Ranteriffic

Saturdays at school are busy. Real busy. Which is usually a good thing for me. Usually. And by usually a good thing for me, I mean I make a fairly good amount of tips. Not today. I was busy all day. I made $2. TWO DOLLARS. I know it's a school, but we don't make money off the 30 plus hours we're on the floor taking clients. We're actually paying to be there. A LOT of money to be there. Not to mention that the services there are actually pretty cheap for a school owned by a $100 minimum a haircut stylist. I guess it's not so much the no tipping on haircuts because I can now whip those out in no time at all. It's mainly the color services. I did a partial highlight this morning...not to mention it was corrective, trust me her hair looked like shit...and nothing. I spent two and a half hours fixing her crappy ass hair, using two different bleaches so that her hair wouldn't fry off, because she wanted it "more blonde". And if I do say so myself, it looked pretty bitchin'. And she LOVED it. I do a lot of corrective color, and I'm good at it. I don't even really need the instructors to help me anymore. And to not be tipped for it, well, that sucks a monkey's ass.

There are some people out there, believe it or not, who don't like me. Usually for something I had nothing to do with. If you don't like me, fine, you don't like me. I probably don't like you back, and even if I do, I could care less. I'm too old for that kind of shit and have more important things to worry about (read: my kids). So if you feel the need to talk shit, do it to my face and not hidden behind a computer using subtext in a blog. Because chances are, someone that likes me will read it and tell me about it. Just for the record, me writing about it here means nothing, it's just a rant. If I did something mean or shitty to you, then fine, talk shit. But when I did absolutely nothing to cause a shitty situation, well get over it. And that is pretty much all I'm going to say about that. Like I said before, I have more important things to worry about...like raising my kids to be good people and not complete assholes...making sure they complete school to make something of themselves...keeping them well fed, well groomed and all around happy. Which they are, so pat on my back

I'm not a huge fan of people right now. Not that I am in general, but people as a whole generally piss me off. I know I'm not the most perfect person, but I know I'm not a complete shitbag like other inhabitants of this planet. Grrrrrr.

Just for the record, today's weather is moody with a 98% chance of drunkenness. Not to mention some fun with the wife and possible loving from the new guy. Although there is a possible chance that I've worn him out this week. I'm good like that.

Bitchy is as bitchy does

Today is National Shit on Mal Day. Everyone's doing it, so join in. The ex-and-mom government are in full support of this day and encourage you to participate to the fullest extent.

Just for the record, it's holidays like this that make me want to pick up and disappear. Then maybe "the government" will actually see that I do a lot and those kiddo's are very well taken care of, smart and happy. Blindness must run in the family. At least where those two are concerned.

Honestly, if I do such a bad job, then why doesn't the ex take the kids away from me? Because then he'd have to take them to school everyday, bathe them and basically do things that aren't just fun. And the mom, well, you'd think since she's a social worker, if I'm so bad at being a parent, she would call CPS. She doesn't. Why? Because she knows. She knows she's wrong. She just doesn't know how to deal with her shit, so she takes it out on anyone around her. I'm the best for target practice, it seems.

Take a few drinks. A couple of pills. Repeat.

The next Rockette

I rocked another night of karaoke. There may have been one or two bad renditions of a song here and there, but I sure know how to entertain. Example: for mine and Angela's rendition of 'I got you babe', I sported a black wig as we were on stage. That's right. I'm getting more comfortable with this whole being in front of a group of people making an ass out of myself. Next stop, American Idol. Not really. I did, however, find another weekly song, besides 'Crazy' (though I haven't sang that the past two times), and that is 'Heaven is a place on Earth'. How can I not rock Belinda Carlisle and why did I never think to sing it before? I actually sang a lot of songs last night. Bon Jovi's 'You give love a bad name' (complete with dedication), Lita Ford, of course, and don't forget Pat Benetar. Good shit. I got way too drunk though and had to go home from school early because I pretty much wanted to die. Alcoholic isn't the right term, but it's the first that comes to mind.

I'm so not drinking tonight. No joke.

Now it's time for me to stop lazing around and take care of the munchkins. The princess is becoming more and more like me every day...and let me tell you, it's scary. I don't know if the world is ready for two Mal's. She went to school today rockin' a 'fohawk' and an outfit I would probably sport...minus the cleavage, of course. I told her I was glad she was my daughter...and she responded that she was glad I was her mom because I'm "gothic". What 6 year old says that? Mine does, apparently. As much as I'm not a kid person, the genius and the princess are pretty bitchin' kids...that is when they're not trying to beat each other up. Little freakishly strong mutants. Just like their daddy.

Time to veg out and not leave my bed until it's time to go to school tomorrow morning. Just for the record, there's always a first for everything.

Rantastical

I had a field trip to the Arizona Science Center today to see the body exhibit...I want to go back.

People in Az DO NOT...I repeat...DO NOT know how to drive. I had pretty much the worst road rage driving back to school because assholes don't know that they can go over 50 mph in the carpool lane. Grrrrr.

Couldn't sleep last night. Too much walking today. Tired. BUT we took some pretty amazing pictures, so that was fun.

I just realized that my ex-boyfriend/short-lived-fiancee is supposed to get married in like 2 days. Weird. Surprisingly though, I'm not pissed about it anymore. I guess I'm pretty much over it completely, considering I never got closure. You know, that thing that the complicated girls never get. Probably because I had an amazing night with the new guy last night. That helps. Cheers to the new guy.

I guess I guess I don't really have that much to rant about. I'm just...complacent. Especially now that I know that my week-long headache was due to a brand new sinus infection. Thank you Arizona weather. Take a few drinks. A couple of sinus pills. Repeat.

Closure is a girls best friend

As I was sitting at home today waiting to take the princess to school, I started to watch High Fidelity. If you haven't seen it, it's about John Cusack and his search for closure and himself in the midst of a current breakup. His search includes a bevy of lost loves he contacts to find out why they left him. That's the jist of it, anyway. And I started thinking about my past relationships.

I've only had two actual relationships. The first one that eventually ended in divorce and the second one which gave me no closure.

The ex and I met in high school. I'd had a crush on him in junior high because he had a cute butt and this amazing long, red, curly hair. In high school, I pursued him. We had a mutual friend and I got his number. We started dating and everything was kosher. Then I got knocked up with the genius. It's weird the amount of shit we've been through. We basically grew up together...and at the same time, grew apart. Things are different when you're in high school to when you have actual responsibilities and "grown up" duties when you're still a teenager. But through our ups and downs, we made it, and in the process have raised some pretty amazing kids. Eight and a half years of marriage. That's a long time. But now we get along great. When I tell people that, mostly the reaction is, "Why don't you get back together then if you get along so great?" My answer to that is, "We get along great as friends and nothing more." They don't really seem to understand. We grew apart, but at the same time, grew into a bit of a brother/sister type relationship. I was once told that it should be easy to just forget about him and erase him from my life. Impossible. He is, after all, the father of my children and there is no way he would ever not be in my life and vice versa. As far as the relationship goes though, that chapter of my life is closed.

Next chapter, my relationship with the weasel. I don't even really know how to describe it. It was fast, that's for sure. I'm not going to go into that much detail with this one, mainly because it was only about five months of sitting around and getting high and doing nothing. Also because I still don't really know what happened there. With this one, I got no closure. Finding out on myspace that he's engaged to someone else (i will not vilify other people no matter how badly i want to) and then getting dumped via e-mail, to me, does not closure make. So that was the end of that lobotomized chapter.
Main Entry: clo·sure
Pronunciation: 'klO-zh&r
Function: noun
1. : an often comforting or satisfying sense of finality ; also : something (as a satisfying ending) that provides such a sense

Fast forward to now with the new guy. It's been a little over two months, but I wouldn't really call it a relationship. I call it a "thing". We're taking it nice and slow. No labels, no expectations...just chill and relaxed and enjoying each other's company. Who knows what will happen here, after all, this chapter is still being written. But he did meet the kids yesterday. We had a birthday party for the princess and I invited him. I don't think it was too bad. The ex was there, of course, with his family, my family and some friends were there. It was a good night. And I think it went pretty well, not just the party, the new guy being there. The thing I liked best about that part was when aaron AND the new guy tag team (get your mind out of the gutter) teased me. They're cool with each other...so far...and that's important, being that the ex WILL be in my life as well as the kids' lives.

I know I overthink things a little too much, but my mind is a constant battlefield of thoughts and I can't help it. Although, yesterday, I got my chakra's cleansed. I know, it sounds funny, but it was pretty amazing. My heart chakra was blocked, I'm not really surprised. I closed myself up. It happens, you're in a bad relationship, and you don't want to let anybody in. I don't share myself easily, always wary of getting hurt. But I have let him in, just a little. So we'll see where this goes. Can't wait wait to see the ending. It's like a surprise you get in July that's supposed to be a 'do not open til Christmas' type of thing. Only time will tell.

All in all though, I think everyone needs closure. It helps the healing process begin. All that happens when there is no closure is bitterness, cynicism and pessimism build up and boil till a part of you is lost and can't see a way out. It sucks. I'm sure most of you know what I'm talking about. Take a couple of drinks. A few pills. Repeat.

I'm happy right now, and that's all that matters though...at least in this point in time. Things have been worse and at this point, I believe (hope mostly) that things can only get better from here. Just for the record, today's weather is hopeful with a chance of possibilities.

I put the ass in classy

Hickies are SO last season. So that means I am completely out of style. And apparently in 7th grade. Classy isn't the right word, but it's the first that comes to mind.

It's karaoke night down at O'Kelley's. Pat Benetar. Maybe Joan Jett. Mr. Big. We'll see how many songs they let me do before they realize I can't sing and they have to pry the microphone out of my little midget hands. Oh, and my voice is way more raspy than usual...losing it again. As my other personality, "The Tranny" would say, "Do you think he likes chicks with dicks?"

I am very quite possibly not making much sense right now. That tends to happen when you're stressed out helping the genius with his last minute science project, take a soma, are surviving on about 4 hours of sleep and have received the dreaded "curse". For the record, the weather forecast is loopy with slight chances of bitchiness and sarcasm.

Adventures in Whoreland

I came to a realization this weekend. I realized that the new guy is pretty much the only guy I want to sleep with. Boyfriend or not.

I had a great time all weekend long, granted, a sleepless one, but fun nonetheless. But in the midst of my Sunday morning fun, I found myself missing him and not really into what I was doing. Gay, I know. But I don't really care.

It's been two months since I started hanging out with the new guy, and while I still feel bitter about the last time I got screwed over, I still plan on taking things slow this time.

Epiphany isn't the right word, but it's the first that comes to mind.

Misadventures in Horrorland

I am currently surviving on about 5 hours of sleep for this entire weekend. don't ask me how I do it in my old age, but I do. Not to mention that I had to, last minute, put together and host Easter lunch at my place for the ex and his family. Don't ask.

Let's start with Thursday. I wanted to sing karaoke. Like bad. So after school, I called up the crew (read: the wife) and headed out to O'Kelley's. Right when I got there Gina was ready for me to put in my songs. I hate singing alone, so I was trying to persuade her to sing with me. She refused. So I was trying to find a song, but the new guy was there with me and I was kind of nervous because I'd never sang in front of him before and, well, I was just nervous. So after much deliberation, I chose a song. After only a beer and a half, it was my turn. I sang sober. By myself. But I rocked Heartbreaker like it was nobody's business. Then Angela and I decided to rock out together, so we chose Mr. Big and Lita Ford. Still not drunk, and faster than I could say karaoke, it was our turn. She insisted we go on stage to sing. I refused. She kept on it and the new guy and others joined in. Since I'm susceptible to peer pressure, I caved. Off to the stage I sauntered. Lita Ford came on and I started singing my little heart out. I got THEE biggest adrenaline rush. I danced, I sang, I conquered. And a dude gave us each a dollar. All in all I gave a good show. I sang another song, but I'm proudest that I actually got up on a stage in a crowded bar and belted out Pat Benetar. And I wasn't even drunk.

Next morning I woke up way too tired and not wanting to wake up. But alas, I can't miss much school...at least for the rest of this term. So I drove my unhappy, non-morning person ass to school. I was only booked with two haircuts. I know I used to bitch all the time about how many highlights I was getting a day...well now I say I should've knocked on wood. Haircuts are boring and I just want to do color. So anyway, my first client gave me a $20 tip on a $15 haircut. F'n F'yeah. I'm a baller now. That was pretty much the highlight of my day. I go home and pass out. I was so tired from all the singing and drinking the night before and school. I actually passed out with a beer in my hand. I woke up to the ex standing over me laughing about said beer in my hand while the princess was repeatedly saying mommy. The ex left and the kids went about their business as I passed out again. I awoke, sweaty and uncomfortable about an hour later to find the princess cuddled up next to me, long leg draped over me, passed out and sweaty. I carried her to her bed, which isn't easy considering she's a little more than half my size and weighs in at approximately 60 pounds. I went back to my bed and passed out. Again. I woke up about and hour or so later with no real intention of going out. But of course, at about 10:30, the wife calls and peer pressures me into going to Jupes. Well, I guess I wouldn't say pressured so much as demanded. So I get ready and go. Sidebar: the new guy was supposed to be on a plane to Cali to visit his kids for Easter. So I'm at Jupes where I drank a couple of beers and I was getting ready to leave since I only wanted to go for an hour or so. I look up and there's my new guy. Of course I stayed. And drank more. And by more, I mean shots. At some point in the night the new guy wanted to take me to his place to show me around since I hadn't been there yet. We were outside and I didn't have my purse, but he said we'd be back shortly and to just leave it. So off we went. He showed me around and then he showed me some pictures of his family and what not. When we were done I stood to hint that I needed to go back to the bar since we had been there for about an hour and my purse was still at the bar and it was almost closing time. He wanted me to spend the night. He took me back to get my purse. Now the smart thing for me at this point would have been to get in my car and follow him back. I'm not that smart. At least not at that point in time since it'd been nearly two weeks since we'd had sex, I was a little distracted. Sidenote: contrary to popular belief, women DO think about sex that way.

So we go back, have some coital fun and he falls asleep. It's about 3 a.m. and I had told him that I needed to be home at least by 6 since I had the mom's car and I had to get ready for school and all that good stuff. He had to wake up at 4:30 to go and try to catch the next flight out, so I waited. I only slept for about a half hour since I was anxious and paranoid that I would sleep in. 4:15 rolls around and I start trying to wake him up. About 45 minutes later, he's still not responding. I start searching my pretty little head for friends that might be up at five in the morning and love me enough to pick me up to take me to my car. The wife was at the best friends place in North Tempe and three sheets to the wind, so that was a no go. Next was Clint. He was otherwise occupied. I couldn't think of anyone else who would be up at five in the morning and in the area. I tried one more wake up and nothing. I slipped on my chuck's and thought to myself, fuck it I'm walking. So I got my shit and hoofed it. The bar is only about a half mile from where he lives, so it wasn't bad at all. By the time I got home at 5:30 though, I was fully energized from my brisk morning walk and couldn't fall asleep. Then the princess woke up. Then the genius...who happened to be sick and throwing up.

Needless to say, school that day was rough. Although I mostly sat outside and chain smoked since I'd only had two clients for cuts which took me about a half hour each.

When I got home after, I wanted to sleep so bad before the derby game, but the wife needed me to pick her up. No nap for Mal. And that night...that night, I can't even talk about because it was pretty much one of the weirdest nights of my life. Though I will say this...At Casey's this scraggly older lady with herpes on the mouth sat at my table and started talking to me. She started telling me I was "so pretty", "so gorgeous", "so awesome". She then whips out a camera and wants to take my picture. Weird. On the plus side of the weirdness, she bought me a drink which was awesome since I had no money. The shit this woman...married-soon-to-be-divorced to a man...was saying to me, I can't even repeat. But like I said, she was buying me drinks. I know, I'm a whore. And the rest of the night, well, I'm just still in awe of the shit that went down, I can't even talk about it. Oh, and this was after I threw up everything I'd eaten for the past week, and was left still completely wasted. Go Figure. Stupid Jaeger bombers. Wait, I didn't meant it, I love them. But that last one was what triggered it. I shot it, wooed, then proceeded directly to the bathroom. Pass go and collect $200.

All in all a good, strange weekend. It ended nice with an Easter late lunch and my extremely smart, extremely cute (read: i'm biased) kids. The princess fell asleep in my arms...all legs of her.

I must say, I truly live a double life. There are no lies involved, no acting different cause I'm pretty much the same person all around, but a double life nonetheless.

Multiple personality isn't the correct disorder, but it's the first that comes to mind.

Blah blah blah blah blah blah

You know, everytime I go to write something lately, I just don't feel it. I just had a whole paragraph written out but I erased it because I just didn't...feel it. I'm bored with myself...lonely...irritated. So what else is new, you may ask? I guess nothing. I'm in a rut, plain and simple. What's going to get me out of this rut? I have no idea. I guess I'll just have to wait and see how this chapter of my so-called life turns out.