Hey! Thanks a bunch!

Earlier, @4: You really know how to make me feel loved, my peeps! I really frickin appreciate all your trolling…makes me feel good! I’m so underwhelmed by your response to me. Now you know you’re not the only one who doesn’t read this pos. Srsly, am I being punished? Rather passive-aggressive of you, wouldn’t you say? Normally you’d just tell me to my face, eh?

Took Natalie to the market square today to ride the merry-go-round and ended up riding the spinning teacups instead. Bought a new scarf today. It’s red. Also bought Natalie grey pants and a grey skirt to wear to school. The nursery starts on Monday.  I’ll keep volunteering at the Children’s Society. That’s right. I’m volunteering BECAUSE THERE AIN’T NO FRIKKIN JOBS HERE!!! Can’t even get a job as a garbage collector.

I hate it here. What a nice place for visiting but sol for living. I am really having a hard time trying to stay positive, optimistic, and upbeat in this place.  But do I want to come home? Not really. Work on that one, bitches.

Later, @9pm: You see, I have a lot of latent anger. I think. I’m trying to be a parent and not some woman with a kid. This is hard, even with Dan parenting with me. It doesn’t help that there are daily minor irritations that build up and then there’s something that I see, read, or hear about some/anything. And I get frustrated and infuriated by everything.

I’m so tired of hope. I keep hoping that I’ll get it together, that something I do will turn into a job possibility. I keep hoping that I’ll make a friend here… One that calls me. But you’ve got to be around where adults are for that to be possible. So I keep hoping that the drama classes (ironic, yes but shuttup) starting later this month will be a place where I’ll meet some nice lady (don’t care how old) or ladies that I can meet up with for coffee. But I’m also aware that (maybe)  there won’t be anyone there who I can hang out with. So this is why I’m tired of hope. It is exhausting trying to keep them up when the return has been so relatively little.

No I don’t want to join a church. Been there, done that, got the souvenir T-shirt. I will (most likely) never do that again. So what have my ideas been other than the drama workshop/class? Well…

1. Belly Dancing Class

2. Yoga Class

3. Creative Writing

Drawback… These cost around $65-$70 for 10 weeks… each. And then what?

Ennui

Infuriation

Wishful Thinking

Retreat.

Someone once told me that I could possibly make a book out of this blog, or the experiences I have here…same diff. Who the hell would buy this crap. I’m under the impression that I can’t even use my normal vocabulary on this blog because of  who’s reading it. Are my ex-students reading this? Is my mom or m-i-l or dad? My grandmother reads it, and if I used curse words like shit in the normal course of a diatribe, most likely she’d roll her eyes, purse her mouth, and send me the mental vibe that there’s a better word to use, one that’s more ladylike. She’d be right of course. So if people aren’t reading it, then what makes you (whoever you were who first suggested it, I can’t be bothered with that detail…What? I’ve got a brain like a sieve sometimes) think that someone would pick it up off the Buy 2, Get the 3rd book free table at Border’s?

Alright. I’m not the best communicator in the world. I haven’t emailed each of you personally and I’ll be damned if I call each of you… so, so what? Some people are self-centered, get over it. But I’ve kept my end of the bargain… how about you keeping yours?

Are you still with me? Good. This is where I’m going to lose some friends now.

And I can’t do it. I really cannot bring myself to say what I really want to say. I hate this. I hate this about me.  I have no one I can yell at.

But I still love you. Even if you don’t comment. I still love you. I will continue to keep checking my phone’s Google email  alert each morning in case one of you says something to me.