Ass Chappage

What chaps your ass? I don't really have much ass, and that ticks me off. I've got a bike though, so a small one is growing.

When frustration sets in, it's tough to keep telling yourself to calm down. To remind yourself that if you don't take a breather in an uncomfy situation, you'll look like an idiot. Not to mention, all of that negative energy can actually hurt you. There are ways to bring down the boil, and I'm on a mission to find what will help in even the nastiest of emotional kitchen fires.

I started to write down the things that bothered me. What I found was that when I read over those notes again later, I would start to back my bitchy self up. I would literally agree with almost everything that my attitude-spewing self had been thinking when she shittily jotted down what made her upset. I made justifications for acting like a dick, and that's just not cool. So, I brainstormed a bit more, and discovered another way to combat the Cold-Ass-Bitchies.

What your ungrateful caboose will need: 

BBQ Skewers- as many as you feel like scoring to cut in half. Breaking them will result in splinters, and more ass-chapping.

Colorful scraps of paper- I have oodles, and you only need small strips, so you can take them from just about anything that you're not using.

A fun pen- one you love, that doodling feels goood with.

A small jar or cup- to place once-skewers, now Ass Chap Flags in.

Here's what to do:

This is incredibly easy- and feels awesome, so hush up about working for it.

1. Write things that you love on the scraps of paper. 

These could be things that make you happy about yourself, or just things that make you smile. Ex: Puppies.

Three of my Ass Chap Flags say puppies. Please, even Super Shredder smiles at puppies.

2. Dab some Elmer's on the wordless side of your strip of paper, and fold it around the end of your skewer. It should look like a flag, with your message on the outside.

3. Put said flag in jar. 

4. Repeat as many times as you can without wanting to scream.

Now you have a cool thing to go to when you're feeling down on yourself. Or about anything else. Like not being able to go out and get a puppy. 
STEVEN.

Trees And Apples

They say where one grows, the other doesn't fall from. I call bullshit.

When someone mentions Father's Day, I'm usually uncomfortable enough to ease into another topic very quickly. I have a few great dudes to look up to, don't get me wrong. My uncle Eric is my godfather, and he's awesome. My World Series of Poker-playing gramp is the man, and I can call my step-dad up anytime and gab about anything from video games to menstrual cramps [really]. These cool guys aside, I am estranged from my biological father.

I have the mindset to run from anything that hurts. Even after so many years without a solid relationship with my dad though, I'm still not used to the fact that he couldn't be what he should have. I find it difficult to understand how it's possible for anyone who becomes a parent to not want to drop everything they're doing and do right by their little one. I guess he tried when I was small, according to family, but I can't remember that far.

I have plenty of friends who are children of divorce, and we all turned out alright. Some are like me, and don't talk to one of their parents at all. We probably know enough to get out of situations that we'd rather not bring children into, at the very least. I consider that to be pretty valuable, because I can look to a good man like my boyfriend and expect nothing but smiles if we have babies together. If you know Steven, you will agree. Still, there's this guilt in me. Almost as if- even though I know that I didn't do anything wrong- I should still go to my father and let him know that I carry a loyalty to him.

More bullshit. That feeling just isn't fair.

At this point, reconciliation is a fairy tale. I've come too far after getting sick to waste time stressing about it, and that sucks... But I simply can't afford it. I'm building a career, and finally  healing from a monster sickness. I wonder if he even knows that. 

I'm not quite sure why I'm even posting this now. I haven't been able to find my way for what feels like lifetimes. I wish I had my dad to show me the right way. I wish he knew the right way. And I wish that I wasn't so angry that he never has.

It's Okay Not To Be Okay

To Whom It May Concern:


It's come to my attention that I am unbearably, and undeniably, unhappy. There have been few things lately that make me feel as though I have something to be proud of myself for. After spending so much time wondering what things would be like if I'd ever come out of so many terrifying Crohn's flare moments, it's almost gotten old for me to try for it.  Pieces of me sort of don't even care anymore. Small things that made me so happy seem so difficult to do. Objects are heavy. My body doesn't work like it used to. People are at such faster paces than I am. I don't speak when I'd like to. I resent anyone and everyone for what their abilities are that mine don't- and won't- hold a candle to. I think that I've actually started to hate things. 


I'm writing about this because I should. Because when you're this down, but you still have hundreds of reasons to be happy, you should let your feelings out in words that will prove to benefit you when you decide to read them back to yourself. To say to that sad, weak you, 'So you started over and it was a hell of a lot harder than you thought it was going to be. What are you crying about? You're alive'. I've learned a great deal about myself by exercising this method of therapy. Though I still harbor ill feelings about a lot of people, things, and situations -most of which, do not deserve my shitty judgement. 

I know how hard building my life is going to be. I get small tastes of it everyday. There really is no greater struggle than a struggle within yourself. I'm incredibly angry about what's happened to me. I want to find someone to blame. I want to blame everyone. I'm finally ready for my body to start feeling better, but I forgot how much it used to do. I can't even ride a bike yet. It will take me, I don't know how long, to even get up a hill. I guess I know one thing- after all the peddling I'm about to do, the breeze at the top better feel fucking amazing.


Rant over.


Will someone come over with cookies now?