See One Through Nine

Ok. My day has been so out of control that I have to make a list or I will never get it all out.

1) Payday. Aka: pay your damn electric bill day!

2) Casey is contemplating coming to see me. He gets off work at 9pm and won't get here till midnight. I have to work at 7am tomorrow. Hmmm. Wonder what this trip is centered around? I'm not sure how I feel about that. Like a piece of meat?

3) Found out yesterday that I'm closing on Tues. September 2nd. Folks, I will have the keys to my house in my hand in less than 5 days. I have to be out of my apartment on September 18th. That's 16 days to basically scrub the house top to bottom, paint every single room, re-floor the laundry room, rip the carpet up in the entire house, pack all my shit up, move out of the apartment and into the house, and clean the apartment. Fuck. Ohhh Mom!

4) Sitting at my desk. At work 3 hours early, because I'm an overachiever. Answering phones, going about my business I glance up to greet whatever family member or resident has entered and I see none other than my best friend Nick standing there! WTF! I nearly had a heart attack (In hindsight, I suppose if I was going to have a heart attack at least there were 2 nurses with in 20 ft of me...) I was speechless. I jumped up and gave him a hug, he was laughing. Asshole! Very cute surprise, yet asshole none the less. So the story is that they got done with this hoopla training exercise 2 days early and they all got a 5 day weekend. He went and begged for clearance to come home and see his cousin before he leaves for Iraq on the 2nd. They gave it to him at 1:30am this morning and he was on a flight at 9am. Fucking crazy. Who cares! Nick is home! Only till Monday. Oh shit. Wait. Case is coming tonight. Yikes!

5) Several of my co-workers advice has gone along the lines of "Casey tonight, Nick tomorrow night and it will all work out!" Wow. I'm at a loss for words. How did this happen? To me of all people? Oy.

6) I have had a weird feeling in my tummy all day. At first I thought it was the prospect of seeing Case. Nervous and what not. But then I confessed that I was nervous to Casey and he said he was too and I felt a little better. But I still had this strange feeling like something was going to happen. Low and behold, my senses are right on the money!

7) The fair is this week. Normally I fucking love the fair. The food, the games, the rides, the merchants, old friends, fair friends, cane polls, the 4-H projects, the concerts, demo derby's, tractor pulls and cowboy hats. But this year something isn't in me. I'm not that excited about it. I really can't go anyway because of my jobs. Sucks.

8) My sister kicked ass showing her lambs today. Woot! It's the blood. Were all very competitive.

9) My apartment is still kinda a mess. Shit. Fuck. And now Nick is here too! God. I hate people seeing my house messy.

10) See 1 - 9 and I honestly wonder how I haven't had a panic attack yet. However, I'm really not having work right now.

That Girl

Oh to be on an even keel. I feel as though my emotions go up and down faster than the stock market. One minute I'm so excited about getting my house and working on it, the next I'm curled up in a pitiful ball contemplating how I became the "fall back girl" to all the men in my life. "All else fails I still have Andrea." How did I become that girl? Wtf. I blame myself. As my best friend Samantha has told me "You need to learn how to not be in love." It's sooo true. I will always love certain people in my life, there are other people that I have to care about, it's almost like I'm so invested in caring about these figures in my life that no matter what they do to me, I'm still around. Day after day, week after week, month after month, year after agonizing year, I still love him. Say the word and I'm there. I would do anything for him. Several of "hims". Dammit. I hate caring so much. One minute I can't bear the thought of not being with Case for the rest of my life, the next I'm wondering about what could be with another huge figure in my life, the next I'm missing my best friend. I think that this has something to do with my depression. It gives me something to believe in. Not that love is something that beats all. I'm doubting what all these chick flick movies are about. Wow. I can't believe I just admitted to my depression. That's the first time I have honestly admitted it. Not that the panic attacks and manic ups and downs didn't give it away. I need to do something about it. I just keep putting it off, which clearly isn't helping the situation. I need to evaluate.

Describe Me.

Ok. Went to Canada. Drank a lot. Had fun. Back to the hellish working world. Fuck that.

Thoughts: So my friend Kim was trying to describe me the other day. Interesting to encounter. I'm an old soul, a lover of all music, an artist, a dreamer, a hard worker, a bitch, a baker, a writer, a renovator, a visionary, an illusionist, a theorist, a serial hobbyist, I'm brilliant, I'm beautiful, I'm me no matter what anyone things, I'm klutzy, I'm driven, I'm relaxed, I'm determined, I give up on what doesn't matter, I'm a planner, a deserter, a gambler, a drinker, a crazy young woman, I want things in life that I'm not sure I will like, I like things in life that I'm not sure I want to do (law, medicine, business) I want to run my parents company, I want to write a book, I want to get a degree, I want to flip houses, maybe be a realtor someday, I want to be with someone I love and have a family (but not forever, I can see myself coming to a point of non-contentment) I want to see the world, I want to be loved, I want to be fluent in French, I wanna kiss someone under the Eiffel Tower, I want to save a life, I want to sit in a book shop in London and drink tea while I listen to the British accents, I want to go to China and pee in a squat pot, I want to witness an Olympic match, I want to read thousands of book, I want to go to the Cannes Film Festival, I want my little sister to be normal, I want to skydive, I want to ski the Alps, I want to go swimming naked in Brazil, I want to spend a St. Patrick's Day in Ireland, I want to lay in the sand by the ocean and not think, I want to paint by the sea where no one can find me, I want to run away and be right here, I want to follow what my soul is saying for once, I want to understand the religious unknown, I want to study under a guru, I want to see the holy land, I want someone to listen to me, I want someone to say something I understand, I want the people in my life to accept me for who I am, I want more tattoos, I want my life to be mine everyday, I'm sick of working, I'm sick of being so concerned for everyone else. Someone needs to be concerned for me. I'm so many things, no wonder I can't just stick with one! I'm bound to try it, and be it all. Is this a "bucket list"? No, it has nothing to do with when I die, I just want to exist for once.

"Not all those who wander, are lost."

Just Maybe...

Boys. Yuck. Cooties! I fucking wish. Soo I have this friend who wants to set me up with this guy she knows. I checked out his myspace (God, that is sooo GenY) and he seems like someone I could get along with. Who knows right? Some common interests, some similar music tastes (he is in a metal band though, interesting, a CHRISTIAN metal band, weird.) he has a Harley (like a million bonus points there!) hes older, has TWO bachelors degrees and is working on a THIRD. Jesus. He already makes me look bad! He's eh looking. I hate being so superficial, but there has to be some level of attraction right? (I have a feeling the motorcycle could help his case here...) I don't know. The whole idea of someone new makes me scared shit less. However, the whole idea of someone from the past makes my throat swell up. (I'm beginning to think with all these ailments that men cause, they are bad for my health!) Lord knows I'm not ready for this, but then again, when have I ever waited until I was "ready" for something! It took me 20 min to decide to buy a house! 15 min to decide on my 5th tattoo. A half an hour to plan a trip to Canada. It's taken me 2+ years to move on from Casey. Maybe I should give him a shot. Just maybe.... (but we will have to talk about doing something with that hair of his!.. HA!)

I like lists!

I like to write things down. I'm a list maker. In school I made lists of homework and assignments to get done nightly. At work I make prep lists so the other employees know what needs done in their down time. I started making lists for my house. Things I need to get. Calls I need to make. Things that need torn out. Things that need cleaned. Things I need to take to the house. Services that need set up. I don't like these lists. Here's the thing, if I had longer to do all this, (16 days dosen't sound realistic. Fuck) At least my mom is going to fucking take over. For once I'm ok with it. If she wants to paint the entire inside of my house, then go right ahead. Who am I to tell her to drop the roller. As long as she is painting the colors I pick out, then we are good. Ha. Dad is there for handy work, and I guess I will live out of boxes until it starts to come together. It's all do-able. It's the waiting game to take possesion of the house. God dammit! I wanna start already!

Oh Amazon.com

I'm addicted to Amazon.com, and books. God I love books! I fucking love to read. I wish I had more free time. Fucking A. So I jumped on my ol' friend Amazon to order a book called "Something Borrowed", recommended by a friend Amy (we share a love of quick read, chick novels, with a lack to raunchy Fabio like characters.) I also looked at my "recommendations" aka: Amazon tracks what you order and gives you other items you will squeal with delight over, and eventually purchase. So, today in my oh so fabulous recommendations I find this book called "Generation Kill" It was written by a young 20 something Marine that completed a tour in Special Forces in Iraq in 2003. Intriguing. I bought it. Am I nuts? (For the love of God, yes, I know I am, don't answer that!) I'm going to be a hysterical mess reading about this poor kids friends dying, running out of ammo, being hungry, thirsty, sad, tired... Fuck I'm going to cry like he is my brother. Stupid purchase. That I can't wait to get my hands on. Oy. Am I allowed to send him a card when I'm done reading it? P.S. Nick is soooo reading this when I'm done. I don't care if I have to fucking quiz him on it, he will read it, if for no other reason to keep me happy. (He is going to bitch about it being about a Marine instead of an Airman. Fucking Wah!) End Rant.

Boxes.

I hate moving. I hate packing. I hate cleaning. I hate painting. Gah! I started packing up my apartment today. Lord in the night, how did I get so much shit! I've only been in my apartment for 16 months. I moved 3 times in 6 months. It sucked. And then I stayed in my apartment for a while. Let's hope I can keep my shit in line at the new house and stay there for a while. After all the work I'm going to put in the damn thing, it would take a massive fire, life altering illness, or a lottery win to get me out of that house in the next 2 years. I hate boxes. They look so ominous. "Your life is so insignificant that I can pack it all away and it will be like you never existed!" Yuck. I hate having shit boxed up while I'm trying to live somewhere. How homey is that? "Where are all your movies?" Answer "Oh in the 3rd box from the left, 2nd down." Jesus. Moving also makes you take stock in your life. Did I really buy that many clothes? Is it possible that I have entire box of candles? And another of picture frames? I hate unnecessary shit. However, the more boxes I pack, the more I seem to realize I have! 2 boxes of pots and pans? What the fuck. I love to cook, but I don't ever have the damn time. I suppose at least I have plenty of cupboard space in the new house. Did you know how much paint cost? Fucking A! Oh did I mention that I love to hang things on the wall? All over. My paintings, other artist work, metal decorative thingies, pictures, candle sconce thingies, little coffee cup artists decorator thingies, excetera. It always looks phenomenal. It makes the space feel more like mine. Guess what? That means there are about a million little fucking holes in my walls that have to be filled in. Fuck it! Oh yes. I hate cleaning. I went and spent $25 on cleaning supplies. Liquids to remove the gross stuff. That is outrageous! I'm scared of my bathroom floor. I think that the over spray from my "Extra Hold" hairspray does wonders to "Extra Hold" grime to the tile. The Swifter can only handle so much! I have a feeling this is going to be a hands and knees kind of job. Yuck! Oh and the massive amounts of hair that I loose daily? Drain. Correction. Not so drain. Gah! I hate moving! I wish there were people you could hire to do all this. Ah yes! There is! It's how much? Are you fucking crazy? I can do that shit myself! (As I cry "doing the shit myself" I curse my pride and penny pinching. If I can spend $300 on a designer handbag I can pay someone to clean this shit up!) Ok. I'm done. Until tomorrow morning when I get up and look at all those fucking boxes and get pissed off again. Fuck.

Second Smoke Break

I swear I'm bipolar. I was in a great mood all day today. Work went great. Everybody was rockin. No attitudes, no lazy asses, we were busy, everything was prep-ed, and I even got a second smoke break. Then about 3:45p I just crashed. My mood has deteriorated since. I want to go home, drink a beer, smoke a cigarette, and go to bed. I don't want to see anyone. I don't want to talk to anyone. I just want to wallow. Here is the interesting part, I don't know why I'm wallowing. Everything is going correctly with the new mortgage guy. I have a fun weekend away trip planned that is approaching quickly. Things are going well between Case and I. In fact I'm going to meet him half way on Thursday night. I miss him. I should be excited. Nick is happy in South Carolina (better than Texas anyway..). Samantha is going back to school. My sister is popular, pretty, smart, athletic, and young. Mom is being extremely supportive, and Dad is just good ol' Dad. But I'm just down. I wish I knew why. I have enough money for the moment. My family is all doing well. My friends are on the right path (for the most part, let's be realistic shall we?) Bla. That's just how I feel. Blabity Blue for no reason. Yuck.

Speaking of Release...

Life is crazy. I've been on the craziest emotional roller coaster in the last 2 weeks. Old flames, best friends, wine, beer, revelations, work, money, skinny dipping, tractor square dancing, mortgages, 2 year olds, and peeing in the grass. Yep that's the quick run around. I kinda feel more like a kid than ever, but at the same time oh so grown up. I mean skinny dipping with your best friend at the reservoir makes you feel like life is perfect and simple, fun and care free. On the other sanitized hand, I'm trying to get a mortgage to buy my first home. (Holy shit, I can't even legally have a beer in public yet!) I want to have fun. We booked a hotel room in Windsor, ON for later this month. I'm gonna live it up and drink it down! I need a little release from the stresses of grown up life. Speaking of release, I would love to have sex. With a man. Preferable that I care about. I'm seriously feelin' the drought. There is only so much you can do with yourself and batteries. I'm so exasperated at life that I want to lay down and give up one moment, and the next jump up and party. (I believe this is some form of pre mid-life bipolar crisis. Do they have good pills for that?) I want to be done with this house shit. I want to have some rough and damn fine sex. I wanna get drunk and gamble in Windsor. Then I wanna go back to being a responsible adult for a little while. That's not too much to ask. Is it?