i am sitting in my bathtub in a very hot bath when suddenly Batman comes floating by. this doesn't happen to me everyday. when i reached over to grab him, i noticed that he had something, or rather, someone attached to his cape. it was Velma from Scooby Do. i can understand her attraction to him. he is strong and silent. self-employed in a meaningful job. not the kind of guy who will come home and bore you to tears with stories about the "funniest thing that greg from the office did out at lunch today. what a scene keith caused at the thai place during lunch. what a backstabber that lisa is in accounting or how inappropriate debbi's outfit is."
of course, loving Batman does have some drawbacks. such as, he is not home as much as you would like. he can't keep regular hours so it is hard to make dinner for the guy. he can be moody and broods a lot. he tends to internalize a lot of things. has some trouble communicating.
Batman's attraction to Velma is equally obvious. she is dependable and reliable. always there when you need her. she has intelligence and a daredevil quality about her. she can make a guy feel safe. true, she can be a little annoying, like when she finishes the crossword puzzle before you have had a chance to look at the paper. and she is always pushing you to get more in touch with your feelings. but, she is there waiting for you when you come home after battling the forces of evil, drooling on your pillows and snoring ever so slightly and she has never seemed so beautiful to you.
can you belive that i find my self in tears in the bathtub. am i in desperate need of some romance....or simply a date? i'll take an evening with my beloved, snuggling under the covers.
1.27.2005
1.25.2005
are u there god?
i am sitting on a friend's couch, giggling like a girl. i am telling a story about how "chick shit" has ruined a lot of my so-called friendships. we both agree at the hassle of crap and drama that women force upon each other is the reason women can be so destructive. so we are in the midst of discussing "clitty litter" when my friend says to me:
"you talk just like a judy blume book!"
i think this fits me perfectly. i am so caught in a time when i was not just a girl, but some kind of odd hybrid of girl/boy. i spent my time in jeans, with holes in the knees, catching fireflies in empty miracle whip jars, boasting about my collection of toads from the cemetary, and riding my bike to the park that had the really big swings. the kind that go so high in the air you feel like you are taking flight. the trick was to tip back in your swing and let your hair drag in the dirt. the girl who could make the biggest dust cloud with her hair was dirt queen for the entire summer. i miss the life of scabbed knees and boys who wished they could pitch a baseball like i could. push-ups were 25 cents and you could ride your bike with the banana seat around your neighborhood without fear. i feel comforted when i think of those long summer evenings listening to the rat-tat-tat of cards in my bike spokes as i rode home before the street lights came on. it was a time when a girl knows she is a girl, and not a boy, but still dreads that time when she will have to let go of some of the boy-ness in her personality. it is that time right before the division of the sexes takes place. i really believe my best years were the summers between 8 and 13. things were easier, messier, and more fun.
the best part is that my friend and i both have girls and will get to experience that time all over again thru our girls. i don't mean that we are going to live thru our girls. we understand that we had our moment, but we look forward to the time where we can be silent observers. i see us pretending to make dinner in the kitchen, all the while we are eavesdropping on the girls in the yard comparing the size of their scabs and boasting about how high they can swing. we both realize how special this time will be for our girls..and how quickly it will pass.
"you talk just like a judy blume book!"
i think this fits me perfectly. i am so caught in a time when i was not just a girl, but some kind of odd hybrid of girl/boy. i spent my time in jeans, with holes in the knees, catching fireflies in empty miracle whip jars, boasting about my collection of toads from the cemetary, and riding my bike to the park that had the really big swings. the kind that go so high in the air you feel like you are taking flight. the trick was to tip back in your swing and let your hair drag in the dirt. the girl who could make the biggest dust cloud with her hair was dirt queen for the entire summer. i miss the life of scabbed knees and boys who wished they could pitch a baseball like i could. push-ups were 25 cents and you could ride your bike with the banana seat around your neighborhood without fear. i feel comforted when i think of those long summer evenings listening to the rat-tat-tat of cards in my bike spokes as i rode home before the street lights came on. it was a time when a girl knows she is a girl, and not a boy, but still dreads that time when she will have to let go of some of the boy-ness in her personality. it is that time right before the division of the sexes takes place. i really believe my best years were the summers between 8 and 13. things were easier, messier, and more fun.
the best part is that my friend and i both have girls and will get to experience that time all over again thru our girls. i don't mean that we are going to live thru our girls. we understand that we had our moment, but we look forward to the time where we can be silent observers. i see us pretending to make dinner in the kitchen, all the while we are eavesdropping on the girls in the yard comparing the size of their scabs and boasting about how high they can swing. we both realize how special this time will be for our girls..and how quickly it will pass.
1.24.2005
making a list
these are things i need to do:
buy paper towel
buy something for dinner
get emma to dance
feed nik and emma before dance
put clothes in washer in drier
fold clothes from drier and put away
empty out dishwasher
put dirty dishes in dishwasher
clean toilets
clean up my bedroom
dust blinds in living room
these are things that i am thinking about:
a small hand holding on to the back of my knee as i do dishes
small hands finger painting my face
the smell of sunshine in hair
finding a collection of rocks in a pair of jeans
discovering a headless barbie in my bed
smelling the top of a baby head while they sleep on my chest
days spent in pajama's
finding dried out playdough under dining room table
a collection of my toothbrushes in a pillowcase
giggling in the morning
the magic kiss on a band aid
playing princess and dragon
baby monster
playing in the sink
as i reach a particular place in my life i stop and take stock. by letting one thing go i will not lose these memories. they are mine forever and nothing can take that away from me. things may change, but some things remain the same always. who says you can't live on love alone?
buy paper towel
buy something for dinner
get emma to dance
feed nik and emma before dance
put clothes in washer in drier
fold clothes from drier and put away
empty out dishwasher
put dirty dishes in dishwasher
clean toilets
clean up my bedroom
dust blinds in living room
these are things that i am thinking about:
a small hand holding on to the back of my knee as i do dishes
small hands finger painting my face
the smell of sunshine in hair
finding a collection of rocks in a pair of jeans
discovering a headless barbie in my bed
smelling the top of a baby head while they sleep on my chest
days spent in pajama's
finding dried out playdough under dining room table
a collection of my toothbrushes in a pillowcase
giggling in the morning
the magic kiss on a band aid
playing princess and dragon
baby monster
playing in the sink
as i reach a particular place in my life i stop and take stock. by letting one thing go i will not lose these memories. they are mine forever and nothing can take that away from me. things may change, but some things remain the same always. who says you can't live on love alone?
1.22.2005
about a boy
there is such a dynamic within my son. he is both loving and.... what is the other word for this behavior?
on the weekend, nik and i were watching a trio of humphrey bogart movies. during the maltese falcon, emma asked why the lady was crying. i explained that mary astor had murdered someone and was going to jail. emma persisted in asking why did she have to go to jail. nik was so practical and explained:
"she killed miles. miles was his partner. sam isn't going down for her. she is going to down for killing miles. it is what a man has to do when is partner has been killed."
emma accepted this without question. someone kills your partner, pretty lady or not, you've got to send them over for it.
the last couple of days have been dark ones for me. and of course, my kids must bear the brunt of my mixed emotions. this morning was especially difficult for us. the whole process of getting the kids into the car and on their way to school can be exhausting for all of us. this morning was quite icky.
as a result, nik made a picture for me in school today. this is a picture of me saying, "i don't like you." and nik crying with a broken heart. this has left me with an indescribeable feeling in my soul. i have never uttered these words to either of my children. in fact, i make a point of saying their decisions make me upset and that there is nothing they can do that would ever make me not love them anymore. am i not making my point? obviously not.
apparently my dark moods are not mine alone. how does he know how sad i have been? how does he know i don't sleep? that i come home after dropping them at school and cry? children are very smart and nik is extremely sensitive. how can i explain that my feelings have nothing to do with him. the fact that he doesn't remember his backpack or takes 20 minutes to get dressed in the morning is not the reason i hate myself. my darkness is not mine alone. this is one of those things that you don't think of before you have a child. your own worries and demons are no longer just yours. my son is sometimes more aware that i am sad than i am. my face holds no secrets. and this makes me very sad.
after a heart-to-heart this evening, i tell nik that i am a mommy, but that i am not perfect. he likes and understands the idea that even mommies make mistakes. he offered me encouragement by saying, "even if you make a mistake, i will still love you." i assured him this went both ways. he has trouble understanding that he is not capable of losing my love. he believes that he will do something so horrible that i will just forget about him. this is something i don't understand, but i hate that he feels that way. to me, this is a failure on my part. how can i change this? i promised him we would take things one day at a time. this he understands. this is also something i can handle. the concept of child-rearing is just so big i can't get my brain around it. i can't even think about next year, not even this summer. i must take each day for what it brings. i can't put off improving my mothering skills until next week, next month. i will focus on tomorrow. i will wake up and stand tall. i will take all the little missteps on the chin and move forward.
i must also be able to let the bad go, as nik does. when saying goodnight tonight he gave me a hug and said, "let's not talk about that picture anymore." i assured him that i would grant this wish, even though i was desperate to tell him how important this picture is to me. the fact that he could illustrate his feelings, as well as, communicate his feelings makes me proud. i can't explain to him how important this picture is for me as a mother. instead i just can say, "sure thing boo" and leave it at that.
the thing about this boy is that he will leave it at that. if he does think about the picture again, he will remember our conversation, the hugs, the way his mom came clean about not being perfect, and he will be ok with that. here is where he and i differ. if i think about that picture again, i will remember his heart being broken...and i will not be able to forgive myself. when i grow up, i want to be like nik.
on the weekend, nik and i were watching a trio of humphrey bogart movies. during the maltese falcon, emma asked why the lady was crying. i explained that mary astor had murdered someone and was going to jail. emma persisted in asking why did she have to go to jail. nik was so practical and explained:
"she killed miles. miles was his partner. sam isn't going down for her. she is going to down for killing miles. it is what a man has to do when is partner has been killed."
emma accepted this without question. someone kills your partner, pretty lady or not, you've got to send them over for it.
the last couple of days have been dark ones for me. and of course, my kids must bear the brunt of my mixed emotions. this morning was especially difficult for us. the whole process of getting the kids into the car and on their way to school can be exhausting for all of us. this morning was quite icky.
as a result, nik made a picture for me in school today. this is a picture of me saying, "i don't like you." and nik crying with a broken heart. this has left me with an indescribeable feeling in my soul. i have never uttered these words to either of my children. in fact, i make a point of saying their decisions make me upset and that there is nothing they can do that would ever make me not love them anymore. am i not making my point? obviously not.
apparently my dark moods are not mine alone. how does he know how sad i have been? how does he know i don't sleep? that i come home after dropping them at school and cry? children are very smart and nik is extremely sensitive. how can i explain that my feelings have nothing to do with him. the fact that he doesn't remember his backpack or takes 20 minutes to get dressed in the morning is not the reason i hate myself. my darkness is not mine alone. this is one of those things that you don't think of before you have a child. your own worries and demons are no longer just yours. my son is sometimes more aware that i am sad than i am. my face holds no secrets. and this makes me very sad.
after a heart-to-heart this evening, i tell nik that i am a mommy, but that i am not perfect. he likes and understands the idea that even mommies make mistakes. he offered me encouragement by saying, "even if you make a mistake, i will still love you." i assured him this went both ways. he has trouble understanding that he is not capable of losing my love. he believes that he will do something so horrible that i will just forget about him. this is something i don't understand, but i hate that he feels that way. to me, this is a failure on my part. how can i change this? i promised him we would take things one day at a time. this he understands. this is also something i can handle. the concept of child-rearing is just so big i can't get my brain around it. i can't even think about next year, not even this summer. i must take each day for what it brings. i can't put off improving my mothering skills until next week, next month. i will focus on tomorrow. i will wake up and stand tall. i will take all the little missteps on the chin and move forward.
i must also be able to let the bad go, as nik does. when saying goodnight tonight he gave me a hug and said, "let's not talk about that picture anymore." i assured him that i would grant this wish, even though i was desperate to tell him how important this picture is to me. the fact that he could illustrate his feelings, as well as, communicate his feelings makes me proud. i can't explain to him how important this picture is for me as a mother. instead i just can say, "sure thing boo" and leave it at that.
the thing about this boy is that he will leave it at that. if he does think about the picture again, he will remember our conversation, the hugs, the way his mom came clean about not being perfect, and he will be ok with that. here is where he and i differ. if i think about that picture again, i will remember his heart being broken...and i will not be able to forgive myself. when i grow up, i want to be like nik.
1.06.2005
cat scratch fever
I have a fever. I must admit this because I am not sure if the events I am about to share are real or fever-induced.
Last weekend, Dan and I undertook the scary job of cleaning our room. That is not to say we have actually completed this task, but rather, we can see the floor. The angry piles of dirty laundry that were plotting a coup are now downstairs. And I have removed the 2 inches of dust off the fan blades, thus preventing any further damage to our nasal passages, since we insist on always running the ceiling fan even if it is 2 degrees outside. We also tend to keep our window open throughout the winter, this may add to the constant cold I seem to have. But I digress….
So right in the middle of the dusting, vacuuming, wrestling with the dirty clothes, I hear this sad and persistent meowing outside. There was no snow on the ground, the temperature was about 40 degrees, but there was a slight chill in the air. Out of nowhere this cat came to our front yard, sat in front of our bedroom window and began singing this sad song…..to me. It felt as if this cat sang this song just for me. I believe it was the tune, “I am a sad and hungry cat with no one to love me. I know you have a nice warm roasted chicken in your house. I know you are a soft touch when it comes to stray animals. I know you want to give me some of that chicken….NOW!”
As I looked out the window, these sad little eyes looked up at me….I was caught. Trapped in the lock of these little feline eyes. It was if he/she knew what kind of person they were dealing with. As if the cat had heard thru the grapevine that a sucker lived in my house. Dan sealed my fate with this cat when he said, “looks like Casey.”
Casey. Casey had been one of our cats when we first moved in together. This cat had to weigh about 65 pounds, mostly fur, really. He was so terrified to be leaving his nice roomy home in the suburbs to come and live in our tiny apartment among the drug addicts and male prostitutes. So upset by this transition that he wedged himself into the tiny space between a wall and our entertainment center. I spent hours coaching that fat cat out of that space, not realizing that he was actually stuck. I think Casey fell in love with me when I freed him from his trap and gave him tuna out of the can…the whole can. We quickly bonded and he began to sleep with me. When I say sleep with me, I mean he would crawl under the covers and sleep against my belly. Dan used to say he was surprised we didn’t scorch the sheets with our combined body heat. It was a sad, terrible day for me when Casey died. That is all I have to say about that.
So, now this cat shows up. In the middle of a Saturday afternoon, begging for love. What am I to do? Yes, I gave him chicken. Cooper our dog shot me the stink eye as I carried out some nice warm, carefully sliced chicken for this cat. But I didn’t care. Cat was happy. Cat purred and rubbed against my leg. Dan called out the window to me, “he had you at meow.” It was true.
I put cat out of my mind for the last few days. Out of sight, out of mind. Until……tonight. We are in the midst of a so-called winter storm. This means it will be a pain getting this kids to school. Our district hasn’t had a snow day since the blizzard of 1921. I have been battling a fever/cold/flu all day. I finally have lulled myself with cold tablets, diet Pepsi, and 2 hours of television featuring those goddamn Nazi’s when I hear it…..”meow…meow.” It is very faint, but it instantly wakes me up. I look out my window, but all I can see is snow. It is very cold outside. I open the front door and I can see little tracks in the snow. Oh, god. Cat! I can’t see cat anywhere. I whisper, but no reply.
Here is where things get a little fuzzy. This may or may not have happened, depending on what you hear. I may have then pulled on Dan’s boots and gone outside to look for cat. In my head, cat would be very cold and hungry. In my head, cat needed rescuing. Out in the snow, I follow tracks, little tiny paw prints, which lead me into my neighbor’s yards. I am greeted with great barks and growls of dogs being let out one last time for the night. After all, it is midnight. And what will I say if someone sees me in their yard? Just looking for cat? Standing in the middle of someone’s backyard, in my p.j.’s and Dan’s boots I come to my senses. FUCK THIS CAT! This is insane. I am out here, for what? This cat doesn’t belong to me. What do I care! I refuse to care. I refuse to worry about that damn cat. True, I once begged my parents to adopt a 3-legged, one-eyed dog from the humane society because I knew no one else would take him. And yes, during a rather dark period in my life I once went 2 days without sleep because I knew animals were starving on the streets, but no more. I have a steel heart now….sort of. This is what is pissing me off. My displaced agony over the condition of the world falls onto this cat.
Somehow I can rationalize staying awake at night, worrying about a cat. I can feed the cat. I can’t rationalize the rest of the world. Even my own babies. How can I keep them safe? How can a person like me even be a mother? The world is this big scary thing and we are all so small and completely defenseless. Sometimes our mere survival depends on the humanity of people around us. A hungry cat keeping me awake? No, it is not the cat. It is the world that surrounds that cat. But I get so scared; I can’t even allow myself to worry too much. If I really sit down and think about the world I have brought my children into I would never sleep again. I would keep watch over them day and night, never letting them out of my sight. But, who can live like that? I can’t. I can’t even think about it…that is why I am up in the middle of the night, looking for some cat. Does this make sense? Does anything about parenthood make sense?
My poor babies are at such a disadvantage having me as their mother. How can I be a source of strength and comfort when I am terrified? Last night Nik and I were talking about fear. I heard myself telling him to not let fear rule his life. There is a difference between being cautious and being afraid. Instead of always being scared that the abominable snowman is going to grab you and eat your bones, be cautious and brave. Be ready for him if he comes, but don’t waste your time sitting around waiting for him. Nik took this to heart and said, “yeah. If he wants me, he will have to come and find me. And I will have my light saber and that will take care of him.” I wonder if Nik would lend me his light saber.
Last weekend, Dan and I undertook the scary job of cleaning our room. That is not to say we have actually completed this task, but rather, we can see the floor. The angry piles of dirty laundry that were plotting a coup are now downstairs. And I have removed the 2 inches of dust off the fan blades, thus preventing any further damage to our nasal passages, since we insist on always running the ceiling fan even if it is 2 degrees outside. We also tend to keep our window open throughout the winter, this may add to the constant cold I seem to have. But I digress….
So right in the middle of the dusting, vacuuming, wrestling with the dirty clothes, I hear this sad and persistent meowing outside. There was no snow on the ground, the temperature was about 40 degrees, but there was a slight chill in the air. Out of nowhere this cat came to our front yard, sat in front of our bedroom window and began singing this sad song…..to me. It felt as if this cat sang this song just for me. I believe it was the tune, “I am a sad and hungry cat with no one to love me. I know you have a nice warm roasted chicken in your house. I know you are a soft touch when it comes to stray animals. I know you want to give me some of that chicken….NOW!”
As I looked out the window, these sad little eyes looked up at me….I was caught. Trapped in the lock of these little feline eyes. It was if he/she knew what kind of person they were dealing with. As if the cat had heard thru the grapevine that a sucker lived in my house. Dan sealed my fate with this cat when he said, “looks like Casey.”
Casey. Casey had been one of our cats when we first moved in together. This cat had to weigh about 65 pounds, mostly fur, really. He was so terrified to be leaving his nice roomy home in the suburbs to come and live in our tiny apartment among the drug addicts and male prostitutes. So upset by this transition that he wedged himself into the tiny space between a wall and our entertainment center. I spent hours coaching that fat cat out of that space, not realizing that he was actually stuck. I think Casey fell in love with me when I freed him from his trap and gave him tuna out of the can…the whole can. We quickly bonded and he began to sleep with me. When I say sleep with me, I mean he would crawl under the covers and sleep against my belly. Dan used to say he was surprised we didn’t scorch the sheets with our combined body heat. It was a sad, terrible day for me when Casey died. That is all I have to say about that.
So, now this cat shows up. In the middle of a Saturday afternoon, begging for love. What am I to do? Yes, I gave him chicken. Cooper our dog shot me the stink eye as I carried out some nice warm, carefully sliced chicken for this cat. But I didn’t care. Cat was happy. Cat purred and rubbed against my leg. Dan called out the window to me, “he had you at meow.” It was true.
I put cat out of my mind for the last few days. Out of sight, out of mind. Until……tonight. We are in the midst of a so-called winter storm. This means it will be a pain getting this kids to school. Our district hasn’t had a snow day since the blizzard of 1921. I have been battling a fever/cold/flu all day. I finally have lulled myself with cold tablets, diet Pepsi, and 2 hours of television featuring those goddamn Nazi’s when I hear it…..”meow…meow.” It is very faint, but it instantly wakes me up. I look out my window, but all I can see is snow. It is very cold outside. I open the front door and I can see little tracks in the snow. Oh, god. Cat! I can’t see cat anywhere. I whisper, but no reply.
Here is where things get a little fuzzy. This may or may not have happened, depending on what you hear. I may have then pulled on Dan’s boots and gone outside to look for cat. In my head, cat would be very cold and hungry. In my head, cat needed rescuing. Out in the snow, I follow tracks, little tiny paw prints, which lead me into my neighbor’s yards. I am greeted with great barks and growls of dogs being let out one last time for the night. After all, it is midnight. And what will I say if someone sees me in their yard? Just looking for cat? Standing in the middle of someone’s backyard, in my p.j.’s and Dan’s boots I come to my senses. FUCK THIS CAT! This is insane. I am out here, for what? This cat doesn’t belong to me. What do I care! I refuse to care. I refuse to worry about that damn cat. True, I once begged my parents to adopt a 3-legged, one-eyed dog from the humane society because I knew no one else would take him. And yes, during a rather dark period in my life I once went 2 days without sleep because I knew animals were starving on the streets, but no more. I have a steel heart now….sort of. This is what is pissing me off. My displaced agony over the condition of the world falls onto this cat.
Somehow I can rationalize staying awake at night, worrying about a cat. I can feed the cat. I can’t rationalize the rest of the world. Even my own babies. How can I keep them safe? How can a person like me even be a mother? The world is this big scary thing and we are all so small and completely defenseless. Sometimes our mere survival depends on the humanity of people around us. A hungry cat keeping me awake? No, it is not the cat. It is the world that surrounds that cat. But I get so scared; I can’t even allow myself to worry too much. If I really sit down and think about the world I have brought my children into I would never sleep again. I would keep watch over them day and night, never letting them out of my sight. But, who can live like that? I can’t. I can’t even think about it…that is why I am up in the middle of the night, looking for some cat. Does this make sense? Does anything about parenthood make sense?
My poor babies are at such a disadvantage having me as their mother. How can I be a source of strength and comfort when I am terrified? Last night Nik and I were talking about fear. I heard myself telling him to not let fear rule his life. There is a difference between being cautious and being afraid. Instead of always being scared that the abominable snowman is going to grab you and eat your bones, be cautious and brave. Be ready for him if he comes, but don’t waste your time sitting around waiting for him. Nik took this to heart and said, “yeah. If he wants me, he will have to come and find me. And I will have my light saber and that will take care of him.” I wonder if Nik would lend me his light saber.
1.01.2005
rockin' the suburbs
happy new year!
this will be a great year. and, fuck if i don't mean it. this year i did make resolutions. and no, i am not going to list every single one of them. but one worth mentioning is ATTITUDE. i am going to lose my negative attitude. you know, the one where i am full of rage and ugly feelings towards humanity in general.
i have reolved to reflect positively on what happens to me during the day. i believe that an improved outlook will go a long way. i am sure that this will completely change my personality, but i think it may be worth it. i am sick of myself for being such a petty person. ok, i am not really sick of myself. i am ashamed??? not really, but i should be. i should be kinder, less judgemental, even if the person i am complaining about totally sucks and deserves every mean thing i say, but...that was the old me. the new me will no longer make grand statements like,
"so-and-so is out of their fucking mind if they think...."
"what the fuck is so-and-so's problem?!"
"that is some bullshit right there, thinking such-and-such"
and yet, so much of this hate makes up my personality. don't get me wrong. i am full of self-loathing. i believe in spreading the hate all around. and the world is full of plenty of stupid people....ok, sorry. got carried away there. time for me to do my meditating.......
today is the first day of a new me. a kinder, gentler jen. i don't know how long i can keep this smile frozen on my face.....
this will be a great year. and, fuck if i don't mean it. this year i did make resolutions. and no, i am not going to list every single one of them. but one worth mentioning is ATTITUDE. i am going to lose my negative attitude. you know, the one where i am full of rage and ugly feelings towards humanity in general.
i have reolved to reflect positively on what happens to me during the day. i believe that an improved outlook will go a long way. i am sure that this will completely change my personality, but i think it may be worth it. i am sick of myself for being such a petty person. ok, i am not really sick of myself. i am ashamed??? not really, but i should be. i should be kinder, less judgemental, even if the person i am complaining about totally sucks and deserves every mean thing i say, but...that was the old me. the new me will no longer make grand statements like,
"so-and-so is out of their fucking mind if they think...."
"what the fuck is so-and-so's problem?!"
"that is some bullshit right there, thinking such-and-such"
and yet, so much of this hate makes up my personality. don't get me wrong. i am full of self-loathing. i believe in spreading the hate all around. and the world is full of plenty of stupid people....ok, sorry. got carried away there. time for me to do my meditating.......
today is the first day of a new me. a kinder, gentler jen. i don't know how long i can keep this smile frozen on my face.....
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