Monday, January 19, 2009

Ode to Monday

Ever have one of those days where you just aren’t in a good mood? I’m having one of those days today. Some might call it a “case of the Mondays”. Some might also want to get punched in the face.

One thing about me is I’m generally in a chipper mood, always smiling and nice with just a slight (read: heavy) undertone of sardonicism. But every once in a while, I’m just in a mood when I don’t want to smile, I don’t want to incessantly chatter as I often do. I just want to be…left alone. However, my often sunny attitude does not allow me a bad mood day. There’s only a couple of times a month where I feel the need to be in a bad mood and not hide it behind a big smile, but on those days someone who already annoys me finds a way to make it worse by telling me to smile or asking me what’s wrong. Can’t I just be in a bad mood? Normally I’ll shrug it off and say I’m tired or have a headache just so I can avoid the infuriation, but today was not that day. When my manager told me to smile, I simply replied with a catty “Why?” I just didn’t feel like fucking around. Later she came and asked me what’s wrong.
“Nothing. I’m just in a bad mood.”
”Did I do something? Are you mad at me?”
Now that kind of shit pissed me off more. If I’m mad at you, you’ll know it. So don’t ask me if I’m mad at you. Boo.

This day is almost over though, so that makes it better. A little closer to the birthday extravaganza. I’m off all next weekend, so maybe I’ll be over this infliction of the Mondays next week. Though who really knows how this moody bitch will feel. One can never tell, not even me.

On a side note, my dad received 2 awards this month. One of them being a lifetime achievement award. I am so proud of him. He's a great writer, poet and playwright. You should check him out (Joe Olvera) for some good reading.

Sunday, January 18, 2009

My so-called life...thus far

I'm currently at work rescuing my hair from yet another bad hair day. Doesn't seem like something I would normally worry about, but being in a new relationship does that to you...or so I've heard. I haven't been in one for about three and a half years. I don't really call the last guy I "dated" for 4 months a relationship since he didn't want to be my boyfriend but got all girly pissy at me when I slept with another guy. Pshaw, go figure. But I digress. My hair has not been cooperating with me lately and I'm real tempted to just shave it off. Not Britney Spears G.I. Jane shave it off, just normal like I did 2 years ago shave it. This is why my hair is always short. Lately I also feel like I have to look my best ALL. THE. TIME. I'm not one of those girls who wakes up before the boyfriend and freshens up her make-up and puts on the sexy lingerie, in fact, I often don't wear make-up around him. I have good skin for a reason. But he wears nice suits 90% of the time so I can't go looking all scraggly with my hair and clothes. The problem with my clothes is that I don't have enough nice ones to keep up with him.

blah blah blah

At this moment I'm having a girly-on-my-period kind of mood. Have I ever mentioned that I hate being a girl about 98% of the time? My 15 year old boy mentality doesn't help that.

Speaking of 15 year old boys. I will be turning 30 in exactly 4 days. It's weird. However, I like to think I'm pretty much the same as I was 15 years ago. Gone are the micro minis and band shirts I'd wear with a garter belt holding up my stockings with cherry red 18 hole Doc Martens on my feet. I no longer carry a plastic lunch box as my purse filled with Marlboro Mediums, dark burgundy lipstick and little girl, brightly colored plastic hair clips shaped like bows and butterflies. Not to mention the chain I wore around my neck. I've replaced the minis with pencil skirts, the docs with wedge heels, the lunch box with big purses and the dark lipstick with chapstick. I classed it up a little in my "matured" age.

I don't really feel old, per se, since I have the mentality and maturity of a 15 year old boy, it's the having a pre-teen child that makes me feel old. Even though I'll still be real young when he graduates high school and still young when the princess graduates (read: under 40, barely) I find it daunting. I've often been asked if I'm going to have another kid. To which I usually reply with a vigorous head shake and a look on my face like someone just told me I was going to be locked up in a 10x10 room with no chapstick, water, weed or tv (read: my 4 basic food groups) for a month. The boyfriend even said something about "our baby" the other night, to which I replied, "We have a baby?". "Someday," he said. Someday as in probably not gonna happen? Then yes, someday. As much as I love the guy, I'm still pretty reserved since I've had a few people let me down (read: fuck me over) in the past, so baby talk is probably a little premature, not to mention moot.

Who knows what the future is going to bring though. I try not to look too forward for fear I might stumble (read: disappointment). Es mi vida loca.