silly timing

shaken and always stirred.

the timing of my major life decisions continue to blow me away.

i’m in the middle of road-tripping with my family with no booze and smokes… which means world: expect angry and cracked out posts from me. soonish.

xoxo

/Just Like The News/

/Every day you get pressed/ - great song. Name the artist!

so i started drinking yesterday at about 5… yes, i know that is how many of these little stories start, but hey thats the GodHonestTruth. i was hungry at one point so i went to the store and got some chips and salsa stuff and of course burnt myself trying to cook. it was really delicious AND nutritious but Gdamnit i need to stop using hot things when i’m drunk.

at around 8:30, my downstairs neighbor asked if i could give him a ride somewhere. I didn’t want to because

a. i had a good buzz going

b. American Idol was on and they were about to announce who was getting kicked off

c. dude.

but at the same time, i try and give back to society by doing random acts of good deeds.. paying it forward and all that bs. so i said yeah sure.

We start driving, well, I start driving and i ask him where i’m taking him. He said to a bar. I told him that was kinda shady and he told me i could hang out if i wanted. I told him naww cos i was going to a party later too. He has me taking all kinds of crazy turns on one-way streets here and there and i started to get a little worried about getting home - remember i’m drunkish. We end up in a run down neighborhood, and he has me stop at someone’s house. He gets out for about 10 minutes and comes back talking about his friend giving him some “mind razors” and they’re pretty fucking great. (I googled that and i still have no idea what that means. Damn me and my lack of drug knowledge). So yada yada more turns here and there and we get to the bar. I ask him how to get home, he says just turn right there and go back on that street and it will take you all the way home. Cool.

I called my bff for company and she was lecturing me about my stupid actions until i realized that i was in bfn and had no clue how to get someplace that i recognized. She started looking for directions, but again i didn’t know where i was. I drove and drove and drove and turned around and drove and drove and drove and passed a bar that i recognized from the drive out there in the first place. Which means that i was on the right road but somehow got fucking lost. The trip out there took about 15 minutes, and yet when i drove 20 on that road, i was nowhere. My girl was staying calm, trying to help and i was freaking out and starting to sober up and yet craving another drink.

I stopped and asked for directions at a small bar with about 6 people in it. The whole joint went quiet when i walked in, and stayed that way til i left. Turns out all I had to do was take a right, and follow it til I got to the freeway and then i was only an exit away from home.

I’m still blown away about how i got that lost. Squiddy asked me what lesson i learned from the experience and i said, ‘don’t drive drunk.’ she said NO that’s not what the lesson was, that it was actually Dont Give Rides to Strangers When You Don’t Know How to Get Home. I told her that i thought her priorities were a little mixed up but okay and thanks for the help. All in all i was only gone for about an hour and a half or so but it was nerve wracking.

At home I had a few more beers than went over to Nick’s. His little brother is in a semi famous band and was in town tonight so we were having a merry shindig. I drank and drank and drank. Lovelady kept telling me to having a man drink aka bourbon and coke or rum and coke or vodka and coke, while holding a Mike’s Hard Lemonade. right. I countered that instead i would chug the remaining half of my bottle of delicious wine. He said he would chug his remaining inch of man drink. I ended up yakking up my frothy wine and probably some chips, maybe a little salsa, all the good stuff. poor Matt went in after me and puked too cos it reeked haha.

A chick showed up who i’ve been hearing about for awhile and have never met showed up. The guy i dumped a sexy boyfriend for had a thing for her for a really long time, which made me antsy. I got quiet, and started drinking faster. Matt cornered me, and made me talk to him about what was going on.

Well first off, the current chick/dick situation. Sexually frustrated. Moving. Seeing my family in a few weeks with no booze and definitely no smokes. Oh and a friend of mine got blown up while on convoy duty and i found out last Friday because i read it in the newspaper. That really sums it all up…

Matt told me to basically stop being emo about the man thing. I’m leaving in about 3 weeks and won’t ever be back and i knew he was a free spirit when i made the plunge. It could have gone well, for the little bit of time that i was here. It is what it is. Plus, if he wants to get cozy with a chick then it’s actually okay, considering they both live here, and i almost don’t.
Matt told me some war horrors of his own, and that drinking was not the way to get away from them.

There was some drunk wrestling at some point in the night, and i smashed my knee on the counter so hard that it went numb and i almost fell over.

We went over to my place cos he wanted to see my dogs and we walked Charlie around the neighborhood at like 0530. He was freaking out cos that schedule was all off the norm. I’m sorry little buddy! He ended up crashing on my couch and i think i fell asleep around 0630 or 7 or so.

Woke up at 1030 because of the chorus of dogs, and went back over to get my phone from Nick’s. Matt and i walked in and everybody was like oooooooooohhhhhh… We all went to breakfast, and then Nick realized that he locked his keys in his car. with the engine running. haha.

he had to hire a locksmith, and went to go get cash. Lovelady and i were hanging out by the car and he leans in to me and asks me wtf is on my neck. He thinks it looks like a bite mark, and i think it looks like a thumb print. I don’t remember being bitten, but i did spend some time in a headlock.. i’m just hoping it doesn’t turn purple and is obvious at work. For some reason any explanation with the words, “well i was drunk and i…” don’t get accepted happily. They should just understand that i drink constantly and do many, many things in that state, and get used to it.

so here i am, it’s about 4:30ish, and i’m not sure if i’m hungover or still drunk. I was drinking fairly steadily for about 11 hours, and even if they weren’t so-called mandrinks, thats a decent amount of alcohol for a biddy my size. oh, and i’m supposed to go out tonight. 50 cent drafts at a little pub. i think i’m going to DD. i don’t know if i can drink anymore.

xoxo

** i was just reading through the other things that i’ve written lately. On the 29th I talked about a dream i’d had the night before of a friend of mine getting blown up. My friend that died was blown up on the 29th, and because of time differences, that would make it the 28th here. Fuck. **

Infuckingdeed

i’m a little sick and tired of myself.

People see an overachiever who works relatively hard and is good at many things.

I see an insecure alcoholic who is struggling to get by. I’m reading “A Million Little Pieces” by James Frey and it’s terrible and wonderful and i hope for his sake that it isn’t all true. he describes things about his life that built up to his problems and i’m seeing things that i do too.

You, if you actually know me will probably say that i’m not an alcoholic. I hardly drink in your presence, right? I just have a few beers, hang out, nothing serious, right? What i’m concerned about is my drinking by myself. I don’t like the fact that i thinking about having a drink during lunch, or that i can’t wait to go home and drink.

Yeah, yeah, yeah I know it’s because I’m stressed out. That’s why my face looks like hamburger me. Thats why no one calls me.

No. I drink because it gives me the balls to behave like the loud fun person that i want to be. If i’m honest with myself, i admit that i’m shy. I’m worried about the same things that everyone else worries about and i hate that. Fuck going along with everyone else. (Fuck the dumb dogs that are running circles around the chair.) I’m extremely insecure. I just figured out a long time ago that if I pretend then it will be.

Fuck myself for feeling like cutting. I’ve never cut myself - in the past I just got another piercing. The pain, especially the kind that comes with doing it myself is soothing. I hurt me, and get distracted from the dumb things going on in my head. Last night… i decided to go and get food instead of cutting myself. I’m fucking pissed at myself about it too. I was drunk enough to be starving and chose to drive instead of cut. I had it all planned out too - i wear too many tanktops to cut my arms so i should just go for the legs instead, because then it wouldn’t should.

Dumbdumbdumbdumb.

Me, Myself, and Moi

today right, I woke up late-ish after not being able to sleep because i was being concerned about life. scrambled around, made coffee, walked Charlie and Boozer and yelled at Nonna to stop crying because it wouldn’t get her any extra attention.

Lugged all my stuff into my car, spilled coffee on my shoes, dropped my lighter.

Got cut off in traffic. Mislabeled a check and had to rip the envelope open and re-write it all.

I was thinking, as I do quite often, and wondering if life would have been any different if i wasn’t in the military. When I was first thinking of joining I was terrified that I was selling my creativity and uniqueness and trading it for three hots and a cot. I’ve been wondering that ever since.. am I less of a person? Would I have written my master piece by now if I wasn’t stuck in a monotonous 0730-1630 job every day?

I was terrified to tell a professor of mine that I was joining because I didn’t want him to think that I was giving up LIFE in order to be able to afford it.

That’s pretty much what I wonder about, every time I feel particularly useless or lonely. Or right now, when half my class from hs is graduating college this year and the other half is getting married. I can’t even stay in the same place longer than 6 months at a time — how am I supposed to get close enough to maintain anything?

so today i was thinking about all this, like normal, and i was missing ME. then it occurred to me, at what point in life was I more ME than I am right now? How can I say that I was more ME at 12, or 19 or last month? Yeah, I’m changing and experiencing new things but it’s shaping and molding ME. I think the epitome of my life will happen as I lay dying (hopefully on a warm bed in about 60 years).

There is no fair way that I can cry about the person I used to be when it is actually just a shade of who I am now. if you would have asked me 5 years ago whether i’d be drinking smoking and fucking i would have asked if you knew who i was.

i have a life’s new resolution now — i’m going to stop crying about the person i’ve lost, because i don’t know who that could have been. I might have been great, but I (god i wanted to say ‘lost that opportunity’).. I am now on a path.

nah it’s probably not going to work. i’m probably going to mourn the old ME. i’ll just have to also celebrate the current ME and will plan on the future ME.

(oh — i forgot. i took the final to the last class for my associates today - the old man that checked me in said that i looked like Angelina Jolie hehe awesome)

Twas Halloween

And the ghosts were out,
And everywhere they’d go, they’d shout,
And though I covered my eyes I knew,
They’d go away.

~ Norah Jones

I love her. before i massacred my hair people used to sometimes say i looked like her… if i could sound like her it would be alot better.

I’m babysitting one of my coworkers dog, who is a crazy Lhasa Apso/Pomeranian mix. Charlie doesn’t like him very much. Boozer (awesome name) is going to be with us til the end of the month, so either they are going to make up or its going to be a loooong month.

I’m moving to Texas next month. I have so much shit to take care of before I leave and I’m getting a little stressed out about it all. I need my commander to sign a piece of paperwork thats been on her desk since April 18th, because that is the last thing on my checklist before I can get my orders issued. Without my orders I can’t set up the movers to empty out my apartment, so I can’t move out. I don’t want to get stuck paying June’s rent since I’ll be leaving on the 10th. I have a ten page term paper due in two days, and a final in three. Do I study, or do I write the damn paper?? Put together they are whole 50% of the grade anyways.

I’m watching the 40-Year-Old Virgin on tv, and all the good swearwords are bleeped out. They are ruining a good movie out of fear of offending someone’s morals. It’s past nine on a Friday, and I’m pretty sure that all small children should be asleep. One of the dudes just said, “it’s bullshiiiiiii.” the only part missing was the ‘t’ - thank God because I was really confused about the meaning of that word. What is bullshiiii anyways?

Bullshiiiiii is my supervisors behavior lately.

Bullshiiiii is pretty persecuting each other because of different beliefs

Bullshiiiii is being out of freakin groceries again

“I prefer vaginal intercourse” - some kid on that movie awesome.

cowok

soalanya gw baru baru ngambilin pacar baru. dia kerja malam, gw kerja hari. most of the time it’s not a problem buttt hari ini gw lagi kesal. tadi malam se minum terlalu banyak dan hari ini kerja sucked pretty bad. udah jam delapan dan mobilnya masih didepan rumahnya (i’m not a stalker, cuma qta tetangga) berarti dia ga kerja malam ini.

tadi malam gw tanya, dia bilang hari rabu ga kerja. tadi pagi temannya kirim pesan kalo gw liatin dia hari yada yada yada. gw bilang dia kerja malam ini and they were like…. are you sure??? cos he said… so qta baru “bersama” like dua minggu, dan gw yakin ini masih terlalu cepat untuk mulai bohong.

kalo dia ga mau my company bilang. gw lebih kesal kalo di ignore dari pada cowok  omong jujur bilang bukan malam ini, honey.

huuu…. ayi cowok emang goblok.

I think

That i should probably never be allowed to cook while i’m drunk.

i’ve been drinking since i got home from work, all by myself since i’m kind of an alcoholic. at about 7 i decided that i didn’t reallyreallyreally want to quit smoking, so i threw poor Charlie in the car and drove us to the gas station for smokes.

at 8 i decided i desperately wanted ramen. with vinegar. really spicy. mmmmmmmmmmm.

oh last night i dreamed that a friend of mine got blown up by mortars in Iraq. is that bad? it’s better than the last one — a child (actually not just a child, a baby in swaddling cloth) fell into a lake and i couldn’t save her because every time i went up for air the sky was exploding. so we both drowned in murky yellowgreen water while choking on seaweed. I think I got drunk that night too. I think it’s a fairly good response, personally.

i hate fucking dreaming about babies dying. last year my worst dream was being on patrol somewhere and my whole back up was a bunch of kids, and my precious little sister. a small child, like a six year old was peering our of our bunker and got shot. his brain conveniently exploded all over me. I had to wipe goo off my little sister, then go out and get shot myself. am I fucked up? maybe? maybe not? maybe i drink too much? maybe? maybe not?

xoxo!

Spicy

my sugar punkin Nick is trying to get onto some mtv show. I think (thinkthinkthinkthink) that he’s joking but to show my support and love I had to make one too… haha

if you found my blog from that site, hola. nice to meet you etc etc

me: http://www.nextornot.com/anakmanja

Nick: www.nextornot.com/manimal

Our Collective Genius

**transcribed from my paper travel journal**

Every day when I get home I run my dog through a series of questions. I tell him that she shouldn’t have wasted another day of sweet, sweet life. I ask if he’s solved the Israeli conflict, or famine or found the answer to world peace.

He wags his tail, licks my legs, yanks of my bootstraps and jumps around til I let him out to pee. Right now he’s sprawled on my lap with his paws all over this paper. Whenever I mis-spell something he chews on the paper, just to put me in my place. He also keeps licking my hand to direct the pen so that I add some of his thoughts. He’s not making sense right now (too much crack) so I’m delicately trying to turn him down.

He’s a big fan of tampon commercials, my lotioned legs and cigarette butts.

I like toffee, dumb internet games and smoking the cigarettes for my dog’s addiction.

We make a pretty good couple I think.

Neither of us, however, know a whole lot of world peace. We jointly decided that the only real way to solve it would be to join a commune. Or a cult. Whichever one isn’t greedy and hungry for things that aren’t theirs. Self-supported type of thing. I can’t see a way around some person in power wanting something that someone else has and mustering an army to fight over it. He pointed out that people are greedy and perhaps we should just lick each other’s balls and forget about all our worries. (I told you he was doing too much crack.)

Thats what we think, Charlie and I. That’s what we think.

I Heart Bandwagons

I’ve always loved the concept of complete strangers judging me based solely on the foul thoughts that come out of my mind.. I’m kind of a pervert. Most of my friends could tell you that but I doubt they actually know how deep it runs..

I was in Vegas last week, and I was jotting on the flight over:

There is a Hassidic Jewish couple on their cute daughter on the plane behind me. They walked up earlier, prim and proper. Made me wonder what they’re like naked. Does he go down on her? Does she pull on his coarse curly sideburns while she’s squirming and trembling? (I just noticed he’s taken off his skullcap, is that even legal?) Should I offer to watch their kid so they can join the mile high club? I fully support corrupting all innocent types - it seems like a good idea…

My lovely seatmates are having a charming convo about the evils of large laptops used for gaming. Old Lady (OL) thinks they shouldn’t be traveled with. She appears to feel very superior because HER laptop is small and lightweight. Young Lady (YL) is frumpy and appears ecstatic about having someone to talk to. YL uses over 7000 text messages a month, and OL says it’s okay because that means that she is keeping up with family. Isn’t she just a precious little thing??

They just moved on to curly hair being better than straight hair. Guess who got a foot of curls chopped off a week ago? This kid, that’s who!

(Someone just fucking shoot them. I mean it.)

Dear god, now they are onto how precious YL is for having a list of places to visit in the world. I’m suddenly struck by the worry that I’m feeling left out and bitterly superior because I’ve personally been to about 15 countries. I tried to convince myself that I’m better than them and don’t actually need to be included. Can it be true? Is that why I’m being judgmental and hateful?