Friday, January 23, 2015

Quick Best Pic Oscar post.

American Sniper--just not good. for many reasons. mostly because clint didn't do his job.

Birdman- VERY good. hoping it gets the love it deserves.

Boyhood- Good, but not for everyone. Long. very real's not for the typical hollywood blockbuster movie goer.

The Grand Budapest Hotel- hilarious. beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. well thought out and executed.

The Imitation Game- good viewing...acting was okay. Benedict was pretty good. Not sure why Keira was nominated.

Selma-- I learned something. so, that's a good thing. It was average. Didn't carry the weight it should have.

The Theory of Everything--have yet to see...but should by next week.

Whiplash-- same thing. hoping to have it viewed very soon.

Saturday, January 17, 2015


okay obviously thinking I could stick with this every day was far fetched. I always think I can do it all and I can't. I have such control issues. I get very frustrated if I can't get it all done. I have a hang up with not following through. It drives me nuts. I need to make my expectations more realistic. Even sleep. I can't expect I'm going to get much. Lately, I don't. The girls climb in one by one at some point in the night. One normally takes over my pillow. One I have to constantly be moving over. Getting restful sleep is difficult. But it won't always be like this. I know other things will get more difficult, but a lot of things will get easier as the girls grow older.

Life is good. I'm just tired. But nothing compared to other people. Complaining about anything seems so trivial. I am aware of the hardships of the world. People living in war zones, poverty, abusive situations....and I'm tired because my healthy, sweet girls climb in with me. My God. Get a fucking grip.

Saturday, January 10, 2015

ups and downs

Woke up this morning with Zoe on my back and Harper tucked tightly under my chin. I was sandwiched between my two girls and felt like I should note it in my mind. This is a sweet, wonderful moment. I loved it. I love it...and I hope those moments will shape them. I hope they woke up feeling loved and safe. My family is  not cuddly. We couldn't crawl in bed with my parents. My dad's parents were a different story. Memories of waking up and knowing I could crawl into with my grandparents...welcomed and loved. Those moments helped shape my heart.

This morning. My kitchen is an absolute disaster. I mean, frightening. And yet...I'm sitting here, writing and enjoying my coffee. I feel like I'm growing.

My winter blues has taken residence in my chest. The sitting elephant has returned. ??? Happened same time last year. This morning the pressure is gone, not sure why. One of the most annoying things about if you don't know the origin. Does that mean I'm disconnected? Does everyone struggle with figuring out their ins and outs, or is just the people who think too much, like i do.

I won't be sticking my head in an worries.

Thursday, January 08, 2015

off putting

Well, I missed a day. damn.
Yesterday I spend all day cleaning Z's room...and the loft...and totally redoing the bookshelves. Got rid of 2 big bags of books. Somehow January has always been a manic month of feeling overwhelmed with stuff. Time to purge. During the purging, I started listening to the Serial podcast. It's about figuring out a murder that happened in the early 90s. So addicting.

In case you are interested:

Went to therapy today. Basically figuring out my ridiculous hurt feelings. She does a good job of helping me find the source of the feeling...the helps me let it go. She told me I was good at trying to see the good in people--always trying to find the reason for their behavior. Yeah, great...but for some reason, it doesn't cure my heavy chest.

My goals for my 40s might just be shifting to my 50s.

Tuesday, January 06, 2015


I spent my day cleaning, watching the girls make a mess, cleaning up the mess...and then feeling behind. After days of putting away the decor, it is done. This is my life. Dad called today. He was just about to cross over the border to Mexico. I suppose I always wonder if that's the last time I'll talk to him. He said he'd be drinking coffee from his mug like mine. He was very sweet. I only see him about once  year now. Kind of sad. But at least they are quality visits.

There is something about watching my children grow...and feel badly that my parents don't really know them. My mom used to come all of the time...but now she is afraid to fly. Not sure what she's gong to do. There certainly does not seem to be any race to get here or anything. OH WELL.

That's what therapy is for. I go Thursday. I can express my  hurt feelings and she can get me to figure out where they originate...and so on. Oh how the world would be a better place if everyone went to therapy--and had a good therapist. I had a bad one for a year and she almost ran me into the ground. I had never felt so awful than after leaving her office. She drove me into the lowest of the lows. Plus she told me that I should get divorced. Ummm...I've never even mentioned divorce. That's the last thing on my mind. So, I divorced her.

Therapy is always good, I think. We are all alone in the world. Whether you are surrounded by people or not. We all have our private internal selves...the thoughts and ideas that we don't share. I turn thoughts over and over ad over and over ....and who wants to keep listening to that? My therapist, that's who. There is a comfort there that they sort of have to listen to you. It's awesome. I recommend it.

Monday, January 05, 2015

I'm tired.

I keep saying I'm going to get better at this and I don't.

I keep thinking I'm going to be struck with something great to write about and I don't. Or I'm too exhausted to think about it. Or I'm wondering how my thoughts will come across. I have a million reasons why I'm not writing. Mostly, I think it comes down to fear. Fear of showing myself...and my real thoughts and being received as odd. By almost 40, I'm not sure why I care. And, I'm sad that I thought by 40, I wouldn't...still care.

I guess I should find comfort in the fact that I'm not satisfied with who I am. I happy that I'm not done working on myself. I might think about it too much, but then again...I do that anyway.

Rolling Stone posted a story about a guy who wrote about his film addiction. I definitely have one. I find myself wanting to watch a made up someone's life rather than live more of my own. It's tiring.

Short entries are better than no entry. Every time I feel like writing, I'm overcome with fatigue. ?? Complete exhaustion takes over and I just want to sleep. Denial? Fear? Laziness?

My 40th year I should spend writing each day. I'm 5 days behind. Great. See, I already feel defeated. I'm going to try. Really. Don't believe me, huh. Yeah, me either, but we'll see. Whatever comes out, comes out. Boring, weird, irrational or over is what it is.

I saw The Imitation Game over the weekend. By the end, I just wanted to take a huge stance against all anti gay everything. By the end, I had tears streaming down my face and I was tired. Jason asked how I was...because  I wasn't talking...and he was trying to get me to order food..." look like you're needing some time or something." ha. I'm sure he gets freaked by my diving into a movie and practically drowning in my thoughts about it.

"I'm tired. Tired of it all...of all the bullshit...the anti gay shit. The WHOLE THING. I am. Tired of the fb shit. Tired of the religious shit. Tired of them not being able to marry. Tired of people who say it's a lifestyle choice. Tired of people who don't even know a gay person making statements about what they think. It's just so annoying...and I'm tired. Tired of getting mad about it...getting sad about it...tired of biting my tongue. Tired of trying to see everyone's view point. Tired of hearing how this or that says it's wrong. Tired of seeing things that make me embarrassed for the times we live in. Tired of judgement. Tired of ignorance. Fuck. When will this be over?!!! The fact that we still have such horrible race issues doesn't make me hopeful that it ever will be. As long as someone is different, they will be persecuted. It's gross and awful...and fucking tiresome.