On the Cusp of Something

Do you ever read things and immediately experience an overwhelming sense of sadness, so much so, that you feel your heart literally break for just a few seconds?

I was reading a magazine that listed this website. It is supposed to have cool mixes of songs, which you can see here. I scrolled down to read the titles of of the mixes and caught this one.

"Songs to help you get through losing both your parents when you're only 20 years old"

Yeah, my heart broke. Truly, it did. I nearly cried.

There's also an article on Salon about Wilco. The introduction was, "He is trying to break our hearts," and for some reason, I immediately felt mine tugged.

It's been years since I've experienced true, heart wrenching heartbreak. For some reason, that feeling seems so incredibly distant, like a dream I dreamt ten years ago. Every now & again, something pops up and reminds me of what that felt like. That heavy, insurmountable, crushing, breath-stealing, I cannot-see-past-this-moment feeling. The tears that flow in every moment of silence. I kind of miss feeling that alive. It's an inspiring time for me. I close up, and I live inside that moment, paralyzed. There's really nothing else like it. You want to go back; you need a do-over, and yet, you are unable to move forward. You are completely stagnant, and nothing seems to capable of budging you.

Who Do I Know with a Pool?

If I ever call you between the hours of 11A.M. through, let's say, 2:00P.M., you really need to pick up your phone. There's a good chance that I have found a deal for you, and it's probably something that you totally want or need. (I firmly believe there's a fine line of separation in those two words.)

Me: "Hey, do you need any beach towels?"

My Aunt: "No, why?"

Me: "I'm shopping, and I can get them for a really good deal."

My Aunt: "How much?"

Me: "$3.00."

My Aunt: "Oh, get me four!"

I didn't even have to tell her that these are the really good ones that sell for $20 a piece and can wrap around your body at least three times. So, rather than spending $90 on them, or even $25, I got four for $13 because I am totally bad ass and don't mind gloating about it.

It kind of feels like stealing.

Mercy has My Name

I've nearly given up on this blog. It just takes far too much clicking & editing now to get anything accomplished. I miss the old Blogger.

For starters, I had to go to the dentist today. I can think of few things worse than sitting in that dental chair with the high-pitched whirling noise of that damn drill combined with that gritty tooth polish. Every muscle in my body tenses at that place. I just want it to be over with. I'm a clean freak who constantly wonders if I'm grossing someone out. As my hygienist was scraping the plaque off my teeth, I was seriously thinking I was probably repulsive to her & that I had, apparently, not been taking care of my teeth judging by the work she had to put in. Just as thoughts were on the downward spiral, she said, "You have excellent teeth. They are so clean. I can tell you practice good hygiene." If she only knew that I spend about ten to fifteen minutes in the morning brushing them several times with at least two (sometimes three, though I rotate between four) different types of toothbrushes. I have a high, bordering on irrational, petrification of appearing to gross to anyone. It propels me to elevated levels of cleaning, whether it be my teeth, hair, room, or car. I probably need some medication.

In other news, I logged on to pay my mobile phone bill, and my heart nearly stopped. My bill was twice the amount it was supposed to be. As I drilled into my account, I realized that I went OVER MY MINUTES. WTF?! I'm a Reno. We don't do things like that, like ever. I might as well have bounced a check. The anxiety level in my body is at an all-time high. I've never bounced a check, never paid a fee, never paid a bill late. I just don't do things like that. I would be a sobbing heap of tears in the floor. Anal people don't make mistakes like that. I did breakdown and call the company. The customer service guy was really nice, and he did credit me some of the amount. I couldn't feel more pathetic.

Reading the Fine Print

Despite the fact I am somewhat cynical, I decided I try this whole picture-posting thing and remain positive about it. I'm sure it's going to work perfectly.

This happens to be the one of three women on the planet I would totally turn lesbian for--even though at her concert, I nearly had to rough up some badly dancing dikes that were invading my very, very, very pricey front-row seats. I was also accidentally rude to a really, really, really cute guy, which I did apologize for.

Okay, nix that. I just read the fine print. I'm totally screwed, and I cannot post my illicit photos of Sarah McLachlan.