Being Nice Is Abysmal

I don’t know why, but I end up in a lot of one-sided relationships.

For the most part, I don’t mean romantic relationships, especially since I haven’t had one of those since 2012, but platonic relationships: friendships, in particular.

I guess it’s because, in spite of my very best efforts, I’m a nice person. Literally,

I am the kind of person that will bend over backwards to try and make everything okay. Even if we aren’t close, even if we haven’t spoken in a while: if you are distressed, I will go out of my way to brighten your fucking day. It’s a shitty thing to be, honestly, because people definitely try to take advantage of it. I like to think it’s unintentional, but I’m pretty sure that’s just that niceness in me trying to sugar coat the truth of people being shit and taking advantage of nice people.

​One of the best examples of this is that when I was in my senior year of high school (I think) my best friend stopped talking to me. Not just to me, in fact, he stopped talking to everyone and totally dove head first into a terribly unhealthy relationship. It wasn’t really an uncommon thing, for my friends to totally abandon everyone else when they got into a relationship, but it hurt my feelings. This came after years of me tearing my hair out while trying to accommodate him and be the very best friend, ever. I was miffed. I was hurt. I was depressed and tormented over it… and one day there he was, parked outside my mother’s house crying. I didn’t even think twice about getting in his car and going somewhere with him so he could tell me what happened with his boyfriend, playing the ever sympathetic, ever reliable friend that I ever was.

I don’t really regret that day. I’d missed my friend, and everyone makes mistakes. Still, I can’t tell you why I was so ready to forgive. I’d spent all of high school trying to make this kid like me. He was the first person in high school to talk to me. I tried so hard to conform, to like what he did, to be a person that he’d want to keep around. I literally spent time crying when he’d bail on me for someone else, and he’d just thrown my friendship out like an old milk carton because a guy had come along. When push came to shove, though, I wanted him to be my friend more than I was bitter. One thing about me, though… I forgive, but I never forget. He ended up moving away and growing up to be a very important person. He’s happy. He’s happier than I ever remember him being. As much as I’d like to hold a grudge about the way I perceived myself to be treated, I let him treat me that way. I was a different person then… but we’re still friends.

Then there was the one person I fell for. She was insecure, unsure, and always second guessing herself, but she was also the sweetest, kindest person you could hope to meet. I grew really attached to her. To be honest, I think I was in love with her. I didn’t do anything about it, because she’s straight, but I cared about her more than anyone I’ve ever bothered to date. Over time, though, she grew away from me. She got wrapped up in some stuff, and with some people I just didn’t care for. I kept trying to keep her close, anyway. I tried to date someone similar to who she was hanging out with as proof that I was totally cool with everything. That blew up in my face, but not before she completely abandoned me because the guy she was dating didn’t care for my presence…

I’d like to be mad about that one, and for a few years, I definitely was. I was tormented over it. I didn’t understand what had happened, and I felt totally alone in the world. It took a while to realize that what I had previously provided her with, which was a lot of reassurance, affection, and security, was better coming from a man. She wanted to get married and have a family, and no matter how good of a friend I was to her, and no matter how much I loved her, I was never going to provide her with that. No, as much as I wanted to be angry that she deserted me, I can’t be mad about that. I’m still sad that my years of support essentially boiled down to nothing. I’m still hurt that even though I was ready to make every exception to every rule to be the person she needed to be, that I would never be that person. I still wish things were different… but through various methods of stalking, I know she got married, and that she had a beautiful little boy, and last time I checked she seemed very happy. I cannot fault her for pursuing happiness, even if I wasn’t part of that equation.

Somewhere in there were the Trixie chronicles. I was seventeen, she was twenty-something, and we had a lot of adventures. Somehow it was always about her, though. Her life was always on the verge of falling apart. There was the abusive boyfriend, who was my boyfriend’s roomie. There was her crazy mother. There was her ex-husband, who never really understood how to be a divorced dad. There were the various minions she collected, some other boyfriends she didn’t really seem to like… All that time, I was happy to follow her around like a puppy. I was having a complete crisis in my own life, but her adventures were a welcome distraction, until Mr. Man showed up. He was a friend of a friend of mine from high school, and she fell for him so hard… and… once again someone I needed no longer needed me.

I can’t really be mad about that one, either. Yeah, it sucked to drift away from each other, but she was so happy. Also, I had some shit of my own that I’d been avoiding dealing with. It was really unfortunate to hear that they ended up not working out. He packed up and left over Christmas last year. I don’t really know what happened, but I couldn’t go back to being her sidekick. I think she was disappointed by that.

There were, of course, the Bird & Mouse adventures. Bird was great to hang out with. She liked me. We’d go out and do stuff we both liked… I got tired of things with Bird, though. I got tired of her being late. I got tired of her trying to talk to me about her weight when I weight like twice as much as her. I got tired of being out with her and everyone looking at her, instead of me. (Yeah, I resent the girl for being pretty. I’m only human.) I got tired of her hearing about her parents, and this guy she was seeing, and how everything was so dramatic.

Don’t get me wrong, we’re still friends, but with a healthy amount of space. I’d grown too much to be the person she wanted me to be. I wasn’t her sidekick. I didn’t have the patience for everything to be a trauma… and god damn it, I’m punctual. I stopped offering for us to ride together. I stopped asking to hang out, using my dogs or my job as an excuse to dodge most of her requests… and I let us grow apart.

I find myself in another one-sided friendship… My friend is nice enough, but somehow I allowed our friendship to be based around my being part of his support system. He was recently diagnosed with Bipolar Mood Disorder after an unfortunate suicide attempt. I didn’t mind being around for to start with, seeing as how I’ve been diagnosed bipolar for years, but we’re at a point where I’m irritated with him.

A, He lets his Bipolar run his life.

I know that meds will wreck you and that moods are unpredictable. I live that shit. A while ago, however, I had to say fuck it to letting life get hung up on my bipolar. I FORCE myself to be a normal person. I don’t call in when I’m too sad to get out of bed… I roll myself onto the floor and cry all the way to the shower, followed by getting dressed, pushing all my emotions into a tight little ball that will one day give me cancer, and go to work. I don’t do meds anymore because they wrecked my life and I had to take the initiative to do what was best for me to function. If you’re going to be on meds and you’re unsure how they will react, you do start them on a day when YOU DON’T HAVE TO GET UP IN MORNING. That’s common sense.

2, He’s what my other gay friend call A-Gay. All he knows is gay. He’s not gay, but a gamer. He’s not gay, but something else. He’s JUST gay. And that’s fine… but it’s boring. I really signed on for more than just a friend who JUST gay… RuPaul’s Drag Race is great, but I’m not a gay man. I don’t care about going to gay bars and using the identity of a gay man as an excuse to not know basic pop culture references, just because they aren’t about gay men is kind of irritating… like… be multifaceted.

D, He’s not coping well. I don’t understand people who want to get wrecked every fucking day. More so, I don’t understand people who get wrecked when they have company. You want to have a drink? Let’s have a drink. You wanna get twisted every Friday when I come over to see you? Nah, bro. You’re boring.

So we do very little in the way of things I want to do…. and I’m just fucking over it, to be honest. I’m tired of people expecting me to do what they want and no one ever wanting to join me for things I want to do.

Years ago I did everything alone, because no one wanted to do the things I wanted to do. Then for a while I’d made some friends that were already at the things I wanted to do… but they’ve all filtered out now… and I’m back to wanting to do shit and having NO ONE to do it with… As much as I’m dreading it, I guess I’m going to have to do shit on my own again… which I hate, because I’m not good at talking to strangers. I’m not good at making new friends. I’m especially bad at feeling comfortable somewhere alone. But what else am I going to do? Sit on my friend’s sofa and watch him get wrecked every Friday until I die? Sit in my house and binge watch Netflix every evening till I die?

No… I guess I’m going have to fucking enjoy life alone…

This. This is the only reason I want a relationship. I want someone who is obligated to come to a thing with me. I’ll go to their things, too. I like doing new shit. But my life would be better with someone to share it with… friend, lover… someone besides my dogs, since I can’t take them to concerts and clubs with me…


14,716,800 Minutes

Halloween was my birthday.
I am 28.

I’m always sad that getting older is subtle and less like leveling up in a video game… I experienced no change in appearance, no improved skills, and no increase in HP. No, my birthday just brings what it has brought since I turned 25… which is a mild break down and general crisis.

It’s a strange thing, this birthday crisis. It’s atypical behavior for me. You see, I am not in the habit of comparing my life those of others, simply because while I don’t know what I want, I always know what I DO NOT want. I do not want to get married. I do not want to have kids, unless I decide to adopt later in life. I do not want to go back to college again. Knowing these things, it strikes me odd that I would be so moved as to have a crisis over these things that I don’t really want to start with… but that’s what happened.

So it’s Sunday the 30th, and I’m at the grocery with the Mothership, and we’re checking out. I got done first and I was looking at this display. I hate the fact that Christmas stuff starts showing up the day after Halloween… assuming they wait THAT long, but there was a display with three old Christmas movies on it.


They’re pretty old movies… and I mean ACTUALLY old… Not “90s kids” old, but made in the 60s old. Still, as a 90s kid, I did grow up watching them, just like the generations before me. They’re good Christmas movies. I always had a weird affection for claymation, to be honest.

Anyways, I’m standing there staring at this display, remembering how much I enjoyed these movies and out of nowhere my ovaries go:
My ovaries are still not on board with the not-wanting-to-have-kids thing… they are also real fucking mean since I don’t let them even TRY to setup house for a baby anymore. (I love my birth control so much.)

I dunno why, but that really hurt. I started tearing up. I held it in until we got home, and then I started crying in the car. My mom assured me that I have time to change my mind if I want to, seeing as how she didn’t have me until she was 34. I know that I have time and that things can change, but like… I dunno. This is just what I do on my birthday… I look at my life until I hate it.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not HAPPY with my life. There’s a lot of stuff I need to fix, but I’m working on it, however slowly I get things fixed. Even if I wasn’t trying to fix things, though… like… it’s not a BAD life. I’m moderately content. Mostly I just wish I hadn’t taken on the responsibility for 5 animals (never going over 3 again), but I love those animals and I am happy to have them, even if they are a little daunting as a responsibility. I just know, now, that this isn’t ideally what I wanted. (I was very lonely… I tried to fill that loneliness with pets… it worked, but I overdid it….)

It’s Nov 2nd and I’m better now. I still don’t want kids. I’m still not real interested in marriage. Still don’t wanna go back to college again. I still feel a weird little pang of regret that I don’t have anyone to share classic 60s claymation holiday films with… but I’m sure I’ll get over it.

I’m still not happy that I’m 28.

I mean, I don’t want to stay a kid forever or anything, but like… no one wants to get older… you get older and you’re closer to death, no matter how young you are.


Feliz Dia de los Muertos.


In the indigenous, aboriginal perspective on death, both life and death are mere aspects of a common duality or eternal cycle, as denoted in the following Native American poem from North America:

Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on the snow.
I am the sunlight on the ripened grain.
I am the gentle Autumn’s rain.

When you awaken in the morning hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush
of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry:
I am not there, I did not die.

What is Death?
What is death? It is the glass of life broken into a
thousand pieces, where the soul disperses like
perfume from a flask, into the silence of the eternal night.

Unknown Author

Through the Eyes of the Soul, Day of the Dead in Mexico
Unique Life
Be as happy as you can, oh king Tecayehyatzin
You who appreciates the jewels that flourish!
Will we live again?

Your heart knows this:
We only live once!
Vida única
¡Alégrate en extremo, oh rey Tecayehuatzin,
valuador de joyas florecientes!

¿Acaso una vez más vendremos a vivir?
Tu corazón lo sabe así:
¡Sólo una vez venimos a la vida!

Xayacamachan 1510 A.D.

I’M AN ADULT! Kinda…

Quick Recap:

  • Met a guy
  • Two great dates back to back
  • Got stood up
    • Drank a whole bottle of wine and cried all night
  • He made giant apologies
  • Work ruined him taking me out the next night
    • Went out with friends instead, no big
  • Stopped hearing from him

Okay, so let me preface with: I’m not a needy girl.
I’m really not. I don’t need us to talk on the daily. I don’t get mad when you have a night out with your friends. I don’t even need to know all your friends. I don’t need gifts for all holidays. I don’t need or want to give you permission to live life. Do you, Boo Boo. Do you.

Now, when he stood me up, I was upset… BECAUSE I SPENT AN HOUR DOING MY MAKEUP, WHILE WAITING FOR HIM TO GET BACK TO ME, AFTER LEAVING WORK EARLY SO I COULD MEET HIM AT A REASONABLE TIME. I heard from him at 545, told him I was home around 6, and to let me know when he was ready to go out around 615… and then slowly wilted into a crying, sad, wreck with fucked up crying-face makeup as time went by and I heard nothing back from him. I didn’t text him 800 times. I didn’t call him drunk. I just wallowed in my misery drank a bottle of wine, and asked my friend in Australia why no one loves me…
Like a fuckin’ adult.

The next day, I got a message at 730am. He was sorry. He didn’t feel good, and laid down, and had just woken up. Did I believe it? Not entirely, but the guy is super crazy nice, and I liked him, so I was gonna let it go.
Like a fuckin’ adult.

He asked if he could take me to lunch. I told him I had plans, but that I was free that evening. We tried to make dinner plans, but with my fucked up stomach, we agreed to meet for drinks and I’d take him around town instead. I decided to do my makeup… so I looked great, and then about the time I was like 10 mins from the place and our meeting time, he let me know he wasn’t going to be able to make it… because work called him. While I was REALLY disappointed, I just resolved to go hang out with my friends at karaoke, and maybe when he was done he could come by.
Because I handle my shit like a fuckin’ adult.

He never did come by. I checked on him around 1am, and he was still at work… so I just enjoyed myself as best I could and figured I’d hear from him again later. I never heard from him again later. I zapped him some texts… a cute vid of me hanging out with my dogs… but he didn’t really wanna text with me, as far as I could tell from his texts back. They were just the obligatory kind of response that you get from people that HAVE to respond but have nothing to say. So, I just tried to leave him alone.
Like an adult.

But here’s the thing… I’m not REALLY an adult. My generation isn’t adults. Millennials fit NONE of the criterion for adulting, aside from getting jobs. We don’t like to adult. We don’t identify as adults. We will prolly never really understand the finer points of adultism, in general. Millennials just aren’t built for it. We wanna continue to play with Legos, and never have to make a phone call to setup a doctor’s appointment.
SO… I called him out on ignoring me over FB messenger today… before I had time to stop myself and be an adult… cuz like I said, I suck at being a really real adult. I didn’t make a big thing of it, though. I just talked to him normally… and then sprung on him that I felt like he’d been avoiding me, and this was me “metaphorically jabbing [him] with a stick.”

I didn’t confront him and be like, “what the fuck is your problem?” I just wanted to let him know that I wasn’t mad, I guess. I mean, I’m kind of mad that he’s been ignoring me… but I’m not mad about the missed dates. Shit happens. I was trying to understand his behavior, and it felt like he was under the impression I might not wanna see him again. He didn’t try to talk to me, but he still regularly interacted with me on social media… He didn’t ghost me, he just kept a distance… so in my terribly awkward way I tried to him know it was okay.
Which just made shit awk, obvi.

HIM: I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to ignore you.
ME: It’s okay. I just like making social encounters more awkward than they have to be. It’s like a hobby. 😛
ME: Anyways… I’ll let you get back to your family. ^_^ emoticon Hit me up sometime.
HIM:For sure
Well, I dunno if that sounds as awkward as I feel like it sounds… but I was just like… OH GOD NO WHAT DID I JUST SAY?! HAHAHAHA…. GONNA GO DIE NOW…
So, that’s about where I’m at…
Will he call? I dunno. Least I made an effort, I guess….
Mostly I just wanted this to work out because I’m SO SICK of the dating scene… People are terrible, and they’re worse when you’re trying to date them. I just want someone to go out with me on the weekends… why is that so hard?
{insert joke about a hard dick here}


So I’ve been looking for a job.

I thought you liked your job?

Yeah, I do, but I can’t keep coming here with all this ridiculous bullshit. It’s so unpleasant to come to work and know that the bitch in front you, that you trained, has tried to get you fired. She has. Since Christmas this crazy bitch has launched an assault on my BossLady Mothership and myself. So, that’s made work real fucking unpleasant.
Also, I’m getting tired of working with the Mothership. I love her. She’s not a bad boss. She just… doesn’t treat me like an employee. I am her daughter, so I have to work harder, fly higher, and never be wrong. And I’m sick of it. I’m not opposed to hard work, but this is a double standard. That maniac bitch is allowed to go out and socialize on the showroom floor because Mothership doesn’t want to correct her, but I miss getting up for break and it’s a big thing.Everywhere I’ve applied is unimpressed with my resume, though. Apparently my 9 years of work experience means nothing without a CPA… which is depressing as fuck. So, I’m looking into college again… which is frustrating in itself, because it’s just going to add to my student loan debt that NEVER FUCKING GOES AWAY. So… that’s fun. I’m depressed. I hate everything. I’m lonely. My life is not going well. Earlier today I had a thought… “Well, bitch, maybe you should have just killed yourself back on the 1st. I mean, it’s not like shit seems to be getting better.” I never said it was a positive thought.I’ve been trying to be vegan, but I’m not good at it. So then I decided to be vegetarian and eat cheese, but that really just resulted in my binge-eating cheese. So, I had to drop that shit. I like food, but I hate cooking every single night. I hate that eating meat now makes me tired, as realized when I ate some this weekend. I hate that I don’t think I’ve lost any weight. But I have 18 days left… and maybe I’ll just keep doing it. Or… close to it.I’m not gonna lie to you, I have a whole chicken thawing in my fridge right now… and I fully intend on cooking it tonight. Last night I had rabbit… I am eating LESS meat, overall. I feel good when I don’t eat meat. I don’t necessarily feel bad when I do eat meat, but not as good as I do after a non-meat meal. I recognize and appreciate the effects a meat-less diet offers. I’m attempting to eat more kinds of grain (tried quinoa last night… weird but good), and I have main veg staples that I eat, now… but vegetables are not good for binge eating.

Then don’t binge eat?

Yeah, that’s how I cope with stress, so that NOT DOING IT thing really isn’t going to work for me. Also, no one tell me to exercise to relieve stress. Exercise makes me think about suicide. There are no endorphins, there is only me and my brain doing something mindless, so it wanders off into why my life is worthless and how I should just kill myself. So save your breath, because I cannot exercise to relieve stress. Recently, since vegetables are SO BAD for binge eating, I’ve been eating cookies… and ice cream. I hate that. I don’t really like sweet shit… but it’s all I have to play with, here… I just… I am miserable… and lonely… but at the same time anyone that would want to see me I can’t stand being around right now… I’m hoping that it’s a phase that I blow out of, like all my moods… but it’s a persistent and very upsetting phase…

Day 1: Hopelessness & Me

It’s a good thing that I don’t judge the year by the first day, because if today was a valid indication of how my year will go, then I would kill myself right now.

Why was today so bad?

It didn’t start bad. I woke up, cuddled dogs, leisurely got ready for work… Then things went awry. An employee that I loathe didn’t show up till and hour and half after we opened, I didn’t bring a vegan lunch and ended up eating NOTHING vegan because it wasn’t an option, I realized I had neglected a schedule most of the year causing a large loss in revenue, and to top it all off it’s snowing.

So I already broke the one goal I had for the year… which was vegan food.
I fucked up at work.
It’s fucking snowing.
And I am just filled with an overwhelming sense of despair.

It’s moments like this that I just want to throw everything I own away, load up the dogs in the car, and just leave…
I don’t know where I’d go, I don’t know how that could make anything better, but I just want to go and not be here anymore…

So that’s where I’m at… and… I don’t know what I’m going to do with my evening, but I guarantee that it includes crying.

What Is My Life Now?

I found a journal I’ve been keeping on and off since Senior Year yesterday. Read some it… how lost I was, then.

But then I started thinking about it… and I’m not less lost now then I was. Not at all. I can’t even answer questions I used to be able to answer anymore. Older people will tell you that your 20s are meant to be when you figure out who you are, but fuck… I haven’t any kind of idea. I’ve had the same job for eight years, I live in the same house, next door to my mother…
I mean the only thing that’s really changed between 2006 and now, is that I have four dogs and a cat, instead of two dogs. I also go out significantly less. So… I guess I got more boring and became more of an animal hoarder. AND I stopped dating people… So I dropped that slut status… But is that gonna be the rest of my life?I know they say not to compare your life to the lives of others, because they don’t share your experiences and nothing will be comparable… but it’s almost impossible not to make the comparison. Social media throws it all in my face.Things other people have accomplished:

    MarriageChildrenLaw schoolNot growing up at allMoving awayGetting big awesome jobsJobs in the field in which they got their degree

I got none of that. I don’t even have a significant other… because people suck… but I haven’t really DONE anything. I got a graphic design degree from a horrible for-profit college… and that’s really the end of the achievement list. I haven’t even lost weight since high school. I gained it. It’s like my life is standing totally still.

But, then I had this scary ass thought…
I don’t wanna get married. I’m not going back to college, more than likely. I have a house and a good job here, so I’m probably not going to move any time soon. So… aside from either accidentally getting pregnant (which I don’t foresee since I’ve decided to stop banging people for good this time) or adopting a kid, there is nothing else for me to look forward to. I have no achievements left in life. That’s the most depressing thing to happen to a 25 year old, EVER.

Bird’s got a new man, and her graduation is coming up. Who knows what she’ll end up doing in the next five years.
Davy gets his bar exam scores soon and, in spite of his doubts, will probably get a lawyer job somewhere. Knowing Davy, this will take exactly five years for him to become some kind of partner in the firm and then he and his man will adopt some kids and sale off into the golden sunset.
And… that’s like the end of my friends list.

I have this horrible fear that nothing will change in my life in the next eight years… What if I wake up at 33 and I have 16 dogs, no significant other, no kids, and I’m still here at the dealership? I’m gonna kill myself, that’s what will happen… Probably not. I can’t leave dogs without a home… but for fuck’s sake. I just…

I can’t even… I’m scared. I hate this crap. Living with total uncertainty CANNOT be the endgame to life… You reach 25 and your world falls apart because it has no where left to go?What kind of shit deal is that?

Picnic Depression & Weight Gain

I’m depressed… I’ve been depressed for a while. Just… irritable and unhappy.

It really came to a head last Saturday, though. I invited 54 people to a picnic in the park. Nice park. Big park. Suggested bringing kids. Bought food and toys to play with… brought my dog, too… and…. no one showed up. It was just me, sitting alone with my dog in a park, with three bags of picnic food, looking really fucking sad.

My mom showed up, because she’s my mom. She brought sandwich stuff and chairs. Also, later a friend came and brought rum. So I wasn’t totally alone… but my feelings are STILL hurt over that. My best friend didn’t even show up. She went to the museum with the guy she’s banging, even though they’re technically broken up after dating shortly.

So, as a result of NO ONE showing up, I went home with a lot of chips and various dips… which I ate… because I was sad, and I eat when I’m sad. Couple that with not being able to go to the gym, because my knee is still injured, and yeah… I’ve gained weight.

I’m trying to be better, in spite of still being crazy depressed, but it’s really hard to eat yogurt and apples when I feel like I’m dying inside. Things just feel like they’re getting worse.

I’m going back to the gym tonight, and I’m going to go against my doctor’s advice and elliptical. If I’m approved for walking and cycling, I don’t see why elliptical would be off the table. It’s like middle ground between the two. And, if it hurts I’ll just switch to swimming laps until I drown.