Okay, I admit today is slightly different than my usual Tuesday fare. The above is a playlist I created on YouTube. It is based on a question one of my Facebook friends asked…
Quick! What is your favorite cover song that you think is better than the original?
Now that has some controversy… after all it depends on the eye of the beholder mechanic. What is good for me may not be to you.
Still, I enjoy the covers on this playlist and I thought I would share it with you. What is your favorite cover song?
I still have a cold. I am trying to get my creative juices flowing regardless of the sinuses and the other symptoms. (Hence why I did a penguin, I feel like a penguin.) I have made it through half of the week… I am scheduling tomorrow and Friday. Making it at least to Wednesday feels like an accomplishment. I have been doing some uploading to DeviantArt this week as well. (New phone has more space so I have the app…it makes me more likely to visit the site….) I have been doing less on Facebook and spending time on Tumblr. I still am reachable on all of my social media sites but I think that I spent too much time with Facebook and now I need to spread my time around. It should be less toxic for me to embrace the way each social media site works for shorter periods of time.
[Verse 1] Woke up late, car’s a mess Spilled some coffee on my dress Trying to pick out a song Drove too fast, missed a stop Somehow a Policeman saw How am I gonna pay for that?
[Pre-Chorus] I stayed up ’til 3 a.m last night Watching Netflix on my phone ’cause They cut off the power line Drank up the rest of the box wine Oh, I know it wasn’t smart And I say this every time [Chorus] I can’t adult today at all I wanna go right back to bed And pretend I’m not feeling well There’s nothing that I wanna say But ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh I can’t adult today I can’t adult today
[Verse 2] Got to work, powered through Headache started around 2 ‘Cause I had to work through lunch Finally, I finished up Made it home and had enough But I found a dog chewed couch
[Pre-Chorus] I stayed up ’til 3 a.m last night Watching Netflix on my phone ’cause They cut off the power line Drank up the rest of the box wine Oh, I know it wasn’t smart And I say this every time
[Chorus] I can’t adult today at all I wanna go right back to bed And pretend I’m not feeling well There’s nothing that I wanna say But ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh I can’t adult today [Bridge] Just another cup of coffee I can’t adult today Just a little bit more money I can’t adult today 10 alarms just to remind me I can’t adult today Tomorrow I will try again
[Chorus] I can’t adult today at all I wanna go right back to bed And pretend I’m not feeling well There’s nothing that I wanna say But ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh I can’t adult today I can’t adult today I can’t adult today
My Two Cents- being sick sucks. Catching up on the work I should have done whilst sick sucks. I wanna go right back to bed…
Let me preface this by saying that I don’t know what I am changing yet…if anything. I am entering a little bit of a restructuring of my own life and social media. I still plan on being here. I am still me. However, I recently broke ties to a friend of over a decade. This has been coming for the past year. It should surprise no one.
I don’t know if I have anything to change, however a decade of shared speces and shared faces means that I at the very least have to consider the change… and the backlash it will have on the people around me. Though I share easily my life here, I don’t feel like I should be pointing fingers at others and writing their sins. What is toxic to me may not be to them. We can each only tell our own truth… whatever that may be.
I do post on social media vague rants and those who are close to me can figure it out…but I don’t point fingers. I don’t feel like it is my place to call someone out. It is my place to try and work through my own emotions and my reaction to the situation. Hence why I vague post. They are my way to work through the issue. Comments end up helping me to see if I am way out in left field or missing something.
Right now I am feeling grief. I am processing it. I am pulling myself away from the shared spaces. I am also refusing to allow my grief to stop the forward motion of Fae Corps. She requested that her books be pulled. She has decided to cut the ties completely. I think that is probably the best idea, as I will continue to get hurt otherwise. She left me feeling like I am hard to love, and hard to get along with. That is my responsibility to deal with.
I am back to dealing with this blog and the Fae Corps blog. I spent all day Sunday getting it dealt with, and I am determined to keep my blog from falling behind. Maybe I will have an easier time doing so with my mind not distracted by the issues I was facing.
I break the ice So they don’t see my size And I have to be nice Or I’ll be the next punchline
I’m just the best friend in Hollywood movies Who only exist to continue the story The girl gets the guy while I’m standing off-screen So I’ll wait for my cue to be comedic relief
Can’t be too loud Can’t be too busy If I don’t answer now, are they still gonna need me? Can’t be too proud Can’t think I’m pretty Do they keep me around, so their flaws just seem silly?
I say I’m okay ‘Cause they wouldn’t care anyway And I could try to explain But my efforts in vain They can’t relate to how I’ve
Drawn out in Sharpie where I take the scissors If that’s what it took for me to look in the mirror I’ve done every diet to make me look thinner So why do I still feel so goddamn inferior?
Can’t be too loud And can’t be too busy If I don’t answer now, are they still gonna need me? Can’t be too proud and Can’t think I’m pretty Do they keep me around, so their flaws just seem silly?
Life of the fat, funny friend Life of the fat, funny friend
It’s funny when I think a guy likes me And it’s funny when I’m the one who says, “Let’s go to eat” It’s funny when I’m asked to go out on Halloween Dresses and thigh highs, while I hide my body
Can’t be too loud And can’t be too busy If I don’t answer now, are they still gonna miss me?
Can’t be too loud And can’t be too busy If I don’t answer now, are they still gonna need me? Can’t be too proud and Can’t think I’m pretty Do they keep me around, so their flaws just seem silly?
Life of the fat, funny friend Life of the fat, funny friend Life of the fat, funny friend Life of the fat, funny friend
I’ve drawn out in Sharpie where I take the scissors
My Two Cents- I have been fat almost all my life. I was tiny before I hit puberty…but I hit puberty…I got fat. or so I was told.
I was two in the picture above.
And here I was ten. Through most of my teen years my mother had me on every fad diet there was. She was certain I would die before I was 30 by heart attack. So certain that she had me convinced.
My senior year of high school…I was 200 lbs….
I ended up 450 lbs and unable to move…but hey…I survived 30…
I am down to 270. I am still the same girl. the teen that didn’t understand what was wrong with me. The person who never felt like she looked good enough to be counted as cute, much less pretty.
Recently, I had someone give me unsolicited feedback. Now I am over that…but the reaction to my emotions afterwards…I have spent some time on. I was HURT…Like ready to delete the art program off of my computer hurt. I worked through that, because you know that is my responsibility – to deal with the emotions and the reasons why I feel them. I did not take it out on the person other than to tell them that they hurt me and that I did not appreciate the unsolicited feedback. That night I recorded a video rant on tiktok, Not naming or pointing any fingers to anyone. Not even being angry. I left it in my drafts folder overnight. Unsure if I would post it. Because the initial reaction to my hurt was her doing the OK like I had no business being hurt. She had immediately said sorry in a hey now I need to make you shut up kind of way. and then when I tried to explain my hurt she kept saying Ok…
Now I realize that I am nowhere near perfect. My voice has been stolen too often, So I guard it, I guard my ability to control my ability to express my self. No one can take those things from me. I have very distinct boundaries because of this. Well the next day I had worked through most of the hurt. I was able to see it for what it was and not do something that I felt would be foolish. I watched the video I had made and decided it was not me doing nothing but lashing out in hurt. I decided that it was a fair video and good content. Something that I often have issues posting, everywhere. So I posted it. The person decides that means I am still mad and starts sending me WTF messages. I told her I was never mad, only hurt. She blows that off as it is the same thing for me.
I am now questioning myself and everyone I know and love to be sure that my anger and my hurt are not manifesting the same way. They are not, but as this person mostly deals with me via social media she would not know the difference. I consider this person my best friend…some days my only friend. So I am devastated that she really doesn’t know me. I end up with the last things she says in the conversation bouncing around in my head all damn night. I am not going to put the exact things in here…but it is the same thing that always comes up when I enforce a boundary. ‘Well I did not realize that you expected that of me!’ Why would a boundary not apply to you? Because you are my closest friend? It seems that would mean I would not have to enforce the boundary because as my closest friend you would understand the damn reason for it.
I recently heard that the boundaries someone has a problem with are the limits to their respects for you. Now I wonder if I am mourning a friendship. I am wondering if I even had a friend, or was there only to make her feel better. I hate that. I love her. Still. That is the worst of this. I don’t halfway give my heart to anyone. I still love everyone I ever have…even if I can’t stand who they have become.
*Edit to note I don’t yet know if I am mourning our friendship. Time is the only answer for that. I sent my thoughts via email and am awaiting a reply.
So my daughter and I were talking. I told her I was happy that she was comfortable enough when the kitchen flooded to cuss at me. To me that feels like she was able to express herself without worrying that I would be angry about it. I am big on self expression, which should surprise no one. She said that her therapist encouraged her to use whatever language she felt the need to express the thoughts in her head. *This is where I should note that we really don’t know any other language except American English. We know a few smattering of words in other languages, but not enough to be a fluency of it’s own…but swearing…well…yeah We swear like sailors around here. She mentioned that my mom had said that swearing shows a lack of intelligence. I so completely disagree. I think that it often is looked down upon, but there are times when a good creative swear (note I said creative) shows more intelligence than not. And not always does the swear have to be dirty. One of my favorites is a foreign (for me) word that means shame on you.
I have tried to make my home a place that my kids can call to express anything. I don’t judge them for speaking their minds. They can literally tell me anything. I am their safe space. For me that is what home should be. It is not what all of us had.
I was going to do the usual poetry update today…but my kitchen sink busted last night…well a piece of it did. We have a hose attachment that allows us directly to use water (my dishwasher is a portable) and the hose busted. It is not going to be an expensive fix. Just was a panic at 2 in the morning because of the flooded kitchen. It got me thinking, much as most incidents like that do.
My daughter was the one who had found the flooded kitchen, and bless her she immediately went to work cleaning up the mess. She sent me messages to wake me up. She was comfortable enough to curse at me for not answering the phone (I was actually in a deep sleep for a change). I wonder if I would have ever been so with my mom.
We had a conversation while we were stuck at Walmart about what our favorite dinosaur was (hers is a Saurolophus, mine has always been a triceratops) and I adore the little things that I can get to share with her. (The dinosaur conversation was initiated due to a figit toy she had in her purse. A club tailed dino filled with sand that can be manipulated various ways.)
I don’t remember ever being comfortable enough talking to my mom about anything. My doctor finds my mom and I to be a funny topic. I told her (doctor) that My mom still is blaming me for a virus I had as a teenager. I had infantigo when I was around 11 or 12. Mom is still convinced that I caused it by picking at it. And even though I am in my late 40’s brought it up as I was going to cause myself to get it again. The doctor thinks it’s funny. It is a bit of the epiphany for me.
I always expect my daughter to be amazing. Even if she has a bad day, she is going to be amazing. Nothing can change my mind on that. My mom expects the worst about me. She always has, always will… and I have to stop letting her voice color my self view I have spent 47 years trying to be good enough for a woman who is never going to see me as adequate. Time to change my aim.
I last saw the man who has lived in my nightmares at around 9 or 10 years old. Still, he has made my life miserable not because he was actively in it, but because of what he did and the fact that when I finally got the courage to tell anyone… well they did not believe me. He said that they would not. So if he was right about that, what about the other things that he said? Was it all really my fault?
Biden just signed a Bill…I am so happy for it…it takes away the limit for how long you have to take your abuser to court. How long you have to get the world to see them for the piece of shit that they are… for some people that is a miracle.
For some of us…there is no justice.
I am not saying that just because he is dead. My abuser committed suicide just a few years ago…Don’t expect me to mourn him.
No, I am saying that because I can’t go back and get my family to see the truth. I will never be able to look at my self and think I am not deserving of the way that I was treated… why? Because I obviously missed something. Something that he saw.
My mom doesn’t understand. She asked me if she ever actually said that she didn’t believe me… no not in those words. She said that I must have been remembering it wrong. That I didn’t have the dates exactly right. Okay…I was supposed to handle the memories better. I see. I was supposed to get over it… because that is what you do right?
No, Justice doesn’t always come. But the Bill that Biden signed is a huge step in the right direction.
Some days it is harder than others to feel like I have a voice.
A lot of the reason I do the publishing thing is because I have had my voice stolen too often. I want to help others find their voice. Sounds kinda cheesy I realize…but it is the truth. I strive to make absolutely sure that when I edit I do so in a way that never changes the author’s voice…while still addressing readability and grammar. I realize that might not be important to some…but to me that voice is often what makes the story.
I know others feel like they are a burden, like I do. For me though it is harder to fight that because I spent much of my childhood not being heard. I have spent a good bit of my adult life the same way.
Let me explain.
Have you ever walked into a doctor’s office and told them your symptoms only to have them yell at you for not taking medicine for a disease you did not yet know you had? or have you gone in and said I am having trouble and get diagnosed with something with no test or diagnostic process simply because the doctor was overworked and you were in his office like the hundreds before you that day? Oh, and then there were the doctors who were quick to blame all of my issues on my size. Yeah. I have had really bad luck with doctors.
Perhaps that is why I avoid going until I have no choice.
Still it is not just doctors that it feels like I am ignored by. Though I understand that I am not the only person in anyone’s life…there are days when I will speak and get the response of *Sigh* What? – Which makes me want to pull away. Because that response only hurts. I understand if you are busy. Say…Hey I am busy, can I get back to you? And I will get it. But to say it like that…
It silences me. And makes my inner voice into a scream.
I feel like eventually I will never speak again, but that voice…the one inside that never shuts up…the one that says how horrible I am and that no one likes me…That will be so loud that everyone outside will hear it.
Then who will I be?
So, today….I am going to be quiet, because that voice is too loud and my voice is too small. I hope that none of you ever are hushed.
Pattimouse 