Platitude Paradise

People say that, but I mostly disagree... if it's a good match, at least. In fact, my husband says that it may not be healthy that we don't fight. I think love is all we really have in this life that's worth anything.  I believe love should be patient and kind.  Comfortable, forgiving and unconditional... Also passionate and all that good stuff, too... but not where it comes to disagreement. I do not like to fight. Ever. It's the reason my kids are spoiled.  I'd rather just do whatever needs doing, than waste my breath fighting about it. True story. Not sure if that helps my marriage in all cases. See, this past weekend, I went into my Friday night with latent anger curling up my spine.  Not to delve into details, but my spouse and I were not in a very good place... admittedly, he was unaware of that, until well into the evening. There was a bit of a thing last week.  A thing that ultimately made me wi

chat·tel ˈCHadl/ noun (in general use) a personal possession. LAW an item of property other than real estate. I do not even know where to start, I am so fucking violently angry right now! I could chew nails. I am not chattel. Hear me, universe? NOT CHATTEL! Not even certain why I am attempting to write anything.  I can scarcely breathe, I am choking on so many words... and expletives... and rage. I can't stand someone trying to exert control over me - especially when it muddies the water around their sensibility.  People, I'm here to tell you that anyone who forgets that EVERYBODY has a tipping point where they begin to devolve... (you know the point I mean - where everybody becomes their own brand of cunt)... it is unwise to forget that even moderately sweet, dumb, doe-eyed Dani has such a point. I truly do believe that those closest to me are of the belief they are so damned much smarter than me, they

Yep! You read that right. I'm desperate. I need an epic play list. I need this play list to be beyond epic. I need it to be the "Phoenix".  For anyone that may or may not read my blog anymore, who do not follow me on Facebook, I got a Phoenix tattooed on the soft inside skin of my forearm. I thought it was fitting. Perhaps there are people who may not agree that my journey has been phoenix-worthy, but I do... and I really don't need to give a fuck about anybody else.  Anyway, here's my night...  I stopped at the NSLC on my way home.  Yep... bought myself an $11.00 bottle of wine... I'm classy, like. I have a small play list made already. It is in its infancy and I need some help - seriously... I want this list to be envied by all the people.  Here it is so far: (I guess in the event I ever wonder what I was listening to at this juncture) Havana - Camila Cabello Heartless - Kanye West Blame it - Jamie Foxx

I might be happy... You have to promise not to tell anyone. It has been my observation in the past, that bragging about one's own happiness is a sure fire way to invite a karmic smack-down. I can not emphasize this enough, people... I'm good with smack-downs for a bit. MKay? It is rather amusing to me that I admit this grudgingly, but the recent tweak to my medication has worked wonders. I'm full on manic, but it is controlled... and manic, under control is like its own drug all together. How many years has it been since I had control? Four or five... how long has it been, really? It's easy to confuse blame, but the truth is, I have not been functioning like my true self in the better part of a decade... or maybe even longer. I thought it might be age.  Disappointment.  Regret.  Exhaustion. Boredom. Each of which comes with its very own set of concerns, as to how to move forward in a productive way. Each of which could have been attributed t

This is what I envision for a cabin. I sketched it out on a note pad. It is remarkably similar to a camp I have loved before... why mess with perfection?  I want this so bad it makes my teeth hurt. I think about this when I am going to sleep at night, when I drive, when I am in the shower... I guess it is a better obsession than some. We have been looking for a piece of land on a body of fresh, swim-able water. We would look up to $15K. We already have a wood stove and may well have the fireplace shortly. The furniture would be second hand. The cabin would be built by us. The wood cook stove, we could get for around $150. Chimney would be under a grand for both. I think we would do particle board walls with the skins off logs attached to the outside. It would look like logs that way and they are fairly cheap. I think I would want to do interior walls - so I could lay insulation in between, but we'd just do tongue & groove pine on the inside. I'd likely pickl

Man am I tired. I spent the entire day yesterday thinking I may be having a heart attack. Dude, I'm starting to sound like Fred Fox.  (...by the way, if you don't get that reference, you likely shouldn't be reading my crap.) Seriously, though... I was concerned enough about whether or not I'd wake up again, I wrote a letter last night before I went to bed - just in case. I ripped it up this morning and took it to work with me... where I then put it through the shredder.  ...you know, I killed my death bed letter.  I am so weird. During my trip down hypochondria lane, I decided I would exploit an old relationship and ask for free medical advice. He is in emergency medicine.  My text was ignored. I assumed it was because he is still thinking I was being a hose bag about his recent separation.  Not that it is a shock, but I was wrong. He called me today. We chatted for quite a long time. He told me about his kids and their different pe

This is ed-zachary how I feel right now. LAWD! It is HAWT! I'm not complaining , per se... merely making an observation... of my skin bubbling off my bones. The A/C at work has been operating on the stingy side this week. Normally, I'm thrilled to get into my steam box of a vehicle after working in the freezer all day, but today is not one of those days. I have been alone in the office this week due to my boss being on vacation. I remember when I used to count the minutes until my bosses left for vacation. I'm thrilled to report, I am missing my current one. This morning, in anticipation of the mega heat (over 40 degrees Celsius in the Humidex), I wore a strapless sun dress.  Now, I came into work with foundation garments on. For those of you who are unfamiliar with such a thing, they push up stuff that sags, suck in stuff that pops out, and smooth overly bumpy areas. Sadly, I have a number of each. Add the afternoon heat of

I could keep going for days, but I should really go back to work. My mind is so fertile...

***edited to state this was originally written mid-June I had to appeal to the Gate Keeper at my doctor's office today. Don't get me wrong, she is a lovely woman, but she has a job to do, and that is to keep the doc as close to her schedule as possible. She can't buy into every sob story, or nobody would ever get an appointment.  I get it.  I have been the Gate Keeper.  Really, my entire function in life IS Gate Keeper.  I needed to get relief from the festering cesspool of latent anger surging to the surface of my skin every time I was provoked in the slightest. Thank Godtopus there isn't anything about my work environment that provokes me!  Mind you, I have incredibly high tolerance for a work place.  Seriously, though - the few irritations associated with this job are absolutely nothing. I couldn't have created my own position and had it better suited to me. Right down to the fact that I have very little direction. As frustrating as tha

I've decided that I need an attitude adjustment where dust bunnies are concerned. I mean, they're kinda cute... I guess. If you omit the part where they're a mixture of the combined DNA of the household - inclusive of pets - and random dust bits, dirt and food. They don't require actual feeding - yet somehow, they grow. They don't poop, have no vet bills. Really, as pets go, they're pretty 'low main'. Yes, I accept that premise. I will now consider my fluffy housemates... my pets. My companions.  I've started naming them. I have noted their personalities are tough to discern. At least my fur and fin babies give me something to go on. Not so much with these little guys.  I have to assign colloquial traits based on their location in the house. To give you a ' for instance '... Dust bunnies from the bathroom tend to be a little snobbish. Having prime waterfront, and all. The ones from the hallway te