Good riddance, 2008

Dear 2008,
Thank you for sucking the oxygen out of the room.
Farewell.
Don't let the door hit you on the way out.
Love,
Patty

a religious update.

This morning through the last moments of sleep I heard a disturbance outside.
I opened up my eyes, got my ass out of bed and opened the front door.
The sky parted and i heard a loud voice say, "Patty, why are you so funky fresh and dope?"

Thank God it's the weekend.

metro rail guards, watery eyes and beer in a can are all indicators that christmas is here.

Driving to work today I could not get over the fact that every single station was playing Christmas music. Mariah Carey, Boyz II Men (yes, i went there with the roman numerals), some adult contemporary crap.
I hate Christmas music. Hate it. I find it to be the most depressing thing. Even more depressing than a trip through Urban Outfitters when you're dirt broke and didn't bring your shoplifting bag. Kidding, kidding.
Anyways, the song that gets me the most and makes me want to hurl myself into moving traffic is Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.
For starters, I've never been one for taking orders from songs and this pretty much sounds like an order, but even worse than that the music is quite possibly the saddest since Dust in the Wind. Is it just me?
Regardless, when I heard it this morning I had a really painful flashback. And by painful, I am being a tad dramatic, although the situation did make me teary eyed. And I'm not the crying type.
I board the metro on a particularly manic day. I have my sunglasses on my head which must be some kind of proof that God exists, because if there was ever a day I needed sunglasses on my head it was this day.
I'm staring out the window and it is a noisy day on the metro. And I am wishing and hoping and even praying that everyone would just shut up.
Over the chatter, I hear...... "Have yourself a merry little Christmas,Let your heart be light...."
It is loud. I turn to look and see a man, probably homeless, singing. I look forward, I see a metro rail guard staring right at him. Everyone seems oblivious to the man singing except the guard and me. It's like a really weird scene in a movie where the only three people that are really there are me, the guard and the singer.
I have this intense pang of sadness that I can't explain. I want to crawl under the seat.
"From now on, our troubles will be out of sight"
Eyes start to water. I feel embarrassed. Like the girl that got made fun of in school in front of the whole class and started to cry. I can't help it. All of a sudden I feel so alone. Like, scary alone. I remember a co-worker that told me I would die alone. I push my sunglasses down to cover my eyes. This is all a little too intense for me on a metro rail ride.
"Have yourself a merry little Christmas, Make the Yule-tide gay, From now on, our troubles will be miles away"
I want to vomit my insides.
I look at the man through my sunglasses. Notice the lady sitting by him is now smiling at him. He starts to laugh. Tells her that he's been out since 5 in the morning and has been drinking since. Silence.
Finally.
I wipe an escaped tear from my cheek and pray for the world to hit pause.
He goes back to "From now on, our troubles will be miles away".
I think.... Christmas. And I'm alone.
I look at the metro rail guard and he's still got his eyes on the prize.
The man, he says, "Excuse me a second, I'm thirsty."
Opens a can of beer and starts to pour into an apple juice bottle. A small bottle.
The guard gets up and tells him, "You shouldn't have done that."
I slump in my chair and look away.
The man laughs. says he's thirsty.
The guard, he says, "Now you have to go."
Everyone is quiet.
The man is appalled that he is being kicked out. "You're making me leave?"
The guard says, "Yes."
It's a really sad moment. My glasses are fogged up. I feel sad, stupid, alone. And it keeps ringing in my ears. "From now on, our troubles will be out of sight."
I wonder why? Why will our troubles be out of sight? And I realize the cheery optimism of Christmas is driving me nuts. Particularly when it's hiding in the midst of this depressing ass song.
I hate Christmas music.
I hate you Christmas. I really do.
Choke on it.

The secret to true happiness is a combination of low expectations and insensitivity

This Olivia Goldsmith quote really got me thinking.

Maybe it's because it feels like my life is going upside down, inside out, Topsy turvy. Whatever the right words would be for it.
Words. They're never right. You never say the right things, only you think about them afterwards. You wish you would have said them. But for what? Words are just words. Or are they?
I've always over analyzed words. what people say to me. Ulterior motives. I wonder and wonder and wish I'd stop caring.
It's not wise to have expectations, humans, as a whole, are very disappointing. They don't say what they mean and they don't mean what they say. It's rare to find those few genuine people... and even then... those people will let you down, too.
Ahhhhh. pessimistic much?
The worse is when you feel like you are that disappointment. Like you've let people down. How, unwillingly, you let people down. It's the cycle. Unwillingly, we let each other down. Sometimes in order to keep ourselves happy, sane, healthy we have to let go of others and their emotions and let them down.
And it feels good. Bad and Good. Like finding mixed fruit jelly at the supermarket and then realizing that it's mixed with peanut butter. And you hate peanut butter, but damn is that mixed fruit jelly good.

Erika S. is a very bad girl.

So. I missed the finale of Paris Hilton is my new BFFFFFFFFF, because i was busy making a really, really, really long paper clip gown. (stay tuned for details on how to buy said gown at a later date). Of course Erika missed it, too, because she was busy mailing a care package to some hungry Ethiopians. BUT... while I did not catch said fine programming on a re-run episode, Ms. Erika did. Do you think that she could possibly fill me in on who was lucky (?) enough to win the life changing title of Paris Hilton's new BFFFFFFFFFF?
If you guessed that she didn't, you win.
I just had to read it from a totally random website.
What bothers me most is that you think you know a person and you think that said person totally knows you and then you realize that, in the grand scheme of things, nobody knows jack. I am so hurt... so shocked... so demoralized i can't even feel my left leg.

Very Personal. And Traumatic.

I was attacked by a dragonfly yesterday.
Yes, attacked.
I was about to sit down when I felt something pelt my chest. I looked up very annoyed thinking some little bratty kid had thrown a ball or something at me. I guess that because I am a very positive person (?) it didn't occur to me that it could have easily been a gun shot piercing the right side of my chest.
But, it wasn't a ball, a gun shot or even Cupid's arrow. It was a dragonfly. Yes, a dragonfly. Of small and insignificant stature. He/She was clearly trying to kill me.
Because I won't back down from anyone (especially not a dragonfly) I continued to take my chair. The dragonfly (seriously) leered at me form a couple of feet away. I tried not to be intimidated by this dragonfly because our body ratio was clearly like a million to one. If need be, I would definitely be able to take this dragonfly.
After a couple of minutes, I began to relax. The dragonfly was obviously over it's bout of insanity. I would occasionally glance up from the computer screen to see if the dragonfly was still there.
Yep. That little troublemaker was not moving.
(Before I proceed with this very fascinating story, I'd like to make note that a dragonfly attempt has been made on me before. I was walking through downtown and one clearly aimed at me head. My quick reflexes guided me to move and avoid being beheaded by said dragonfly)
I was about to gather my belongings and be on my merry way when the freaking dragonfly lunged at me, once again. I was able to stay out of it's way, lucky for him/her.
When I told multiple people of this horrifying story, I got two people telling me it was good luck.
Good luck?
I googled this tiny bit of information and found no website that said a dragonfly making an attempt on your life was good luck. However, I did read that dragonflies tend to symbolize good luck and freedom.
Let's hope a bird shits on my head next.

The Life Altering Quotes of the Day

Both from A Series of Unfortunate Events

If you were to take a plastic bag and place it inside a large bowl, you could use the expression 'a mixed bag' to describe what you had in front of you, but you would not be using the expression in the same way I am about to use it now. Although 'a mixed bag' sometimes refers to a plastic bag that has been stirred in a bowl, more often, it is used to describe a situation that has both good parts and bad parts. An afternoon movie theater, for example, would be a mixed bag if your favorite movie were showing, but if you had to eat gravel instead of popcorn. A trip to the zoo would be a very mixed bag if the weather were beautiful, but all the man and woman-eating lions were running around loose. -- Lemony Snicket

&

Of all the ridiculous expressions people use--and people use a great many ridiculous expressions--one of the most ridiculous is "No news is good news." "No news is good news" simply means that if you don't hear from someone, everything is probably fine, and you can see at once why this expression makes such little sense, because everything being fine is only one of many, many reasons why someone may not contact you. Perhaps they are tied up. Maybe they are surrounded by fierce weasels, or perhaps they are wedged tightly between two refrigerators and cannot get themselves out. The expression might as well be changed to "no news is bad news," except that people may not be able to contact you because they have just been crowned king or are competing in a gymnastics tournament. The point is that there is no way to know why someone has not contacted you, until they contact you and explain themselves. For this reason, the sensible expression would be "no news is no news," except that it is so obvious that it is hardly an expression at all. - Lemony Snicket

To Do List...

• Look long and hard to find out if there is any government assistance that would help me pay a full time maid. (please, if you are familiar with this kind of program, let me know)


• Feed the cast of 90210. They must be hungry.


• Find James Franco's home address. I am convinced he would love it if I showed up, unannounced with a bridal party and a priest. True Love forever.

• Complete my revenge mission on whoever caused the demise of my camera. My baby got kidnapped a while back.


• buy toilet paper.


• Daydream about making a movie solely through hologram. (me, Cary Grant and Clark Gable)


• Wonder why I've been spending so much money and have absolutely nothing to show for it.


• Do nothing about it.


• Curse the day Santa Claus was born. Bah, humbug.

Let us run with endurance the race that is set before us (Hebrews 12:1)

It was 1995, and the first time that Florida had seen snow since the prehistoric ages.

Erika, at the tender age of 12 was being incarcerated for setting fire to a very prominent electronics store (name withheld), in an effort to stand her solid ground on the very powerful anti-electricity stance she had taken in 1993. Patty, at the tender age of 13, was making a living any which way she could. She was recycling her happy meal toys and selling them for black market prices to the elementary school kids who didn't know any better. Times were tough.

As luck would have it these two rascals would meet on a farm, milking a cow. It was a friendship that would last a life time. (or until now, at least, thirteen years)

Patty slowly helped convert Erika's beliefs on the "demon" that was electricity. Erika slowly, but surely, started using electricity again and never wore wrinkled clothes again. Erika taught patty that selling used toys to young children was not right in the Lord's eyes.

The two took on a special project to ensure that everyone in the world would have lemonade if they wanted it. After all, they thought, lemons should be free. They started robbing lemons from grocery sores (names withheld) and started supplying the masses with free lemonade.

This, sadly, would not last long.

In an unfortunate day in 1997, Erika and Patty were caught stealing lemons and sentenced to one night in a juvenile facility. They were charged with petty theft.

Things were looking grim for these two ex-convicts but they managed to pull through and see the light. They are now two fine young ladies who dabble in cursing, sarcasm and southern comfort and/or jack daniels (sorry patty, you know that's my number one roll dog).

This blog celebrates life,death (yes we celebrate death) blasphemy and anything free or offensive or offensively free and vice versa.If you are the "faint of heart" type, my suggestion is as follows;if you come across this blog accidentally and you are a firm believer in the lord, run straight to a church and endulge in a sultry holy water bath.Be weary readers of this blog may or may not go to hell.Actually more likely than not.cheers!