Monday, September 1, 2014

I miss writing.

I've recently become infatuated with a woman.

Oh no darlings, not like that, I'm still completely hetero, but Brittany Gibbons of Brittany Herself is my current obsession. She is a confident, witty, quite possibly the perfect amount of insane and I just know she'd be my very best friend if I knew her.

Before this begins to stack up against me in a court of law in the off chance she has a stalker, let me explain why I am singing her praises, she's encouraged me (indirectly of course) to write again. The problem is, when you're a writer, your craft has to be cared for and nurtured. I've spent much too long neglecting mine. I've simply forgotten how to write. I need to start again somewhere safe, with some guidance. Some lubrication for the gears, if you will.

So, when Brittany posted writing prompts for the month of September, I liked what I saw. I would like to start with Day 1.

You are having a dinner party, which 10 famous people would be on your guest list?

1. Drew Barrymore - she fascinates me in so many ways. She is a strong independent woman with an amazing heart. She's beautiful inside and out.
2. Dave Matthews - His music got me through some very difficult times in my life, I'd like the chance to thank him. Even though I feel as if I've begun to outgrow him like an old favorite pair of blue jeans.
3. Diane Sawyer - She's in the know. She's my favorite Nightly News person and I just have a feeling she could really throw down and I'm sure she has some GREAT stories that would come out when she's intoxicated. Hell, she possibly even went on the air drunk once. Party fucking animal.
4. Jamie Oliver -

It's at this point, I realize I hate writing prompts. I'm OCD, I'm a control freak, everything in my life is structured, in place, my writing was always the one thing in my life in which I felt free from myself.

Yes. That's exactly what I from myself.

So, with that, I'm going to continue to read Brittany Gibbons and Jenny Lawson, trashy romance novels and dystopian young adult fiction, until I find myself writing again. It starts here. With this step.

Tuesday, December 17, 2013

Much to my chagrin, I can't do this by myself.

So, it's been awhile.

Truth is, I've been down in the dumps. That might be a bit of a downplay. I've been down in the depths of hell below the dumps.

During one of my not-so-depressed times I remembered reading Allie Brosh's blogpost Depression Part Two and thinking it was the best explanation of depression I had ever seen. I'm sharing it with you now and hope that by reading it, you will get an idea where I'm coming from.

From Allie Brosh's Depression Part Two

I've suffered from depression off and on my whole life. I've been medicated for it on multiple occasions. There is absolutely nothing wrong with saying "Hey, I need a little help here." My problem is, I have a very "I can do it myself god damnit" attitude about everything.

Need a ceiling fan installed? I can do it myself
Need a mouse trapped? I can do it myself
Need to reach something on the top shelf? I will stack 2 stools unsafely, but I can do it myself.

This behavior can sometimes get me into troublesome situations and more often that not leads to injury.

Unfortunately, even though I know the signs of depression, I found myself going through the past few months thinking "I can do this myself. I don't need to go back on meds, I'm strong damn it. Everyone keeps saying so. All the time." And I haven't gotten help.

I had begun to feel as if my life was hopeless. I started to think of contingency plans for The Tiny Germans. I was in such a dark deep place, I didn't think I'd ever surface and honestly, I wasn't sure I wanted to. Like Allie says "I don't necessarily want to kill myself...I just want to become dead somehow." That was exactly how I felt. I was just tired of existing, tired of being strong, tired of crying, tired of life.

Then, I had an epiphany type moment while I was laying in bed one night, I was doing my typical "this year has been awful, one of the worst of my life" pity party. Earlier in the day a friend had invited me to Christmas, I got to thinking about that and felt that I was actually looking forward to it and not just a "oh, this will be better than sleeping all day" way. That got me thinking about all of my friends who have been there for me this past year. How much they have done for me. How lucky I am to have them. Near and far, online and in person.

A dimmer switch was turned slightly and my complete dark became a little bit lighter. I decided I want to be around for my friends.

But yet, I didn't want to ask for help. Because...repeat "I can do it myself."

It took several long talks with people who know me very well, and a glimpse into what I could become if I didn't get help to make me realize it was time. I scheduled a doctor's appointment for Friday.

It's not easy for me to ask for help. It's hard and it's scary. But the alternative, isn't so great.

Anyway, that's why I've not been around much. Well that and I've been dealing with a Hipster Mouse in my House, a roof leak, a divorce and financial chaos. I'm no shrink but I think all of this might be related to my deep dark place somehow.

I hope to be back soon and better than ever.

Tuesday, October 29, 2013

Dreams are weird.

Dreams are weird.

I've always had weird and crazy dreams. I remember a lot of them too. I even remember some from when I was a young child. Sometimes I have a hard time waking up from my dreams. Sometimes they are so vivid, I wake up and get confused about where I am because 5 minutes ago I was somewhere else. It's pretty awesome, unless it's a bad dream and then it's far from awesome. Once I woke up thinking I had a child, when it wasn't in the house I went all "DINGO STOLE MY BABY!" for a solid 5 minutes. I should probably have my dreams analyzed, but I'm scared to do that because I'm pretty sure I'd be committed. Here is a Highlight Reel:

Christmas Morning - 1985 - My Mom has to wake me up to open presents. I'm 5 years old. I shouldn't have to be woken up. I should be up, jumping up and down to screaming to open the Popple that was wrapped under the tree that I totally saw my brother wrapping for me a few days before. When my Mom wakes me up (I remember this, clear as day) I look at her and ask "Where is Pizza? And Pepperoni?" she looks at me and says "You want pizza? It's Christmas morning! You can have some Froot Loops after we open presents." Exasperated I say "NO MOM! Pizza and Pepperoni are my bears." She proceeds to tell me that I don't have bears named Pizza and Pepperoni. I explain to her that I have 2 big stuffed bears named Pizza and Pepperoni, one was dark brown and one was light brown, and as I'm telling her, I realize that it was a dream and then I begin to cry hysterically because I really wanted the bears from my dream. They talked to me and were my friends. I still feel heartbroken when I think about this.

In my mid-20s I had a recurring dream that I lost body parts. At the time, I worked with a girl that only had 1 arm. So I totally blame her. She was born that way, but in my dream, unlike Lady Gaga and the girl I worked with, I was not. The body parts I lost would just fall off and while they were sometimes different, it was almost always my ear. In the dream I was riding on a bike, fleeing from my coworker with 1 arm while she ran after me exclaiming "Hey, you dropped your ear! Come back! They can give you a prosthetic!" It felt like hours would pass as I frantically rode my bike, trying to get away from her. It was terrifying. I haven't had this dream in some time but occasionally I will catch a glimpse of my ear and get chills

I have been broken up with exactly once in my life. I mean, really dumped. Like, out of the blue, what just happened, my heart will NOT go on Celine Dion I don't care what you say, don't sleep, don't eat, complete misery dumped. It happened over 11 years ago, was one of my shortest relationships ever (read: 4 months) and that son of a bitch still haunts my dreams. He was a total loser. Even so, when I dream about him I almost always end up waking up with my heart racing like it's going to explode from my chest and I'm completely covered in sweat. Not in a good way either. In a terrified, please dear baby jesus get me out of this dream right now, kind of way. And usually, I just see his face and he says "Hey".

Clearly, I have a major issue with rejection. But it's ok because my friend Casey tells me that all the cool kids do.I had one of these last night, it's what brought all this on. You can thank that asshole for this blog post.

I also randomly dream of Whales. Like, I'll be at a picnic, in the desert. BOOM, there's a whale. I'll be at my desk at work. BOOM, there's a whale. I'll be in a museum. BOOM there's a painting of a whale. This is a fairly new development and has been happening for about the past year. Whales. What the...

All of this only goes to show that the inside of head is a lot like the movie Jumanji. One crazy confusing movie staring Robin Williams.

What do you dream about? I truly want to know. Maybe it will make me feel less crazy?

Wednesday, October 23, 2013

Southern Speak: A field guide

I reside in the South, not the DEEP south, but certainly deep enough.I have for the majority of my 33 years however I have lived above the Mason Dixon line a time or two (literally two) and as such my accent tends to lean more toward whoever I'm speaking with at the time. Predominately though my accent is slightly southern. Probably more southern than I care to admit. I use "y'all" on a regular basis and I even use some of the phrases that I will outline for you in this guide...however, usually in jest.

Here in the south, things are done at their own pace and in their own way. It's hard to understand for someone who doesn't live here. Hell, it's hard for me to understand sometimes. What got me thinking about this topic is my friend Ashley who lives in Alaska, she has lived in the south herself, so she generally gets it, but she randomly asked on Twitter "I don't understand the south. Why do you need a homemade wreath for every month??" I responded to her the best way I knew: "Oh bless your heart...because that's just how it's done Sugar. We don't question these things." Then I had the idea to create a guide for my Yankee friends who aren't as familiar with Southern Speak so they would know the appropriate usage of some phrases familiar to those of us below the Mason Dixon as they may come in handy. Let's get started.

"Mih-Cud-Do" - pronounced exactly like it's spelled, a lazy conjunction (like most southern words) of Might Could Do. You see, in the south, when we want to tell someone how to do something, we aren't always very direct. So, we tell them, what they Might Could Do, if they were so inclined. Example: "What you Mih-Cud-Do is cook that bacon in lard, ya reckon?"

"Ya Reckon?" - a question, meaning: do you concur? Example: See above

"God Willing and The Creek Don't Rise." - One of my favorites, even as a non-God fearing person. This is a phrase that is meant to imply hope that a certain outcome will end in a positive result through God's will and good fortune in a difficult situation. Example: "God willing and the creek don't rise that woman admitting she wasn't God fearing won't get her stoned to death."

"Since God Was a Boy" - This one, I use frequently. It's used to explain a large passing of time. Example: "I haven't seen a Drag Show since God was a boy!" Sidenote: I got this one from Steel Magnolias, which is my favorite movie of all time.

"Over Yonder" - This one I grew up with a lot in the mountains of NC. It was tough for me as I am terribly challenged directionally. It's a direction in which you must travel or where something is located, it's a direction much like "over there" but in the country that could be 15 miles away. Example: "I know I left my sunglasses over yonder but I can't find 'em nowhere."

"Bless Your/Her/His Heart" - I saved this one for last, it's probably the most commonly used Southern Speak and the most widely known. The beautiful thing about it, is how versatile it is. It can be used to imply sympathy, gratefulness or a kind form of disapproval and even exasperation. It's genius. As such, I have multiple examples for it's usage:

"Bless his pea pickin' little heart, he never saw that coming. The bull threw him in no time."

"Bless her heart, she dresses like such a tramp though I know her Mama raised her better. It's no wonder she got pregnant."

"Bless your heart, you read this whole blog post. Thank you."

Any other southerners out there have any tried and true Southern Speaks they use on the regular? What about you Yankees? I'm friends with a few Bostonians that have more than a few.

Monday, October 21, 2013

Basically, I'm the white Oprah Winfrey

Let me preface this blog post by stating clearly that I will not be giving you a car, or a house, or a book club, or an expsenive gift bag from the Oscars...although I would totally love to be able to run around shouting:

"YOU GET A CAR! YOU GET A CAR! YOU GET A CAR!" and laugh manically.

While on vacation I stayed with my friend who is a professional Myers Briggs Test Giver for a living...

Ok, maybe she does more than that, but let's just say a very small part of her job is giving people bubble tests and then calculating how they communicate and what their main personality traits are. I find this fascinating because I do not understand myself at all so I jumped at the chance to have her tell me.

She administered the test to me while I was drinking beer, but I'd only had 2 so I doubt it effected the outcome very much as I have a very high beer tolerance. That too, has been tested. Apparently I was thinking too much about my answers, so after a quick correction to just "Go with my gut" I began filling in bubble dots like it was my job.

She took out her handy dandy scorecard and rated me while I slammed back another beer stood around nervously. She then handed me my results, I was an E.N.F.J. I know what you're thinking and it's likely the exact same thing I thought when given this discovery of a lifetime.

What the fuck does that mean?

She pulled up some stuff for me to read and even showed me a badass Powerpoint presentation with flying dragons and ninjas (ok, so I may be exaggerating but it was very informative) but to be honest, at this point I was up to 4 beers and nothing really sunk in. BUT, since I got home, I've began to research what being an E.N.F.J. means. According to this is a quick breakdown:

Do you see that? I am a fucking humanitarian. It says so. Right there. In print.

It also says, that we are very rare, accounting for only 3% of the population. I'm an extrovert but can get easily exhausted if I don't stop to take time for myself. I enjoy close, supportive connections with others (and my bras, although this doesn't say that it's very true) and I tend to be a bit of an empath and hurt when others close to me are hurting. I am sensitive to feedback positive and negative (stroke my ego a little, you'll see) and I strive to leave the world slightly better than I found it. I am also a sucker for a to-do list.

Everything I've read has been pretty spot-on. I find it interesting that it's made me more aware during my interactions with others because I've never really given a shit before.

Famous ENFJs include Oprah Winfrey, Pope John Paul II, Margaret Mead, Ralph Nader, Abraham Maslow, Dr. Phil McGraw, and Martin Luther King, Jr.

So, basically, based upon my cheery general demeanor, predisposition to stress eat and love of entertaining I conclude that I am the white, broke Oprah Winfrey.

Interested in what your Personality Type is? You can take the test at Free Personality Test. However, it will not be nearly as awesome as taking the bubble dot test at my friend Heather's house in her kitchen while drinking beer.

Saturday, October 19, 2013

Netflix is ruining my life or preparing me for my future

Sorry it's been awhile since my last post, you see, I've been on vacation. It's this wonderful time where I like to unplug from the internet world and play in in the real one. It was wonderful, thank you for asking! I went up to Virginia to visit some friends and further fell in love with the Hampton Roads area. I also drank a lot, ate a lot and had lots of fun. However, that is not the point of this entry today.

Netflix is ruining my life. Seriously. I used to be a productive person. I used to do crafts, write, read, leave my house on my days off...all great things. Then, I got Netflix.

It began simple enough, I watched Season 1 of Wilfred, it didn't take long since it's only a 30 minute show. Only 20 something without commercials.

Then I didn't watch for awhile, then I got hooked on Revenge and Scandal. I couldn't stop watching. MUST SEE ALL EPISODES OF EVERYTHING!

Life began to revolve around how many episodes I could get in a night. I had to know what happened next. To the point that I began to lose interest in shows that had the audacity to make me wait an entire week for an episode. How dare they! Orange is the New Black would never do that to me.

When I finished Bomb Girls, I said I was done for awhile. I was going to take a break. I needed to take a break. But I'm weak. Last night I was bored, there was nothing on TV...instead of opening a book like I should have done, I grabbed my Wii remote, opened up Netflix and dove into the first 6 episodes of The Fosters.

I just couldn't help it. I'm ashamed. I have no control.

I'm Tonyne and I'm a Netflix addict. While I'm ashamed of my addiction to binge watching TV dramas I feel as if I have learned some useful things. I am fully confident that my schnauzers understand me in ways no one else does, that in jail I could not only survive but actually do well making toiletries for other inmates and when I got out I could go live in the Hamptons and revenge something with epic flair. I could then spin myself out of trouble while wearing fantastic clothes and if that didn't work I could build a bomb to blow up everyone that didn't go along with my carefully crated spin. Then, I could live happily ever after with my lesbian wife that I probably meet during my stint in prison while raising our 12 foster children.

So, what are you watching these days? What should I place next in my Netflix List?

Wednesday, October 9, 2013

My favorite things: Bathroom Edition

I get really excited over stuff. Like "OH MY GOD! I LOVE THAT!" Excited. I like to think I don't get excited over stupid shit and I definitely don't call stupid shit my favorite things. So I figured I would share some of my favorite things with whoever reads this. This is the first edition of "My Favorite Things".

I picked this St. Ives Lotion up last week on a whim. I don't normally buy lotion but when I do, it's always on a whim.'s when I'm out of lotion. I'm pretty sure this time was a whim. Point is, I bought it. It smelled nice. I began using this lotion and now I am full on addicted. It feels amazing, keeps my skin feeling hydrated all day and it smells so, so good. It's also affordable, I think I paid less than $4 for the bottle.

This is how I kept my jewelry. For years. I ran late for work at least twice a month because I had to untangle a necklace before I could wear it. I went on a deep cleaning spree before hosting a party last week and because of how my brain works I was certain the people coming to the party would judge me if they walked into my bathroom and saw my jewelry in such a mess. So I had an idea.

I grabbed some tiny cup hooks I just happened to have (I'm not entirely sure why, I don't hang tiny cups or any cups) and screwed them into the wall. I was able to do this by hand and I had this nifty worthless wall space to use right next to my mirror. It's super convenient and I happen to think it looks kind of cool. The party was a success...I think this might be why.

I once stole a condiment cup from Outback Steakhouse. There, I said it. If I go to jail please make sure the Tiny Germans are taken care of. They like to sleep in bed with you and snuggle, they also like carrots and playing fetch...

You know the Blooming Onion deal and how it comes with that awesome dipping sauce? Well, as hard as it is to believe, after several beers one night I still had Blooming Onion and the dipping sauce left. So, I put the whole cup in my To Go box. I'm not proud. And while I am not recommending you steal from Outback, I have to say, that there condiment cup is THE BEST Bobby Pin holder in all the land. I had Bobby Pins EVERYWHERE, I would leave them loose on the counter or in on my jewelry dish or loose in the basket where I store my hairbrushes. This sits neatly on the counter and I can always find my Bobby Pins, which I use A LOT.

Ok, so, that's it...those are My Favorite Things for my Bathroom. What are some of YOUR favorite bathroom things?