Ah Bugger

The vapid utterings of a neurotic mind.

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Location: DC, United States

I ain't too proud to bug.

Monday, May 23, 2005

So empty.

I must have been wishing so hard that I almost believed it because when I came home and I was all alone, I wanted to cry. I don't know what dream world I let myself escape to for a brief moment. I spent the evening with a group of people who have been away from their families for over a week, and they miss them. And I got all caught up in being loved and going home to someone waiting and I must have wished so hard I thought it could come true.

Sunday, May 22, 2005

Smile, though your heart is breaking.

What does it take to be happy?
I don't mean happy in the moment, I mean happy. I mean spending more time being happy than sad or mad. What does it take? What moment changes a person's outlook so that they view their experiences with gladness rather than contemplating what went wrong or how it could have been better?
Why are we so fearful? Why did the woman whose family happiness I admired suddenly snatch her child to her when she noticed my glance? Why do women react so arrogantly when they are complimented by another woman? Why does everything always seem to be a competition. (Not just amongst women, amongst everyone.)
Why aren't we happier? And what can we do to fix this?
No one I know is happy. Everyone is always looking behind them at failures they can no longer fix. Everyone is wondering why they can't make their lives better; earn more money; have more prestige; find love.
Can anyone tell me why we negate ourselves so much? "I'm so fat." "I'm not as pretty as she is." "I am not smart enough." We do it so much that we can't believe it when someone is attracted or believes in us.
My girlfriend and I went to Las Vegas one year and our rule for the trip was that we could not say anything negative about ourselves. If I looked in the mirror, I had to find all the good things I saw. Never once did either of us utter, "Damn, I look fat in these jeans." Every night we went out feeling like the prettiest girls in the world. And we had a wonderful time. So why did we leave that behavior in Las Vegas? (Oh yeah, what happens in Vegas...) This simple game worked wonders.
Why aren't we happy?
Why aren't I happy? I am healthy. I have a decent job with a decent salary. I have a couple of good friends. I have a fantastic family. I have a great home and a great car. I have cable television and internet access. I have been in love. I am fairly attractive. I am not over nor under weight. I have no major issues to concern myself with. (Though sometimes I wonder if I did have some major obstacle, would that make me work harder and therefore appreciate the things I have, more?) I'm not happy. I am not depressed, either. I spend a lot of my time in a happy state of mind. And it is not hard for me to enjoy myself. But put me into a room with myself and I am not happy. I see this in so manyof my friends, and people I meet.
What does it take to be happy?
Can you just decide to be happy? Kind of like us deciding to be hot chicks in LV? Does there have to be a moment in time that just changes your outlook? For example, do you have to survive an accident to suddenly realize how good you have it? That just does not sit well with me, because I realize how good I have it, and yet I still can't seem to grasp happiness. Do you have to know what you want so you can aspire to achieve it to be happy? That might pose a problem for me. I have no idea what I want. How do I go about finding it?
Are people so mean to one another because they are unhappy?
I hate myself when I am mean, and yet sometimes people are so mean to me that I take it out on the next person whom I come across. Then I hate myself even more. So I try to be nice, even when they are mean, and it makes me feel weak and that makes me feel small. But I still know it is better than always being mean. I never feel good about being mean.
I want my happiness. I want to wake up in the morning excited about the day. I don't know how to get there.
What does it take to be happy? And why are we so bad at finding it?

Wednesday, May 18, 2005

Comment allez vous?

You guys do not leave nearly enough comments. Please. I know it's stupid to beg. But I am doing it anyway. Ya'll make me feel cheap. You come, you read, and you go. Hello! I am a blog. With needs. Comment on my beauty or suckiness. You want something? Ask for it. I need this to be a bit more interactive. Love you all. Need a hug. No more wine. Please and Thank you. I miss my mommy. Booze on a school night is a bad idea. I blame you, Marci. ( Because you are my best friend and I know you will let me.)

Need some help.

Okay, I am going through a bit of identity crisis. I am trying out a bunch of new things to try to figure out who I am. But I am hopelessly uncreative and therefore I am asking you, my friends, for some assignments. I need to try some new things. Can you all offer up some ideas or things for me to do? I will try almost anything. I need a chance to grow beyond what I am right now.
My assignment to you is to come up with some things you'd like to see me try. I will do my damndest and then tell ya'll about it.
Also, any requests on what I should write about. C'mon people. Gimme some feedback. Love ya all. XOXOXOXO

American Idol Update

I'll bet you all thought I forgot that I am obsessed with this show. Wel, you are FOOLS! I love television.
Okay, so I just want to give a brief synopsis of my feelings on the final three contestants on the show.
Vonzell: You are a cute girl, bubbling with personality, but not enough to get away with the hijinx you try to get away with on stage. Seriously, girl, just sing the freakin' song. I don't need you cheering me on, nor do I need your bizarre looks into the camera that demonstrate how much you are "enjoying being on stage". You can sing. Bank on your talent and your personability. Quit with the overindulgent crap. You aren't gonna win.

Carrie: Damn, you are such a cute girl. So pretty. You have a great voice. Unfortunately, you have no personality. Therefore you are jacking me over as I picked you to win the game. Oh, Carrie. Figure yourself out and follow through. You could get away with about anything. People like you. I am afraid you ain't gonna win.

Bo: Okay, you win. You got it. You know who you are. You are a rockstar. You have big nostrils andyou will be the next American Idol. (Though I hope, for your sake, that you come in second, because you don't wanna be a popstar.)

Fantasia... Seriously??? The girl sounds like she has a sinus infection. She won last year? How much faith can one have in the results of this contest?

Last thing... Woo booze.. I need it to get through a whole show.

Simon: I heart you. Gimme a call.

Paula: stop calling me. It's not going to happen.

Monday, May 16, 2005

Funny bugger

I was walking into my house from the street, not paying attention to where I was stepping. I looked down and realized I almost stepped on a caterpillar. Had I tread on him, I would have been a caterKiller!!!

(Where do I come up with these priceless gems?!?)

Thursday, May 12, 2005


I went and hit golf balls after work today. I lined my little club face up with the ball, I straightened my arms, bent my knees, took a deep breath, put my head down and swung. I hit most balls pretty well. They started off straight at my target and suddenly arced to the right. Every single time. I tried everything to correct this. I changed my stance. I kept my head down longer. I tried bringing the club around slower. It never failed to arc right.
Maybe life is like this sometimes, too. Maybe things don't go the way we want and we change all the ways we handle the situation, yet the ball still arcs to the right. Maybe that is just the way it is supposed to go.
But do you keep trying to perfect that swing, or do you just let it go?

Tuesday, May 10, 2005

If you have something nice to say, don't say anything at all.

Please stop saying nice things to me. I know that seems like a strange request, but every time someone tells me how nice I am, I feel like a fraud. I don't want to hear it anymore. At least not until it actually means something. Thank you.

Try it! I'll like it.

One thing I have learned recently is that if you don't release all inhibitions and truly experience something, you'll never know how great it is.
Take owning a dog, for example. If you don't let your whole heart love that dog, having him will always seem like a burden more than a joy. But if you revel in him, your love will be even deeper than you could ever have thought possible.
But if you are not willing to let go of your inhibitions, you will always lose those things that could have been the best experiences for you. And you will never know what you could have had. Doesn't that seem so sad?

Monday, May 09, 2005

My idol

There is a woman in California who has adopted over 30 special needs boys from all over the world. She takes care of them all with the help of her quadriplegic husband.
She spends all day, every day caring for these boys. She has given her entire life to care for boys that other people basically threw away. Not only that but one child has severe brain damage due to being abused. Abused! I don't think this woman gave birth to any of her children, yet she loves them all more so much that her entire existence is based on taking care of them. She has no intention of stopping, either. It makes it impossible to think that someone destroyed their own perfect child. Thank God she is there to take care of him for them.
Looking at this woman's life makes me realize that life may make me cry, but I am so lucky and I hope that someday I will have a tenth as much love to give to someone as this woman does. I wish I could be half the person she is.
Lord knows I have the most amazing role model. My mother took every stone life has lobbed at her and hit it wayyyyyyyy out. She sacrificed everything for her family and never once complained about anything. (Except the lack of salmon on her salmon and bagel for brunch on sundays.) She is the most intelligent person I have ever come into contact with. I know for certain that I have experienced far more than my share because of her desire to show me the world. I have always taken it for granted. I have never loved nor been loved like by my mother.
I love you more than the most and I hope I can ever live up to the standard you have set.
XOXO Mami.
Du bist mein Schatz!


I am a damn good cook. I made myself chicken witha yummy coating. So tender. (I know, I hate that! But not this time. This time it was fantastic!) I made peas, and had a nice glass of a Malbec blend wine.
I got mix for turtle brownies. (Mmm. Caramel, Marci) and stuff for rice Kripsy treats. (HA! Typos are funny. I totally had typed Rice Krispy teats. Ew.)
Anyhoo, I might need to be taken to the hospital because I may have broken my arm in all my patting myself on the back!

So maybe not EVERYONE looks like me, but they all seem to ache like me.

I used to think Fiona Apple and I were similar in looks. I realize now that I was probably smoking crack. She does, however, have the soundtrack to my life in her collection. I was not going to share it with anyone outside of my closest friends, but on my way home from work today I realized that I don't need to censor my feelings. Therefore, I am giving you my soundtrack. Both songs are Fiona Apple's "When the Pawn" CD. The first one, I Know, had been my song for a few years. The second, I decided is too personal to share yet. I will say that it is on that CD and that the whole CD is fitting my state of mind to one degree or another right now.
Thank God for music. Thank God there is a 4 minute musical pill to let you feel your hurt and sorrow and anger so completely and then maybe take a little part of it away. Who knows what my songs will be next week. I hope they are not the same.
If it does not make sense to you, don't worry. I think this blog was more for me than for anyone else.
But for now, I am sorry if this makes you uncomfortable, this little peek into my heart. If it does, then quit reading for goodness sakes.

I Know: Fiona Apple
So be it, I'm your crowbar If that's what I am so far Until you get out of this mess And I will pretend That I don't know of your sins Until you are ready to confess But all the time, all the time I'll know, I'll know And you can use my skin To bury secrets in And I will settle you down And at my own suggestion, I will ask no questions While I do my thing in the background But all the time, all the time I'll know, I'll know. Baby-I can't help you out, while she's still around So for the time being, I'm being patient And amidst this bitterness If you'll just consider this-even if it don't make sense All the time-give it time And when the crowd becomes your burden And you've early closed your curtains, I'll wait by the backstage door While you try to find the lines to speak your mind And pry it open, hoping for an encore And if it gets too late, for me to wait For you to find you love me, and tell me so. It's ok, don't need to say it.

Sunday, May 08, 2005

People suck.

You suck and you suck. Just thought you should know.

Saturday, May 07, 2005

That is so groinular. FOR REAL!

Oh glorious night of girls out! Jen and Marci and I met out tonight. We found a new place on the Hill and managed to score rockstar parking right out front. I think it's cause we are so pretty. Marci thinks so too. I got hit on by the door guy. Jen got hit on by scary married guy who thinks it is a great idea to sleep with non-spousal girls. We told him he sucks and to beat it. Then Marci and I went to a neighborhood bar where we met these random arseholes. The one guy, [name], tried to hang out with us and we blew him off. He then told us that he was getting married and this was his bachelor week. We were like oohh.... great, ya limp handshaker... Beat it! Then he came back and told us that we were the reason he was getting married. And we said OH NO! Except not really. We kind of did not care so much. Or at all... So good luck marrying your loser girlfriend, ya loser. Then he kept coming back...with gifts... Um, we are the reason you are getting married... GO AWAY! No? Oh, you wanna tell me how great my ass is? Oh, I am a bitch. Swell. What the hell is going on? Why Does he keep coming back? You hate us. We don't care. Beat it.
Then the lights came on. Yikes. The horror. Then we went home and I am making Marci spend the night. And she is making me really strong screwdrivers. NO, you can't spoon me, Marci. I am saving myself for... . Okay, maybe just a little snuggle... (sorry Mama, and Aunt Gloria... This is what booze and a broken heart will do..)

Marci loves everyone, except [name]...

Friday, May 06, 2005

Happy Cinco de Mayo

¡Happy Cinco de Mayo, mis amigos! ¡Es otro día de emborrachar al azarese yo participaría cariñosamente adentro, aunque no tengo ningunaidea qué estoy celebrando! Amo el quinto día de mayo. ¡Es el mejor díaadentro puede sangría de Wooooo! ¡Yay, tacos!

Translation available though altavista bable fish

Original message:
Happy Cinco de Mayo, my friends! It is another day of random boozingthat I would lovingly participate in, even though I have no idea whatI am celebrating! I love the fifth day of May. It is the best day inMay. Wooooo Sangria! Yay, tacos!

Wednesday, May 04, 2005

Party of one

What is up with the girls that have been engaged a mazillion times? What is it about them? Are there some people that are just more marryable than others?
Is marryable even a word?
I am 31 and a half years old. I have never been engaged. I have only been proposed to once and that was by a leathery 30+ guy who was a day trader from LA who happened to meet me at a Hawaiian Tropic Pageant in Las Vegas. I am not sure why he proposed, or how serious he was. But that was the only time I have been proposed to.
I want to get married. I want to cook dinner for my fella and rub his feet and make him feel good about himself. But somehow I am lacking that "girlfriend" gene or that marryable gene. (there's that word again.) I guess I would not mind if I understood what was so fundamentally unappealing about me. Maybe not unappealing, but what was lacking in me that people want in a mate?
Hell, I have heard more excuses as to why people don't want to be with me than I have ever gotten requests for dates. And, not to blow my own horn or anything, I am kind of cute. I would like to think I am nice, and (maybe this is the big problem, because I think too much) I am not an idiot.
What is it guys are looking for? I have no idea. Maybe someone can fill me in.
But, if I hear one more time "It's not you, it's me." I am going to hurt someone.

5 down...5 letters... cr_zy...?

When things are stressing me out, I do crossword puzzles or color in a coloring book. Don't make fun. I know it is unusual. There is something about filling in the various blocks with color that is soothing. It is such a mindless activity and it calms me. I like to use the crayons that have really rich pigment like denim or burnt sienna. When I am done with the page, it takes a bit of the pain from me. I think by focusing all of my attention on something so inane, it helps me deal with issues I don't truly want to face and helps me comprehend my feelings. If not that, then it takes me away from my pain for a few minutes. When my dad died, I was constantly doing crossword puzzles. It was almost like if I could finish the puzzle, I would keep the reality away from me of what I had lost. Coloring in a coloring book, or doing a crossword puzzle stops the constant hammering of thought in my head. If something is truly bothering me, then I can't stop thinking about it, analyzing it, yet never coming to any conclusions. I just beat myself up. I don't want to think so much.

Monday, May 02, 2005

Hello, my name is...

In a huge crowd is where I am sometimes the loneliest. All those faces that I don't know have lives, stories, histories that I have no concept of. They are just faces that I don't know. I feel like a voyeur watching their interactions. I see a mother hold her child, a couple touch, friends laugh. I watch. I may never see them again, but for a fleeting moment, they were in my life. I like to be invisible, sometimes. I like to look into strangers' lives and see what others have and do and feel. It's such a simplicity, the way people interact with one another. It is a strange feeling to be in the middle of it all and not be involved in any way. But in the same vein, it makes me melancholy. It's lonely being a watcher.

I have also been the watched. It's a completely different experience. It's all encompassing to be actively involved in a moment, in a situation. You don't have time to witness things because you are too busy experiencing them.

I think I appreciate the moments in which I am involved because I have appreciated the things I am not involved in.

(But I have got a long way to go, because I still get lonely in a crowd.)