Whatever.

I will die alone. That is all. I actually had written something, but I can't find what I wanted to say.

Sigh.

There's just no way. NO way. And honestly, ask anyone, I'm not crazy-stalker-lady. And, if indeed I was, why would you only answer when I call from a phone that shows my caller id info?

Whatever. The sooner we all get used to being alone, the better.

I will say, however, that I do miss ******* on a ***** that belongs to a warm and caring ***.

Whatever.

What I wear to bed -

Wowza. Honestly. Wowza.http://www.armorofgodpjs.com/

Fearless leader -

"The cat's bloody choked on lupins!!!"

Why does no one get this Monty Pyton reference? I don't know...

I'm so tired, TIRED of being misunderstood. And no, dug, if you are reading this, not you. Just people in general. My friends love me dearly and fiercly, but apparently I can be very off-putting...

And, FYI, I am the queen of the "...",,,

Sigh, Why would a man do what he did, in response to my doing what I did, and then do what he did again, and leave me a what he said he'd never do in my bathroom...

Purple monkey dishwasher.

I had acupunture tonight. With Dr. Fantasmo. She said when she put a needle between my eyes, my "face completely relaxed, turned alomst angelic." It was weird, because she's never put a needle there (and believe me, there were more needles elsewhere) - but, nevermind. I don't know how to explain it. If anyone wants me to then comment, but I'm 31 now, and am trying to distance myself from making an ass of myself publically if I can help it.

Oh, nameless person who will remain nameless and is working on something that is also nameless... Is it me? Am I really that off-putting? Whatever. Whatever's clever. But I think you're great, yet nameless and I understand whatever and whatever and whatever...

Regardless, I love my Seebo tag. LOVE it. If I never talk to nameless again, I am going to frame it. And maybe it was nameless's ghost, cause I didn't see it untul yesterday...

Oh nameless, people do pine over you. Not fer nuthin'

Pending review...

The Smiley Face for [pilbox] is back on.

In a tentative sort of way. Investigation pending.

Stay tuned for our next episode entitled:

A Way with Words, or The Way We Were...

(Is not moose, is flying squirrel!!)

Bring it Noodles, if you dare...

Man, this is not the revolution. Where's the theater, where's the humor...

I was getting sucked in to the "defend your friends" mode - and that's not it man. Not at all. Some people can't be saved - and you know who I'm talking about. No - yeah - yeah you! We're never gonna "find" Jesus... And we know, we know we've already found him, yadda yadda yadda...

I can't do this right now. How bout a list?

1) The god[s] I believe in are more dynamic than this earth's parameters allow fer...

2) What happened to the beauty I had inside of me

3) You can't change the world, so don't alienate them... Pick ONE thing [maybe the One.org campaign?] and just lay off...

4) Time won't leave us as we are...

I had so much more to say. But I'm so done posting on others blogs just to point-counter-point... Does it matter? j c gave me a GREAT link, and you can't convert those who don't want to hear. Including us...

Says the drunken Seebo-san. If you want to know, I'm truly a conservative - like Stew - in a libertarian sense. That doesn't hold water anymore, so I call myself a Socialist, and if you really piss me off - then, yah, sure - you betcha - I'm a Communist.

I had so much more to say, and more eloquently - but I have to get up early - new shipment of lions coming in...

Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit
As it was in the beginning
Is now
And ever shall be
World without end, Amen...

I love my birthday

It was great. Nuff said. I'm going to go have another piece of cake...

And what did I learn from the evil age of 30?

Fuck artists, and "nice" people, they are only passive agressive monsters who will make you cry in the end.

That, and I'm really not a bad person. The people that love me seem to really love me, so whatever.

Off to my piece of cake I go - love everyone who sent well wishes, that was huge.

S

YAY for Seebo!!!! Happy Birthday to Me!!!!!!!!

I thank you all, for your kind wishes... [kiss kiss, wave, wave]...

Please let the boy I like understand, so I have someone to canoodle with; please let my horse-babies (and one in particular) continue to be my angels.

What are the chances that someone like me, would meet an ARCHangel...

Gabe... I haven't got words enough for how good and cool and great you are. And you deserve it, accept it - for crazy Seebo's b-day present.

That is all. I'm 31. And that's aiight.

Pilbox, that is all, just Pilbox... (smiley face for you!!!)

Oh, oh yeah… HAPPY BIRTHDAY SEEBO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

There is this one man. This one man with whom I didn’t make the best of first impressions… But he’s still nice enough to talk to me, and nothing happens ‘by accident’

[As you breathe, as you breathe - into life - you believe…}
[I will believe… cause you are here today, and gone forever… troubled on the way we came together… as you believe into live, as you stray far from home I will believe –

Because your were here today…]

Please let the man I direct that to get it. I’ll make it really fun… I promise

And he is the choirs of angels we both never knew we always wanted… And I make good hors de ovres…

Mr. Anon – it’s my birthday – you cannot hate a girl on her birthday, I read that somewhere… And you did hold my hand, not for nothing, KBO [and just this once, will I allude or define the’KBO’ – Roosevelt and Churchill’s end of transmission – meaning “keep buggering on” –

It’s my birthday. Yay!!!!!!!

Sometimes I really am a bit of alright

So that went well. Really well. I had them laughing and several of them told me (several, because it was a 6 person panel – little stressful) when I was leaving that I came across really well and it was a great interview. Hooray for Seebo! See, Seebo, you are capable of making a good impression. Even at 9 AM.

And then, AND THEN… Wait for it…

I met Al Franken. I was getting into an elevator and I saw someone coming, and being the ever-most gracious person I held the door. In walks Al Franken. He is short(er than me) and has a big head. He shook my hand, and I said “Have a good one” – there’s my brush with greatness for the day.

KBO -
S

Friday - waa-zoo!

I have an interview in 30 minutes. I am not in the mood for this.

That is all.
S

GET OFF THAT DAMN SHED!!!

I’m – you know what, I’m not even going to finish that sentence…

I had a revelation tonight, watching the TV, seeing someone’s dad saying how happy they were to welcome their daughter to the fam when she was born… And it hit me. Not that a lot of things haven’t “hit me” since entering into Jungian psychoanalysis… But my dad (ergo = men, or even more so, ergo = my self worth) completely abandoned my mom and me. We joined him in Dublin, and he was still a wank (and, by the way, still is).

My whole life I’ve rebelled against the trite psychology that is “because your dad left, you feel responsible.” Oh god, the shift is so SO subtle, can I even explain it?

Seeing this dad talk about the gift his daughter was to his family, I realized: it’s not so literal “I did something wrong” so much as it is that “there is something inherently wrong with me that makes me less than desirable…”

Put that in your pipe and smoke it.

Doesn’t matter is Seebo is there or not, no big deal. Emotions are just a show or weakness, right? Ironic, in the saddest sense, in that I am the most sentimental (not in a cheesy way – don’t get me wrong) and sensitive of anyone of all time ever. Getting Hong Fu’ed – took me the better part of the morning not to question myself. And in that, accepting myself in some sort of way – its all humor. And – gasp – I just might be a cool and interesting person.

Regardless, in summation:

 I think of myself as a not-worthy commodity (wrongly, I recognize that, not looking for compliments, but it was a realization. Perhaps it’s my dad [sperm donor] that’s the wank, and not me after all…)
 Think I’m too talk-y, and might have lost a friend last night
 Need to dye my hair. Its been a minute, and its not red (that’s fer sure) but it’s not blonde again
 Stew Magoo might possibly be the hardest working man in show-business

S

I’m so GrrrrAaaagh!!! I could explode…

I hate everything and everyone. No one cares, no one is really your friend. Whatever. Get over it.

My birthday is next Sunday. And I’m going to be 31. And I “should just get over” the whole birthday thing. But there are some people, like me, who really care about our birthdays. They are ours. I’ve never had that great birthday – surprise – or not – with all those ones you love and whom love you celebrating you. Granted, it’s just a great party, and everyone is reveling in the greatness of the party, and not really you at all – Regardless, that’s what I’ve always wanted. And this year, not even getting wrapped presents at some obligatory dinner by my parents.

And I’m not ungrateful. Not at all. The only thing I’m missing are friends. Friends who would decorate. Friends who would fill up a room.

Whatever. 31 – You’re supposed to not care anymore, right? Whatever.

Here are some things you may not know about me:

•I’m an Irish citizen. My dad is an Irish surrealist painter of great acclaim
•I dropped out of college to pursue horse training
•I went to an all girls Catholic prep school
•My grandfather, a Colonel (because he denied an appointment to general) was the only dad I knew for the first years of my life
•I went from my ex to his friend, whom I thought was my friend, but now I guess I’m worth nothing more than what one would ascribe a warm hole
•“Where you live should not decide whether you live or whether you die”
•I have dined with rock stars and prime ministers, and a fat lot of good that did me
•I’m lonely, and that sucks.

Thank god for email notification

Okay, so this probably [self depreciation - YAY!] wasn't so great a post, but losing it trying to provide the reader with a picture? Sucks. And, by the way, the picture was only of stoopid Mickey and Mallory Knox... How lame am I.

Regardless - said missing post. Back to the martini I go:

So what do I want for my birthday? A horse. I won't get one, and more pointedly my mother proposed this: a year long membership at a gym (cause, I suppose I do have access to horses and lessons...) or mani's and pedi's... I told her I wanted krav maga lessons from this place on Lyndale. Drove by there, and they no longer have krav maga listed as one of thier specialities. I want to be able to punch boys! I love movies and such where the woman has the power. Blame that on my wank of a surrealist Irish dad, I do, but I want to know how to defend myself. Lion taming has taught me a lot - don't get me wrong - but my ex-ghetto-trash-junkie boyfriend taught me how to throw a punch. So that I'd know, but not know how to punch him.

Hard to believe I'm a pacifist, huh?

But I am. I'm just about being empowered. And no one - ever - is going to take that away from me.


Thank you, Saint Augustine, and your confessions. Good read.

S

Damn it all to hell

Lost a good post, going to have another cocktail.

Clearly, god hates me. Something about my birthday and krav maga and mani's and pedi's and ghosts...

GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

Post Scriptum -

I still want a man partner, one who can handle me, and whom I can handle... That does not transfer power in any way. shape or form... Unless that power is to me.

Then its all good.

Thousands wouldn't...

http://i46.photobucket.com/albums/f102/suziecidal/th_839a478a.jpg

Okay, so yeah, depression

Yay! Tomorrow is Friday! Wah-hoo...

I realize you have to be "in it to win it" - and I never buy any kind of lotto tix - no scratch off's, no powerballs, no nuthin' - cause that's one third of a pack of smokes baby, and I like my money - [and smoking, clearly]

I'm so bleeding heart liberal that I don't even think I can bleed anymore. Everyone wants my sympathy - and I just can't cater to everyone now can I? Israel, Lebanon, fuckstick arab no. #1...

I have a scanner, I just haven't hooked it up. That does matter. And Sister Machinegun matters, and Ride matters, and Jono matters, and S. Magoo matters, and pilbox - PILBOX matters - and no one but the friends of the seebo will understand... But at least I could post my visual interpretations for everyone to tear down...

FYI - don't drink and blog, and if you haven't already, call your mom...

In our next episode - Seebo tries to branch out from lion taming into everything gross and mean taming... Stay tuned...

I WILL LIGHT YOU ON FIRE

"Like that monk in Viet Nam - NOW GET OFF THE SHED"

As bad as things get, Will Ferrell ranks right up there with Graham Chapman, John Cleese and Sacha Cohen...

And, just in defense of myself, my spelling lacks a certain... correctness.

Okay, point well taken. I am more blog-worthy then just how horribly I feel about myself.

All things in perspective [Ann is the devil]. I'm done with this world. Not in a crazy vampire depressed way, more so in a prison way. In a Kafka way - in a Thoreau way... I love my house, and my cats, and my dog (who, lovey though he may be, will eat your dog) and my rat babies. I love The Daily Show, I love Monty Python, I love people who are into just about anything as long as they're into something.

This is NOT turning out to be the great post I thought it was going to be... But I can't help but thinking about the bath I'm about to run, complete with grapefruit salts (ironically for their "awakening" properties...) and The Confessions of Saint Augustine...

"We gladly take a little longer in bed..."

[That's what she said]

What good is being loved if you aren’t loved?

I’m so tired (see also: Seebo in general) of people saying that I’m smart and great and funny and wonderful. Sounds like I’m boasting? Well, honestly, I’m not. Because I just don’t see it. I don’t see it at all. And my current diversion at work? Sanatoriums and psychiatry… I’ve diagnosed myself plenty of times. Read a news article today about Special K (the only drug I haven’t done, aside from PCP) curing depression, People allowed in the study had to score at least 18 on the DHDS… I win. I got a 40.

And then one of my great dear dear friends tried to give me a pep talk, bless her. The diatribe about meds and analysis will hold for another time…

I hate my life. Everyone else seems to think I’m so great – the fact that I don’t – self diagnoses and not denied by my [great] analyst – delusions. Oh, but that’s not all – not just “delusions” – they’re “psychotic delusions”. No, I don’t hear voices, it’s a mood disorder, but I have this overwhelming, constant sense of guilt and worthlessness that is not based in actual reality. Actual reality being people responding to me in a positive way. Note to humanity: Google-ing medical problems = not a good idea.

Oh yeah, and I’m drunk, Wishing I had dope, not even dope. Heroin or oxys – so I could [throw up repeatedly] just enjoy smoking and having my eyelids at half mast.

And therefore, there but for the grace of god go I.

Et in arcadia ego.

Sigh

I don't know if my head hurts or just my eyes... Stupid analysis and even more stupid painful moments of realization.

To anyone out there - if you're in the market for an Irish artist's surrealist paintings, I can recommend someone NOT to throw your money at.

Too tired for this. Just way too tired.

Ah yes, my usual depressed self, now that's more like it.

S

Its a record - three posts in one night!

Ka-loo-kah-lay!

Ahem,

I am, I am Superman, and I know what's happening
I am - I am Superman, and I can do anything - [REM]

You don't really love that guy you make it with now do you?
I know you don't love that guy cause I can see right through you...


Okay, then, smart guy - where are you? And what are you doing? And are you really going to be worth it, or am I just wasting my time? Goddamn me and my stoopid chicken sandwich. Fuck fuck FUCK everything...

I'm destined to be the crazy lady on the block with a thousand cats...

But I know what's happening...

S.

Post Scriptum to the pics of horses

Gypsy Hollow or Vintage Vanners - they're not my horses, I'm just luck enough to work with them.

And so she goes on...

And on. And on.

Phones suck. Or, rather, lack of service sucks. Regardless...

My birthday is coming up. I'm going to be, sigh, 31. My mom offeredm e a year long membership to a gym, or mani's and pedi's... I opted - initially - for the gym, but tonight I told her that I wanted lessons.

Lessons, for those who don't know me, which is just about everyone, are hunt seat equitation or dressage lessons. It's been about five years since I had a formal trainer, and that is what I want. Yes, I still work with horses, and have since forever (which is no small feat for a city girl) - but since my accident I've somewhat relegated myself to ground work (and grooming, and lovins and scritches). I tried to post a picture of Petal, but it didn't come out..............................

Who cares. This is life. As a grown up. The party is over, and believe me I've partied hard. I actually got took for $30 this weekend, hittin' the street for dope. I'm an idiot. And now I'm going to go youtube some Will Ferrell, because he makes me laugh.

Hopefully this picture of my baby doll (not including my cats, or rats, or dog - but she is just my big baby doll) Triana will work.

Whatever.

10 things I did today (and 5 things I didn't)

1) Not only had clean underpants to wear, but actually wore them

2) Woke up screaming to some scary nightmare that I don't quite recall - but it was one of those screams where you don't make a sound - just the expulsion of air. And for a minute I couldn't see the light I left on in the hall - for a second I though someone had flipped a switch and turned a light on, then I figured it was just my eyes un-paralysing themselves from the dream...

3) Ran into my ex-boyfriend's mom at the Federal Courthouse getting lunch from their awesome deli (note to self: not so awesome a deli if you run into exes parents)

4) Ran into someone I used to, ahem, "see" I guess is the political way to put it - pulling into the alley spot to the rental duplex across (DIRECTLY across, and I cannot stress that enough) the alley from my house as I was pulling in with cat and dog food

5) Reconsidered posting #1, because I'm not a nasty internet person, does that make me sound shady? Or midly intriguing? = Basically, lets just call number 5 "Questioned myself" - that should cover it

6) Posted on my bloggy-blog, versus drawing or making lists that probably won't come to fruition - not in a dspressing way - just in a different sort of thing I did today sort of way

7) Played with the dog, the cats, and the rat babies

8) called my mom

9) Smoked cigarettes like they were going out of style

10) Well, I'm not sure what "10" is, but I'll bet its gonna be good, or not. Whatever's clever...

And the five things I didn't do

1) Finish the world's most compelling piece of literary greatness of all time, ever

2) Send Comrade Fidel that get well soon card

3) Have breakfast: not only the most important meal of the day, but my personal favorite (see also: egg-y goodness, cheese and potato-y wonderment)

4) Wash the bathroom floor

5) Cease being neurotic


And that is all. For now. Maybe more later, but....

I'M GOING TO PUNCH YOU IN THE FACE, NOW GET OFF THAT SHED


- just a little something for those people out there who will know what I'm talkin'

S

Post scriptum:
To hell with spell check (that was for my benefit, so that when I read this later I'm not all, god - how'd I misspell that...)

All I have to say is: More Cowbell!