It’s my party

Or at least it will be.

A few years ago I pretty much planned out my funeral the way I want it to be handled. I did this mainly because I didn’t want my kids to have to do it, no matter how old they happen to be when I pass. At the time, I gave my unfinished draft to the local funeral director (who I happen to know personally), but I haven’t actually finalized or legalized it yet.

Every once in awhile something will happen that reminds me that I need to wrap up my death wishes so that when I do die, I can rest assured that at least one of the things in my life went according to my plan.

Today, I was talking to a friend, who thought it was very funny that I am actually banning a certain couple of people from my funeral. It’s not funny, really. It’s serious. It could be worse, because if these people were to happen to show up and shed even one tear over my dead body, I would reach up from the casket and strangle their neck. Dead and all, I would do that. So, it’s for their own good.

Am I bitter? No. Sort of. However, my funeral will be a celebration of my life (not my death), of which these people gave no shit about, and had no qualms about letting me know this. Therefore, they don’t deserve to all of a sudden care about me….when I’m dead. Basically, if they cry, they’ll be a) lying or b) begging for un-deserved sympathy. Nope. Not on my time they won’t.

It’s my final party, and I’m going to do it none other than, my way! This amazing song that pretty much sums up my story, will be the last. . .

. . . following Ozzy Osbourne and Billy Joel and Kansas and . . . others.

Yes, it will be, my way.

Wherever you go, go with all your heart. ~ Confucius

(I ‘stumbled upon’ this photo once and saved it without knowing who to give credit to; so if you know, please share. Thank you)

Really?

What could have been is better than what could never be at all.

from XLBF, via email . . . this morning. :/

Food fight with Karma

Have you ever found yourself curious as to why something just happened to you? Something strange, peculiar, extraordinary…just out of the blue?

It’s Karma, people. Karma. She’s a two-faced bitch that re-cycles universal forces of energy which stem from our own previous behaviors. And man oh man that girl don’t miss a beat, either.

Merely seconds after I clicked the “publish” button on that last post, (the one I wrote while dreaming of making a humongously big beautiful chocolatey birthday CUPCAKE topped with luscious yummy very colorful whipped cream icing and lots of pretty sprinkles…and then smashing it into XLBF’s face, {or maybe smearing it on his Jordan’s}). . .

The bitch dumped spaghetti in my lap!

Now tell me why, in the hell, she has to be like that? And why can’t she bring her “good” self around just as quickly as she pulls shit like this? I mean seriously.

A few posts ago I wrote something about fictional characters as heroes. You know, now that I think about it, I’d like to be Karma. Just for a day.

Except, I don’t think she’s fictional. I think she’s very real. In fact, I know she is.

Stupid badass bitch.

Rise Above

“Maybe the past is like an anchor holding us back. Maybe, you have to let go of who you were to become who you will be.” ~ Carrie Bradshaw

Love Stinks!

My Facebook status a few days ago:

“Valentines Day is showing up (eh…more like THROWING UP) all over the freakin place. This is one holiday I can’t stand!!!!!

A male co-worker friend of mine was brave enough to chime in with all the women who agreed with and “liked” my status and said:

“Damn….feel the hate……I thought this was a new year?

I replied:

Oh (co-worker) tell me you like it any more than I do….and I’ll call you a liar. It’s dumb! And of course it’s a new year…but no one said I had to love “LOVE”. 

Trust me. If there’s anything in this world that I know, I know one thing fo sho, LOVE STINKS!!! (And, yea yea, it does make you cry!) So? In spite of the new year and the fact that “love” is suppose to be one of my ‘words of the year’ that I work on doing better….I still don’t love “LOVE”. (It’s still January, people. I need time! Jeesh.)

Go ahead Sandler, tell’em exactly how I feel about that stupid “L” word (with the exception of one minor disagreement…cake is not stupid…unless it’s ‘Cupcake’. Just sayin)

Delirium

I was talking with a co-worker today about my sleep-less nights and how when I lay down to sleep, no matter how tired I am, my mind chatters so much that I can’t fall asleep…sometimes for hours.

He asked if I have tried sleeping with a television on. Yes. Not recently, but my ex-husband (who I haven’t lived with for over 4 years now) used to have to have the television on in order to fall asleep. Every night, without fail, I would get so pissed (even knowing beforehand) that the damn thing would keep me awake and I would have to be the one to get out of bed and turn it off. Every. Single. Night.

Besides this, the Feng Shui people say having a television in the bedroom is bad. I believe them.

My co-worker says, ‘Well. If the television is on, you don’t have to be watching it. Your subconscious will hear it and focus on what it’s saying instead of what your mind is saying.’

Eh. Maybe. At this point, I’ll give anything a try.

So, at 3am this morning, what is my ‘subconscious’ hearing?

Call now for a free cd and banish anxiety…

Testimonial #1, bills were accumulating and stressing me out so bad…

Testimonial #2, I would have anxiety attacks just thinking about my job…

Testimonial #3, I was so down on myself I felt that I was doomed to live alone and unhappy for the rest of my life…

Testimonial #4, I didn’t know who I truly was until I completed this program…

Click.

Really?

So much for that dumb idea.

Same time, same place tomorrow night? 3am. WordPress. Blogging. Be there.

I Think Maybe I Can

I’m really worn out from all the status games on Facebook. The color of my bra, the style of my hair at that moment…who cares. Seriously. I did change my photo for “way-back week” when a very-long-time friend of mine tagged me in a picture of us around the age of kindergarten. But high school photos, then wedding photos, hell no.

Today, a guy (an old classmate who I sometimes truly believe is still lost in his teenage years, and probably makes these games up himself to pretend it’s still 1987) asked everyone to change their photo to a fictional character that resembles their personality. I’m 41, I don’t have fictional heroes. I don’t have heroes, period. Sorry.

However, if I truly was mandated to do this stupidly dumb project, I would pick the little girl in Ruth Krauss & Mary Blair’s Little Golden Book…

Gubble gubble gubble, I’m a mubble in a pubble. I can play, I’m anything that’s anything. That’s MY way.

I love her confidence!

If I had it, I could fly, too.

More important stuff

Important stuff I don’t know

I don’t know why I wrote February instead of January on my request for leave slip. Most people are still writing 2009, I’m writing a whole different month. I don’t know why.

I don’t know what I will do on February 15, the day I was actually approved to be off. (Being the day after Valentine’s Day, I will most likely have some wine and watch sappy chick flicks with my date … a box of Cheez-its … and just be happy about it). Whatever.

I don’t know why I can’t let go of my son’s first backpack from kindergarten. It’s crunchy. He’s 20.

I don’t know how the first month of 2010 is already half gone, and I still haven’t accomplished, nor changed, a thing.

I don’t know why apartment living has to suck so bad.

I don’t know why people use dishwashers, except for maybe they like filmy residue and water spots on their dishes (which were already clean prior to entering the dishwasher).

I don’t know how to feel about Mark Mcgwire admitting to steroid use during his record breaking years, because I’m too busy wondering if, and how much, Tiger Woods paid him to take the heat and publicity off of his own selfish acts.

I don’t know what it feels like to die. An offender went to medical yesterday for the second time with the same ailment. The nurse (who obviously believed the offender was not ill enough to be treated under “emergency” circumstances) told the offender not to come back unless he felt like he was dying. When the offender returned to the housing unit he asked me what if felt like to die. I (being totally blindsided by the question but trying to remain “professional”) told him I wasn’t sure. He said he didn’t either…because he’s never died before. I think he has a point.

Important stuff? I don’t know.

Important stuff

Important stuff I know.

If you leave an ear infection go too long without antibotics, it will begin to sound similar to that of having a conk shell attached to your ear. And feel like it, too.

Also if you leave an ear infection go too long without antibotics, you will end up in so much pain that you can’t lay down. So then you will be up at 4am writing to your blog about it.

The best part about having a blog is that you can write about whatever you want. It’s better than having a journal because on a blog, sometimes people talk back. And when they talk back, you have the right to approve the comment if you like what they have to say; and delete it if you don’t.

There is not a “delete” button in real life. There also is not an “undo” button. Therefore, it is wise not to do embarrassing shtuff in public. Therefore, if you are a knee-jerk reactor, you should really work on that, for it could become an issue. Trust me. I know.

Procrastination can really stink when it comes to taking out the garbage. Especially when it contains the remnants from a procrastinated refrigerator clean-out.

They say when one door closes, another always opens. I’ve found this mostly to be true. However, most recently I had 3 open all at once. I slammed them shut as fast as I could. I think I did the right thing.

I asked a co-worker today if he thought FSC in cigarettes would cause cancer. He asked me why I worried about such a thing when it is known that cigarettes cause cancer. Oh yea.

Nyquil is good for nighttime, sniffling, sneezing blah blah blah, and making me sleepy. It has been approximately 26 minutes since I drank the nasty stuff and I’m thinking the drowsiness is about to override the pain in my ear.

So that’s that.

Important stuff, I know.