As I See It ...

Testing the iPhone app

Yolanda — Tue, 04 May 2010 16:31:10 +0000

The Great Tn Flood of 2010- Seeing the town I love so much under water blows.

The current weather/natural disaster siuation worldwide has me humming more often than usual REMs “Its the End of the World” LOL.

Only three more weeks of Lost. The idea makes me feel lost! Excellent tv, I will miss you!

The oil slick- WTF. That’s all I’m gonna say about that LOL.

You know how you find something cool and kinda underground but then it goes totally mainstream & you’re like ugh! That’s how I’m starting to feel about Glee. If a rumored Britney Spears episode happens I just don’t think I can stick around in good conscience. I mean the show I fell in love with for a phenomenal rendition of Queen’s “Somebody to Love” might be finding a way to gyrate to “I’m a Slave for You”? The eyerolling hurts again, make it stop!

Poor Lindsay Lohan. That’s all I can really say. If you have that kind of money and star studded cell phone list and I still feel sorry for you, then there is definitely a problem! There’s no need to provide any links here is there? I mean from the Enquirer to Ladies Home Journal everybody has Linds in their mouth (shut up I was being ghetto not dirty! lol).

This season of Breaking Bad has been fantastic- not really shocking. What does continue to surprise me (especially sine I started watching Malcolm in the Middle reruns) is just how good and versatile an actor Bryan Cranston is. He’s almost as wonderful to watch as Michael Emerson. Almost! LOL

Last night’s Fame & Recovery on A&E was quite entertaining. Lawrence Taylor seemed to have a real ordeal happening; Tara Conner just got embarassed when the party got exposed and her business was all over front street- and the front page. I think it’s somehow physically miraculous that a person could play a sport like soccer, football or basketball and have a stimulant habit. That’s just begging your heart to flip you the bird.

Gay divorce. Aren’t we still pushing for gay marriage?! LOL but I guess everyone should have the right to declare love and devotion to one person until death do you part while always having an exit plan in place no matter what your sexual orientation. /snark

real love hurts real bad

Yolanda — Wed, 31 Mar 2010 05:46:24 +0000

I finally figured out why the end of this “relationship” hurts so much. Looking back over my life I’ve said I was in love several times. In reality, I’ve only been twice, and this was the 2nd. The first guy- who magically i’m still friends with- and I never had a label , but the situation between us was rife for me to develop feelings for him. He taught me chess, read me poetry, we had great sex, better conversation, he was/is so intelligent and warm… he even took me to his parents house to meet them. When he found out the next day that I really had feelings for him, it was over in an instant, and it took me … well, actually some part of me still isn’t over that. I truly loved him & if he ever needed anything from me to this day I’d be there. Obviously not in our old way as he’s now happily married, but as a friend. He was always a good friend.

This heartbreak is similar. I found myself praying nightly for this guy. Not praying that I would “get” him mind you, but praying that he gets the desires of his heart within God’s will even if they didn’t include me. I considered asking if I could do free PR/publicist work for his band because making it as a musician is his dream and I wanted to help him get that dream. I went to a 1Corinthians 13 love place with this guy. It was the first time since the guy above that I was truly willing to play back up and had no real selfish motive (other than being in a happy relationship with someone I consider amazing). I wanted nothing more than to make both of these people happy and be in their lives yet I ended up crushed.

In my only “real” relationship that lasted 2 years, none of the above really applied. It was a self destructive, selfish relationship. I cared more about my own happiness than his for sure- mostly due to being hurt so many times previously. In the two years I spent with him, I never felt an iota of what I felt for guy 1 or this current guy. I maybe prayed for him once. I didn’t feel the intellectual or interest connection, but I stayed around anyway. Maybe this is karma- though in reality, with my man history, Karma owes me Lenny Kravitz/Slash/Robbie Williams clone. LOL

I think I’m done with love and men. I literally barely survived guy 1, the “real” relationship landed me in the hospital for weeks after a suicide attempt & guy 2? Well, like childbirth, heartbreak can’t be prepared for. It hurts as much (if not worse) the 10th time as the first. I won’t survive another one and I know it.

The Death of a Dream

Yolanda — Wed, 24 Mar 2010 21:27:55 +0000

In the tradition of self fulfilling prophecies, perhaps I screwed up when I attained a “love hurts” tattoo on Valentine’s Day in 2002. At the time I was heartbroken, and I honestly also thought about Jesus’s love for us and how that love too hurt for him. For the majority of the month I have been nursing a broken heart from somoeone I probably shouldn’t have given my heart to in the first place, but when has that ever stopped me? LOL It’s also not like I had a choice in the matter. The first time I saw him I knew we weren’t done, and that was in 2001. Almost a year ago I wrote a post about rock boys and how I knew exactly what I wanted in a man. Less than a month later I ran into him again and just knew God had answered my prayers and laid before me the desires of my heart. Stevie Nicks warned me about this a long time ago, and just like then, I ignored her advice. Now I know that indeed, ‘thunder only happens when it’s raining, and players ONLY love you when they’re playing’. Sad but true. The time we spent together (no matter how seemingly short) highlighted the many many things we have in common, and I swear if there’s a better match out there for either of us then Godspeed b/c I can’t picture it. Unfortunately he sure can. Maybe this was wishful thinking that got out of hand on my part. Maybe it’s bad timing. Maybe I was never his type at all and he was just faking enjoying my company so he could almost get into my pants. The hurt is starting to decrease, but I’m having a harder time killing off the voice in my head that keeps repeating “maybe he’ll come around”.

A Short Confession

Yolanda — Wed, 17 Feb 2010 07:27:35 +0000

My love and support of marijuana are well documented/known. What isn’t documented at all and is hardly known- mostly because I guess I didn’t want to admit that “they” might be not totally wrong – is that all of my pot experiences haven’t been good ones. I don’t mean the occasional weed dude who forgets he was supposed to come by or the bag with lots of stems; I mean physically & psychologically bad- bordering on bad acid trip bad (though I must say I’ve never had a bad acid trip). The first time was in 2004. I smoked a blunt by myself and thought I had gone insane. I made my sister take me to the hospital so sure was I that it had been laced with something. I was wrong. It was just a bad reaction. I quit for a few months after that, but then I started back and all was well in Stonerville… until tonight when I shared a blunt & it happened again, but not as bad (and certainly minus the hospital!) However it was bad enough that I’m considering giving up pot altogether. Make sure to keep watching the news because that statement might be the signal of the Apocalypse! Trust me, I’m far more surprised than you are!! It must be said though that even if I quit, my stance and support won’t change.

the crazy is official!

Yolanda — Thu, 11 Feb 2010 20:03:26 +0000

Considering all the posts that led to it, I cannot believe I haven’t taken the time to say that my disability was finally approved in late January! I, of course, am overjoyed about this, but there was a moment of being taken aback as well. Afterall, statistics say that the majority of disability claims are denied twice before the applicant gets an attorney and goes before a judge; I did neither and it only took from May through January to get an approval. This leads me to believe that the powers that be decided fairly easily that I am indeed batshit crazy. Hmmm. Okay. Other than that little tidbit, I’m happy as a fat rat in a cheese factory! I can actually get my car fixed, have entertainment and start my US tour! I’ve missed being me. I can get back to espousing my opinions on daily news and pop culture and stop boring/making uncomfortable the masses with my depressed and angry life. Oh to be able to check my email from bed again! So, thanks to anyone who continuously read this even when it got midnight dark; you’ll be rewarded with sunshiney (yet still snarky and chock full of smart-assedness) posts soon!

Saints, sinners, tears and laughter

Yolanda — Sun, 24 Jan 2010 22:14:43 +0000

Today my daughter confessed her belief in Jesus’ death, resurrection and His being the son of God. I was extremely proud of this, if for no other reason than when I did it, I waited until sort of an ‘all-call’ so I wouldn’t have to stand up and do it alone. She didn’t care at all. I hope with everything in me that her religious experience brings what I thought it would bring me- a sense of peace, comfort, the knowledge that whatever I’m going through God’s got me and it will all work out. She seems to have a really good heart and a genuine servant mentality despite being spoiled and truly trusts that God’s got her.

I on the other hand woke up this morning groggy from too many sleeping pills, hungry, bloody, broke and without a single smokeable thing in sight. To say I was not in the right frame of mind for church would be a vast understatement- remember, I only showed up b/c my daughter told me she was joining. During service my baby filled out her offering envelope containing $3.50 and I was proud that she remembers to always give back to God. However, when I found out that particular offering was for Haiti, my hands started to shake and I fought the urge to lecture (as in, “Mommy’s fucking broke and those $3.50 would really help me out a helluva lot more than sending them to some foreign country where you know NOONE” Yeah, sorry Haiti, but I have serious problems too right now and my give a damn is totally busted in your direction. Hell, I’m about to be evicted over 50 fucking dollars!) and then fought the urge (in a major hardcore it literally brought me to tears the size of the fight) to not grab a few envelopes from the fund myself. ONLY because I was in church did it not happen. Had it been some fund being collected on the street, the result would’ve been I’d be smoking a pack of cigarettes right now. Savannah was trying to figure out why I was laughing and crying at the same time and all I could say was ‘cognitive dissonance’.

happy holidays

Yolanda — Mon, 14 Dec 2009 17:17:16 +0000

That was absolute sarcasm. Pretty sure my savior wasn’t even born this month, so all this Merry Christmas Happy Holidays shit is just that: shit. Now for the hilarity of why I am choosing to post this second. My dad picks me up from the psychiatrist’s visit from hell- actually it was the nurse practitioner who is only a psych knock off and I should’ve refused to see anyway- to bring me back to their house to do my laundry and what do i see on the front porch as soon as we pull up? A bag labeled “NAMI”. I guffaw and say “NAMI who?! Surely not the National Assn for the Mentally Ill” Dad says that yep that’s them. I internally go apeshit (and wait until I’m inside to go apeshit verbally). Seriously?! You can take out enough time to leave bags of shit for mentally ill people you don’t know, but the one who has half your DNA you could give a shit less about?! *utter shock*

Also, to my utter utter dismay, the fake shrink wouldn’t refill my xanax because I smoke pot. Nevermind that I’ve been smoking pot for years and have also had my Xanax script for YEARS. Even if I stopped smoking pot (not freaking likely) I’d have to stop for 6 months before she’d refill my script. Yeah, she got called everything short of a child of God. Oh! and the bleached bitch didn’t even give me a mood stabilizer to possibly help take the place of pot if I decided to quit. So now I have to figure out how to get to a real doctor who will fill my script (funny how none of the docs I’ve had in 5 years have had a freaking issue) and not give me shit. I have no pot at the moment, one cigarette I didn’t even bring with me, zero dollars and an urge to kill. Happy Holidays!

the homeless super-summary!

Yolanda — Fri, 06 Nov 2009 22:42:39 +0000

I asked for patience and I got my 78 year old Aunt an 11 year old with attitude and 5 year old who gives Satan himself a run for his money. Not to mention months of sleeping on couches- and floors! – and being at the mercy of others. Oh yeah, I repeatedly stated previously how I hated people and would be alone all the time if I could. While I still somewhat feel that way, I do acknowledge a need for companionship and face to face contact with others. I learned that taking the bus isn’t as soul-crushing as I had made it out in my mind to be somehow. After days of toughing it out, I’ve broken down and taken showers in places that practically made me feel dirtier afterward. I haven’t had my hair “done” since… February?! My iPod became my best friend. I haven’t had a consistent phone since… June really. Made 2.5 trips to the nuthouse… technically 1, and 2 separate .5 trips. I haven’t truly watched my own choice of TV show since May; so again, my iPod became my best friend. There’ve been random chemicals to sporadically almost magically appear, but as seems to be usual, this breakdown was brought to us by plain old depression and poverty. I do need my anti-depressant though… it at least keeps me out of the gun stores! LOL I still despise roaches. I will likely never have another child, and that just may be fine with me. I really love my own though… and dogs. Somehow on this ‘adventure’ I’ve also managed to sleep in three different places with dogs named Oreo. No, I’m not sure either why I find that so fascinating LOL. Yet again I want to go back to school, but this time the FA only plays the teensiest part ha-ha! My family is strange as the puppy and kitten who’ve become best friends on my cousin’s porch, but I’ve actually managed to have some good times in the midst of the madness. I still haven’t moved into my apartment- blah blah inspection company sucks postponement blah- and it makes me really sad but the fact is, I can bug the crap out of them or I can wait for this to work out when it’s supposed to- especially considering at this moment I don’t have the first month’s rent to give them anyway! Yep, gotta say the Celexa helps. Don’t get ahead of yourself though; nothing’s changed on the ‘Yo’s a hardcore realist’ front. HAHA

what a tragicomedy

Yolanda — Thu, 08 Oct 2009 16:32:57 +0000

…more tragedy than comedy, but it’s comical in a dark (we’re talking midnight black) way. Nothing’s changed in any significant way: car’s still dead, $0 to my name, no word on the disability still, and still without any sort of remotely permanent housing. In fact, the housing situation is probably the most tragic of all. I could likely deal with hunger, looking crappy and not being able to move if I got to be in my own space, but to continuously go through those things without the comfort of 4 walls and a door I can close has reduced me to tears on a multiple times a day basis. I have no hope left and I’m probably one of the angriest people you’ve ever met these days. Seriously, I completely shot off on my 78 year old aunt…. this is faaaar from something I’m proud of, but is an illustration all the same of how very close I am to snapping in a major way and killing everyone in sight. I don’t know how much longer this can go on. I attempted to hang myself a couple of weeks ago; obviously to no avail haha. My failure was due to not being able to get the cable cord to stay knotted (they don’t teach knots in Girl Scouts). I had a lovely bruise for a minute, but no death. Le Sigh. A friend of mine got shot and died a few weeks ago and another friend’s grandma died Sunday… but not me. I’m certain both of them wanted to live- the friend anyway had a kid on the way- and here I am, absolutely miserable, and still breathing. I knew coming here was a mistake, but like most things that have happened since May, it wasn’t my decision. When this finally ends my funeral had better be fucking empty or I swear I will haunt the hell out of some people. Don’t you dare show up to “mourn” my death if you didn’t give a shit about what led to it. Instead you can hang out with my mother- I’m sure she’ll have enough balloons and party hats for everybody.

the party never stops

Yolanda — Thu, 10 Sep 2009 15:19:23 +0000

Well this will be short, simply b/c I don’t want to waste the good moments in my life talking about everything else. At the moment i’m posted in a hotel room not wanting to even get out of bed. Yes, I’m pretty sure i’ll lie here until 5 mins before checkout. Anyhoo, still no car. My lying evil ass mother did say she’d get it fixed, but like the conniving bitch she is, she reneged. I stayed at my parents a whole 6 days before being kicked out (and this is after suffering the indignity of being home everynight at 10 like a child- there’s so much more to this story). Everyday i daydream about the ways my mother could die. Actually i fantasize about the ways i’d like to kill her. I don’t even fight these daydreams anymore… especially after that cunt told me she’s going to fight me on custody of my child she wanted dead from jump. Seriously, hacked up into a million little pieces wouldn’t hurt my feelings. I’m starting not to give a fuck about anything. The law, life, death, any of it. I still have zero income (still no word on my disability even after the completed psych eval and 5 months- fuckers), no place to live and no car. I tried to buy a gun 3 different times last week (yes, I fully plan to blow my head off soon) and got shot down (haha) each time. WTF?! I don’t even bother praying anymore. I’m tired. Nothing is getting me anywhere. Nobody gives a fuck. I am alone. I had to close my bank account for want of 8 fucking dollars. Seriously, i give up on life. After the gas station overdose i said i was done and i’d just stick this planet out and surely things would get better. They have NOT. I hate everything.