Woweee!  100 people reading my jib jab!  I am truly honored!

Thank you all who tune in to my random word vomit, thoughts, ethos, rants and so on. 


Cara Mia

Oh who am I fooling?

I can’t even get a Hey!  Can’t wait to see you.  Pppbbbblllt. 


But for reals……true love and devotion….my kind of happily ever after.

Take this Job and Shove It.

This job is killing my creative soul.  It’s crushing it.  So much so, that I have to talk myself into going into the building each day.

It’s always tough starting somewhere new.  Either people welcome you or they don’t.  In most cases, I am not one who is usually welcomed.  I don’t know why either.  I’m nice.  I’m not rude or smelly.  I smile.  I make small talk, and listen to people talk about their lives and the weather.  Other than that, I’m quiet and I do my job.

This place happens to be one of those places.

No one talks to me.

People rarely smile when I smile at them.

When I hold doors open for people, I get grunts or mmhmms instead of thank yous.

It’s just not a friendly environment.  Unless you’re “in”.  And I am not “in”.

Problem here too, is that EVERYONE tries to get all up in your business, so that they can run to the superiors and tattle on what you’re doing.
I’ve been accused several times of bringing my phone in. 
Cell phones are not allowed in the building…but for some reason the MP3 player I have seems to “set” off the camera (which by the way is pointed directly at the back of my head….and no one else’s in my department.)

I even had the head of HR come up to me and chew my ass out in front of everyone about how she will be damned to let someone screw up 3 years of some ISO compliance bullshit they worked so hard for.

Side note*  This woman PRIDES herself on being a bitch.  That’s sad.  Anyone who identifies themselves with negative traits as a source of power is an asshole in my book….and just because you admit to being a bitch….”hee hee”…doesn’t give you the moral right to continue on being one.  If you’re gonna own up to a flaw, then own up to righting it.  Not living it.

Anyways, where was I?

Oh yes. 
So this whole no cell phone bullshit.  I mean, I get it….with your ISO bullcrap…but I have no interest in “stealing” this information.  I mean think about it….these people are already so in debt, what gain would I have?  Duh.
So while she is making her big to do, not listening to what I am trying to tell her, I notice that a coworker of mine…..has been using her cell phone as an MP3 player.

Yet I’m the asshole. 

I can’t even sit at my desk and doodle for a few minutes to clear my head out before proceeding onto the next redundant mind numbing task with out someone running off and saying something. 

I mean in all seriousness…the movie Office Space, when he says that he probably only does like 20 mins of “real” work….it’s so true. 

And don’t even get me started on the womens bathrooms.  Wtf??  Gross.  Why is there even piss on the floor???


I’ve been looking.  Since I started this gig.  I’ve sent out about 50 resumes and gone on one interview.  Its depressing.  It’s part of why I am in this funk.

I cleaned my desk out just about, because I am hoping the intent to not make this place a permanent fixture in my life will prompt the universe to open some doors….windows…manhole covers….anything.

So yeah. 
Fuck this job.  I gave it 60 days, to see how I would feel.  This is how I feel.  It can go eat a bag of dicks up.



(Tree I made out of label stickers over the past month…because I am so goddamn bored.)

I Miss Dick.

The world misses you Mr. Feynman.  We need more bongo playing, safe cracking, practical jokester physicists who have a way with the ladies.


Blame it on the Rain.

A few nights ago I had this dream where I was standing in the driveway in front of my parent’s garage.  It was pouring rain.  Like big fat raindrops just soaking everything.  I remember thinking that I should have felt colder than I was, but then again, I don’t recall feeling temperature differences in dreams.
Normally, my dreams are brought to me in Technicolor, but this dream was sepia. 
My sister was standing there with me and I could tell that she was incredibly upset.  I got the feeling that she was upset over some dipshit guy she was dating who repeatedly fucked her over, lied to her and broke her heart. 

I remember staring at her for a second, and then I just said to her “Walk your truth.”  I then turned around to leave, but not before cupping my hands to catch the pouring rain and splashing the collected rainwater onto myself.

(A playful little move I do in the shower with a special someone.  Now you know my secret to wooing.)

Now, normally my dreams are really …..bizarre.  (I love my dreams btw) Usually when I awake and recall them, I can see why such and such made an appearance.  Most of the time when I recall, I’m just like….What the fuck???  (Like the dream I had a week ago where Jeepers Creepers was trying to electrocute me, and I used a metal shelf to absorb the electricity….makes perfect sense right?)

I also like to believe that no matter how absurd or mundane a dream may be, that there ARE some elements to them….messages.. that come from my subconscious… the universe….spirit guides….too many late night cheeseburgers…

This dream I feel, was so from my subconscious….and so direct and to the point.

It wasn’t so much me telling my sister to walk her truth, but it was me telling ME to walk my truth.  Her appearance in the dream, upset over some twatwaffle, was actually a representation of ME. 

Our romantic lives run pretty much parallel to each other, so I’m guessing my subconscious, guides, universe, cheeseburger used her image to get my attention. Got me to focus in on the distress that I have often found myself in, over someone who has done me wrong. And in my attempts to “right” or “fix” or out hope that they will recognize their truth, I have pretty much shut myself away.

I have spent so much time worrying, hurting and being anxious, that those parts have taken over.

The dream taking place in the rain only solidifies that I need to just rid myself of those “weights”, and when you throw in the fact that I was splashing myself….and the fact that I was doing my little playful splashy splash, well…..bottom line….I have not been in touch with my playful carefree me…..all because I became so bogged down in all that shit.

I lost my authentic me.

And fuck that. That’s some bullshit. Because if you ask me….my authentic me is pretty damn bitchin…and shame on a dickwank for not recognizing…or appreciating. And shame on me for losing sight of it. Especially considering that it was a mantra of mine for so long.

So walk your truths my friends. No matter what. No matter who.