squishisms.com

Sometimes, I don’t even know why I am angry.  I just know that I am; that everyone sucks but me and they all need to stfu and getouttamyfaceandpersonalspace.  Later I will calm down and able to articulate that traffic sucked, or my feelings were hurt because blahblahblah… but in the moment – I have no idea why I am so angry.

I don’t think I should have to.  I don’t think I should have to explain to anyone why I am feeling the way I am in any particular moment.  I DO think that how I feel in any given moment should be acknowledged and respected.  I will do the same.  You will never have to tell me why you are not okay and need someone to go get ice cream with – just that you are not okay and need someone to go get ice cream with.  I’m a bad ‘fixer’ anyway.  I never know what to do or say when strong emotions are involved, and who the emotions belong to doesn’t matter.  But I can be there.

That is all I want out of the people in my life.  That is exactly what I want out of the people in my life.  Just to be there.  To understand that I am upset, unable to articulate why exactly I am upset, and go with me to get ice cream.  Or, as the case may be, make me a cheeseburger on skinny little lowcarb-whole-wheat-bread-things-that-aren’t-quite-buns-but-aren’t-bread-either and watch American Idol with me.

Yesterday was a good day, mostly.  I was (and still am) exhausted, but I got good news at work (the best really, but that is another blog for another place ifyaknowwhatimean) had date night with Teridactyl, loved the cheesy movie we watched… yada yada yada.  But then I sat in the tail end of rush hour traffic to get home after the movie.  And was cut off multiple times, flipped off and screamed at for simply being polite and merging when I found an opening, rather than zooming all the way up –as far as I could, and FORCING the other lane to stop to let me merge in.  Asshats.  I am angry all over again just thinking of it.  ugh.    And the longer I sat in traffic and the more I got honked at, the more I thought about everything else that I am currently not okay with in my life…

So by the time I got home, I was pissy.  My house is a wreck.  I still don’t have everything unpacked or put together – because when since the moment we moved in I have had this, that or the other to do every fucking day and the TWO days I have had to stay home, I just wanted to chill – because I hadn’t had a chance to do so since Christmas.  And the dogs wanted to crawl up inside my ass and hibernate.  And Robbie wanted to watch 24 because he missed it the night before because I was at the UT game.  And my Farmville crops were about to wither.  And I needed to shave.  And the boys wanted to talk about shows and festivals we cannot afford to go to.  And then give me advice on how I should spend my vacation time every year for the next twenty.

dinosaurs make me happy. dinosaurs in space?!? my week, she is made.

There were a lot of deep breaths taken.

And then Robbie realized I was pissy.

And he made me a cheeseburger.  And brought me a coke.  And went to get my pills when I sat down on the couch and realized I’d forgotten them in the computer room.  And then just sat with me and watched TV.

And that is why I’m marrying him.

I get it.  I really do.  You go to the movies, and you like whatever you see.  You want to share the happiness and joy you experienced with everyone else.  It made you happy, so obviously it will make them happy too.  You have to tell them about this movie that will make them happy.  You have to let them know that they will be happy if they go see it.

You, and every single other person that was in that theater with you, will go and tell all your friends about the movie.  Half will go see the movie, maybe half will like it as much as you did, and then they all go tell all of their friends, along with every other person who was in the theater with them.

I used to do it too.

I am poor, but more importantly, I am claustrophobic in the extreme.  I CANNOT go to movies opening night anymore unless someone can guarantee me that I will have someone I know WELL on either side of me to buffet me from the crowd of people I do not know.  I often wait at least two weeks before I will go see a movie, and even then I prefer to go on a weeknight or matinee showing.  (If I can drag Robbie out of bed for a weekend matinee, my life is perfect.)  I may even just wait to see it in BluRay.  It takes a lot to get me to a theater anymore.  I will be the last person to see the movie.

Always.

And by the time I go see it, I have either heard all about it and there is no point in spending the $40 it takes to go to the movies now, and then I’m irritated that I wasted the money and time.  Or, I don’t find it as entertaining as EVERY SINGLE OTHER PERSON alive apparently thought it to be and then I’m even more irritated at the waste of time and money – and irritated at the person who told me the movie was worth that (Read: You).

I am not big on romantic comedies.  Very few of them make me happy.  Up In the Air?  Not a fan.  Completely don’t get the draw of that, other than Clooney – who never gets naked.  ‘Dramas’ with Matt Damon or Leo DiCaprio?  Also not my thing (99% of the time, Blood Diamond is still one of my favorite movies ever.)  I don’t get moral treatises in movie form.  I just don’t.  Julie and Julia? Made me want to cry and stab people all at once.  And I still want those two hours of my life back.  Don’t even get me started on movies like Paul Blart,Bruno, or Napoleon Dynamite.

I can appreciate the high caliber of acting prowess…but not the movies themselves.

My alley is horrible movies.  Horror movies.  Action movies (without Bruce Willis, unless it’s the Die Hard movies).  I love foreign movies, with subtitles – dubbing is ridiculous.  Bread and Tulips is work of art.  And there are not enough words in the English language to fully describe my love for documentaries.  And I am my father’s daughter and will always watch SciFi movies, and love them, regardless of hole-y plots and bad acting.

Occasionally I do like the movies everyone else likes.  Most recently – Avatar and Star Trek.  These movies tend to be HUGE blockbusters.  Movies with huge promotional campaigns.  Movies everyone anticipates, including me.  Movies that McDonalds makes a special French Fry container for and/or BurgerKing invents cups for.  Movies I will have decided to go see long before you (and everyone else) come tell me how awesome it is and the thousand reasons why I should go see it.  I will have been dodging commercials and trailers for weeks, to keep from knowing more of the plot than I want to.  To keep from expecting anything from the movie.  So that I cannot be let down.

And then my weeks of careful avoidance are ruined by one sentence from someone who just can’t contain their excitement.

The internet is ruining us.  We are all, myself included, guilty of over-sharing.  We can tell literally every single person we know each time we have a bowel movement through FaceBook or twitter if we so choose, and some do.  We have gotten used to being able to inform the world of every single action we take and how that makes us feel.

We don’t wait to be asked anymore.

“I saw Avatar last night.”

“Oh yeah?  How was it?”

“Ohmigod it was the bestest movie that ever bested!  I loved it!  You haven’t seen it?   You should go see it.  I’ll take you to go see it, right now.”

Has become :

“SoandSo SuchandSuch      JUST WATCHED AVATAR AND OMG EVERYONE GO SEE IT RIGHT NOW RIGHT NOW RIGHT NOW!!!ELEVENTYONE1!!!  I’LL GO WITH YOU!!!”

Again:

Which brings me to my second point:

No.  I do not want you to go with me to see it, if you have already seen it.  You will give away the plot.  You’ll lean forward in your seat in anticipation of the gunshot.  Or look to me to see how I will react to the betrayal about to occur.  Or you’ll talk through the whole damn thing telling me to “just wait” for what’s about to happen.

Some movies, I don’t care.  I don’t care if you tell me if you liked it, or didn’t.  Or what RottenTomatoes has told you think about it.  Or if you go with me and sit forward in your seat and preemptively shield your eyes from the Scary coming…

In those cases:  I WILL ASK.

Is it so much to ask that I not be told if I don’t ask?  Really?

***Note:  I am aware the blog above is petty and pouty.  This is me not caring.  >_<***

I am 28 years old.  Three of my closest friends, my inner circle, are Quadragenarians.  These women steady me.  They ground me.  They have no Qualms about calling me on my shit.  They have a decade more experience navigating this Quagmire called Life than I do, and they share it freely.  They don’t tell me I’m too young.  They don’t Question my knowledge of my Self.  I love them, and am grateful they are in my life.

That I love and appreciate a particular Ms. Quello goes without saying, methinks.

Quaker is now making High Protein and High Fiber Oatmeals in delicious flavors.  This I am also grateful for.

I am grateful for Quiet Saturday mornings with my dog and a book on the chaise.  I am grateful I can almost see the definition of my Quadriceps again.  I am grateful that in high school my Math teacher taught me a song to remember the Quadratic Equation.  (Okay, maybe not, but ‘Q’ is hard, dammit.)

I’ve never had quail and I’m honestly not a fan of quiche…

Um….. Q is hard.  /pout

Questions?