Television deaths

This apartment has become the land of dead televisions. Which is ironic, since I made it a point to not watch or own a television, or multiple televisions. And here, in the last two days, two perfectly good working televisions have left this life with us. They both just sort of faded away. One of them was playing a Sons of Anarchy episode, another one was playing a really random Netflix movie. This might have to do with the fact that there has been a lot of paranormal activity in our house lately; isn't that type of thing supposed to drain or mess up electronics?? Oh well, back to sewing and making art instead of Jax Teller when I get bored.

The American dream is soaring, soaring like it's never soared before

I got married on Sunday, it was great.
Everyone who came had a great time, and a lot of people I talked to after the ceremony told me that they cried. Even on such short notice, almost all of our friends we invited came. But, except for my father and his wifey, only my mother's side of the family showed up. Basically, everyone who was there, was extremely happy to be there, and none of the girls had to wear anything they didn't want to just because some stuck up princess bride wanted them to wear something that she wanted them to wear. I didn't force tomboys into dresses, I didn't have bridesmaids, nobody dressed up on my behalf. Everything was done from the heart, no big fancy price tags attached: I do not buy in to something as sacred as love being an occasion we must spend thousands of dollars on. I also refuse to wear diamonds. True love is free, the best things in life are free, and I refuse to symbolize something as amazing as our love with a material object. Furthermore, the path in which those expensive diamonds were acquired most likely has blood all over its trail; our peaceful union will not have that issue to deal with.

The ceremony was performed on the day before the eve of the new moon, the Chinese New Year, enter the year of the Dragon. It was mild and misty rainy, a bit foggy outside. Coolest wedding ever. Our American Dream is soaring.

Snow?

Although I hate the snow, for my daughter's sake, I am sad it hasn't really dumped down on us this winter season. No big snow men have visited our little yard yet. Yes, there is still the rest of January and February. Keeping my hopes up.

I remember one year when it snowed, I was a little girl wearing a big and puffy blue snow suit, wading through an insanely deep yard full of snow with precaution, trying to feel with my foot where the ledge for the yard's end was, a little bit scared because my feet were numb from the cold. Fell off the ledge and busted my chin.

it's not his fault he's a fuck up.

So is it the birds' fault for the big bloody feather mess? Or as for the telephone poles, that since there are birds flying around, telephone wires should not exist because it is too tempting for the birds to fly into them? It's all the telephone poles' fault. It should be illegal for the telephone wires to exist because of the disastrous and messy temptation that ensues year after year? Telephone wire = disaster of the pigeons. Big and bloody feather mess. Down with the telephone poles, lets make a big bon-fire. Ha, a big bone-fire made out of all those bloody pigeon feathers.

I left my car unlocked, so it is my fault that the junky can feed his addiction by stealing my shitty car stereo/tape player. I, clean and sober, enable ten seconds of crack-induced bliss. It's all my fault that there is this horrible blight upon society. I need to do more, right? I'll just own nothing of value.... or is it my Toyota's fault for not reminding me that I needed to lock the door last night? He (my Toyota) is in jail right now. He will be chilling with all the other locked up and decrepit junk-yard cars for a few days so he can realize just how good he has it with me on the outside in normal society. That will make him think twice next time he thinks that he shouldn't be reminding me he's unlocked, that bastardo. He can eat all that shitty junk-yard car 5W-30 until his teeth fall out, fuck him. He needs to get his priorities straight. I need reliable transportation or else I'M TELLING MOM.

Yea, it's nice to blame others when we fuck up, but really, doesn't that just constitute another address on the avenue Fuck-up? Why try to escape the fact that you fucked up? It makes you look bad-ass if you are able and willing to talk about and call out attention to your fuck up. It makes you look like a sorry ass loser if you try to explain away and place blame on other forces and people besides yourself for the qualities that surround your life and the direction that it is going in. We are at the helm of our ship, turning the wheel and deciding which island and things to acquire and accomplish.

It's never someone else's fault that you went to, 'that one island where the natives like to eat people and now you are out a left limb.' It sucks limping around, but get over it and get over yourself, that's just how it's going to be from now on.

Or, you can go retreat to the comfortable basement of your mommie's house so you can live your life there because someone else fucked it up, not (PERFECT) you. Just remember, it's never your fault that you are a fuck up. Plus, don't worry, you can blame your sorry ass situation on the fact that you had a fucked up family life when you were young and formative, which never gave you a solid footing in being an adult person who makes good choices. It's not your fault, it's all somebody else's doings.

Wake the fuck up: everybody had a rough time growing up, and thinking that you had it worse than anybody else is a big neon highway sign showing everybody you come into contact with that you are a major loser who will amount to nothing. So, go ahead and build all those houses of sand and pop sickle sticks, because I love to laugh when you cry because the water of true life shuts that shit down all the fucking time.

The Journey of Life is hard and amazing and sad with shots of light and dark happiness. We all are going through the same thing, just with different details of the same old shit that's been going on since the dawn of our time here on earth. You have it no harder or easier than me.

shit

too many family gatherings, and all i want to do is chill out and stare at the computer screen, listening to weird playlists people make up on my favorite internet radio site, try to decide on one name to call the little child growing in my belly, sneeze all the time due to extra-HIGH sensitivity, make/eat chocolate chip cookies/chocolate chip cookie dough, all while dream about getting a WORKING record player: mine has pissed me off for the last time. but, most unfortunately, the receiver is now being weird. a ton of records and a ton of 'free' time, and no way to pass it with my vinyl. fuck. my desk is full of papers again: this symptom is representative of my ability and failings to procrastinate all the clutter to one spot of my life. hey, it fits well, so i just go with it. i don't want to do shit.

jealous dogs

My belly is getting bigger and bigger as the days pass by, i'm still working at my 'job' as if everything is the same as it ever was, going in as the sun coming up and leaving as the sun is starting to think about going back down behind the horizon. i'm so in love with my little family, and we are all very excited about the new little baby boy about to be added to the mix, although, i am sure, the little dog will be jealous.

pregnant

the Latin kings will come and rule your world. The world series is on the TV tonight. I am pregnant.