beauty

I'm a people watcher. i can't help it. people amaze me. i break it down to a science. i watch how people interact in day to day life and sometimes wonder how they made it so far.
one of my favorite things to do is sit myself down in a crowded Starbucks and just listen to how people interact. sometimes in these kids of settings you can hear the filthy underbelly of how some people really are.

on one such trip i listened to an older lady (about 60ish years old) go on for about an hour about how bad Starbucks was. apparently they made her coffee incorrectly and instead of asking for a new one she just sat and bitched about how this was some sort of micro-analogy of society as a whole. how Starbucks does not want to make you the coffee you want they make the coffee that they think you should be drinking. her husband just sat there the whole time listening to her bitch. i sat and listened to her bitch and was a little disgusted that all she wanted to do was bitch and not do anything about it.

hey bitch, here's a piece of life lesson for you. get it your fucking self!
i mean seriously. why would you go to a Starbucks and bitch about the coffee for a fucking hour and not do anything to correct the issue?

seriously.

on another people watching adventure i watched as two girls(15ish) spend many a minute in the mirror of a bus station bathroom priming their hair and make up to perfection.

it made me think about being that age. i remember so desperately wanting to be my own person. i was so different from other girls. i didn't dress the same. my body wasn't the same and i saw life differently. but i so wanted to be beautiful. wanted to be seen as accepted for all that i was but outstanding for what i was as well.
with out criticism. i think i hardened myself by being so different.
i would kill myself to please people. to be accepted for who i was. it was so important to me i could drown in a sea of poor self worth. very few people took the time to actually know me, the real me. just like a tortoise the shell was enough to keep people away.
i starved myself to be attractive. i got beat up to be accepted. anything.

i see now. how important it is to be beautiful. not just to yourself but for other people to see you as beautiful and seek out your individual beauty. very few people will recognize it because it comes out very seldom. those who can see it are very special people. it takes a special person to really see someones true beauty.

dear anonymous reader.

oh my shit i have 600-something views to my blog. i wonder if anyone actually reads my shit regularly. amazing to think that someone may have this fucker book marked on their favorites and reads my inane banter.
if you do, thanks. if not, i am not offended.

jessie

i miss jessie



i lost most of my friends when i had kids. most of them disowned me or just don't have time for me. because i don't really drink and go fuckin nuts every night like i used to, but jessie always has time for me. shit, he makes time for me.


( circa 2003ish lots of cocaine and cheap drinks at the boiler room)

the woman beater

talking shit about your ex does not speak very highly of yourself, but a picture is worth a thousand words.





yes, i am aware of the fact that i have no eyebrows

valerie

been knitting an ugly blanket. ugly blankets consist of a hodge-podge of different colors of yarn that would never normally go together, but once put together are sentimentally cute like a bull dog. I'm pleased with it so far.

much of the yarn i have was gifted to me from a family friend who just recently passed away.Betty. i think about her every time i sit down and knit. i never had a chance to really speak with her. she was a friend of Aaron's family and in the short time that he and i have been with each other i had only really met her once. at 90(something) years old she knitted a sweater,booties and a blanket for my daughter. i think about the hands that made them, all of the things she has touched. how she lived through world war two. she raised kids and had a family. she knitted blankets for the war vets at the hospitals and nursing homes. i think about all of this and wonder why she gifted these things to me.

i carry a lot of weight as a mother and a wife.my cup and clock are always full and yet i feel like i could do so much more. i could give more and make an impact.like she did.

i think about a lot of things when i sit down and knit. social situations politics. i think about how the world went and got it's self in a big god damned hurry. i wonder why the picture on the wall isn't so evident for everyone to see. socially we are digging ourselves into a hole. we are separating everyone into boxes of minorities and then telling them that they are like everyone else, but not.

i think about how the media represents blacks,mexicans asians and the like in such a negative light and then tells the white community not to discriminate. they show hoards of immigrants trying to find a better life and tell us that we're better off just kicking them out. then they have the gall to tell us we have no right to feel anything negative about any sort of minority after blasting us with countless hours of ignorant and racist commentaries about gang violence and the real world of "colored" people. they have so tightly packed these poor people into a niche that they can't get out of it and have to propagate what they have been told that they are. so who's really to blame?

who's really responsible for these ill groomed social graces? no one makes the decision anymore. they just turn on the tv and wait to be told how to think.