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NaBloPoMoblahblippityblopbo Whatever

November is NaBloPoMoblahblippityblopbo Month which is short for National Blog Posting Month? I think? Anyway. It’s a thing. Honest. Bloggers commit to posting one post every day for the entire month of November. I don’t know how or why it started but I figured I’d give it a shot. Especially since I haven’t posted a damn thing in … oh I don’t know. EIGHT MONTHS. I could have practically gestated an entire human since the last time I wrote, but have I? No. Because I’m lazy. But I digress.

I miss this little slice of the Interwebs. I miss my friends from the comments section. I miss vomiting my thoughts out through the keyboard (hungry?). And since the world is going to end on December 21 (or is it the 12th? The 25th? One of those) I might as well keep myself busy in the mean time. Heh.

Non sequitor:

My mom and I had a craft night last night (so super fun!) and made our variations of La Calavera Catrina using styrofoam halloween skulls, some acrylic paint, and whatever bits and pieces of scraps and ribbon and crafty things she had lying around. The pictures kind of suck (thank you cell phone camera with no flash) but try and guess which two are hers and which one is mine:

….and that’s all she wrote.


Are You There Guys? It’s Me, Frosty

The blinking cursor. It taunts me. How long will I stare it down? I have no idea what to type but I can’t stand staring at that awful, evil, nasty little blinking cursor and so I will just sit here and type and type and type and type. There are so many things going on and I feel like I can’t write about any of it, I’m keeping my life locked up in little metal boxes and the keys are broken off inside the locks so you can’t ever open them again, not ever again.

It’s horrible.

I used to love this. I would sit here, happily, for hours and hours and write all about my feelings, record all the little moments. Life was easier then. Or was it? Am I glorifying the past because it’s the past and all I can remember are the pretty pictures I posted here? I have no idea. It doesn’t even matter. I’m just so, so, so tired. I’m so tired of feeling like we’re fighting, constantly, just to keep our heads above water. And I know, I know that someone is reading this and they want to punch me in the face because whatever my stupid little suburban problems are, they are nothing, nothing at all. I know. I have so much to be grateful for. And most days I’m really good at remembering it. I don’t complain. I am grateful for the things that count. Most days. And then there are days like today when I sit on the balcony with the birds and I cry. And cry. And cry. I just wish things could be easier. I wish I didn’t worry so much. I wish I was more patient and more careful, more thoughtful. I wish I had more energy. I wish I’d made better choices when I was younger but I can’t think about that now or the mean little monster who lives behind my heart will thrash around and make me say awful things to myself.

I probably sound crazy. Maybe I am.

Things have not been going according to plan. Life has been life-y because, as they say, Humans Make Plans and God Laughs or whatever it is they say. BUT STILL. Anyway. Like I said. Most days are great. We’re fine. I’m fine. We work hard and we keep our heads above water and we’re okay. Today just hasn’t been one of those days.