As I stood in a grocery store very far from home purchasing $80 worth of liquor and cigarettes, a thought struck me.  This is too much.  Not the money.  Not the liquor.  But that it’s a work night, I just left a bar, and I’m running into the grocery store on my WAY to meet someone for a midnight dinner.  This can not be healthy.  I can’t possibly keep this pace up much longer.  Something has to change around here.  I really need to slow down, take a night off.

So, I’ll try to mull that over.  After I party like a Rock Star tonight, and party with rock stars Saturday night.

This is the “dress” that I am wearing to a party tomorrow night.  I say “dress” because it’s not.  I choke on the word every time we talk about it.  Nothing that fits in my hand is enough fabric to be a real live dress.  Not to mention that I bought it in the lingerie section. Ha…  who would have figured?  I’ve never purchased lingerie before in my life, and my first time wearing it I’m heading out to a party?

We’re having a Rock Star Party for Ms. Jenika’s birthday.  I’m Courtney Love.  She’s going as my date, Kurt Cobain.  Should be an interesting night, since there will be no bending, sitting, jumping, or walking quickly in this thing.  How am I going to remember that after all the birthday shots?  How am I going to wrestle away cameras?

I just told someone I was happy.  Really happy.  That never happens.

I took a little time off from the writing thing.  The last thing I wrote… we’ll just say it scared the hell out of me.  I wasn’t even sure where I was going with it when I started, and by the time I wrote the end of it I was realizing something I hadn’t admitted to myself.  A little heavy for me, but that’s what this whole venture is for, to open things up.  Hopefully as time goes by I don’t have to battle an upset tummy every time I let myself feel. 

I’m sorry, what was this post about, happiness?  Oh yeah.

First of all, the abundance of naked babies in my life this weekend was staggering.  However, the person that thought this abundance of babies was going to make my Mother want grandchildren less?  Oh, you were so wrong.

And I went shopping, a lot.  I’m not a fan of shopping, but the girls made five hours seem like a picnic, even overcoming the hangover and bloody toe.  You can’t beat buying wigs and hula hooping your way through a craft store.  A great way to pass the time.  Even better was seeing Tatum’s face when I modeled this purchase.  She was horrified, and I’m the meanest aunt ever because I took this opportunity to grab the camera and plop the wig on her head.

And what’s that?  Shannon’s eyes actually open in a picture?  She is the opposite of almost everyone I know, and her eyes actually stayed open after many cocktails!

So, we went a little picture crazy.  Upon later investigation it has been determined that it was a very touchy feely sort of evening, and we all had a great time.  Even though I almost had a panic attack at the dinner table, but things that could have been horrifying went well, and it was totally worth only getting five hours of sleep.

I made up for this weeks sleep deficit by becoming one with my couch Saturday evening.  The combination of lovely couch and ignoring the phone set me off to a great start for this week.  The visit to my favorite restaurant Sunday night capped off a really great weekend.

So yes, I’m happy.  It feels strange coming out of my mouth, but I am.

I feel more like myself when my immediate gut reaction is “Oh shit!  I just jinxed it.”

This isn’t the first time this has happened to me.  Not being Christian enough has messed things up before.  The first time I lived in denial for as long as possible.  When his family stopped talking to me, when they acted like I was invisible at functions, when they left me off the Christmas card they mailed to our house, I wanted to believe that’s not what it was about.  When he said during our break up that he was becoming a good Christian man, and that’s why we couldn’t make it any longer, I stopped denying it.  Neither of us could be with someone our family didn’t approve of, and they were never going to give me a chance if I didn’t go to church.

I’d never clashed with anyone about religion before.  Why do people care what other people believe?  Everyone is allowed to believe their own version of how we got here and where we’re going.  This country was founded on separation of church and state, and I love that rule.  Unless I’m in your church I don’t want to talk about God or his son. 

The funny part about it is, I never have problems with this type of stuff when I’m in a church!  I was in several different churches a week at my last job and whether I loved Jesus never came up.  I’ve gone to my best friend’s church several times, and I loved it.  No one ever needed to know that I believed exactly how they did, just that I was there was enough.

I tried to stay in denial when things started getting squicky at work.  When I started learning about all the silly rules they put on the employees when they travel, when the office practically had a coronary because I said “tequila” to the boss, I tried not to see it.  I loved my job and it wasn’t any thing I could nail down, yet.

Then our office moved into the company headquarters, and things have just gotten more intense.  The weekly emails filled with verse about the church service they have in the building slowed down to monthly.  But they started mailing things to my home.  I ignored the first Christmas card that was hyper religious.  When two more came, I started to get annoyed.  When my boss demanded that we order Christmas cards for our customers that were very politically incorrect (”I want Jesus on the cross” were his actual words) I refused to have anything to do with the project.  When he stood up at our Christmas dinner and declared that this was “in no way a holiday dinner, it was a CHRISTmas dinner because we celebrate Christmas” I stared at the table.  When we ordered shirts for our customers and he had Christmas trees sewn on them I just prayed we didn’t have any customers of another religion.  But the day they mailed this to my house, I lost my shit.

You can read the actual text of the note they included on Flickr, but allow me to paraphrase:

Dear Slave,

I trust you had a great holiday because you believe in Jesus. If not, I’m here to fix that by sending you this idiot DVD on the company’s dime.

Watch this and you will know Jesus. You will no longer think him a fairy tale, and he’ll be your new best bud. You can’t get into heaven without his stamp of approval!

Your entire year is going to suck goat ass unless you get on board and start loving Jesus. So make the right decision, you fucking heathen.

It struck me right in the chest.  Not only are they mailing propaganda to my house, but they are using company funds to do it.  And it was as if they were speaking to me directly.  I believe in a god and heaven.  I believe in the ten commandments.  I believe in morals and right and wrong and that there is something out there that we should respect.  I do not believe in hell, jesus, or that the bible is a true record of history.  That’s not good enough for my employer.  I must believe in and love jesus specifically.  And just in case I forgot, they sent me this for Easter, and sprinkled the break room with confetti in the shape of the cross.

I can’t live in denial any more, they won’t allow it.  The reason that no one can drink at social functions, even though it is the industry standard and actually makes the company look ridiculous, is religion.  That’s why everyone freaked out when I mentioned in front of the boss that I loved tequila, he thinks alcohol is a sin.  (Fuck that!  I’m Catholic, we drink!)  The reason that no one wants to win the employee spot on the annual trip is because you can not take anyone with you unless you are married.  I would not be able to take my best friend because he is male, they would instead have me spend a week alone in a foreign country.

Every time I try to let this go, they throw some more Jesus related crap my way.  Is it too much to ask that I go to work, do my time, and come home to my own life?  If what I believe and do out here doesn’t affect what happens in there, I don’t see what the problem is.  Apparently the problem is with them being intolerant.  I am not kidding when I say that if they found out my personal beliefs, I believe I would be fired.  Yes, I know publishing this on the internet is a great way for them to find out.  I’m past that point, I can think of no better reason to leave this job then to be fired because I don’t believe the way they do.

This week they want a list of three activities we enjoy in our personal time.  Something tells me I can’t go in there and say “Alcohol, rock shows and sex.”  I feel like a dirty sinner when I think about my life through their eyes.  And that makes me hate them so much more.

Happy Easter.

Things I Wish I Didn’t Know
* Your name
* Hate
* That thing about dust mites
* Panic
* Her past

Country Songs That Make Me Cry (And possibly why I don’t listen to country)
* Bring on the Rain - Jo Dee Messina
* You’re Still the One - Shania Twain
* Top of The World - Dixie Chicks
* What Hurts the Most - Rascal Flatts
* The Dance - Garth Brooks

Things Reoccurring in Boys I have Been Attracted To
* J names
* Left handed
* Lee
* Too Complicated
* _ _

Things I Do Instead of Sleep
* Read
* Stare at the sky
* Worry
* Write
* Pluck eyebrows

Advice I Don’t Want to Hear Again For A Long Time
* Quit your job.
* You have to tell him what you want.
* Stop caring so much.
* Save your money.
* Stand up for yourself.

I think I’ve read a few too many of these lists.  At least his are funny.

Hi!  I’ve been moving.  All week.  Seriously.

All clean and empty for the new houseguests.  And they better keep it that clean, we have standards here.  (Bwahahahaha.  I can’t even say that with a straight face.)

Moving is the pits, but I finished today.  I smell, I’m having neck spasms, and I’ve been off the radar for three days.  How are you all? 

I only moved one bedroom of stuff, about ten feet down the hall, but it was still a bitch.  This room is tiny.  I had to get creative to fit all this junk in here again.  All of this stuff got moved out of this office not even six months ago.  How did it expand so much?  I’m stuffing things in every nook and cranny, there may not be room for me in here by the time all my stuff has moved in.

I’m also having a hell of a time sleeping in this room again.  Which is funny, because I had a hell of a time sleeping in the back bedroom when I first moved in there.  I’ll tell you, there is nothing like waking up three times a night sitting up straight and breathing heavy, and having no clue why.  It’s a laugh a minute.

The part I love about moving is that you find things you forgot you had.  Okay, I also love the packing and boxes and lists and labeling, I’m OCD like that, but there’s no packing for ten feet.  And you aren’t finding forgotten treasures when you are moving things you moved only six months ago, and have moved four times in the last three years.  I just found a bunch of crap.  Well, I did find an earring I was missing and some Super Sticky Post-Its.  You have no idea how happy Post-Its make me, I spent $70 on Pop Up Post-Its and Post-It accessories today.

The payoff comes when my sister and niece get here.  First of all, did you look at those beautiful faces?  Come on!  I think JoAnn and I are both in a place where coming home to an empty house isn’t working for us.  And she cooks.  And she’s going to be cooking me something pretty special, because I have to hose out the bathroom.  I am not a fan of the bathroom cleaning.  And I had to censor The Man of the House.

She has no idea what she’s getting herself into!  Welcome to the nut house Sis!

I’m going to scream my lungs out today. Sorry for the noise. Double sorry to my concert date if the beauty of live music makes me cry.  Again.

My demise is going to be much more untimely if I don’t stop being a complete moron.  This weekend I have:  left my house twice, and had to turn around and come back for something I had forgotten.  Left my wallet at the baby shower and had to drive an hour back to get it.  And ran the washing machine, with no clothes in it.  It’s only a matter of time before I take a swig of bleach thinking it’s yummy, or decide to nap on the road because asphalt is so warm.  I haven’t slept more then 6-7 hours a night in the last three weeks.  Only six of those hours was any good.  Sleep deprivation makes me lose IQ points all over the place.

If it wasn’t for the PDA and it’s near constant beeps with reminders of where I need to be and what I need to do, I would be (more of) a wreck.  It’s midnight and I’m no where near done working.  I took a four hour (involuntary) nap on the couch, and still woke up bleary eyed.  Since I’m not supposed to have any calories for the next eight hours I’m sure I’ll be eating breakfast for the first time in six months tomorrow.  I just went to pour out my juice, and poured out my water instead.  Maybe I can nap when I’m getting my teeth cleaned tomorrow morning, or in the car before my blood tests… oh hold on, there’s the reminder to breathe.

Dear Boy who I was thinking about while stuck in traffic,

Thanks for driving by at that exact moment.  Was just an odd coincidence, and didn’t totally freak me out.  Of course not.  Not at all.

Sincerely,
Girl playing the zombie song.

Lots to write.  (Hi, all three people in my life that admitted they read this site!  Your posts are coming!)

Going to switch bedrooms, again.  Gah, moving shit is the pits.  (Why do I have so much shit?)

Going to see a Top Ten band Monday.

Taking work home, stressed out, and never sleeping. 

Hey, you should just go read this post.  Too tired to form thoughts right now, and it’s all true, again.