self loathing

I was Charles Dickens in another life.

Or, maybe I wasn't him. Maybe I was that crazy lady in Great Expectations.

What was her name? Havingham? Haversham?

Havisham.

(I googled it.)

Remember her? The nutcase who stopped the clocks in her house to the exact moment of her betrayal at the alter and who never took off her wedding dress and lived in her rotting mansion with her crazy adopted daughter?

Is that me? Or, future me?

So, maybe I'm not the crazy spinster but I know something about Great Expectations. I am the queen of creating Great Expectations.

Always, always setting up expectations. Thinking things like "oh, this will be wonderful" or "oh, this is the person I will marry" or "oh, I am going to publish my book" or "oh, this moment will be the moment of all moments and I will always remember this impending moment."

And then it doesn't happen that way.

I spiral.

And it sucks because I wish I could just have a bad day and leave it at that. Why can't I just have a bad day? Why are bad days always accompanied by fear that the depression will creep back into my life? I am once again thinking things like "Do I need meds?" or "Can I beat this with theraphy?" and "Maybe if I stopped eating junk food, I'd feel better," and "I wish I could feel like my life is not out of my control."

Spiral down.

It starts with a tightness in my chest, a lump in my throat, a burning in my eyes. Anything to keep from crying.

Don't happy people have bad days when all they do is cry?

I don't know who I am sometimes, but I am not the famed English author and I am not a crazy spinster and I am not a boy with a stupid name and I am not a convict. But I know a little something about Great Expectations.

wg

pole-r opposites

Kid: Ms. L, will I see you at the pole?

Me: Excuuuuuuuuuse me???? What is THAT supposed to mean?

Kid: Um, it's like a prayer group thingee. At the flag pole.

Me: Oh. The flagpole. Right. Um, sure! I'll be there in a second.

Kid (walking away, says to friend): What pole did she think I meant?

Friend: Dude, I'm afraid to tell you.

Oh geez.

wg

wg

it sucks when...

you find someone you actually enjoy talking to on match.com, then you go back and check their profile and under politics, you realize they are not a match.

Sorry, dude, I just don't think I can date a Republican.

wg

climax

How does a working girl have an orgasm while sitting at home watching tv?

Try Tim Gunn on the Daily Show with John Stewart.

Oh, yeah.

Right there.

Make it work.

wg

so I made out with Harry Potter

Friday night sucked.

But Saturday night?

Awesum.

I was just sick of hiding at home, worry I'd run into certain people when I go out. I wanted to dance and make out with a boy. That's it. Just some vodka, smooching, and booty-shaking. Simple enough, right?

I went to a new bar in town. Multiple sips of my beloved vodka followed. The DJ blasted cheesy pop music; I danced my heart out.

Then, I saw a cute guy. I smiled. Next thing I knew, we were making out on the dance floor. He was an incredibly good-looking dude who's name I couldn't keep straight. I called him Harry Potter because of his glasses. When he asked if I was ready to leave with him, I said "Just give me one minute." Then I danced out the side door and left him clueless at the bar.

It was so easy.

wg

friday nights are all right for fighting

Question: Where do working girls spend their Friday nights?

Answer: On the couch, feeling sorry for themselves, texting their BFFs about fears involving dying alone and being devoured by the cat. (Note: The BFFs do not answer, probably due to the fact that they are out doing all things fabulous. Or, they are pregnant and sleeping.)

11:37 pm, Me: My life is so pathetic! Wahhhhh.

11:41 pm, Me: I hate romantic comedies!!!!! From now on, I am only watching slasher movies.

11:52 pm, Me: Oooh, 'Seven', is on Bravo. This fits my mood! Die everybody!!!!!!!

12:30 am, Me: Hmm, a Lifetime movie about a woman on the run from her abusive husband? Jaaaaaackpot!

1:21 am, Me: Whaaaaaat? Now the abused lady found a new man. Shoot me!

1:22 am, Me: WTF! Now the guy is running away with her.

1:26 am, Me: And now they are boning. This is just inappropriate.

1:32 am, Me: The new boyfriend is proposing! Fuck my life!!!!!

1:44 am, Me: Keeps getting better, she just had a baby.

2:01 am, Me: The FBI found her. She spent nine months in jail but was found innocent. She now lives happily with her new husband and baby in Idaho. Text me in the morning to make sure I didn't off myself and/or Zoey didn't eat my dead face.

...

7:33 am, Her: You are a stage five clinger. You should've watched Whale Wars and taken your ass to bed.

wg