing created by yours truly.  Folks, don't get yer knickers in a twist over it.  They are only words (says the would-be writer!).  They only have power if you give them power.  Frankly, I love to swear.  -- now would be the time to skedaddle if you find you cannot bear to expose your delicate eyeballs to my foul expletives --  Hello, the name of this blog is "Potty Mouth"!  Why are you here?  I fucking love to fucking swear and shitballs cock motherfucker I'm going to say every shitty fucking thing I fucking feel I need to 'cause dammit this is MY blog and I -- insert Cartman voice here--> do what I want! 

Capiche?  
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Still here??  Excellent!  You've made a good decision. I really think you're going to get a kick out of this.  If not....well....I'll look like a real asshole, won't I?