Age Spot

I found an age spot this morning.

I wanted to laugh about it, but it’s freaking me out. I don’t want to be old. I’m 30. That’s not even half of what my grandparents lived to be. I was banking on 82 at least…

Chris says I’m not old. He’s right, of course, but I am quite vain. I’m also irritated I have freckles I didn’t used to have. It’s like they just popped up overnight. I’ll be going to Ulta and buying some skin bleach this evening… But I also want to go to a dermatologist… I don’t like new things popping up on my skin. Had skin cancer once… not about doing it again.

Speaking of the weekend, I had a lovely one.

Friday night Chris and I went to Parker to see 90% 90s play a new venue. It was a riot. It’s a cute little bar made out what was obviously a garage at one point. The drinks were cheap but strong, and the demographic was older… like 50+. Watching those people boogie down to No Diggity and Waterfalls was hysterical. They played a lot of classic rock, like AC/DC too. After some drinks we left around 1030, because Chris had to work in the morning. But we sang to Bon Jovi and hit Village Inn on the way back. It was nice.

Saturday I picked up Robyn and we went downtown for the Cinco de Mayo festival at Civic Center Park. I wore a skull print halter dress that I almost never wear, and a black tophat with a red silk rose and a cobweb veil down the back. I was adorable. I thought I’d feel out of place, but we kept seeing people dressed for the Denver Derby, so between their big ass hats and feathers, and the spoof outfits of Star Wars characters going to derby, I actually didn’t feel that out of place. Got a lot of compliments, too. We did a lap around the park, got some tacos, pet a cane corso that someone brought, then hit the train back home to hit some comic book shops for Free Comic Book Day. Scored a bunch of clearance graphic novels at 2nd & Charles. Had a great day with the bestie.

Saturday evening Addi wanted to come say hi after she and Chris took Koopa to the dog park by my place. She likes Bdo a lot, and Frankie. Things were fine, except that when I let Kyrie and Kira in she panicked. Full blown crying panic. She’s scared of Kira.

Now. Full disclosure: she should be. BUT I’ve gone to great lengths to make sure Kira is not threatening to her and that she hasn’t exhibited threats to Koopa or Chris. The only aggression she’s exhibited is barking, and I told her that when Kira barks she wants space. But this spoiled ass little girl starts bawling and yelling about keeping Kira away from her… and Kira didn’t even care that she was there, much less have interest in attacking her.

So… I told Addi that if she’s scared of Kira they had to leave, because this is Kira’s home. My goal was to make her suck it up a little bit. I get tired of all the things this child is scared of. It’s literally everything. I didn’t really expect Chris to load her and Koopa up to leave, though. I thought maybe he was mad at how I handled that situation… but it turns out he was just hungry and hadn’t planned on stopping by anyways. Lol.

Sunday I went to the grocery with mom, and then we came home and watched Extremely Wicked, Shockingly Evil and Vile on Netflix, because my mom knows I love serial killer stuff, and seeing Zac Efron as Ted Bundy was an interesting experience. It’s not REALLY about Bundy, though. It’s about his girlfriend, Liz, and what life is like when someone you love does terrible things. It was really good. During the movie mom made us pork chops with potatoes, which were bomb. And afterwards we watched Tom Segura and chatted and stuff.

I was supposed to go on a walk with Chris, Addi, Koopa, Bdo, and Kira, but it fell through. I was kind of glad, since my body still hurt from Saturday. My plan was that if Addi saw Kira more she’d be less scared, but also to talk to her about Kira and how Kira is super scared of things. Since Kira is scared, she barks, because she knows that barking tends to keep things she’s scared of away, and that she was scared of Addi. I thought maybe they could bond over being scared of everything or something. That’s honestly still the plan, but I think if Addi had freaked out on Sunday I’d have snapped at her instead of talked to her. So… better I got to rest.

And that brings us to today, and my age spot, and some new freckles, and my brand new fear of sunlight. YAY.

I’m stopping at Ulta for bleaching cream, and Kings for spf 50 sunscreen as well as trash bags and laundry soap… UGH I hate being an adult.


Skeletons in the Basement

This weekend Chris and I started planning out the move. We can’t move him in till like May, cuz I’m about to be down and out post-surgery, but I liked the planning… It felt productive.

We also started shoving trash from the red room into a pile and going through things. I think we only worked for about an hour, but we made great progress. I had to ask to stop, though. The stuff in the basement makes me sad. I joke that I keep bodies in my basement, but really I keep a lot of skeletons. Memories that hurt because people are dead, or just gone. I don’t cope with loss that well.

Chris was great about it, though. He took me upstairs and we played Mortal Kombat. No questions asked other than if I wanted to talk about it. I did not.

He talked to the ex and Addi will be going to her place for the summer. So, that will give Chris and I time to move him and Koopa in, and to get Addi used to the idea. Also to see if we can all live together in the first place… I mean, I think I can live with Chris, but it remains to be seen. Chris also said that Addi might do school up with the ex next year, to give him a break to try and get himself together. It’s still up in the air, but it’s good. I feel good about it.

I have to work on getting that pile of trash out of the basement… I don’t want it to just sit. I want progress before my surgery.

I’m getting more nervous about my surgery, but I’m trying not to. It’s no big deal, I say. But I feel like it’s a big deal. It’s irreversible. I know it’s the right thing to do, but it doesn’t make the idea of losing the thing that defines me as a woman. If it were any other person I’d be like, no no no having babies isn’t what makes you a woman, followed by a long tirade about identity and gender, etc. But it’s not someone else. It’s me. And I’ve never been great at being a woman anyways. I’m not feminine. I’m not good at makeup. I’m not just… nothing. And now my insides will match the outsides… It’s a bad feeling.

But then there’s the rest. There’s Chris, and how much he loves me, all of me. He loves me even though I’m not feminine, even though I’m 85 pounds heavier than he is, even though I don’t shave my legs, even though I’m awkward as fuck, even though I’m unsure how to treat kids, even though I’m not sure about so many things. Somehow life is better when someone loves you “even though.” I think “even though” is better than “because.” I know why Chris loves me… but the things he loves me in spite of mean more to me.

Anyways. That’s the update. Nothing dramatic…. but complicated.

Side Effects

It’s 3am and I’m awake for two reasons… 1, I had to Pee but 2, Abilify fucks with your dreams.

The weekend was weird for me and side effects.

Friday night I went to karaoke. Does Abilify interact with alcohol? Absolutely, but not like I thought it would. Usually you end up being a lightweight and acting a fool when you try to drink on new drugs. This was not the case, I was just very social. Literally, I didn’t feel drunk at all….  until I was driving home and became aware VERY QUICKLY that my reaction time was WAY slow… I made it home okay, since the bar was close to home, but in the future if I plan on drinking, it’s worth taking a Lyft.
Also, as an aside, David2, Bird, and I got invited to an orgy before we left the bar. That’s fun. We all fled… stranger orgies are bad.

Saturday I thought I was dying. In retrospect, a few things probably contributed to this. A, I drank the night before. I didn’t have a hangover the next day, but I’m definitely considering that drinking might elicit more side effects than I previously thought it would. 2, I didn’t take my pill at night. I missed it because I was too busy trying to go out, so I took it in the morning. There is something to be said for what you sleep through when you take meds at night. D, I panicked. Panic always just makes shit worse.

So I go to see War for the Planet of the Apes with Mothership, and I can barely eat. I’ve developed this thing where I am full most of the time, but I get hungry more often. That’s not a listed side effect but it’s a new thing. Then, I get heart palpitations. That’s a listed side effect, but it’s a terrifying one. I hate that feeling, and when it got coupled with a hot flash and intestinal distress, it’s a spooky side effect that made me think I was potentially having a heart attack. I got dizzy, and upset, and mom ended up having to drive us home.

Mom baffles me. As long as I can remember, if I’m feeling bad, she is meh about it. When I had a kidney stone that sent me to the ER, she took her time getting ready to take me to the ER. She was more concerned about whether I smelled like Jager than the crippling pain I was in. Likewise, when I told her I thought I might be having a heart attack because my heart was racing so bad, she just asked why. To which I quite angrily said, BECAUSE MY HEART IS RACING AND EVERYTHING IS BAD. I love my mother, and sometimes her eerie calm is handy, like when I had gallstones and was so panicked and pained that all I could do was walk clockwise in a circle and writhe, but in general, her tendency to act unfeeling is unsettling, at best. I’ve begun to wonder if she’s really JUST depressed, or if she, like dad and I, has a mood or personality disorder. She could be histrionic…

Anyways, she got me home and I spent the rest of the day trying to cool off and recover. That meant I was up late, though, so I filled the time with FFXV again. I also started War of the Worlds before bed. Being able to read again is nice.

Sunday was better. I was up early and got in some gaming time. Mostly I just hung out, but I’m real task oriented. I like to DO things that I was previously unable to do. I got some drawing in, and only suffered one hot flash. I went to mom’s and we watched two episodes of Twin Peaks, and ordered pizza. Before bed I also finished the 15th Oz book. There are 25 of them, but I am stopping here, because that’s how far my collection goes. It was an ok day.

But the dreams. I had been really concerned about the dreams, anyways, because when I was on Risperdol I had awful nightmares, but I’m not having nightmares. My dreams are just real involved. It’s like my cognitive processes don’t shut down at all when I sleep now, so it just runs scenarios over and over, trying to determine the best outcome. I’ve quit my job seven times tonight in my dreams. None end well.

Well, it’s 4am now, and I wanna catch my last hour of sleep. But yeah, I’m not sure what to make of Abilify. I contacted my doc to see what she thinks, but again, she’s a Kaiser doc! And I really don’t think she cares if I die or get better.

The Nice People Ripped Up My Gum Line

So I was flossing on Monday, as I try to do at least 3 times a week, cuz I’m a slacker but care about my dental health, and I pulled the floss out and my filling came with it.

I was scared in that moment, because the last time I had been to the dentist was when my wisdom tooth broke in half and they smashed all my wisdom teeth out of my head under local anesthetic: a process I do not recommend to anyone. (SERIOUSLY get knocked out for Wisdom Teeth Removal) I looked it up and I wrote about this experience already: you can read about the worst day of my life here. I’m sure that at least one person thinks that I was way over dramatic about it, but it really was the worst thing I’ve ever gone through. So, that day had ruined the dentist for me, and I hadn’t been in since December of 2014…

So after a tearful phone call to my mom to let her know I’d need to take time from work to go get it fixed, I took a codeine and went to bed. The tooth didn’t hurt or anything, I just was incapable of calming down because I was fucking scared of the dentist. I made an appointment the next day, anyway. I did decide I was not going back to the facility that repeatedly told me, “there’s no way you can feel anything” and during my wisdom teeth removal to, “stop crying.” I made an appointment with a facility by work.

I was scared to go in, obviously. I’d never been scared of the dentist before having my wisdom teeth out, and while I know that there’s no possible way they could grow back for the dentist to remove again, that didn’t calm my fears of being tortured at the hands of an unfeeling, mean-spirited dentist. I tried to stay calm, though…

My dentist was actually really nice. Since I was a new patient, before they took me back she just sat and asked me a few questions. There were medical questions, and then she asked the last time I’d been to the dentist. I considered lying… but why lie? I had ACTUAL PSTD about the dentists. Dentists know that their patients dread seeing them, as a result of that they have one of the highest suicide rates for a career. (You can google that if you don’t believe me… I’m not linking a sad article about the top suicide rates of careers, though.) The dentist just went, “Oh! You had a bad experience. Okay, we’ll make a note of that.

She noted that, and then proceeded to be the nicest dentist I’ve ever met.

She explained everything she was going to do in detail (cuz I’ve never gotten a cap before), and when we determined that I’d need a cap, she set to work numbing me up before she even did the exam. Fortunately, even thought I hadn’t been to the dentist in 2 years, there were no additional cavities, and the only unpleasant part of the exam was scraping off the tartar behind my lower front teeth.

That’s not to say there wasn’t pain, however. No, there was a lot of pain, as they had to grind down my tooth to be able to fit in the cap. So they gave me another shot… still hurt. So they gave me a third…. still hurt… And another, but it still hurt. Eventually, they just tried to do it as quickly as possible, because four shots of anesthetic is quite a lot and it was doing nothing. I did my best not to move or flinch or show signs of pain, but I couldn’t push my head back into the chair hard enough, and my body would tremble, and my eyes leaked. I didn’t bawl, like I did with my wisdom teeth, but I was crying. The dental tech felt bad and wiped away my tears while she set the cap.

I apologized a lot, but they just explained that I was hard to numb up. It happens, especially with people who are nervous. So, they made a note in my chart that next time they’d start with gas, to relax me, and that should help the needle sticks be more effective. No one was mad, just frustrated they didn’t manage to get me numb enough.

The tech set my temporary cap and warned me that it might fall off because they couldn’t control my bleeding… and I believe that, because they FUCKED UP my gum line. My mouth hurts a ton today, and my gum line around the tooth is incredibly raw, but the cap hasn’t popped off. I get my permanent cap in a couple of weeks. I accidentally booked myself for my vacation… but I guess that’s okay, really. Maybe not… I might reschedule.

Everyone was really nice to me, though, and while it definitely wasn’t a GOOD day, I’m not scared to go back to them. Which means I can get regular cleanings again, so that’s exciting.

Anyways… Kindness goes a long way. It makes a difference.

Losing Hope

I’ve found that people in my mother’s generation, the Boomers, can’t usually remember the first presidential election they participated in. I find that interesting, since the people I’m most often in political arguments with are Boomers. I have inferred from these two things that 1, Boomers weren’t terribly political people until they got older, and 2, that Boomers, above all else, are characterized by a desire to talk.

I did the math, and my mother turned eighteen just a month before the Nixon v. McGovern election. I know that she voted for McGovern. I know this because her father was a Democrat, and therefore she registered as a Democrat.

When I first learned this, I thought it was terrible. I couldn’t imagine voting for someone just because my mom did. I have thoughts, values, and opinions that are dramatically different from my mother, so often our political opinions are quite different. It took a while for me to think about why that was so awful, though. It’s because I had the time. I had the luxury of time to investigate the candidates. I googled their positions on topics important to me. I wasn’t being pressured into getting married right out of high school. I wasn’t a minority for not having ended up pregnant in high school. I had options and free time, and I had been encouraged to know and understand the world around me. My mother wasn’t privy to ANY of that.

When my mother was eighteen, she was graduating high school, getting her first divorce, figuring out where to live so she didn’t have to move back in with one of her parents, had no idea what she was supposed to do with her future, AND her senior year was sullied by riots and violence caused by the hostility of desegregation. In the small city my mother was raised in, it was the norm for girls to get married in high school, get knocked up, and never finish high school, much less go to college. This was doubly true when kids were scared of going to school because of the rioting… people could get killed. My mother had gotten married, but insisted on finishing high school. She was also not on board with being barefoot and pregnant while relying on some good ol’ boy from her hometown to take care of her. My mother was, and still is even if she’d never admit it, a freethinking feminist.She didn’t know that at the time, of course… and she really didn’t want ME to be one, oddly enough.

I’m fortunate that my high school career was pretty boring. I went to an a public school in a nice neighborhood (even if we didn’t live in that nice neighborhood), with a mixture of races, creeds, and religions, and never had to think twice about it. I was literally so fortunate that I didn’t even understand that I was going to have to decide what to do with my life until like my second year of college. Even now I kick myself for living in that dream world… but my academic life is a post for another time. My point is that I lived a life of security, and so when my first election year came up, I was prepared AND I was excited.

I guess it helps that my first election year was the year of hope. Obama spouted off about hope a lot that year, and while I knew that hope was a fickle thing that could leave at any time, I was excited to be part of something so much bigger than myself. My friends were equally excited. One even had an Obama party for election day. That win was amazing. It was a win for hope, and it was a win that put the first black president into office. (I am aware of the strangeness that mom’s first election was marred by the violence of desegregation and mine was highlighted by the election of the first black president… if this were a work of fiction, that would be a genius plot device.)

This election was a joke, and it took a lot away from me. Actually, the whole campaign season was a joke, with half the country backing a candidate that didn’t even win the party vote, and the other half backing a caricature depiction of what every country in the world sees America as: a racist, stupid, entitled fuck. I was legitimately ashamed of being American this year. (Although, Australia also had political catastrophes this year worthy of laughing at… but the world doesn’t have all eyes on Australian government.)

I was so sure, so very sure, that the American people wouldn’t let me down. Maybe a candidate like Ted Cruz could have garnered enough votes to win. He’s still a ludicrous Republican with no idea how the average American lives, but he’s a legit politician with a sense of decorum and people watching what he says so he doesn’t shout, “KILL ALL THE (insert pretty much anything that isn’t a cis, hetero, white man here)” from the rooftops. Surely, I thought, no one was REALLY going to vote for Trump, though. I mean, last time he ran for office he was laughed out of the election before the primaries. Much to my dismay, and true to form, America let me down.

Even before we get into how the American electoral system let me down, America let me down. The fact that there was ANYONE in the country, my country, that could listen to this bigot talk and not hate him was beyond me. The idea that there are people in the world that could back someone with his history, with his mouth, with his blatant disregard for the courtesy of lying to the American people about what you stand for just to save face… This man isn’t a Republican who is against abortion and for religion, and I’m mad because his idea of America is more “traditional” and less “politically correct” than mine. This is a man that scared other Republicans. This is a man that bad-mouthed people in his own party with blatant disregard. This is a man who had pending legal actions against him for rape. This is a man that has no political experience. This is a man that  This is a man that seems to have a weird bromance with the would-be dictator of Russia. (I know he’s the president, but if he could swing a dictatorship he would do it…)

I found myself wondering if the fear and sickness I felt was common after losing an election year. Would I have been scared of McCain or Romney? No, I decided. Palin made me nervous, but I wasn’t SCARED of her politics… just her idiocy. Did people feel this way when Bush was elected? A lot of scary things happened while Bush was in office, but no was the answer I got from those who voted in that election. They’d been disappointed, sure, but not scared.

It wasn’t until the election results were finalized that I understood how the electoral system had failed me. I’d never seen the popular vote not match the electoral vote before. I didn’t realize that was a thing that could happen, though I was sure I learned that in Discrete Math back in high school. Furthermore, when presented with all the information, I was sure that the electors would HAVE to represent the people. The electoral college was created as a barrier between the American people and a bad choice, a last ditch effort at protecting the public. At the bare minimum it should act to represent the people, right? Apparently… no.

2016 has been a dumpster fire of a year. It wasn’t until now that I realized just what it’s taken from me, though. It stole my hope.

I’ve lost interest in the government. If the actual popular vote means nothing, then why DID I vote? If the government, built on hear its people, doesn’t give a fuck about the people, then what freedoms can the American public actually claim they have?

In what world is it okay that every politician in the game is BEGGING the American people to give Trump a chance? BEGGING they not riot or revolt… BEGGING that we not start killing each other… and yet Trump isn’t begging his supporters for shit. Even when they wage domestic terrorism against the LGBTQIA+ Community, and the Black Community, the Latino Community, the (insert anything not cis, hetero, white male here) Community he remains… like the stone faced villain of some bedtime story meant to scare children.

It’s weird to feel so disillusioned, and so afraid. I never knew I put so much faith in my fellow Americans until they let me down. I never considered the holes in the electoral system until it spat in the face of the people.

I know a lot of people who already felt this way about America, but I never understood the reasoning. No, one vote doesn’t win an election, but until now I always thought that my vote still meant SOMETHING. I felt like it was important, even if it just got lumped into a pile with the others. Now, when I think about it all I feel empty… dirty even, for being so naive. It’s not that I thought America was the greatest country in the world… I just… I thought… I thought we we safer than we are.

A war hasn’t been fought on American soil since we fought ourselves. People don’t understand the security in that. I’m scared for the next eight years. I’m scared of what can be taken from me. I’m scared of what might happen to people I care about. I’m scared that the choices of a single, stupid fucking man could take me to an early grave… I’m scared of my life turning into a Young Adult novel set in dystopian, post-apocalyptic America…. I don’t have the gall to be a Katniss. I don’t have the heart to be a Tris. I am just numb to anything that isn’t fear when I think about our futures…

This is a feeling I will never forgive my government for.

Grieve & Get Ready

You can listen to this entry by clicking here.

Yesterday, I was pessimistic, but hopeful.
This morning I woke up to devastation.
I, like many others, am terrified.

Come inauguration day, January 20th, we will be living in Trump’s America.This is a version of reality that I never actually gave credence to until right now. I was prepared for four years of Hillary, as flawed as she was, but in no way am I mentally prepared for whatever is to come under the rule of Donald Trump: loud-mouthed, hate-spewing businessman with a long line of failure and a longer list of offenses.

People have already said it, but I will say it again: Donald Trump has proved what is great and what is terrible about America, and that is that ANYONE can become president.

A lot of people are speculating whether the Trump Inauguration will, in fact, happen come January. To those thinking he’ll back out and realize that he’s in over his head, I’d like to remind you what kind of narcissist we are dealing with. To those thinking that his upcoming court cases can save us with an impeachment, I’d like to remind you that Trump supporters did not seem to care what happened to land him in that courtroom. No, America, I’m afraid that against all hopes we will be facing an orange president, and we’re just going to have to deal with it.

I am not suggesting that we take this lying down. Mourn today. Mourn for the next 70 days if you must, but do not despair, for this is not over. I know a lot of people are grieving America right now: LGBTQIA+ people, People of Color, Women, white people who thought that other white people had maybe just cooled the fuck down for a god damn minute… and it is completely expected for you all to be angry, sad, scared, and lost. Please take care of yourselves and each other. But when you have cried until there is nothing wet left in you, and you have screamed all of your rage to heavens with throats made hoarse with ferocity, I urge you to meditate on your pain and your fear. Find the source and know it’s there, and then take that energy and fight. The fight for us, for you, for the people you care about, your nation, and your future, is not over until we are dead, my friends; and while we have taken a hard blow to what we have fought so hard for, we are not yet in the ground.

This election is historic, not because Hillary Clinton was almost the President of the United States, but because never before has half the country been so fearful of a potential leader. Even my mother, who has seen eleven presidents come and go, has never been SCARED of the president elect before. We, as a country need to use that fear.

A scared animal is the most dangerous. A scared nation is one rash move away from chaos. That is why we, as a country, need to harness all that fear and anger and make plans. We need to be involved. We need to TALK to each other. We have to stand up for each other and fight for each other. When Trump comes for one group, and he will, the rest of us need to be there to keep him from taking them, otherwise, who will be there when he comes for you and yours?

I’m not traditionally a political person, but Donald Trump is a danger to us all, and I’m not about to sit back and watch him strip away everything my friends, family, and my nation have fought so hard for. If that means I have to go out of my way to campaign, protest, learn, and change, then I will. I will do what I have to in order to protect my people. All of my people.

I don’t know who will hear this podcast or read this blog, but if you can hear me, I urge you to do what you can to make Trump’s reign a single term, and to make that term a struggle for him every step of the way. We have 1454 days to ensure that something this catastrophic, this embarrassing, and this terrifying NEVER happens again.

Not Official Yet… But…

So we’ve previously discussed that I have no life plan. I just fumble through life and once in a while I impulsive DO SOMETHING. This week I impulsively did a thing.

Let’s backup.

On Wednesday my mom woke up at 230 in the morning and her brain kicked on. It decided to show a reel of all the poor choices she’d made in her life. That set the tone for the whole day. It wasn’t a good day. Recently, because she keeps thinking about the fact she’s going die, my mom keeps trying to get things in order so that when she does die, I’m not fucked. Lol. I’m a pretty independent twenty-something, but with no other family to fall back on, she worries. I get that. So she’s been looking around to see where we could move that would afford me a better career opportunity. So, as she does, she was talking about us moving to Daphne, AL because there’s a Controller position open down there. I’m not a fan of the idea of moving pretty much anywhere that isn’t California (looking for no snow and no hurricanes but with beach access). I’m also not looking to be a Controller. My mom’s a Controller. I’ve seen that hell. It’s not what I’m looking for. So I told her no, because my eventual goal is California, but if she thought that would be good for her that she should go.

Apparently, that stabbed her in the heart and tore it out of her chest. She was mad as shit at me for that comment. Also, she felt the need to remind me that I’m not GOING anywhere. So… she got to relive all her bad choices at 230am, and she decided to remind me that my life is going nowhere. Great day… lemme tell you.

So we had to have it out. That’s how we communicate. I had to explain to her that I don’t really have a plan. I’m not a planner when it comes to my life. It made her sad. I also had to explain that I’m just not trying to stand in the way of her being happy. People DO go off and start over at sixty-something and enjoy the rest of their life. That’s a thing that happens. Then we got into:

“Do you think I’m smothering you?!” -her

“No, I think you feel responsible for me and how I do nothing with my life, because I’m boring and have no motivation.” -me

“You don’t have any other family when I’m gone! There are people in the South that are your family. In California, all you have is your dad’s family, and they’re not gonna help you.” -her

“I don’t want to move to California to be close to family. I don’t talk to family. I don’t even wanna move to the same area as my friend that lives in California. I’ve accepted that at some point I’m gonna be alone in the world and it’s fine. I just want what I want!” -me

So… We came to a weird impasse, but at the end of it, I pretty much explained that because of my own poor life choices I am stuck here indefinitely till after Keagan and Kyrie pass on. I’m hoping, of course, that that’s not terribly soon, but that’s how it is. I can’t move with four dogs and a cat. Keagan is 14, Kyrie is 10… So 4-6 years from now I’ll be ready to make a move. Also, in four years I should be out of my student loans. So my “plan” is to hang out in Denver till then.

Back at work, we were supposed to hire a Finance Assistant.
This made me kinda irritated.

You see, I asked our previous GM if I could learn to sell. He didn’t take me seriously.
I asked our previous Service Manager if I could be an Advisor, AND was prepared to go back to school for it. He didn’t take me seriously.
So, I was kinda irritated that if we needed a Finance Assistant, that the GM didn’t think to ask if anyone in the office would want to move up.

Long-story-short, the finance assistant isn’t coming. There’s a lot of politics in there as to why, but she’s not coming. So… I decided to throw my hat in the ring. He couldn’t see me that night, though. So I talked to him yesterday.

The job sounds daunting and stressful and generally awful. I’m helping assist finance, but I’m also supposed to learn finance and start selling myself… and help sales… so like the entire floor will be yelling at me for help. Still, all I could think of was Brooke.

Brooke was a finance person we had for a long long time. She was pretty, and confident, and scandalous. She also made a killing every paycheck. Obviously, we can’t all be Brooke. Brooke is an idolization that I aspire to be, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be her a little bit.

As of this morning, it’s looking like I’ll be moving to finance. First we have to find a title clerk, then I have to pass the sales licensing test, change my hair, get a “customer facing wardrobe,” and learn what I’m going to actually be doing… but all signs point to me giving up my Saturdays and learning to be on the floor.

It’s scary as fuck.

When I had to move from middle school to high school, I was terrified and cried about it.
When I had to graduate and start college, I had a complete panic attack and tore all my fake nails off on the first day of classes.
When college was over and I realized that I wasn’t gonna get a job in my field, and that I had to make an adult decision for employment, I copped out and just staid here.
I don’t handle big changes exceedingly well, is what I’m saying.

But… I impulsively did a thing, and it’s looking like that’s what I’m doing… regardless of if I’d rather back out and hide in my house forever, instead.

I’m hoping that with the increase in money, even if it’s not that much to start with, that I can get a new car… and build my way up from there to being more of a really real adult… or get a maid… I really want a maid…

Important thing is that it appears I have some kind of short-term game plan… and if it doesn’t work out, I have all my accounting and title experience to fall back on. But I hope it works out. Moving for a job in finance is better than moving for a job in accounting. Better pay, more options… so… it’s scary but it’s good.

Anyways… more when it’s official, yeah?