Cut the Shit

The Things

For the first time since the "Civil War", I came up with a title for this post before I even typed it. I NEVER do that. Mostly cuz when I was a budding writer I was told by some random teacher that a true author never titles their work until they finish the piece. "How else would they be able to let their creative mind fly?"
Uh...yeah. Snores. But I still abide by it to this day. I take the English language very seriously...those of you who know me personally know what I mean. And lastly, yes. When I write a post with a misspelled word or incorrect punctuation, it kills me. It guts my soul. Satisfied?

In any case, if you go to Google (of love) and type in "thing", this picture is the first to pop up under "Images". WTF? and also SNARF.

In any case, here are the aforementioned "things". BTW...if you go to Google (of love), make sure to type "thing" and not "thingS" cuz then it won't work out the way I said. And yeah. I just spent 25 or so sentences on this very topic.

Moving on...

Thing 1:

My issue from last week has since been resolved. In actuality, it was solved rather easily. Turns out that the work I did in the friendship prior really went a long way in making up for my mistake. I'm incredibly happy to say that since the "reckoning of 2006", this friend and I have gotten even closer. Strange, but true. Yes...YES! I'm a dramatic monster. I know that. But last week it was REALLY FUCKING BIG. And this week, it's...well...not so big. Thank you for caring about me tho. I totally plead emotional instability on this one.

Thing 2:

Member when I said that my whole weekend was going to be all about Nip/Tuck? Yeah, well, guess what guys? Season 2, Disc 4 showed up cracked in half. Netflix is a DREAM until this happens. No joke, here's what happened (and may go a long way to explaining Thing 1):

Joe opens the package. Joe doesn't feel good from the night before and woke up early to make some hot chocolate and watch the required five hours of Nip/Tizzle. Joe pulls the disc out and puts it in the player. The screen says "Cannot play disc". I laugh to myself and think "Oh yeah, I should probably clean this player out at some point". I pull the disc out to blow in the player (know that trick?) and realize that the disc is cracked in half.

I, involuntarily (sp? motherfuckers), said "No. NO. NONONONONONONONO!". Tyler looked at me with that cocked head of judgement and that's when I clenched both of my fists and gave myself a, let's say, cherry tomato, colored face. I let out a breath and realized, "Oh YEAH! It's NOT the end of the world! It's 11:30am, I'm hungover and depressed from the night before, I'll watch Next on MTV.

CLENCHED motherfucking FISTS.

Thing 3:

Very soon I will be doing a mad sick post on Paul and myself. It's been a LONG time since I've discussed my relationship and I think it's about time that I start doing it again. So much has happened. Back off.

Thing 4:

I want to say ONE thing about my birthday (notice that I say it was amazing, but never talked about it? Stop begging.).

I got many a gift on my birthday. I'm talking many and I'm talking a gift. But of all of the many and a gifts I got, there were two that stood out to me and continue to do so.

First...my friend Tessle, showed up to my 4th of July party and when pulled into my bedroom to discuss why I was upset with her, she responded by handing me a present. The gift was a hand painted (drawn? in any case ARTISTIC!) portrait of my eyes, lips and nose. I looked at it and did what any grateful person would do. I said "thank you" and "I love it" and I hung it on my wall with a literaly SWISH. I then proceeded to bitch about MY life and not focus on the gift for one more second. As though I never got it. And then I didn't make time nor pay attention to this person to the just degree, for the rest of the night. Classy, yes?

That night, once everyone had left and I was cleaning up, I came across that picture. I stood there looking at it and I thought. I imagined. I dissected. I gave it my absolute, undivided attention. I did what I should have done when it was given to me. A gift of this sensitivity comes around only so often. There hasn't been a day since where I've left my bedroom and not given it at least a moment of my time.

The second gift was something that I don't need to go into as much detail about, but was THE gift of the year. My friend Kelly gave me a hand-crafted wooden box with
a tiny lock on the front. She also gave me the FAT LADY HAPPY BIRTHDAY BALLOON from a couple of posts ago. I damn love that balloon and it STILL sings to the best of it's ability.

I thought the box was beautiful and was grateful to have a little locked container, all my own. A place to store my hidden treasures. (what am I 7?) But then I opened the box and what was inside made me start to cry.

I'm talkin CRY. KELLY and Paul were both there and they both were like "What's WRONG?" "ARE YOU OK?!"

Kelly...had taken the time to copy and paste (into Microsoft Word) every post in this journal -------since it's conception. That's FOUR years of posts and back in my heyday...I wrote everyday. Get it? Heyday...everyday?

Anyway...

She had the posts bound into book form and they rest inside my beautiful box.

WHO DOES THAT?! Who DOES that?

It STILL makes me teary to think about the thought and the work that went into that shit. I was (secretly) afrad that something would happen and I would lose all of this writing. That it would just be gone, cuz I don't "Back up". Even in sex.

But now...it's safe. I cried hard cuz it was a gift that made my life better. Smoother. Happier. Kelly is my best for this very reason. She knows me.

AND

Thing SNORES:

For some reason when I type at home, the cursor pauses every five fucking seconds. So i'm stop and startaskljdadfj, stop and start.

We're done for tonight. Blame it on my computer or Paris Hilton.

Love my Things.