Just waiting. I hate waiting. Patience was not a virtue I was gifted with. Ah well, everything good is worth waiting for, right?
On a completely different note, I've started riding my bike (pedal bike, still looking for my motorcycle) down to the private beach area in my parents neighborhood. Every night. It's about a mile, round trip. Anyway, I ride down there to watch the sun set. It gives me time to think, time to plan. Let's me sort out all the things going on in my head. The view ain't half bad either:
*hugs and smooches* To all that I love and miss. And to the ones I don't? A great big one finger salute.
So... wrinkles. I haz them. Just now noticing really. But smiling into the mirror, and when I stop... huh...those lines are still there!
I fucking LOVE them. I want to name each of them, take them to a casual lunch, and consider them my BFF's. I wanna give them all a good solid hand shake. For 4 seconds straight. Kinda a, "Hey! Thanks for being there!" type thing.
If I didn't dye ma hair, I'd prolly have greys to thank as well. Sadly, none. And I shave all the rest of my body hair, so no tale-tell signs there.
I'd never thought I'd see 34. And truthfully, I didn't want to. I've seen people grow up, grow old, and die. Fuck THAT. Lemmie die young and leave a pretty corpse. Apparently...that's not happening in the near future, barring auto accidents or tragic shark attacks.
Fine. So I gotta live. I'm not unhappy at the moment. My heart is doing a retarded looking happy dance, so there's that. So yeah. I love my wrinkles. They're pretty damn awesome, actually.
Besides, I still get carded for smokes, beer, and clubs.....so I really shouldn't complain, eh?
"As long as you don't get butt wrinkles like VB you are golden!"- FLPhotoGuy
Tuesday, April 2, 2013, 5:22:18 PM- Epicly happy
It's just that kinda day. Happy I'm alive, happy I'm loved. Just.....disgustingly happy. My cheeks hurt from smiling so much.
In a month n a half, me and my parents are going on a month long road trip. Spending a few days in Alabama visiting cousins, then up to Ohio to help my lil sister move from her dorms to an apartment. We're gonna stop by the football hall of fame, whooohoooo!! Mosey on over to Missouri to visit Rubensredd and pick up the rest of my shit I couldn't take when I left. Then we'll take our sweet time headed back down south, sightseeing through Arkansas and Tennessee. I love those hollers n hills.
When we get back to Florida, I'll be starting back with my old company. Hopefully speed tracked back into management. Everything I've been planning for and dreaming of looks like it's coming through.
It's a beautiful day. I'm off to do some running around, then I'm planning on beers and some topless sunbathing this afternoon. It's a rough life, I'm telling ya!
It did get a lil chilly here, for a day or so. Last week I decided to spend the day in the backyard, hoping to rid myself of my pasty white skin, so I can actually enjoy the beach as it's meant to. In a bikini. But I think it's sacrilege for a local to appear on the beach whiter than the tourists. *nods*
So, I had my book, my smokes, my phone, and a bottle of oil. I was set!
Of course, I burned the shit outta ma back, and my chest and tummy, but I'm Irish, so that's normal. Luckily it turns to tan. That weekend my old hometown in MO got 13 inches of snow. I consider myself very very lucky. And I totally wonder why no one up there had the least bit of pity on me for my burn. *smirk*
Sunday, March 17, 2013, 5:48:06 AM- Hope and Change?
It's been....exactly 50 days since my life was turned upside down and spun around backwards. So much has happened. A trillion little things, to go along with the 4 big ones. I said enough, and ended a 5 year relationship. I quit my job, and I moved back home.
At 34 years of age, I find myself living with my parents, dependent on them for a vehicle. I have my job. Which is only a means to an end. I have my clothes, my shoes, a few DVD's, some books. But I have so much more than that, that can't be counted, boxed, shipped, or sorted.
I have my sense of self back. I'm my own person. And, by fuck, I'm strong. I'm talented. I can make people smile. I can love, and be loved. Hell, I'm a damn good cook too!
I am no longer afraid. Of anything (except spiders, they still scare the fuck outta me...and sometimes the dark, but that's so totally another blog). I talk to people. I flirt. I notice a wiggle in my hips when I walk, and just smile and wave when it get's whistled at.
I am at peace. My nights are spent with family, or friends, or just watching past seasons of Hell's Kitchen. No longer am I up worrying. No longer am I talking myself out of eating a hand full of pills just to let it all go. No longer am I thinking a gun in the mouth would make everything better for everyone. No. I'm content. I'm peaceful. Dare I say it? I'm motherfucking Zen.
Not saying my life is perfect, by any means. Dude, I'm living WITH MY PARENTS. I drive my dad's truck. I have a shit job that will go no where, despite my manager and store manager hinting at a promotion.
But there's hope. I have hope, for love. Hope, for that fairy tale. Hope, that in time, I'll be even better than I am now. It's right there. I can see it. I just have to argue with time until I can reach it.
Anyway, that's my 50 day blog. I think this quote sums it up best, "It took a funeral to make me feel alive"....