It's only Tuesday...really?

When the holiday falls on the weekend it messes up my flow. I don't know why.

Silliest thing Monday, took Jordan, my daughter for an eye exam and she no longer has a medical diagnosis. I almost cried. I know she thought I was being weird. She has had glasses for most her life. They told me her vision would never be very good, that she's never wear contacts (which she has for 2 years.) Today the doctor said she is 20/20 with correction in her right eye...with no turning. It was something that I was told would never happen. Still tho, if you've got a spare prayer keep her eyes in them. Maybe someday when she's a successful (insert yet to be determined career here) she can get Lasik.

It's the little things, eh?

So, you know what I want to do with this site? I want to give away stuff. Ima gonna learn me some Rafflecopter and make me some people happy. I have seen it done for profit but I keep thinking about just my friends that I know that would benefit. Fun trumps profit for me any day...blame my parents. I am thinking weekly, so you start thinking if you have any thing to promote and if you have something something you could entice people with. If you are not familar with Rafflecopter, may I suggest you jump to http://thesteadyhandblog.com/rafflecopter-giveaway-linky/ and start entering. It's fun really.

Anyway, I am thinking it wouldn't be until next month at the earliest that I would start the giveaways. I honestly will probably cover the first couple just because I don't want anyone else to have the disappointment of a bad result. If you are reading this and are interested by all means get in touch with me. Like I said next month at the earliest...

Tuesday...lordy it's only the second...I think it's this sudden cold that has done more to bring me down than anything.

One last thing...I am thinking about taking some classes. Adobe Illustrator for one. Although, I did this in that without reading a damn thing:


My husband has been whining for a logo. He keeps asking my brother, and I think the fact that my brother works an irregular schedule slows down his artistic efforts. IDK, though, if Ryan buys me a pen for my 'puter I have three hours a day to myself that I could figure it out. Then, I guess, I would be left taking HTML and XML classes because that shit is really interesting to me. I know, I am soo weird.

Anyway, here's to Tuesday that feels like Sunday but really it should feel like Monday. Good Grief!!

Revolution in Resolutions

Tis the season to be high minded. I have never really been much for making resolutions. File it under not making promises I can't keep. Although, I think it's more of an I make more resolutions before 6 than most people make all day sort of thing.

Not perfect, never claimed to be, although from time to time I do manage to amaze myself and others. I have been somewhat underwhelmed by myself as of late, but I am still not convinced a chain of resolutions will help.

Granted, I've never had all that conventional wisdom about goal-setting work for me. I seriously and nearly religiously used to do all that "stuff" when I was a single mother in college. I didn't graduate in the timeframe that I wanted or from the school I wanted. I was never able to pursue the advanced degree I thought I should have. Nothing ever happened, or happens, the way that I would like, the way that I intend. Gives a whole lot of credence to the idea that maybe I am not in control.

Yes, there are things that I am going to work toward in 2012. None of them are pertinent to today, and today is the only thing I know for sure is happening to me. I am not saying so much that people shouldn't strive for something, I am just saying that it seems like a lot of people get so wrapped up in the future that they forget today.

There is a lot of disappointment and disillusion in dreaming. Better to be surprised by good fortune than to feel like it eludes you.

So that's my resolution...to stay in the here and now.

And maybe lose 30 pounds ;)

Reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated.

It's a Mark Twain quote and I have been toying with using as a title for some weeks now. I don't mean to further scar my fellow VVMS classmates who remember the hell of those posters and no one being able to use a quote someone else was using.

In the words of LL Cool J, don't call it a comeback. Sure, I could use my own words, but seeing as 70% of my brain is song lyrics OPP (Other People's Prose) comes to mind first.

Happy 2012 everyone! We have put 2011 to bed (THANK GOD!) and now we build a new year that is better than the last. I decided to wait to restart this blog for that reason. I wanted to be done with 2011. By far one of the shittiest years of my existence...well, at least on a human level.

I have been thinking a lot about my original intentions here. I have been thinking a lot my strengths and weaknesses and what makes me tick. I have been really realigning myself and whatnot. It helps that I have spent the last eight weeks in a physically hard job that has afforded me a lot of opportunity to not think at all. I quit because I was completely disillusioned but couldn't put words to it...my own or other people's. It's a weird place to be. Everything going progressively wrong and all the fun being slowly sucked at lightspeed out of life.

I know everyone has been there where they just don't understand what is going on and they find themselves feeling like for every step forward they take they get donkey-kicked back three years. I felt like I had been making so much progress. Life was good, but there were strange inexplicable flares.

One of those flares involved church. I thought I had found a church that I would be with for a long while. I enjoyed and got much value out of the weekly services but when I tried to be of service it left me flat. People were standoffish. Little things were happening and all signs were pointing to stop. So, I did. We did. I still miss it a little. However, no one probably misses us as they perpetually confused us with another couple...even after nearly two years...so they probably haven't even realized that we are gone.

That's really were things got heavy. The whole what to believe quandary.  Eventually, we decided to just go to the church around the corner. I like it as long as I steer clear of the 10am service. Seriously, I don't know why but sitting in a "contemporary" service is like sitting in a room full of chalkboards being scratched on by Freddy Krueger.

The eventually happened after finishing two books: How to Know God by Deepak Chopra and The Reason for God by Timothy Keller.

At one point, I was reading them simultaneously. Talk about a mind-blower. Aside from starting at this new church, I find myself reading a lot more spiritually oriented material and even my Bible. I am up to Acts, and it is interesting to say the least. I find myself wondering why I didn't get most of this growing up. Seriously, there is a lot missing in church education. Anyway...

I am going to leave this post with this sermon. Call it a turning point, if you like. I got something out of this particular sermon that I needed. Granted, "gifted" has a certain negative connotation to me. It has for a long time, so knowing that helps shed light on what moved me. This is from the dreaded 10am but it's the same message I heard. That's right, 11:15 show is same as the 10, except they don't serve veal at church.

November 20, 2011 Barry DeShetler The Journey: "Mary of Nazareth" from Christ United Methodist Church on Vimeo.

More later as apparently I am holding up a trip to get iced coffee.

It's good to be back.

Maybe it just sags like a heavy load. Alternately titled, why Jenny doesn't write anymore.

The line is Langston Hughes, the poem "A Dream Deferred". I have been thinking about that poem a lot lately. Well, at least since the weekend before the weekend before last. Especially in light of my having posted:

I have this deep groove of thought streaming through my head that opens with the opening lines of "Howl" and rambles like a multi-ball pinball game through vast boards, grazing bumpers for meaning and laughing sadly at the new entendre in "Winning isn't everything, it's the only thing."

That was my intro to posting Weezer's "We are all on Drugs". That deep groove was caused by seeing a ghost of a childhood friend among other things. That's not what this is about. This is about me. This is about me thinking about a million things at once and answering the question that has been asked of me a million more.

First, in case you need a refresher...

A Dream Deferred

by Langston Hughes

What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?

I don't necessarily think it does any of those things. At least, I wouldn't describe it as drying up like a raisin. It's a little bit like an old boyfriend with a cozy little place tucked away in furthest corner of your heart but rarely brought to memory unless by someone else.

That is exactly how I feel about writing. To be fair, some of you are reading this thinking,"Er, Jen, you are writing."  Blogging is nothing. It requires little thought and even less creativity. There was a time, as people are very fond of reminding me, that I was a prolific creative writer. Poems and as someone one put it "those freaky, deaky stories." A lot of people, for a very long time, myself included for a little while, forecasted that I would grow up and become a writer. I can see how that assumption could be made.

The thing is that growing up isn't at all how I ever thought it would be. I always assumed that when I got older, got married, had a family that I would have those things to write about, to draw from. I don't though. My husband, my kids, this stinky black dog, all invoke certain emotions but I don't find myself compelled to write poetry, prose or even some non-fiction expose about any of them. I can't write those "freaky, deaky" stories like I used to because quite honestly, those were pure imagination. It is far easier for a 16 year old to write a completely fanciful and fantastic steamy sex scene than it is for me to do so now. Sex is far more complicated than I could have ever imagined at 16. Aside from the complexity of the story, there is that risk that people might think that I am writing about them. Or that I am reflecting some reality that I once knew. For the most part, they would be right. The truth is much stranger than any fiction I could conjure so I would be remiss if I didn't chronicle it. I am not really inclined to do it though so rest assured your secrets are still safe with me.

The last really great thing I wrote was ten years ago. A collection of poetry that I had intended to get publish. It was titled "...then I'd be the queen!" which was drawn from a private conversation, the first part of the sentence was,"If getting laid was the answer to the question of the meaning of life..." I don't have conversations like that anymore with anyone because we've all become less frenetic, old, married ladies. (Or divorced, just so I don't leave anyone out.) I don't know what made it so great. I still have a copy. I actually won a contest with one of the poems.

I guess what I am trying to say is that things change, people change. Some things don't give the same thrill that they once did. I threw away just about everything I ever wrote this summer when I cleaned out the garage. I let it go. I had to.

Sure, every once in a while, I will be struck with some inspiration that comes out lyrically but I am not ever going to be that thing you thought I once was. It's time for everyone else to let it go too. It only "sags like a heavy load" because people keep putting weight to it. You were all going to be a lot of things too, but you don't see me bringing it up in conversation. I don't ever want to be like that friend I ran into...lost...stuck in the weight of a reality based entirely in fantasy. Reality is hard enough for me without adding the complication of trying to be someone I used to be.

So, I don't write anymore. It doesn't give me the joy it used to. It doesn't flow like it used to. It stopped being something I identified with.Come to think of it, most things in life are like that for me anymore.

There's just no joy in my world anymore. I feel sick all the time. I feel depressed all the time. I keep pushing forward, but for what? More rejection and heartache. More of the universe laughing at me. I wish I did have some sort of talent in something. Some sort of time-consuming rewarding hobby. Something that would give me an edge in these stupid interviews. Instead, it is always more of the same.

So here is the thing...I hear ad nauseaum about letting things go and being set free. About clearing out stagnant space so that new things can fill in. So like I said, I let it go. But nothing has come in it's place. But then, I still do this so maybe I haven't let it go. So, here it goes. This is it my friends, my last post. Like everything else in my life, this blog has never worked out the way I intended. And it certainly doesn't help me to change anything around me, about me or inside of me. Nothing does. So why keep putting myself through it all the time.

I suppose it's been fun for the most part, but when you are the only person in the auditorium it is still talking to yourself.

These things have always been the same

I am tired tonight. Which seeing as it is night is a good thing, I suppose. I came downstairs just because I didn't feel tired. So apparently I am crazy too.

Someone posted something Knopfler in their feed tonight which lead to me listening to "Romeo and Juilet" which led to me listening to "Why Worry" not just one but three versions. Wembley '85, Prince's Trust '09 and this version I have posted.

I am in a weird place.

I do try to go with the flow. Be one of those folks who looks at life like one giant Magic 8-ball that always comes up "All Signs Point to Yes." Lemonaid out of lemons, the whole shebang and all that jazz.

There is such a state of cognitive dissonance, I can't even tell you. Just as a for an example...this job thing as I have begun to call it. It's a total mind fuck. People tell me not to take it personally but the judgement is on me. It's hard to keep up the ol' self esteem when you can't find acceptance anywhere. Having been privy to so many wonderful cattle calls and other group nonsense lately, I have come to a conclusion. It wasn't a jump. It was pretty well thought out and it is, all things being equal, the most logical answer. I am not an eastside slag.

I know it sounds mean but it is the one very discernible difference at these laughable excuses for evaluation my worth as an employee. What's really sad is that it has almost always been this way. Despite what people may think, I am not conceited or delusional. I really do know as much about everything as I say I do. I've never been a one-trick pony and last time I checked the only thing in life that was "rocket science" is rocket science.

It's just frustrating to see how sad the world is around here. And by here I mean the Miami Valley at large. I applied for a billing job at this place downtown last week, and the whole I sat filling out the app, I looked around and wondered if I should bother. I clearly didn't fit in there either.

People will say to look for the same and not focus on the differences. It's impossible. I used cognitive dissonance off the top of my head for chrissake! A lot of those are the same people who always told me that being smart would pay off eventually, and by eventually I think they meant at death.

I posted "Why Worry" because I like it. Because I put it on a CD I made for my husband. Because I put it on our wedding rotation. Because I forgot how much I love that song. I posted it for me but there is nothing deeply profound I have to say about it. The song that would be a better accompaniment is Remy Ma's "Conceited". I couldn't bring myself to post the original and I can't find a mash up of it that I think is titled,"I Wanna Be Conceited Non-Stop"

So there I've gone again and proved Bill Shakespeare right about life. Night all...

Seriously?

Today... Today, I planned to run and put my application in a few places while Boogie is at pre-school. Today, I looked forward to taking my daughter to get her learner's permit. Today, I intended to use the rest of my morning time to get this house in order. This morning, the car wouldn't start! It has happened before. It's a faulty passlock issue and there is a work around. I spent a while trying to refind it. Sadly to remember after wasting a lot of time, that I had bookmarked it on a different computer. I started to run it once, but noticed that the car was not cooperating. (The light should go out after ten minutes and it did not.) So, I came back in and played "Gardens of Time". I decided to give it another go, and it seems to be working this time. Fingers crossed. It is always like this. It has gotten to where I try to not really think about things. There's never anything that happens here without massive complications. If it doesn't start then there is the whole flood of attitude I have to look forward to, whoopie! Not to mention being grounded unless I want to play chauffeur to my husband. I say that 'cuz I know our guy can't fix it which means taking it in which means getting bent over for god knows how much. And since there is nothing to spare and no one seems interested in hiring me and I can't seem to get these parties going, then it means popping it in neutral and rolling it the rest of the way up the driveway 'til something can be done. Oh well...

Yeah this one right here goes out to all the baby's mamas, mamas... Mamas, mamas, baby mamas, mamas Yeah, go like this

So, yeah, I got an email earlier informing me that I am soon to be the proud recipient of 76 cents in coin of the realm. That's right friends, 76 cents! I know you are asking yourselves how you too could be the recipient of such an awesome sum of money. Don't be hating at the candy bar I'm gonna buy with my new found wealth. It's child support and I will be buying my daughter a candy bar with her father's generosity.

Now, before you go getting all mushy and nominating him for (absent) father of the year...oh I just don't know if you are ready for this. Are you, are you really ready? Okay, that is 76 whopping cents toward $10,289.42 that is owed to my daughter. At that rate it will take 13,539 payments just to clear the back support. Or roughly 1,128 years if you want to break it down that way. That doesn't even count the next three years of payments that aren't behind...but they will be. It's a sad fact.

So, to whom do I owe this windfall? Well, it's this guy http://www.facebook.com/DanielBaileyJr   Isn't that weird how I can find him BUT the people collecting child support for the last 15 years somehow can not ever seem to locate him? Isn't that odd? I must be some sort of God to conjure him up like that.

I would rather not get anything then to get these piddly slaps in the face from this sociopath. (Sorry, kiddo, but for him to do you like this make him nothing less.) I seriously could have gone the next three years and not received a dime. I mean hell it's been like four years since the last payment, not like we were missing the couch change this loser scrounges up to appease the child support collections.

I am here killing myself trying to find a job to help make ends meet. My husband is working his balls off to keep food on the table and a roof over our heads and this ass-clown is allowed to send 76 cents! Fuck him!

I get so sick of people telling me that I should "report" him. Don't you think that I have asked for his ass to be nailed to a wall? Don't you think that when I was single and struggle I questioned why he should be allowed to pay so little to stay out of trouble? Don't you think that I would have taken care of the situation if I could have? Honestly, I pretty much gave up when I filed for an adjustment and got my support reduced. I was making about ten an hour at that time, and had been some what regularly been receiving checks. It wasn't greed that prompted my filing, but when I got the judgment reducing the support by 75%...well, let's just say not everyone is special like me and can remember the day they lost faith in a lot of things. I remember crying on my dad's shoulder because I went from scraping by to poorer than people on welfare.

So, not only do I get to 24/7/365 love and completely care for  this angry teenager who barely ever talks to me and usually acts like every decision I have ever made has ruined her life...I get to deal with these ridiculously insulting payments and the people who collect them (and protect him). Fuck them!

Fuck God! Fuck things happening for a reason! Fuck fifteen fucking years of this fucking bullshit!