Little Voices in My Head

A friend of mine called me last night. VERY late. She’s a bit troubled, and upset, and fucking pissed…and by the end of the convo, so was I.

Girl got done DIRTY, and I place the blame squarely on the shoulders of her ExHusband, which is EXACTLY where it belongs. Take my word for it folks, he is not only the cause, the effect, and the end result, he’s also a Filthy liar and an asshat, and a fucking asshole. So I get to hate him. Completely. Totally. Without reservation. I have pleanty of reason. Just no reservation.

Which leads me to a thought.

Men SUCK. Or maybe it’s just Husbands. Either way, right now, (for at least the next hour or so) you have a penis, don’t come near me. If I didn’t have wonderful examples of what a real man SHOULD be in the form of my Father, and my Prince, my Friends… I would write off the whole lot of you forever.

But then I’d be stuck with women…sighs. Great short term replacement, but…Women are insane. Insane yes, but at least we’re not low down dirty rats.

And I exterminate rats.

Screw me once, shame on you. Screw my BFF, Knife in your testicles.

–The Amazon.

Affronted, annoyed, antagonized, bitter, chafed, choleric, convulsed, cross, displeased, enraged, exacerbated, exasperated, ferocious, fierce, fiery, fuming, furious, galled, hateful, heated, hot, huffy, ill-tempered, impassioned, incensed, indignant, inflamed, infuriated, irascible, irate, ireful, irritable, irritated, maddened, nettled, offended, outraged, piqued, provoked, raging, resentful, riled, sore, splenetic, storming, sulky, sullen, tumultuous, turbulent, uptight, vexed, wrathful…All results from thesaurus.com to attempt to explain JUST how ANGRY I am at this moment.

The true problem is that I am not angry at an entity outside myself, I am angry at my…self.

Tonight, during what should have been a happy moment, I had a flashback. (Think Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, without the singular event or ‘trauma’ that inflicts said disorder. More like years of psychological abuse.) It scared me so much that I actually thought I was going to piss myself, and I had to come home to spend yet another night awake and crying. The event that triggered the flashback was me falling. Or rather, someone unintentionally rolling me out of a bed, and I fell. (no, I’m not injured, thanks for asking) Just my ego and my self-worth are bruised.

You see, it’s been almost two years since EED (El ExDouchebag) has been out of my life, and yet I still fear. For just a few seconds tonight, I had no control of my own body weight, my center of gravity or my equilibrium. (a roller-coaster, bungee jumping, hell, even swings I LOVE, but being out of control in that weightless moment scares the shit out of me) The only thing holding me up was my rapid response of putting a leg on the floor. The EED knew I hated being lifted up, or falling, and he would often exploit that fear when I displeased him. Often lifting me up only to deliberately let me fall. Tonight, when I fell out of the bed, I flashed back to a particularly heinous night when I woke up because I was being kicked (literally) out of bed by the EED and landed on the floor. I had bruises and abrasions for over a week, he kicked me so hard, and I landed on a very unforgiving nightstand.

I know, in my rational brain, that one of my Boys didn’t MEAN to make me fall. He was just answering his phone…which happened to be more out of reach than he thought. I even knew while having the flashback that it wasn’t happening now and that I was safe. Yet…my stupid, fearful self couldn’t disengage from the prior events. And THAT makes me angry. I’m not angry at the EED for causing this…ugly little head trauma. I’m angry at myself for allowing it to happen. I’m sitting here now almost two years after the split with him, and I can still feel bile rising to the back of my throat, and my heart rate is over 130bpm. All because I’m still scared of him. I should be stronger than that. I’m still afraid to go to a movie theatre alone. I shouldn’t have to avoid Reese’s Peanut Butter cups like the plague because they smell like him. I shouldn’t refuse to play RummyKube with my family because I’m too busy thinking about all the times he told me I was stupid for not winning, or getting angry at me because I DID. I shouldn’t be afraid to tell someone “I love you” now, because HIS reply was often “Fuck off”. I shouldn’t jump, scared out of my wits when blond men with a crew cut and moustache walk by. I shouldn’t have to be afraid of him killing me, or hurting my family, like he always said he would, simply because I finally got the balls to divorce him. I shouldn’t scream at my mother “DON’T TELL ME HOW TO HANG MY PANTS!” because I’m thinking about how many hours of ‘instruction’ I received in how to do his laundry…and the days he would ignore me afterwards for doing it wrong. I should be STRONGER than the fear. My own reactions ANGER me.

It’s taken almost two years, some support group visits, and a LOAD of self examining to say I was a victim of abuse. It was rarely physical, and somehow, I feel…less worthy to say so because so many have suffered SO much more. I never had a broken bone, a single cut, never even a black eye caused by his hands. The thought that I was still so beaten down, so…worthless…angers me even more. I know I am a better person than he ever thought I could be. I know that even if I did fall tonight, completely on my ass, it would have been OK, because it wasn’t done on purpose or out of anger. I KNOW without a doubt that someday, I’ll eat a Reese’s and not even think about him. I’m just pissed off because that day isn’t today, and I can’t MAKE it be today.

Carissa the Enraged

Normally, I shy away from commenting on politics in public. Quite frankly, it’s no one’s business what my views are, as I’m going to vote as I choose, not as you ‘convince me’. I feel you should do the same.

However, I saw something so…far afield of importance, so full of idiocy, so…rampantly diversionary, that it made my head spin.

The lead story on not only the 11 o’clock news, but my Yahoo! home page, my AIM dashboard, and even my Embarq updater, was about the Obamas getting a dog.

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!

I am fully in support of the President elect (sigh, it makes my brain hurt to say that) and his family getting a dog. Go for it. Get 20. It’s a big damn house and it’s not like YOU’RE going to be doing the pooper-scooper duty. However, does the lead story really have to be a debate over wither or not they get a rescue dog or one from a shop or breeder? There are even ‘Presidential Puppy Watch’ sites. There are petitions and letters being sent to him in DROVES to get a rescue, or this breed or that.

Are we THAT stupid as Americans that we have to ALL debate on this? Seriously?! It’s a DOG. I’m a dog lover, I love my dog. My home has had a dog in it since I was a child. I can’t imagine life without one…but if the President gets a dog…well…that’s not going to impact my life…AT ALL.

I would rather the news today have been about his economic policy, or lack thereof, or his cabinet choices, or hell, the price of tea in China because that can determine the price of tea for me here. ANYTHING but about the ‘potential First-Dog’.

*huge sigh* I probably shouldn’t expect any better of the ‘general public’. After all, people are sheep, they’re probably very concerned over who’s (potentially) nipping at the ankles of the flock…

“Fake it ’till you make it!”This was said to me this morning by one of my many well-meaning family members, and it infurriated me. More on that in a moment.

The Show

Blush, mascara, concealer, powder
must apply them all so thickly
to hide the lines, the dark circles
of life
Put on the face to face the audience

Review the script
run the blocking, hit the marks in your mind
memorize the inflection of each word
get the tone and tenor-just so-
so that the crowd falls into the farce

Stitch the skirt, press the shirt
cinch the belt tight, contain the bulge
so the flaws don’t show
shove feet into shoes that leave no prints on the stage

Time to give the crowd
what they crave
Start the show again
Show them all of the you that they want to see
never never let them see
what’s behind the painted smile

Let them clap
collect the roses
bow to the “brava!”s and “bravisimo!”s

Alone in your dressing room
when the throngs have gone
may you strip bare and cry
mourn for the one you hide each day
as you give the world all they ask of you.

I Forget
For the first moments
in the morning
I forget.

I forget the tasks of the day ahead,
and the trials of the day I’ve left behind.

I remember.

So, I updated the “Dating Carissa” (for those crazy enough to attempt it) page. I was almost tempted to put up the newest addition as a general post, as it’s more of a ‘dating tips’ in general blog, but some of them are “Carissa” specific, so on the page it went!

Muffy had way too much free time, so I’m blaming her for most of it. Enjoy!

(look on the left side of the screen, scroll down to the “Pages” section. Locate the “Dating Carissa” link. Click on it. Gooooood Job!)

Why do people say stupid things they don’t really mean, but they say them because they are part of the lexicon? The statement that brought up the topic was “if you can, that’s cool, and if you can’t, that’s cool too.” I know I’ve said it, I KNOW some of you have said it, but really, do any of us MEAN it? Hell no. I wouldn’t ask you to do something if it were ‘cool’ that you couldn’t do it. Hince the asking. Other examples:

“Catch ya later”—unless I’m talking to a trout, this makes NO sense.

“I can dig it”—again, unless you are actually HOLDING A SHOVEL, this makes no sense.

“Word, yo”–what word, and why is it half of a yo-yo?

“I hear you”—of course you heard me. Last time I checked, you weren’t deaf, and I was talking. Duh.

“I like her and all, but I don’t think…”—ok, you either like the person, or you don’t. If you’re going to make a bitchy comment, tell them. I don’t want to be responsible for the fall out if I’m talking to that person, they ask me what you said, and I have to lie. I suck at it, and I refuse to do it anymore.

“Ok, I’m not supposed to tell you this, but…”—If you’re not supposed to tell me, DON”T EFFING TELL ME. See previous statement about how much I SUCK at lying! Don’t get me wrong, I can keep a secret until the day I die, but I can’t just lie to someone I care about. I will be foreced to tell them “I know, but I can’t tell you a damn thing about it”.

“It’s not you, it’s me”—this statement has never been said with a straight face. Man up, *or woman up*, admit you don’t want to be with someone, and expect them to be an adult about it and move on.

“Get off my back!”—Um, I’m 5′10″ tall. Unless you are much much MUCH larger, there is no way in hell I was EVER on your back. The sheer physics of that are improbable.

“I love *insert name or pronoun here*, but I’m not IN love with them”—ok, this one KINDA makes sense, if we’re talking about a puppy. If you’re talking about a PERSON, you either love them, and want to be with them, or you don’t. There are different types of love, yes. I don’t love mom the same way I love a man, *cuz that’s just sick* but I don’t lie about it either. I either love you, or I don’t. End of story.

“That’s such a girl/guy thing”–when did activities/movies/books/whatever suddenly get a gender? I didn’t think that in the year 2007 things would still be divided by sex. I’m not going all femminazi on ya, I think it works just as cruelly on the guys. *if you like the movie Beaches, and happen to have a penis, who CARES?*

“Sorry, I’m just…”–RELAX people. Appologies are unnecessary at the begining of a statement. If you have a good reason for your behavior, great. Tell me, and we’ll all hug and get over it. If you don’t, I’ll tell you you’re being an ass, and we’ll all hug and get over it.

So, that’s all I could think of off the top of my head, because the day is young, feel free to comment with your own “Most overused, incorrect expression”. And please, don’t give me that “You’ve said that to me before!” bullshit. I know I’m guilty of saying some of these things. I acknowledge that I may even say them again. So get off my back! *see what I did there?LOL*

Carissa

WARNING: GRAPHIC CONTENT!! I’m not kidding folks; this one is full of graphic descriptions of a carcass and some serious cursing due to my anger. In general I had a fabulous, week-long, birthday. However, there was ONE little event that threatened to mar the bliss. Rich and I went to Union Point Park in New Bern, just to watch the birds, take some pictures, and just have fun being with each other. That part was awesome. But while there, we stumbled upon a carcass of a gull. This wouldn’t be unusual except for the fact that this carcass had obviously been there for at least a couple of days. The eye cavities were already empty, (except for a few opportunistic maggots), rigor had come and gone, and the stench was…well…I’d rather not describe that. I just ate. My anger was piqued. How could rational adults just walk by this carcass and leave it sitting there? Granted, Bird Flu isn’t as bad as most people, thanks to sensationalist media, think it is, but a carcass like that, in a public park, where children had been playing not THREE minutes before, is a health hazard. I don’t think I need to list all of the diseases that a normal, adult gull is exposed to in its daily life, let alone its death. Now, because I am a bit of an animal freak, I set about looking for a way of humanely disposing of this creature. I do happen to always carry gloves in my med kit in my car, but my car was about 300yards away. As Rich (who was a trooper putting up with my investigation, he even filmed it with his digital camera, that man just gets better and better) and I walked to the car, the bright idea came upon me that “hey, this is a dog friendly park, they have poop bags here” so I just grabbed a couple of those, wrapped my hands up, and proceeded to examine the bird. I’m hoping that by the time I post this, I will have the video available for all of you who care to see it, but until then: The bird was a female, adult gull, no obvious injuries; no signs of impact present, wings were in full flight order. So without a necropsy, I have no idea why it died. I can hazard a guess, as when I palpated the gull’s belly, it was firm in most places, except RIGHT where its stomach would be. That was a big spot of mush. Very distended. Either the gull was extraordinarily stupid and ate itself to death, *which is almost impossible*, or someone had fed that gull something it shouldn’t have been eating. Like Alka-Seltzer. Used to see birds with this type of death all the time when I volunteered at a wildlife shelter. So at this point, I am SO mad I can’t see straight. But like I said, without a necropsy, I can’t be sure, so my anger is mostly unwarranted. I placed the bird into some of the bags, wrapped up tightly, and laid it in a trash receptacle that I know was taken away the next day. (This was after sunset at this point, and the park was closing, it’s better than leaving the bird out for kids to play with) It saddened me to see that the birds that frequent the park have become so humanized that they’ll eat anything you toss up at them. They’ve become so used to being fed, that they have lost a lot of their own protective instincts. *heaving a huge sigh* I promise to climb off my soap box about it and not bring it up again, but damnit, it really pissed me off. The rest of the night was amazing, as were the rest of my birthday celebrations in general. Rich and I had a great time in NewBern on Monday after the whole “bird disposal”, and the Boys came over and we played a couple of rousing games of Scene It and Shout About Movies!. It was awesome. Tuesday I had birthday dinner with my family, and it was great spending some quality time with them. I don’t see them as often as I’d like to. Wednesday I drove my happy butt to Jacksonville to have dinner with Gwen, and we had a total blast. Thursday Chris and Heather had Rich and me over for dinner *OMG Heather can COOK!! Still loving the ziti Heather!!* And we all played Pictionary. I also had ONE too many Pina Colodas…but that’s a whole nother story! Just remember all, alcohol is truth serum, and should only be imbibed with those you love. They won’t kill you the next day. Friday morning it was back to work for me, and here I sit, at 10:17am on Saturday, just waiting on my break time when I can hook up my lappy to a Wi-Fi that isn’t secured and post to you lovely people. Yep. Happy Carissa.

 

 First Impressions of the Gull [0:45m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download (45)