Oi Oi Oi

This is sort of what my diary looks like (names may be left out to protect the innocent and the stupid). Yes. I keep a diary. There’s enough going on in my head, if I didn’t get some of it out my brain would start leaking out of my ears.

So I’m sitting here BORED TO FRICKEN DEATH. But you know what they say, if you’re bored then you’re boring…

I’ve been “double-clicking my mouse” so much that my wrist hurts and it’s just damn well fruitless at this point. I can’t wait to get back home because there’s someone I’m gonna see who’s gonna ante up and feed the Kitty. & Trust me, Kitty is famished.

Anyway, due to circumstances beyond my tolerance, I had to ditch my number and it’s a relief because now I don’t have to talk to a lot of people. I’ve been looking back on my life and coming forward to realize how useless most people are. I mean, if they don’t serve some kind of purpose, then what the hell do I talk to them for? Now I don’t and I won’t. What a load off.

I’ve had so many false starts, great ideas and unrealized dreams. The amazing thing is I finally caught on to the fact that the only thing stopping me is me (well me and that fuck-up of a president). This year, is my year. I’ve accomplished more since the end of January than I have in years gone by. Made new connections, concocted new plans of attack, been more productive, reliable and happy than I’ve been in a long ass time.

I mean this is the time for realizations. I realized that I really don’t give a flying shit what people say. I realize what I just said is a load of bullshit. I’ve got a few people whose opinions I take to heart, mostly people that have known me since the inception of my unique brand of bullshit. Their opinions matter so much that it can reduce me to tears. Yeah, I sissy out at times but only for a select few. Everyone else is welcome to kiss my ass. Therefore, I’ll be spitting my opinions in various manners, from my professional written work, to my insane blogging, to my website, to upcoming performances, to acting and godonlyknows what else. And anyone that doesn’t like it can always go elsewhere for their enjoyment. I admit it, I am a Drama Queen and an exhibitionist so I’m gonna show it all off.

I started doing yoga almost 2 months ago and as I’ve done with most things, didn’t take it seriously until whammo! 2 o’clock one morning I woke up (I have fiendishly bad sleeping habits) and couldn’t get my brain together so I got out of bed, put on some clothes and did a few postures. 20 minutes later, I was knocked the hell out. My brain races a lot and while the stretching etc. is tantamount to exercise (ANATHEMA) concentrating on my postures gave me a release from my ever-speeding mind. Yeah. In other words: Yoga is the shit.

I still can’t figure out why I sleep better on the couch at my boy’s crib than I do in my own bed. Well ok, that’s a fib. When I am at home, I am surrounded by my things. My tower, my mini, my pod, my pocket drive, my books, my sudoku, my files (you get the picture). There’s always something to do. I go to sleep thinking about things I could do and wake up a half an hour later with an idea so I jump out of bed. Even if it’s only to write a paragraph on how I’m feeling. Or add to a story I’m already writing. Or mess around with a program I’m learning. Or whatever. My options are limited at someone else’s crib. No matter what I think of, I’m not surrounded by my enormous amount of crap so there’s little I can do about any quicksilver inspirations. I think my brain knows that, so it just sleeps. I gotta learn to control this or I’m going to be caught between burn-out and sleeping in other people’s houses.

I’m supposed to be on this path to being a nicer, more forgiving person and such and such. I keep falling down on that path. I was telling one of my closest friends about it. He nearly choked laughing. He should have choked. He told me that wasn’t me. I hate the fact that he’s right. Hate it. But he is. It’s not that I’m not a nice person, I’m a sweetheart (somewhere in Manhattan there’s a man choking on laughter yet again) really I am, but if I have something to say, I usually say it, and it doesn’t always exactly come out with sugar on it. I want to work on that but people are so fantastically full of shit that it’s making it hard for me. I like being honest. Yeah girl, that dress makes you look fat. Don’t get mad at me, you asked for my opinion. Change your clothes or trust your own judgment.

Get ready for some cussing: I’m still dealing with the fact that people keep touching my fucking head. I mean really. Random motherfuckers walk up to me in the street and the dialog goes something like this:
Them: Excuse me miss but I have got to tell you, I love your cut
Me: Thank you
Them: I wish I had the courage to do that.
Me: It doesn’t take courage, it just takes clippers
Them: What made you do it?
Me: It was time
Them: Well I have got to say (hand raises to my head and the rubbing commences) it’s really nice
Me: Can you please take your hand off my head. Thank you.
Them: Oh I’m sorry. (Still rubbing my noggin)
Me: Seriously, stop touching my fucking head. (Then I huff and walk away)
Complete strangers, with strange hands, keep touching my head. It’s a fucking epidemic. I think I may have to grow my hair back.

Speaking of my head, I wish people would stop advising me to get a shape up. I like my hairline. It’s me. It’s natural. And I’m not a dyke or a dude. No shape up for anything but the back. That’s my final word on the matter.

My list of “fuck you’s” is growing longer. It’s sad. But the good thing about it is I don’t even have to tell these people fuck you. I just don’t talk to them. I’ve been looking back on the last 4 years and seeing how I wasted copious amounts of time with people who don’t deserve it. I’m glad I see it so I don’t have to fritter away any more precious moments. Rule of Thumb right now? If I don’t talk to them in the next 3 months I’ll probably never talk to them again. Oh well. Shit happens.
Did I mention I’m hornier than Bambi? It’s at a critical stage right now. I feel like a pervert. All I keep thinking about is what kind of naughty things are gonna happen when I get my hands on … lemme not even continue on this vein. ACCIO SQUISHY!!!!

Turning my obsession with symmetry and order into a business was a great idea. I finally found an outlet for my need to organize, sort, categorize and plan. I never realized how much a fledgling business needs someone to put their ducks in a row. It’s hard to do things with your files all over the place and who the hell wants to label all those folders, arrange all those supplies and generally make sense out of chaos. I do. That’s who. Sheer fucking genius.

Online diary. Public therapy via bloggity blog bloggin. Ok, I think I’ll stop now. I just thought of something I need to plot out.