But I AM Enough, Mom

 Let me start by saying that I love my mother. She is my inspiration for being unapologetically weird and throwing yourself into something with 100% effort even if you barely know what is going on. She has always backed my decisions and helped me talk through tough situations. Through every stupid fight and every smart-ass reply, she has been here. But sometimes, she makes me feel like I am less than worthy.

Tonight, my mother told me that she is suspicious of my relationship. I have been with Eric for almost two years and things have been wonderful. We are a team through and through. Yet, my mother told me she believes he is using me. Using me for what? I have no idea as I am in massive student loan debt, barely make enough money to pay said debt, and the fanciest thing I own is a Nintendo Switch. She said, "I mean, he is skinny and you're fat. I don't understand it. When I was younger, it was all about looks. I just worry that he is only with you to use you." As if, merely because of my weight, someone couldn't love me. If someone couldn't see the funny, creative, caring person beyond the fat. If I'm not deserving of a man that cares for me because of my rolls. 

I initially laughed it off. "What could I possibly have that he would use me for?" I told her I am happy with Eric, that he cares about me and loves me despite my body. The conversation ended. The day went on. But then we all sat down for dinner later and I couldn't focus. I didn't want to eat in front of her.

She handed me a plate and I said, "No, thank you." She questioned me and I simply said, "I'm not hungry." Before my shaking hands and stinging eyes gave me away, I had to leave the table. I came upstairs and sat in my room alone crying. Sobbing. Wishing it wasn't this way. Wishing I was skinny so you would just love me the way I am. Wishing I wasn't here anymore so no one had to talk to you about my weight behind my back. Wishing I could just be someone that you were proud of. Wishing I was beautiful. 

And then it all came back down again. For one of the very few times in my life, I had been feeling like maybe I was pretty. But it couldn't last. I am back. Back to thinking that, no matter what I do, I will always be ugly. 

**Side note: I have not said this to many people, but the main reason I have tattoos is that I want people to look at me and see something pretty. Since I honestly believe at this point that something will never be me, I hope that my tattoos will suffice. 

Whoops

 I was flat called out the other day by a friend. "Why haven't you been blogging?" She asked. I laughed, she laughed, then we both stopped and she said, "So?" Honestly, I'm a lazy POS. I keep telling myself to grind and get it done - there's no other way I'm going to be famous! But DAYUM, it's hard to get to it after a day of work where I feel drained as hell. 

So here I am, back at it tonight. Happy Easter, if that's your thing. I think Passover is going on too. Whatever you celebrate, happy day!

I've been brainstorming things for a few weeks. Things for my future and growing an online presence. I thought of a really good (maybe) idea before coming on to blog. What if I started a weekly video series called "Shannon Tries New Things"? I have some ideas of what I can do for a few weeks until I hopefully gain some viewers to suggest new stuff. Nothing too wild or gross, normal things - skills, arts and crafts, make-up/hair, foods - whatever! It could be entertaining for people to watch, right? I guess we can wait and see how it pans out. 

I didn't come on here with much of a plan for tonight. I hoped something would happen when I started typing, but nothing really flowed out of me tonight. Not that things usually do - unless you ask my boyfriend then I'm sure he would say farts do - but it was wishful thinking that something interesting would happen when I started pressing these dang keys. Star Wars music started playing so that is always a plus. I hope the next addition to my blog will be better. Someone comment and interact with me, please.

Any kind stranger want to pay off my student loans?

Wild N' Crazy Friday

 It's late. 

I've spent my Friday night alone in bed watching a rom-com. I'm not complaining, it was exactly what I wanted. Well, not exactly, but that's Stardew Valley's fault for having connection issues. This was my second choice after scrolling through Netflix. 

LOVE. Who the hell decided that needed to be packaged and sold? What a dumb idea. I understand everyone's experiences with love are different but do people really think rom-com love stories are real life? YES, we do. I'm a full-blown idiot for believing it, but I can't help even an ounce of it. Holly and Liam are from different backgrounds and social statuses - they were never supposed to meet but by pure chance, the two pick the same New York City exclusive hotel party and grab a free drink at the same time. Their love must overcome the staunchy high-life family of Holly versus the laidback willy nilly life of Liam while the two work on advancing their both well-respected careers. Will love persevere?! Of course it will, but I am here for the ride!

I do hate how it hits real life though. These romance tropes alter people. We are sold these ideas that one person can fix another solely by being "different". HOLY HELL, that is NOT true. If the person you're dating has done something terrible to the last 5 people, it will most likely happen again and it won't be magically better just because your smile is genuine and you "care more". If someone says no, it's NO, not "no but maybe if I keep trying it will be yes". How about we also stop acting like bringing someone to a wedding you just met to make an ex jealous is ever a good idea. If something is meant to be, it will happen. Forcing shit doesn't work. Shout out to the one guy I tried to force into a relationship after 3 months because I didn't want to wait and see if things were real - LOL my bad, bro.

It really makes me think about how things are right now. I'm not saying my relationship is perfect nor should people follow what I'm about to say as law. It's just what I think when this stuff comes to mind. Again, it's late. 

Things that rom-coms get wrong and right:

• Romance is whatever you want it to be. It's not one defined thing, it's what makes each individual (I forgot how to spell this word for a second) in the relationship happy. What one person might think is romantic might not be the same for another. Your friend might think grand gestures with big circus-like shows is the definition of romance, but another friend might find a partner making a favorite dish after a long day the most romantic gesture in the history of humankind. Don't get hung up on the romance of movies. The real world costs money and breaking into an ice rink to skate around is a felony. I think...I'm not a cop.
• The edge of sleep, late-night talks in a cozy bed with your partner are PRIME. Goofy, sincere, deep - it doesn't have set parameters, yet it's always perfect. When you hit that good talk, time doesn't matter. You have work the next day? I don't care, this moment has to last as long as possible. We can be sleepy later.
• Relationships are HARD. They have ups and downs, there is nothing you can do about that because life is going to hit you and that will push into your relationship. If it's worth it, you'll know. I don't know how, but you will. 
• This is the most important - NEVER doubt yourself because some asshat came into your life with a bad attitude. Some people aren't ready for a relationship. Some people aren't ready to appreciate you. You can try to make it better, sure. But don't keep trying when it's not getting better. Set a limit. Once that is reached, leave. Harder than it sounds, I know. You are worth everything. Your friends will be there. Your family. Someone will be there to help. 

It's late. I'm tired. This post hopefully makes sense to you like it does to me. Now please excuse me as I go to bed now.

Alexa, play "thunderstorm sounds".

Redirecting My Life...Maybe

Here I am. A 28-year-old New Jersey native trying to take a chance on myself and spend $48 to start a blog that could possibly make my future better.

C A R D  D E C L I N E D

I forgot that I set a bill to be taken from my account on the due date and not the day of sending the payment. When I thought my bank account looked fluffed, I should have known it was wrong. Rookie mistake? Probably. Did it make me depressed that this is my life? Definitely! It feels like that should not be happening at this age, but it does – not the card declined, but the depression because of money and the gigantic foreboding bills. I must budget better, especially with the insane amount I pay to student loans per month. It is getting incredibly difficult to see a real future with this hindrance. Imagine being 28 and having a net worth of -$150K and for what? Two degrees that mean nothing to the job market. Two degrees and still only making $32K per year. Dreams went out the window a long time ago.

So, Blogger. It is me and you. We are going to work hard and get a following, gain loyal readers, give the people entertainment, and write at least three times a week. I tried taking a chance and the world said, “NO,” in bold font. No chances for me, but back to the grind of Blogger.

From my past blog entries, you can see my mind is all over the place. It will continue to be like that. My posts will have no cohesive theme besides a GIF in every post and the shining gem that is Yingst writing. You will not see award-winning writing here, but you will be entertained. I will be posting an ongoing fanfiction once a week or so along with whatever is on my mind. Maybe some posts for products I find out-of-the-park amazing or ones that are so, so terrible it is not even fathomable.

 

Vader and Palpatine, the sith cats, say hello.

Delusions of Grandeur

Before you read anything, consider buying my book! Please? Thank you? Fuck myself? Cool


I have such a vivid imagination and it has definitely made my life interesting, to say the least. I've lived in so many different stories in my head alone, not even counting the real world where shenanigans were plenty. A lot of people compliment my "creative mind" and often wish they had a similar skill. I just wish I had a more realistic sense of the world.

These ever-growing ideas that swirl in my head have only made it harder to grow up in the "real world." I expected my life to be different by now - to have more umph if you will. Books, movies, tv all pointed to adults as these well put together with their worries being things like getting their kid's favorite toy for Christmas or rushing home because you left the country without one of your kids. Sorry, bad examples - it's the holidays and the examples are pretty limited right now with the lineup. You get the picture, though. I hope.

I thought my start to "adulthood" would be...bigger. Better. Not wetter though. It's plenty wet - I'll spare the details. I just expected more. A different job. A different town. A different love life. Different everything. Not that I'm complaining, per se. My life now isn't all that bad. I have a nice apartment - maybe not a working vacuum right now. And maybe I have to wait a few paychecks to be able to buy a new vacuum. But a nice apartment. A good job with great people. A loving family. I have like 1 or 2 real good friends. It's not all awful.

Compared to what I thought my life would be at this point? It's garbage. If all went like my imagination, I'd be in a loft apartment in Philly with big windows and a view of the dazzling city lights. Palpatine, my cat, still exists. He just has tons more room to run and more window perches. There would be a medium sized balcony where I could install a hot tub and still have room for a table, chairs, and a grill. My days would be spent working at a publishing house, working as an editor. Maybe I could teach one or two creative writing night classes. There would be people happy to see me come home, like cool neighbors that would bring wine over some nights that we happily drink out on the balcony, watching the city. One of my hilarious and handsome male neighbors would slowly fall in love with me and we would make each other happy. I've gotten carried away now.

I know, Han. I know. But I'd also have like two or three best-selling novels out too. You know, no big deal. I'd also like the underscore/dash key on my laptop to not be stuck down after Palpatine chewed it off. Went to fix it after writing that sentence and I'm pretty sure it's now completely broken off. Whoops.

I know I'm still young and I have a long road ahead of me in every aspect of life, but I'm so impatient and my mind keeps throwing out these ideas and it's making it so hard to see what I have now. This makes me sound ungrateful. I'm an asshole.



Also, been thinking a lot about nostalgia. I was OBSESSED with writing fanfiction when I was younger. In fact, I was 13 when I started writing and it was fanfiction that got me going. Embarrassing yet inspiring? None the less, I've been thinking about it a lot lately and even tried to go and read old fanfiction but my god it was all awful. We were just a bunch of overzealous kids trying to write complicated stories with absolutely no formal training. It was entertaining though. I was thinking about doing something similar on this blog. Maybe posting a chapter a week or more likely posting a chapter when I remember/feel like it. It wouldn't be so much fanfiction to readers as it would be to me as I'm writing it. It would feel like a normal story to you as you read along. I don't know if that is something people would be into or not. No one ever leaves comments on here so I'm going to assume it's a good idea and go for it starting soon. Good talk everyone. Glad you could be here.

Back with a Vengeance

I haven't posted in a long long time. Awful blogging, I know. This isn't my full-time job, so calm down. I'm doing my best.

Wanted to post something real. Not my usual blabbering with funny lines thrown in for a good kick. Real feelings. Gasp! I know. What the fuck am I doing?

There are a lot of people that would disagree with me, but it's hard to believe those people over the adamant opposers. I believe, deep down in my unchangeable soul, that I am ugly. I don't like to use that word because I do find it hard to believe that anything in this utterly amazing world is ugly, but me - I AM ugly. My eyes are too close together. My nose is too big. My skin is spotted with scars and blemishes. Fingers too short, hands too wide, chest too small, shoulders too wide, feet too square. The list goes on. The one redeemable quality I might like: my lips are sort of nice. But my smile? Hideous. My voice? Gargantuan.

Because of this, I am left with a serious problem. I don't trust others too easily when it comes to feelings. I put too much trust in the strangers I meet on dating apps, hoping they don't murder me when I meet them for the first time in a dark parking lot. But the men that actually might have feelings for me? Crazy. Unbelievable. Why would anyone in their right mind choose me over someone beautiful? And you know what? Very few people have chosen me over someone else. I get passed over time and time again. I'm so tired of it. I'm tired of coming in second. Tired of being the almost one.

I have a great job, make good money, pay my bills, about to move out on my own, about to have my first novel published - and yet, here I am. Still feeling like nothing I do will ever be good enough to catch someone's attention. Thinking no one will ever want to put in the effort to make me happy.  And maybe no one will ever fill that role. Maybe it's up to me and me alone to make myself happy. It sounds sad, but people shouldn't have to rely on others to feel something amazing. Sex jokes aside on that one.

While I do relish the thought of being with someone - being able to enjoy the small bliss relationships give off. Holding hands in public, the subtle nod that two people chose each other. The hugs. The big, warm, safe hugs. Secret kisses on the walk to the car after a lovely date night. Just being with someone you can put all your trust in with no question. I want that. I want that so bad. But, it's looking less and less likely for me if I can't see beauty in myself. If I can't let someone feel without questioning it.

Maybe I'm meant to be alone. Meant to be the odd family member that brings her dogs to family dinners instead of kids. The person people get to look to and think, "At least I'm not them." Everyone has a purpose, so that could be mine. I'll make people laugh and make them cherish what they have. I don't know the future. Wish I did. I wish I could see what happens so I wouldn't worry as much. Oh well. I'm giving up looking for the future and focusing on what I can for right now. My writing. Crafting my work and making it the best it can be. It's all I can do.

What A Bright Future...

...with little spots of darkness

When you're little, it is normal to have a crush on your parent. Little girls usually get all giddy and say they will marry their fathers and little boys swear their lives on their mother being their only one. It's cute, sometimes a little weird if the kid gets too old to be saying it. Possibly sort of serial killerish, too. Who am I to judge, though? 

Of course, when you get older, you might start to notice flaws in your parents. I'm not saying they are awful people, just little things you would rather not have to deal with in a forever partner. Obviously, your forever partner will als have flaws, but everyone does and it is stuff you can handle on a daily basis without wanting to shank him or her. Or maybe you do want to shank them, but you hold back. Love: it's crazy fucked up.

This is a very convoluted way to get to my main point: I don't want someone like my father. Don't get me wrong, I love my father. He works hard and never gives up on his family no matter what. He's always there if you need something. Like the time I ran out of gas on the way home from work and he showed up with a gas can and a sarcastic remark about me being smart. He yelled at my for a second on the phone, but he still left the warm house to come help me out in the cold weather. I'm not questioning him as a person or saying he is a shit father. He isn't what I want as a partner for one specific reason. 

He likes to believe in the old standards for men and women. 

 

He is a classic believer in women cook and clean while men do the handy work. I get that sometimes it's easier for one person to do something because they are more skilled in the one specific skill, but why leave it up to gender? In my almost 25 years of life, I have never once seen my father grocery shop. I joke with my mom that my dad will probably lose his shit when she dies because he won't know how to live. When he gets home from work, dinner is done. He puts his empty lunch containter in the sink and expects my mom to wash it for him so he can make his lunch for the next day with dinner leftovers. One time my mom refused to do it, "You won't serve your man?" He said it as a joke, but then when my mom still refused to do it because she also works just like him, he said he doesn't need lunch and will buy food from the food truck instead. 2 hours went by before my mom gave in and cleaned the container and made him lunch. 

You are a full grown man. You know how to soap a sponge and clean your shit and put food in a container. 

I don't understand why my mother lets him get away with petty shit like that. She will wait on him hand and foot and then complain that he never helps. If you expect him to do something, then you need to stop treating him like a child. The worst part is that my brother has seen my father do this and now expects the same. When he comes over for dinner, he does not one bit of help. He won't even bring his plate to the sink. My mom even goes as far as not asking him for help. One time, I said something to her about why I have to work so hard and my brother gets to sit on the couch.

"Because you are a girl and he is a man. Girls are supposed to do this."

Excuse me? Just because I was born with tits and a weird triangle between my legs, I have to work my ass off in the kitchen while the men get to drink and relax? I call bullshit. Shove me back in and send me out with a dong. I don't even care how much I love getting dicked down, I don't want to be a female if this is the type of shit I have to deal with my entire life. 

I remember one time my mom was commenting that the dish washer smelled a little funny. My dad said it's fine and it's supposed to clean itself when dishes are in there. I told him that's not right and you have to run it with no dishes every once in awhile to keep it clean. He told me that's not true. "Put dishes in and run it. See how clean it gets." Yes, because putting dirty dishes in there and expecting the entire thing to get clean makes so much sense. I tried telling him that it doesn't make sense and he said I don't know what I'm talking about. 

Girls are allowed to knows things men don't know, dad. Did I mention that my dad didn't know what a hymen was? Had to explain that to him when I laughed at a hockey player's name and how the announcers said, "And there's hymen, breaking in front of the net!"

I don't want a man that expects things to be done for him just because he has a penis. My weird triangle should not limit me to being your servant. 

...I'll serve that dick, though.