But I am a Whore!

I have not blogged in what feels like a million years. Why you ask? I have been busy bitch...damn...get up out of my business. Actually, my routine has been all messed up. It's rough doing the walk of shame every morning then working like 12 to 14 hour days. Fear not...it's on tomorrow bitches!

On a side note, can you believe my girlfriend just said that I wasn't a good reality TV whore?! I'm like...who you talkin' to? Seriously?! What because I have never heard of some show called Hells Kitchen? Whatever. I mean, I was FAITHFUL to A Shot at Love with Tila Tequilla...FAITHFUL to America's Next Top Model...FAITHFUL to the Biggest Loser...FAITHFUL to The Pussycat Dolls...FAITHFUL!!!! Need I say more?

Confessions of a Sparkly Queen

As we learned last week, I am a "love addict". In addition to this so called love addition, I am also addicted to GUILT. I feel guilty about everything! Didn't let someone cut in front of me in heavy traffic...GUILT. Forgot to say "I love you" before hanging up the phone with Papaw...GUILT. Don't have any chedda' to tip the valet guy, but valet is the only parking option...GUILT. Listen to one CD more than another...GUILT. You see the pattern. So, this morning as I used my blow-dryer I was inspired by this guilt. Why not just put everything (OK...not everything) I have done out there and be done with it. So these are my confessions . Feel free to click the link if you want to rock out to Usher while you read. This will have a much more dramatic effect. Somewhat like a montage.

CONFESSIONS of a GUILT ADDICT

1. Sometimes I smoke a cigarette when I am stressed.
   
   



2. Sometimes I smoke a clove when I feel the need to smoke something else.





3. Sometimes I smoke something else.





4. Every morning when I get out of the shower I blow dry my hoo-hoo. This is something that I suggest everyone try.





5. When I was 8, I accidentally cut my brother's lip (he was 2) when I jerked a toy saxophone away from him. I hid with him in the basement, until he stopped crying so I wouldn't wake up my mom.





6. I don't always brush my teeth, and I never wash my face before bed.





7. In 9th grade I cheated on Dave DeBoard with Jerry Faber. Yes...we kissed, but it was way sloppy and gross.





8. Speaking of 9th grade, Justin "Somebody" felt me up in the hallway before school.





9. I cuss like an ex- sailor who was just made someones prison-bitch.





10. Occasionally I watch straight porn.





11. Occasionally I watch girl on girl porn. It is still straight porn. I don't know a single lesbian who eats pussy like that or fucks while wearing 3 inch fire-engine-red Lee Press On nails.





12. I snuck a McDonald's cheeseburger everyday during the last 6 months that I was a vegetarian. Except for that week when Wendy's had the Carolina Classic ( I couldn't resist the chilli and cole-slaw that was slathered on top).





13. I identify as a Christian, but I don't know what I believe anymore. I am too afraid of burning in hell to not believe in anything.





14. I cheated on a math test my senior year of High School.





15. Once, when my mother wouldn't get out of bed, I threw a lamp at her. Well actually at the wall over her head. She didn't move.





16. In middle school I found weed in my dad's pocket. I hid it in the house and watched him frantically search for it the next morning.





17. I used to go through my dad's pockets.





18. and my mom's purse.





19. I blog when I should be working.





20. Twice I snuck my high-school boyfriend in my room while my parents were downstairs.





21. I will use anything as a toothpick. The corner of a TV Guide works best.





22. In college, I once ate 2 McDonalds value meals then went home and had dinner so no one would know.





23. I only wear 3 pairs of jeans because I refuse to buy another pair in my current size. I wash them once a week.





24. I worry that bad things will happen when an odd number is involved; thus, this is number twenty-four. Just to be safe.

Finally Leaving the Office

Isn't it amazing how the anticipation of seeing someone can brighten your entire day?!

Back to the Practice of Self-Love...or Something Like That

Today has been quite a learning experience. So here are my big take-aways:

1. When you write hate-blogs about yourself, people who care about you ARE GOING TO RESPOND.

2. When they do respond, it is because they care. You need to accept their love and support instead of being a total fuck-head about it. (Sorry to those of you to whom I was a total fuck-head.)

3. Sometimes people surprise you. Even the seemingly emotionally unavailable ones have feelings too. You should always be aware of that before telling them to , "Fuck off, ass!"

4. I am scared shitless that I will turn out just like my mother. I project this fear onto others and assume they have this same worry. Many of them do not.

5. Finally, and probably my most important take-away for the day, you CAN get a spicy chicken fillet on the Chicken Club at Wendy's. Delicious!

DEPRESSION'S OVER PEOPLE. LET'S MOVE ON.

So the depression has lifted just as quickly as it came on. I am tempted to remove the last post given

Sitting in my underwear eating a chicken sandwich from Wendy's. Life is good.

The First Rule of Fight Club is You Don't Talk About How Fucking Depressed You Are

I am so depressed. So depressed in fact that I am pretty sure that I have lost my funny somewhere between the feelings of overwhelming hopelessness and the numbness that has taken over my body. I'm sorry to whomever is reading this hoping for a good laugh today, which actually makes the assumption that
1. anyone actually reads this and
2. should someone read this they actually find it funny.
So, it's been coming on for a while now. I've been fighting it like a scene from Fight Club where Ed Norton kicks his own ass, but here it is. I wake up this morning, and its fucking ugly face is staring right at me. What in the hell is wrong with me? I mean, MA likes to point out on a pretty consistent basis that it is a beautiful day, I have a good job, friends who care about me, a fantastic girlfriend, etc... so what in the hell do I have to be depressed about. I ask myself this now. Honestly there are times when I don't have an answer, and even now I don't fully understand it but I do know that something was triggered the day I heard about my mom. I can't seem to get myself to deal w/ whatever emotion that has set off inside of me. Even now as I am typing this I am getting tight in my chest, fighting the tears, telling myself to suck it up and get over it. It is what it is. I hate that I say that now..."It is what it is." What in the fuck does that even mean? It's a little phrase I picked up from my time w/ Brooke. In some ways, it makes sense to me...you know, stop trying to change the unchangeable. Focus on what you can control. I seem to use it as a way of avoiding. Whatever, I am not making any sense today. I feel so totally outside of myself right now. My whole body feels tight and numb at the same time. I am on the edge of tears, yet they refuse to fall. There is a weight on my chest like a stack of bricks that is getting heavier by the second. I am anxious. I am tired. I am lonely, but I want no one around me. I hate myself for this. Hate myself. How am I supposed to be a good girlfriend, a good friend, a good person, a good employee, good to anyone when the thought of moving from this bed seems like too much for today. Just totally too much. Maybe if I sleep a little longer I will wake up feeling refreshed...or...maybe I won't wake up at all. I refuse to be like my mother and sleep to avoid it. She has been sleeping for 20 years and clearly that is not working for her. I look in the mirror and don't recognize the person I see. It is hard to even look at this person. It's not me. I hate the girl in the mirror. She is pathetic and fat and miserable and ugly and undeserving of anything good in the world. Normally this is a secret I keep. I hold it..hide it. The thought of posting this is terrifying to me. What will people think? I'm sure that many of you see this as a cry for attention. I assure you that it is not. I actually feel nothing but shame for the way I am in this moment. I don't want to talk about it. I don't want you to ask me about it. Somehow I am hoping that by putting this shit out there, that I will release myself from it. Relieve myself of some of the pain and shame. My fear is that certain people will read this and realize how pathetic and fucked up I truly am, and they will disappear. I am too much to handle. I can't even handle me right now. My Effexor has been doubled and a lovely side of Xanax has been added. This is not working. I am still FUCKING SAD and STRESSED...and maybe a little sleepier. Awesome. Just T-Totally fucking awesome. Finally, let me end by saying that if you read this and it causes you to worry about me, please don't. Please don't worry, the thought of causing someone else stress, sadness, anxiety, any negative feeling at all is almost too much for me to take. This too will pass. I promise.