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.