3/3/9

I have created this blog based on inspiration from my friend. She furiously chronicles her thoughts and translates her emotions into lyrical poems and (fittingly) songs. I like the very down-to-basic feel of her blog for it's dear diary properties.
I want a dear diary.
Much too often I am spewing inner-most thoughts and desires and increasingly, obsessions, to my friends. It is appropriate in a way, but the way I have come to depend on them (for fucksake, if I can't get a hold of Melissa I will call my father! -note: melissa and my father have at&t which makes it a free call, which might be behind this addiction) is not.

I so wish I had a cricket again. My inspirational friend was and is a fabulous partner. We would go back and forth for hours about how we feel and why we feel that way and tell each other that we are completely right and justified in our respective positions.
And while it is imperative that you have that select handful of people in your life to guide you through the issues that threaten your sanity, there is something very liberating about a diary.

So, bloggy diary, here it comes.

I am twenty six years old. I have a beautiful three year old son sired by a douchebag who is sweet and mildly cool, but as deep as a puddle. I am in love with my future husband who I have loved since a brief encounter when I was nineteen that spawned a life long infatuation, and five years later the best experience I have ever shared with a human I can do it with.

I whole-heartedly desire to have a baby with him. I have wanted to be at our wedding since we began hanging out. I can still look at him and feel like maaaybe I'm not really good enough for him. I often wonder where couples are supposed to draw the line between completely in love and a teensy bit co-dependent.
I was once best friends with a beautiful human who I have to say I don't have time to be friends with anymore. I think about him and dream about him randomly but I choose to give too much to my man. Its not a painful choice, it's simply what comes naturally for me.
I have a crooked tooth that becomes more of an issue for me as I get older and the cockiness of youth fades slowly and steadily.
-this is fun

I obsess about pretty much everything I want until I have gotten it or obsessed long enough to realize there are better things to obsess about.

And I used to be a very cool chick. My taste in music was impeccable and I was confident enough to play my guitar in front of people and sing even without being hammered. I was adamant and passoionate about my ideas and always vocal about them and stood by them.
I never would have second-guessed my worth against any guys.

I do still try to put my thoughts and my energy into my spirituality. I pay attention to signs like glorious hawks swooping into my field of vision and telling me to calm down and savor my moments. But my obsessions have a nasty habit of knocking my number one goal so high up I forget its there.

I have, out of necessity or complacency, calmed down a lot. I relaxed my judgements and my standards. I am more open minded so that I don't have to fight so much. Especially in this back woods part of Texas. I love the good ole' boys and I love the crawfish boils. I am a mexican girl with a little mexican boy always in tow and I will stand up for that. But I like it here. Good people are good people no matter how thick the accent, how outrageously dyed the football head, or how tight the wranglers.
I'm content to be in the swamp.

So that's about it for now. I'm basically a woman. Just as fucking nuts as the rest of them. Lusting after the same things but feeling guilt about it due to the generation I was born into. I'm a mother and a survivor.
rawr
:-)