Workin Moms in Netflix

You guys, hold up.

This is a thing.

Netflix did a show on working moms.

WHAT?!?

Not only that, but they did one on a moms group. Also, Tully came out this year.

Do you know what this means?

This means we are so freaking lucky to live in this current time as moms. We live in a world where people are really starting to get. We are living in a world where people are starting to see that we need to make a change!

That is so freaking exciting for me, I don’t even know how to handle it. It quickens my blood when I see it, my heart literally leaps for joy like a cheesy cartoon ballerina. Because you know what? Pumping milk sucks, but it sucks a lot less when glam-boobs on tv is doing it too. And I hate when my stroller won’t fit in my car, but that girl on Netflix had the same exact problem!

I’ll be the first to admit that I compare myself to other people way too often in a super unhealthy way, but you know what? Either way, if misery loves company, I’m getting happier and happier now!

Lost

I just want to write what I really feel,
Don’t really want to talk tonight.
I just wanted to talk about what’s sneaking
out my windowpanes I can’t express.

I wanted to see your name on the ID again,
I wanted that picture to great my eyes again.
Everytime I see it, I see you and it’s like,
Well it’s like maybe I’m in love again.

But this time I know that the scars are deeper,
I saw in my eyes when you called,
That heart’s still broken from all you said and didn’t do,
From the very first time you fell.

You were the trustworthy one, the only one
I could trust you no matter what, believe in you,
You would always be there, if you said you would,
But then, you weren’t.

It had been so long, I thought you wouldn’t fall
But tonight it seems like you had to,
Like maybe I had you on a pedestal,
But only one that made you a man.

I asked myself then if your old monsters had come back
Was the gatorade bottle to cool the stench
Of nights of vodka, tequila and lime,
And the tired, sick excuse for something worse?

I almost cried out to you, or screamed at you one time,
It was long ago, but it was there.
I thought I had the courage to say something,
But then I realized it was a lie.

I don’t know, but I think I just loved you,
And I was so angry because you didn’t love me too,
And I thought it hurt so bad to be betrayed,
But maybe I asked too much,

Maybe I shouldn’t ask anything of you.
Maybe I should just turn away.
That’s what I told myself that cold December night,
And caved, and let you go.

 

Hangover

I didn’t have alcohol for the hangover today, remember the Cry Fest yesterday? Yeah, that happened. Then I stayed up until three in the morning. Why, exactly? Because I can? And because I felt like it…..because I didn’t want to go to sleep, I wanted the tranquilizer dart we all love most. TV Time. Hooray. Perhaps my depression is coming from that sucky reality of all my favorite shows taking breaks. That SUCKS. Like, seriously dude. 😉

Anyway, then those who substitute for all the friends and places I miss have taken a break and left me. In the cold I might add. Actually physically cold, not just the cliche phrase. Nope, April is COLD here man. So then I end up actually being productive, look through all my old stuff and realize how much I miss being a junior in college.

See that was the perfect point in life. I was surrounded by awesome people, beautiful, smart, interested in the same things as I was. I kid you not we would argue about dead poets for hours after dinner. We would watch golden hour while we ate whatever crappy food the cafeteria cooked, but hey at least we didnt have to cook it. (Although if we did want to cook we could.) Anyway, it was pretty great.

Then, I grew up, and three years past and I STILL miss Junior year. The danger here is that may have been the best year of my life. Here we go now, downhill from here. Super. Twenty miserable years of leading up to being a Junior, one blissful year of loving it, and then fire and flames and I didn’t even get to say goodbye.

This wasn’t supposed to be a mope session. This is just a little bit of a venting session, because those are fun, generally they become funny, and who knows maybe sometimes they even serve to brighten someone’s day. Anyway, who knows.

The artist has a hangover from tears she cried, 
And now here she goes, the mask untied.

The Saddest Thing I’ve Seen

Ok, we take a break from “The Circumstances” story, to talk about the saddest thing I’ve ever seen.

This comes on because this weekend, I met a lovely man, had a couple of great conversations with him. He texted me this morning, and we found out that I am moving to his hometown in 2 weeks(I met him because his show was touring throughout the country but he is going home soon.) 

Anyway, minutes later when he found out that I am going to work at a Church, he froze, asked if I was religious, proceeded to tell me he is not perfect, and the conversation ended there. Now, that’s fine. I am not devastated I barely know him, but it is sad, because I have seen the same thing in so many men. They see something good, and as soon as they start to feel that it is really something good, they back off, or run screaming. Or they look in the face of what they believe is good, and say “I can’t have you, I am not worthy.” But the important thing about “I am not worthy” is missing.

We say every Mass “Lord, I am not worthy,” but we follow it up with “but only say the word and my soul shall be healed.” In other words, Christ in the Eucharist is our HOPE. “Lord, I am not worthy” is despair, without the movement that comes afterwards, the request for help. The request for help has to be genuine, one must be willing to actually move towards better, but the request is the first step.

Now, I don’t mean that these guys should all ask me for help. I’m not the one who can save them, but you can see in a person’s reaction to what they believe is good, what their perception of themselves is in relation to God. 

I think every person has moments that they do this themselves, I know I have done it about my writing, about jobs, mostly my acting, and I am in a long war against myself to allow God to bring me to what is the good in my own life. 

My strongest prayer is that we all see what is good, and that we ask God for it, and believe, not that we are worthy, but that we will receive it anyway. 

And that we all remember that “To see another person is to see the face of God,” and God WANTS us to see Him.

Maybe Not.

Hello there.
Hello.
What are you doing here?
Same thing as you.
What are you looking for?
Same as you.

I don’t believe it.

It’s been a while.
Yes, it has.

Last time I saw, we held a grudge…
Fire and brimstone complete.
Yes. You wrestled me away.
I did, at the time.

And then you come back to me?

What do I do with it?

I have a grudge against you now.
Oh, you do?
You suffocated and squashed me out.
Oh really? So did you.
Don’t mock me. You tried to kill me.
I was hurt.
Don’t even think about it.

It was like the world was ending…
That fateful August day.

As you said two years ago.
What’d I say?
Moses and Roses Supposes,
What of Moses?
I wonder what that means,
So do I.
But I don’t want to ask.

I feel this poems not my own.
So do I.
But will it just go on forever?
I don’t know.
Maybe it’s just time to wonder.
Wonder together?
Maybe not.

To Be Honest

To be honest…
To be honest…
To be…
I don’t want to talk about it.
Not here, not now.
I don’t want to go into it,
Not here, Not when….
No.
You ask me to talk about it,
No,
Not again.
I don’t want to talk about it.
Not ever again.

Funny

How when there is so much to say one cannot,
How when one should write to mourn nothing’s wrong.
How when all is lost, no more is sought,
How when needed most, I quench the song.

How the black abyss looks for my answer,
How I turn from all and say it’s all ok.
How I just cannot say where my hurts were
Because I insist I see only day.

 

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