My Life as it Turns Out...

fanfuckingtastic. yes. as it turns out...my life can be summed up in a nutshell! the fact of the matter is that i've pretty much been adhd all my life but as i've aged it has become an increasingly apparent issue. this blog by the way...? is a fucking perfect example. i started this a blog exactly one year, one week, and one day ago. that's fucking creepy...because until i just did the math in my head right now (when i looked back at the date of my first bitch post, ((appropriately titled "my first bitch post")), the timing of it all did not occur to me...one year, one week, and one day ago. or maybe i'm fucking stupid and am not your stereotypical asian who's a math genius and will certainly feel like an idiot when i read this later. sober too. just sayin'.

so my point is...i've been fucking adhd ALL MY FUCKING LIFE?! HOLY SHIT!!! that explains everything. and for FUCKSAKE alive! why had this never occured to anyone who is close to me before i turned the age of thirty-two? i mean seriously...i kinda made a joke about it one day and then everyone else starting saying it about me jokingly, and it really made me wonder. hmmm...and guess what? ADHD ALL MY FUCKING LIFE!!! no wonder i'm a piece of shit! i can't fucking finish ANYTHING i start!!! not this blog - in hopes that some fucking day, someone would just come along and offer to turn my blog into a book, and that would lead to at least five other book deals, and then i could just sit on my ass all day (as i've become a frequent author on "the new york review of books"), and not have to give a shit about not finishing anything (while staring at the hot college frat boy cleaning my pool)! i certainly have not finished my college degree - in which i have 99.00 credit hours. yes. and not only 99.00 credit hours have i managed to successfully finish at a snail's pace but i've also been awarded to pay fifty-six thousand dollars in student loans back to the lenders. FUCK ME HARD. mothafucka.

yeah. my "so-called" adhd has also strayed me from accomplishing yet another goal. and don't even get me started on all the home projects i have going on at the moment because my adhd got me distracted in the middle of my first project which resulted in starting a second project, and let me just tell you...i'm now stuck in the middle of project number nine. yes. holyshitballs. no wonder my life is a disaster. hot mess! i'm tellin' ya'. and let's not forget all the other half-attempts i've made in my life that has fucking landed me somewhere between the towns of "shitville" and "fuck me hard"...and as fate would only have it...i'm stranded on a country road with a car that has an empty gas tank...and both my legs are probably broken too...(you know...as fate would only have it. or at least my fate in life).

and that leads me to my original point! i could've accomplished so much more by this point in my life! that has always been my goal! i've always been determined. i just can't finish what i start! and to think...if this all had just been discovered a long fucking time ago. and who do i have to thank for fucking me up?! i don't know. i'm not here to play the blame game...i'm just here to bitch.

Average

i always thought that just being average, or accepting average, or less than average was quite unacceptable. i am a self-proclaimed perfectionist (and, that combined with a case of ADD, OCD, and procrastination does not make for a pretty picture)! actually, what i should really say is that the picture is damn near flawless but the artist that painted it is a HOT MESS, and it only took her fifty years to paint it!

recently, i've found my drive and motivation is quite lacking...not that i don't have my usual and occasional bouts of being completely undetermined. however, historically speaking, i can normally talk myself out of being a loser and kick myself in the ass a few times and get back on the motivation train. but lately? i must admit...that other than doing the absolute minimal to get by...? well...honestly...there isn't much more than that. well, other than my addiction to xbox, free cell, and not giving a shit. and p.s. my addiction to "not giving a shit" involves a whole abundance of other things. but perhaps that whole abundance of other things should be saved for a whole other blog! because quite frankly, i wouldn't even know where to begin.

anyway. my point is, is that i'm critically looking back at my life and all that comes to mind is, WHAT THE FUCK. this is my life? seriously?! like motherfucking seriously. here's the thing...when i was in my twenties, i rationalized my half-attempts at life as being uninspired, irresponsible, and unclear of who i really was and what i really wanted. however, now that i'm progressing towards forty and not fucking thirty, means the fact that i've justified for oh so TOO FUCKING LONG the idea that "i'll have my thirties to make up for my twenties" has backfired fucking royally. especially! because i'm sitting here contemplating the fact that i'm sitting here (between playing hands of poker and typing), looking back at my life and thinking, WTF.

i don't think it's too late to change my course in life. i don't. i just have this mad addiction of saying, oh fucking well! i realize that perhaps i am a bit jaded and cynical when it comes to life...i feel like i've had my parade shit on one too many fucking times. BUT not that we all haven't - right? i get that. i get that shit happens. i get that life happens. i get that shit happens and we call it life. and, i have to say that my resignation at coming to the realization that for some people life just happens to be average...? well...that's not me being complacent, that's me just realizing that there are average people in this world that get along just fucking fine. there are less than average people in this world that have powers that they shouldn't. the world runs on the fact that there are average people in it and running it. okay. fuck.

i mean...who cares that i'm not the fucking president of the united states? who cares that my potential is only semi-wasted? i love all the people out there who are rooting for me and cheering for me and supporting me! i do! i love them! but do those people who are rooting and cheering and supporting me really fucking care if i'm not president or my potential is only semi-wasted? OR do they care that i'm happy?

yeah. so life hasn't necessarily always gone to plan but i'm still enjoying the ride, and most days, although my determination often becomes lost somewhere between doing what i have to do to get by and cocktail hour, well, at least i'm smiling while i'm doing it. okay...i admit that i'm not always smiling. FINE...i'm mostly not smiling. but honestly? i'm not a smiler. however, that doesn't mean i'm not happy and not happy inside. because most days that i'm just enjoying the ride...means that i'm not stressing out and FREAKING out, and not worrying about the five zillion other fucking things that everyone else is.

call it average. call it complacency. i'm quite positive that i really don't give a flying fucking shit.

Throw A Girl A Bone!

since my ex and i parted ways almost a year and a half ago, i've often thought about the baby girl i left behind. and, when i say "baby girl" i mean dazy - my ex-miniature dachshund. well truthfully, she was never really mine in the first place, and quite frankly, after my ex and i first started dating i had visions of tossing her in a garbage bag with a cinder block, driving over the missouri river bridge, and hurling that bitch in.

however, while dazy is undoubtedly an alpha female, she still nevertheless, FINALLY grew out of her puppy stage which i now understand to be the primary reason for her being such a fucking little twat. moreover, we had a "come to jesus" meeting about there only being ONE bitch allowed in the house, and i was most confident that it was ME and not some dog the size of a football that i wanted to, at one point, kick across the yard like i were aiming for a field goal.

after our tumultuous beginning, dazy and i became quite the pair, and i coddled her to no end. even when my ex wanted to kick her across the room like a football, (and she undoubtedly deserved it), i would intervene. she was my baby - my baby girl. and i miss my baby girl.

there was a time when i would go visit dazy, and i'd walk in the door and in my very "baby momma" voice would ask, "where's momma's baby?", and she'd come catapulting out of her bed to jump on me. this was often followed by lots of cuddling and me asking her "did you miss your momma?", while she responded by crying like a little baby. oh my dazy! i never thought i'd love you so much. so much in fact, that i replaced her existence in my life with a stuffed animal replica of her (minus the white paw and patch on her chest, and of course, all the other responsibilities of actually owning a real dog).

recently, it seems i am forbidden to have visitations with dazy, and subsequently, my overwhelming feelings of love and loss for dazy has made me contemplate adopting another mini weiner! but why in the fuck do the cost so much gotdamn money? it seriously pisses me right the fuck off. miniature dachshunds (of the smooth-haired, red-colored variety), range in price from almost three-hundred dollars to six-hundred dollars. is there really that big of a demand for them?! naturally, it doesn't take long most breeders to determine which pups of the litter will be the cutest and consequently, those puppies go the fastest and for the most money.

yes. i have considered adopting a dog from the humane society, and even various shelters throughout the mid-missouri region. apparently, mini dachshunds are a rarity among these rescue facilities. yes. i have considered another breed but i want a dazy baby junior. so i'm saying, THROW A GIRL A BONE! how in the hell and why the fuck do these little monsters cost so much? am i that naive when it comes to dog breeding? i don't know.

what i do know is that it has crossed my mind several times to go dognap dazy. howevere, since i'm already on my ex's shit list, and it'd take him about five whole seconds to figure out where she was, in addition, to not caring to suffer the penalties of such a crime, i will continue to fill the "dazy" void in my life with my little stuffed animal dachshund. oh and p.s. i call her baby too, and was very upset when my "man of the moment" carelessly tossed her on the floor because she was "in the way."

The Simple Things

i feel like a child on christmas eve that is fighting sleep in eager anticipation of what the morning holds. but damn! my eyes have yet to begin to droop, and i'm neither a child nor am i eagerly awaiting anything that morning will bring all too soon. insomnia sucks my ballsack. i know the minute i finally reach my deep sleep mode that my alarm clock will be going off and i'll be hating life. kinda like this morning when my alarm went off at 10:00 and the only thing i could decipher in my hangover haze was that my hair hurt. well that and getting old sucks because i just can't bounce back like i did when i was in my twenties. motherfucker.

i wish life were as simple as when i was a child. mostly because i hate the responsibilities of being an adult (as you all know), and i especially despise the MAJOR responsibilities, for example, having to work and pay my bills. being an adult hasn't cracked up to be what i anticipated. reality has sunk in...it sinks in a little further every day (good thing since i'm 32)! my life is not what i ever thought it'd be at this age, and i have no one to blame but myself. which sucks because i'd love to come up with some stellar excuse for being a capital "L" fucking loser. not that i really think i'm a loser...i'm just about five hundred thousand miles short of my goal(s).

AND apparently, i'm not the only one who can't sleep. my "man of the moment" just called me up and asked me if i was pregos. WTF. yeah. was he not there last night as i was binge drinking vodka and then falling all over myself? yeah. i'm pregnant. and i was really hoping for an alcohol syndrome baby. UMMM...DUH! (he informed me the thought has been weighing on his mind for the last couple of nights). MAYBE he's really trying to tell me that i'm getting fat except that i'm not! i mean for fuck sake! i just fit into my "goal" jeans two weeks ago. if, being pregnant makes you less chubby, then maybe i am pregos. EXCEPT THAT I'M NOT! and IF, being pregnant makes you have vodka and beer cravings, then maybe i'm pregos or MAYBE i'm a lush. the reality of the matter is - is that I'M NOT PREGNANT.

and p.s. what a horrible thing to put on a person. that's like wishing a person who so does NOT want to be pregnant, pregnant! and then bam! that one small curse by some random person, inevitably leads to the "NOT WANT TO BE PREGNANT" person pushing a watermelon out of their vaj nine months later.

and another thing, you have to have SEX to get pregnant. DUH. and no, i'm not proclaiming that i'm a virgin, i'm just saying that babies don't happen without penis in vagina. sex education 101. you learned it here folks!

ahhh...remember when life were as simple as being a kid? and not about hoping that you're NOT going to give birth to one? when the opposite sex didn't matter? and the only thought that entered your mind was that boys were fucking dumb? and you didn't become involved in asinine drunk fights with your significant other because you were eight, and you weren't a wino yet, and you didn't give a shit about having a significant other? REMEMBER WHEN?

i find it strangely hilarious that "the man" was so concerned that i was pregnant that he rang me at 2:30 in the morning. but last night when i was passed out on his bathroom floor because of all the vodka i consumed, he was sleeping soundly until i finally peeled myself off the floor at 5:00 in the morning.

yeah. this is me longing for the simple things in life.

Yeah! Yeah! Fuckin' Yeah.

so 2011 has come and it has gone...well not completely but since i haven't posted a blog lately...i think of 2011 as more of gone than come. and so much for those new year's resolutions. fuck resolutions anyway. for myself, they only last for about five minutes before i say neverfuckingmind.

i have vices! i need something - anything to get me through a new year, and what i normally resign myself to giving up because it's good for me or not good for me, well...let's face it. being bad is so much more fun.

i should write more often and it's not that i don't have a lot to write about, it's just that somehow, lately, i haven't been able to find the words to put on paper. i am not poetic nor do i pretend to be but if all i have to say is fuckmotherfuckerfuckshitgoatsass, then where is the joy or profoundness in that? it is amiss.

not that i don't have plenty to bitch or scream about because i think i do. fuck. i'm female. what don't i have to bitch about? not that i don't love being female. but fuckmotherfuckerfuckshitgoatsass. sometimes life is just not a bowl of fucking cherries. irregardless of the rose-colored glasses we put on to weave our way through life. fuck cherries. and fuck rose-colored glasses. bowls on the other hand? well...it depends what's in the bowls and i hate motherfucking cherries. so i say, give me something memorable...something so memorable that i forget.

welcome to 2011. in fact, my welcoming of 2011 with open arms was a very fucking good one. i laughed, i ate, i drank, i smoked, and gotdamnit! if i didn't welcome with "open arms" a new year because it was probably one of the best new year's that i've had in a very long time.

let's face it, last year was mostly shitty. fucking very shitty. but at least i got through it and welcomed with great anticipation a new year - a new start. but just as i turned the calendar page, fate would only have me wishing for next year ALREADY, and only because the unraveling of 2011 started with a bang and has since slowly begun to go up in smoke. and fuckmotherfuckerfuckshit. it's only fucking january!

so i say...bring on a new month. i'm NOT that cynical. it HAS to get better than this. i know it will. it will! it will! it will! (i'm pretty sure that isn't denial).

and can i just say that i know i'm completely neurotic and incapable of being in a healthy relationship? i am totally selfish. i AM! but can i also say that when the right person comes along that i do my best to consider the other person and factor them into my life? BECAUSE I FUCKING DO.

i guess sometimes i wonder if i'm asking too much of another person. as if asking another person to do what they say they are going to do is too much. or if thinking that a person promising you this or that or the whatever is not some pipe dream. i don't care much for words. i want actions. you don't have to promise me you'll save the the world and this and that and a bunch of fucking bullshit that i don't care about. but when you do say you are going to do something, well...then just fucking do it and don't be all sissified and pussified about it. show me that you care by demonstrating that actions do speak louder than words. because you can make me all the promises in the world but when everything is said and done, if you can't deliver...? well then, you're just a fucking salesman in a suit.

and p.s. the tie and socks i picked out and bought you?? well...they cost way more than your suit. so don't talk to me about having great taste or compromising because this competition you think you're in is NO FUCKING CONTEST. i win. i always fucking win.