What I Set Out To Do...

I'm in a pickle. Not the delicious kind either. Assuming you think pickles are delicious. Shit, I know I do. 

I am facing yet another career change.
When I left Race Street I was so unsure of what the future held. I am a long term job type of girl and in the last few years I have had about 3 different jobs. 

My current job I will have been at for a year in April. I feel it in my bones that the gig is up. I just ordered my transcripts from State and just that alone makes me feel like I am headed in the right direction. 

Finally.
In my mid-30's.
I see the light.

It's time to take action. Honestly, I just need to come to fucking terms with my life and the poor decisions I have made. Taking ownership is the hardest thing. 

I have made a myriad of excuses as to why I have continued to slack on myself. Don't believe me? A part of me hella wants to list them. Why? Maybe to shed myself of them, to own them once and for all and be fucking done, just done with them. And then another part of me is like hell no that might bite me in the ass later... accountability is key. But I am barely starting this journey with it... 

Truthfully a lot of it has been my fault. I have let other's shortcomings become mine. I've been complacent when I should have been enraged. 

I need to be an example for my children. They are entering the "old enough to remember phase" and I need to up my game, straight up.

It's hard as fuck being a mom and going back to school and following your dreams and all that shit when you have, for the last 13 years, aggressively set aside your own personal wants for others around you. 

How do I find myself again? How do I find what the fuck it is I really want to do with my life?

I thought my 30's were going to be fun. And in a way, I guess you can say this is fun. A different kind of fun. I have a chance to reinvent myself and be a better ass motherfucking me. When it can still count for something cause let's face it, trying to find yourself and your journey in your 40's, 50's & 60's, although extremely courageous and commendable, can also be laughable and sad. 

So here's to gobbling pickles and showing them who's boss. I'm sliding into home, players.

Part 1

Always seeking attention, she angrily grabbed her bag assured this altercation would finally be the last. Assuming this asshole's passiveness was driven from his apathetic attitude


HER: 'You're fucken serious right now?'
HIM: 'I don't know what your talking about...'
HER: 'I'm sitting here practically on my knees and obviously in denial about the person I thought you were. Hoping that the part of you that cares shit about me would apologize for doing what you have done.'
HIM: 'You're really delusional if you think talking that way is gonna get an apology out of me.'
HER: 'Seriously, I could fucken slap you right now.'


Bothered by his begrudging ways, belittled from her begging, and broken in bits from bitter betrayal. She partly believed his bigotry had been cured. Bereaving this bond would be hard.


HIM: 'You know, that's your problem. You talk like an angry teenage boy.'
HER: 'Trust me considering what the fuck is going on right now, talking like a teenage boy is the LEAST of my damn problems.'
HIM: 'I don't know what stories you have built in your mind, but I can tell you right now NONE of them are true.'
HER: 'Really?? For REALS?? You're gonna insult me that way? Well why don't you and your infinite genius ass mind help my poor little second-class brain understand then??'
HIM: 'I can't, not right now. I haven't got the words yet and it's still too soon.'


She carefully contemplated all counter blows conscious that no amount of clever come backs could erase what's already been spoken. Consumed with emotion she was completely aware that cultivating any type of caring from this creep would prove pointless.


HER: 'So that's it? That's my spectacular answer? I have been wasting my fucken time with you! Why couldn't you be a damn man and come to me FIRST?!'
HIM: 'This wasn't a thought out elaborate plan that needed your approval. It just happened and I didn't mean to hurt you. Or anyone for that matter...'
HER: 'How conveniently fucken typical. You didn't mean to hurt me?? Too late for fucken that and really when I think about this shit ass relationship that's all you have ever done is hurt me...'
HIM: 'Well then why did you stay in it then?'
HER: 'You want a bullshit answer or the truth? Cause I can give you what you've been giving me all these years. BULLSHIT! I really can't even believe you have the nerve to talk to me that way.'


Down to the depths of her soul she knew deeply now that the demise was near. Dammit how did this happen? Deciding to diverge the disillusioned heart swelling in her chest, she deliberately dumped her demeanor and leveled with him.


HER: 'You know what, I'm not gonna do this with you anymore. I know this fucken cycle I know this damn routine. You do this shit all the time. You are so fucken predictable it's pathetic. I am at a turning point with you.'
HIM: 'I'm pathetic? You just confessed that you have no idea why you have stayed with me this long because all I have done is treat you like shit. At least I can say more than that about why I stayed in this relationship.
HER: 'Really? I wish I could fucken say I didn't care why or that I am not in the least bit interested to know why you did because I think you're just a lazy prick that was too coward and not man enough to face me and be honest....
HIM: 'I loved you.'
HER: 'LOVED?????'
HIM: 'LOOVVVVVEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!! Dammit!!'
HER: 'You disgust me...'

Beautiful Disaster (Project)

Last night started off beautifully. For starters she hadn't cried from her recent traumatizing break up which was quite an achievement considering that was how she had been normally spending her weekends. She drank an ice cold beer while she dolled and primped herself for the nights adventure. It had been a while since she had gone out this way. Her relationship had consumed every moment of her life. She wanted to wear the jeans she always wore and be comfy but decided she was feeling frisky and opted for the sexy skirt instead. She slipped on her 'special occasion' illegal leopard heels while silently praying for her feet asking God to give them strength, longevity and endurance for the hours ahead. She was filled with an excitement she almost forgot that she was even capable of feeling.

Undoubtedly, she absolutely missed nights like these. Nights where she took her sweet time getting ready. When every strand of hair landed perfectly around her face. Nights when her eyebrows matched in length and arc. When her foundation or mascara was neither clumpy or blotchy simply blended to perfection. Nights when she could leave her house with out the heavy burden of sanitary napkins. When she didn't have to drive and when she knew she wouldn't have to pay much either.

Protection in her clutch, lip gloss poppin', I.D. ready, she steps outside to smoke a cigarette while waiting for her comrades. Calmly exhaling her first drag feeling the smooth toxins relax her excitement as she imagines all the things they could and would get into. Reassuring herself that this is exactly what she needed.

All the rest she remembers in fragments like a movie reel with scenes snipped out every so often and then taped back together with the part missing always remaining a mystery. She knew they had stopped at the local sushi spot for Saki Bombs, Dragon Rolls, and her favorite Miso Soup. She knew they had went to a bar where a sucker for pretty girls on a highway of mayhem way out of his league bought them all drinks. They shared a few laughs and as a reward for his drinks her friend drug him to the middle of the dance floor jiving around him while he danced with his arms in the air like a drowning child with up syndrome.

They hopped in a cab that reeked of spices and body odor. They teased the cabby and asked him sexy questions he was way too shy to answer, gave him a tip and told him Target had Axe on sale. They stammer into their destination and that's where the next scene is cut. She flashes in and out of familiar settings. People, liquor, fancy girls, fancy furniture, fancy boys, couch, music, laughter, jokes, kitchen, beer, shots, bathroom, conversations with strangers, debates with friends, shoving, back yard smoke breaks, red wine, boys fighting, girls dancing, picture frames breaking, neighbor's yelling, snooping through bedrooms, taking pictures, falling down, removing shoes, snooping through fridge and back yard kisses!! She KISSED her friend! UGGHHHH!!! Embarrassing... She vows to pretend she doesn't remember that one.

Sitting on her bed she tries her hardest not to cry or cringe with shame. Although no one is around, she finds it hard to breathe in the presence of her sober mind. She seeks her memory desperately asking frantic questions; Did she dance with him? Did she really drink that much? Had she confessed her deepest secret to her closest sidekick? Did she do her famous 'dance'? The one that she is deeply embarrassed of, the one her friends never stop her from doing? How did she get home? Why is she alone? Did she really wipe her butt with their towels? She searches more deeply and more intensely.

Why do these things happen to her? Why the fuck won't she learn her lesson? How many times had she been at this same exact point of low? Her hangover is so fierce she can hardly get a grip on reality. As she ventures to the furthest part of her memories from last night she reaches for her phone. The part she had been dreading. She turns it on. She fishes for any incriminating evidence. Please, please, please don't let their be a text to him. Please tell me I didn't drunk text him she begs herself subconsciously already knowing the answer. Having seen in her phone what her heart already knew, she cries and solemnly swears to never, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever drink like that again.