New Story Idea:

I have been working on my book lately.  It's slow going, but I'm steadily make progress. My muse is a kinda a dick.  She often gives me great inspiration at the most inopportune time, or in the wrong direction. Suddenly I am inundated with all sorts of ideas, but none that fit into my current work. See? Dick!

She's in prime form today.  I been listening to a playlist that someone named Obsession/Possession, while doing my day job and suddenly, BAM! Idea!  The words came spilling forth, like I was channelling a spirit. I'm going to put this below, for you to preview. I have no idea where she's guiding me with this, which is often the case.  I also want to reiterate that the following is a character speaking and not my inner, rambling, dialogue.  I think this character is borderline sociopath, which, rest assured, I am not.

I created this blog to post my work, in it's different stages.  I have not done so to date. Please remember that this is not even first draft, but merely a genesis of a story.

Obsession starts small. You notice him at work, at a get together, or in school. Sometimes he's the barista at your favorite coffee shop, the neighbor boy, often he is a complete stranger you spotted on the bus. He's cute, or stunningly handsome. Sometimes it's not even about his looks, it's about his hands, or the timber of his voice...or even...his laugh. Before social media, you had to work to find out more about him. You made excuses to sit near him, never close, or with him, but near enough to overhear bits of information that you could put in that mental file cabinet, a little drawer that belonged to only him.

Like a social engineer, you have done your research to optimize success in constructing the best possible circumstances to eventually become part of his inner social circle. It's not even about sealing the deal romantically, although this option would not be rejected, but it's more about being close to him, becoming important to him. Close, but at a distance. Because too close can ruin the fantasy. That's what it is really about, the fantasy.

If you could have posters made up, you have him plastered all over your wall, like you would a favorite actor or singer. Instead, you have a scrapbook filled with photos, doodles with Mrs. and his last name, book ending your first name. You save napkins with silly drawings he made, the drink stirs from the first drink he bought you, a lock of his hair that you snagged after his last trim.

As you age, you add to your recon, it's no longer just the scrap book or souvenirs, but it's now a hidden file on your computer, filled with every possible piece of information you can gather on him. Every picture he has put up on social media. Pictures you creepily took while he was sleeping. You become an expert on him. You memorize every aspect about him, right down to the way his lip curves up on one side, in that slightly crooked smile that your find so damn endearing. You know him better than he knows himself.

You anticipate his needs and stealthy become someone he relies on, never realizing that he has been carefully maneuvered to do so. You become his best friend, his confident, his #1 cheerleader, his confessor, his safe place. And it's only after accomplishing this, that you finally feel secure. That is, until some other female becomes a perceived threat to your ranking in his life. It doesn't have to be a girlfriend, a lover, or his wife. It can be his mother, a sister, or a cousin. Sometimes, it's just another friend, male or female, it matters not. They've upset your applecart and then it all starts to unravel. Your insecurities start to show. You become jealous, petty, and desperate to re-establish the status quo. But this only shines a spotlight on the real freak within. The crazy one, the obsessive, the stalker and finally he sees past the mask, past the dog and pony show, to see the real you that that lies beneath, and disgusted, he leaves...

This has been my pattern. This is the only way I know to love. In my desperation to be important in someone's life, I construct artificial relationships, never allowing anyone to love the real me, only the manufactured me, the me that in the end, is always rejected. I want to change. I want to be loved. I just wish I knew how to stop. Is it even possible to stop this pattern now? Where do I even start? Do I even know who I really am anymore?  

Creepy, huh? I would like to think that this will be a story about redemption, but I go where the characters take me.  Who knows what path they may take me down.  Wish me luck.  And if I start to act kinda dark, remind me to sit under my phototherapy lamp.  That usually brings me back to my usual sunny self.  Namaste.

Reflection or Crazy Hormonal Bitch Session? You Choose!

So the the blog name is a little misleading, right? I bet if you have read any one of my blog !
postings, the biggest red flag is the considerable lack of sarcasm. This is what happens when you name your blog before you make life changes. Yanno, like you used to be an extremely sarcastic ass, who decided their life was for shit, so made some positive changes and started shitting glitter and rainbows. Yep, this is what has happened to me for the most part. Life was shit, I got a clue, I bitch slapped my inner whiner and "poof", like magic, my life greatly improved. Yay for Dinah for getting her shish together! *Shoots glitter, but no rainbows, I've been doing a cleanse.*

Ahhh, but here's the rub. That cynical, sarcastic bitch, as hard as I have tried to annihilate her, still resides deep inside.  She's not dead, just dormant.  She rears her amazingly petulant head when I have A: Had way too much to drink or B: When I'm hormonal. Seeing that I have not had any alcohol this week, I'm going to blame today on the hormones. Yes, let's!


Lumbersexuals.  People want the tag this as a trend, but in the PNW, it's just a way of life for some.  Guys here, for the most part, ARE outdoorsy.  They know they will inevitably get wet, so they don't put a lot of effort toward their look. Worn jeans, flannel shirts, work boots, seemingly ungroomed beard and Carhartt jacket make up their unofficial uniform.  For some reason, the rest of the country has latched on to this look. Why??!! It's a horrible look guys. It doesn't make you look rugged, or sexy.  It simply makes you look lazy, like you gave up and just hope fate throws a suitable mate into your pathway. People like to poke fun at me for my interest in Asian men, but I would like to point out that for the most part, they are wayyyy better dressed. And I'm not complaining about an occasional casual look. We do all that from time to time. Some days you just want to hang. On those days nothing more than jeans and a tee is required. This is acceptable when meeting for a quick coffee or perusing the bookstore. Meeting up for a musical, dressed like Paul Bunyan, it is not.

Remember how I said that for some, it's a way of life? Yeah, well for many of our rugged residents, dressing for dinner means putting on the blue flannel instead of the red one. This look exasperates me. I can't determine if you are decent looking or not, with all that fur on your face.  Lot's of guys expect us women to be waxed to the bare minimum, yet you show up looking like yetis and expect us to fall all over you.  I'm not shallow, but if you insist on wearing your ball cap low on your brow and  support an impressive mountain man beard, you are giving me about as much visual information to go on, as if you wore a bag over your head.  At least with the bag, I wouldn't keep fixating on the hairs that keep curling into your mouth, every time you take a drink of your beer. All I'm saying is I make an effort, why can't you?

Netizens. Oh you throngs of keyboard clicking waste of humans. And no, I'm not pointing this toward the normal citizens of the Internet,  who go about their daily lives exploring websites, reading, watching and absorbing content, while engaging in thoughtful discourse and debate. I'm talking about the bottom feeders of the net, that have such ineffectual lives that they focus their inner self loathing toward others, who are actually doing something with theirs. They work hard to discredit and abuse those they sometimes claim to admire. Why do you feel the need to infect the web with your poison words? You troll a pretty, yet over weight girl who posts pictures of herself in the prom dress she is trying to sell. You attack and sometimes 'de-friend' people who are supposedly your 'friends' on Facebook, because they dare to have beliefs different than yours. Your idol starts to date, or *gasp* actually shows a human side and you start a verbose attack on their fan pages, going beyond expressing your disappointment, but aiming for the jugular, often times with crazy town threats and wild fantasy driven accusations.  For the love of *insert deity of your choice here*, please get a grip and channel that passion into something positive. Fight against your primitive impulse to eat, fuck, shit and kill.  Join the human race, why doncha?  You might actually find yourself living a happier, fulfilling life. 

Life Style Mockers.  So you're not into CrossFit.  You can't imagine why girls want to have well defined muscles and gladiator like strength.  The fact she has better muscle tone and stamina than you do, does not make her mannish.  She is not less feminine because she does not fit your personal preference.  Stop telling her that others will find her less desirable and trying to discourage her from a course that has improved her self esteem, her health, and given her a new positive view of life.  Her life choice is not an insult or a threat to you. So why do you feel the need to constantly tell her how she makes YOU feel?  If you feel less of a man around her, then that is your problem, not hers. 

You can't imagine never not eating meat again.  You find dietary restrictions annoying and stupid.  That's you dude.  Get over it.  Would you mock a diabetic for avoiding sugar? Tease someone with Crones Disease for eliminating gluten? Why are you bugging if someone decides this is the course they wish to take? Look at it this way, more steak for you! 

But on the other hand, if the thought of eating an animal byproduct repulses you and you feel the need to protect all the creatures, big and small, don't try to guilt me because I need a burger occasionally or have a strong craving for hot wings. We can co-exist, I swear! I will take a bullet for you and eat all of that offending meat, if you promise to keep me in steady supply of yummy vegan dishes that I also crave habitually. 

Rude/Inconsiderate People: Common courtesy and general etiquette seem to be dying.  I do recognize that some of my gripe is due to regional differences. I think southern people are just more courteous in general, but it's dying a slow death there too.  I recently saw a woman struggling to push a heavy shopping cart with a toddler in it and holding onto a six year old boy.  The boy apparently wanted something she had in her purse so he made a grab for it and all the contents went flying down the aisle.  The mother exclaimed in horror, the toddler started howling, the six year, now loose, started to do the naughty stuff six year old boys will do, like climb on the shelves.  The mother was trying to give each situation her attention, all at once, despite her obvious distress, the crappy thing is her belongings were being ( I kid you not) kicked aside or run over by other shoppers.  I had to restrain myself from yelling at those A-holes.  I was a bit away, but I hurried down the aisle, halted the other rude shoppers, told the mom to grab the errant boy and picked up her stuff to put back into her purse. The other shoppers could have just turned around and gone the other way or even lent a hand, but they were just pissed that their path was impeded and took the opportunity to voice their displeasure. I did tell them I thought they were jackasses and hoped they never needed help in public, because, yanno, karma. 

Have the general public just lost all compassion? Is it that hard to help a person in need? Open a door for someone encumbered with an arm full?  If you are my cashier, a hello or how are you today, is appreciated. I often beat them to it, but I have had several cashiers just grunt at me. Grunt!!! I also recently saw a short woman reaching for something on a shelf that was just out of reach, only to have a man reach over her and grab the item and walk off.  I am also short, so the struggle is real.  I have had people help me out from time to time and it was greatly appreciated. This guy was beyond jerk. Luckily a taller woman came behind him and helped the woman out. 

Please, thank you, excuse me. These should be as automatic as breathing. Give your seat to someone that needs it more. It's a no brainer really.  Why are social niceities becoming a thing of the past? Don't let it guys, or we become little better than the beasts we pride ourselves in being better than. 

Okay, rant over. I think now that I have vented, I can be my normal, smiley, happy self again. Find your bliss. Claim your happiness. Shoot glitter and rainbows out of your asses, because life is really too short to dwell upon all the crappy, annoying things in this world. Namaste. 











  

I Guess I'm Not That Southern After All

If you've never seen these series of videos, Shit Southern Women Say, you really should check them out. They can found on Youtube.  They are funny, sometimes a little over the top, but often hits the nail on the head of how a lot of southern women think/act.  The video below is Shit Southern Women Never Say. As a southern woman, now living in the PNW, I was surprised how many of points made in this video did not fit me, even before I moved away from Arkansas.







Let's go over the statements made in this video and see how I rate:

1. How are you guys doing?  In college I made a conscious decision to stop saying ya'll. 
2. You want some unsweetened tea?  As someone who has had to watch my weight for years, sweet tea isn't offered in my house. But I do offer it with monk fruit sweetener!
3. I'm not gonna serve dessert.  If I'm serving dinner for guest, there will always be some sort of dessert option. Sometimes two!
4. Go light on the mayonnaise hun. Again, weight issue, light on mayo in this house.
5. Hairspray is gross. As a teenager, this would never have crossed my lips, but I love not having to use it much now. Still, good hair product is a necessity! 
6. Why would you want to be a cheerleader? I never understood the appeal of the cheerleader. Sure I did cheers with my female friends when I was little. I wanted to play with them and that's what they played. I did split jumps and herkies,  but I would have rather been playing football. 
7. I regret being in a sorority. No way would I have ever been in a sorority.  Too many rules!
8. I'm just going to go without makeup. Up until age 30, this might have been true. Now I go without it often and have no issues with it. 
9. I despise tailgating. It can be fun in small doses. 
10. I don't really care about football. I used to only like college ball, but the Seahawks changed that.
11. I'm not riding in that truck. I have uttered these words when: A: Truck was too tall and I had on long skirt. B: When inside of truck was dirty. C: When I thought it would die before we got out of the driveway.
12. I'm not peeing in the woods. If I gotta go and there are no other options, yes, I will pee in the woods. 
13. I'm not drinking beer out of a can. I don't drink beer much, but drinking out of can would not be the issue here. 
14. We don't have any crazy people in our family. Bwhahahahahhaha! 
15. Oh I haven't seen this episode of Designing Women.  I've watched every episode multiple times.
16. Less is more. An acquired skill in the last few years. 
17. I'm not wasting my money on a manicure.  I have said this, but I would never pass up a pedicure. ;)
18. I'm not gonna buy a new Easter dress. Not religious, so this would never be an issue. 
19. I love tofu. I don't LOVE it, but I don't mind it.
20. I love hockey. Been a big hockey fan since 1988. Go Blues!
21. I hate Dolly Parton. She's alright. 
22. Pageants are stupid.  I never saw the point to them, but I have helped my Bestie get ready for a few.
23. I thought Graceland was tacky. I did think it was tacky, but also awesome!
24. I've never been in a parade.  Too many to count.
25. I've never read the bible.  Come from a uber religious family. It was the law to read the bible.
26. Thank god my children are gay.  As someone with many LGBT friends, I was careful to make sure my son knew early on, that if he were to be gay (he's not), it would make no difference.  I have many southern friends that have LGBT children and I don't think a single one handled their coming out, with anything less than love and support. 
27. We don't keep guns in this house. I don't have guns in my house, but I have had them in the past and don't have an issue with it, if they are locked up properly. Most of my family in Arkansas and Washington have concealed carry permits. (I have no need for one.)
28. I wish I could write in cursive.  Cursive is my preferred style of writing. 
29. Don't feed that to the dog.  If it's good leftovers, you better not feed that to the dog.
30. Let's go to Canada.  I wanted to go to Canada wayyy before I visited/lived in Washington State.
31. Let's go to the New York Yankee Museum.  Not a baseball fan, but wouldn't be opposed to going.
32. Let's go to the Jersey shore. Not going to plan a trip, but if we are close, sure why not?
33. I drive good in the snow.  Drive in the snow, yes. On the ice, no. There is a big difference.
34. Now what does Carrie Underwood sing. I don't think I can name a single song of hers.
35. I'm not subjecting my child to vacation bible school. I did give the option for my son to go to vacation bible school.  I have fond memories of it. 
36. I don't tithe to the church. Don't go to church. Would rather give money to charity. 
37. I don't care what the preacher thinks. I quit thinking about what the preacher thought at age 15. 
38. Don't call me Ma'am. It's southern thing. Ma'am, Sir.  I don't see the problem with it.
39. I can open my own door. Not opposed to chivalry, but I'm just a liable to open the door for you, if I'm there first. 
40. I'm not going to bother to RSVP.  I try, but I'm guilty of not doing it.
41. You can totally wear red to a wedding. Never upstage the bride!
42. You need to marry a nice Jewish boy. I never suggest people find mates due to religious preferences. 
43. I'm thinking about getting a smart car. I wanted one soooo bad when I lived in Arkansas!
44. I'm finished decorating my house. This is not so important, now that I have downsized to 550 square feet.
45. I have no desire to go to the Kentucky Derby. I'd go, at least once.
46. Hats are tacky. I love me some hats!
47. I wouldn't be caught dead in searsucker. Searsucker can be cute.
48. They ain't got shit up at Wal-Mart. I don't think I've ever said this exact phrase, but I have said "They don't have the shit I need at Wal-Mart."  I tend to purchase a bunch of speciality items.
49. Can you teach me how to make a casserole? I taught myself to cook at age 9 and I think one of my first dishes was a casserole.
50. Don't fry that. Again the weight thing. I rarely fry anything, but bacon.
51. I hate Ranch dressing. I prefer a vinaigrette, but a really good house Ranch dressing is nice. But if it's with hotwings, I'm a Blue Cheese kinda girl. 
52. I overcooked the greens. Is there such thing as overcooked greens?
53. I hate funeral food. I hate funerals, but the only thing that makes it tolerable is the food. 
54. Tastes just as good, without the butter. I'd rather have the butter. Even if it was just a little smear.
55. Pearls are out of style. Pearls NEVER go out of style 
56. My best color is black. Black IS my best color. It's slimming. 
57. Nobody's gonna notice that run in your stockings. Rarely wear stockings. Do tights count? Wait, that's usually snags or a hole. 
58. Who's Emily Post? I try to adhere to good etiquette, but I have a rebellious streak...and I'm kinda lazy. 
59. My mama could have cared less if I was a debutante.  She really could have cared less. 
60. My husband's always right. Ummm....bwahahahahahahaha!
61. I wish it was more humid. Blasphemy! One of the reasons I moved to the PNW, was to get away from the heat and humidity!
62. I hate wicker. I actually have a love hate relationship with wicker. I love it on porches, hate in in a house. 
63. Duct tape won't fix this. Has this ever been said???!!!
64. It won't matter if we skip church. See question 18.

So I only agreed with 32 of the above statements. That makes me half southern? Sounds about right. I still have very southern roots. There are things ingrained in me, like you always offer drink or food to a guest, even if they are just stopping by for a minute. BBQ comes with slaw on it! Hot sauce is as common a condiment as ketchup. It really does go on everything. Sir and Ma'am slip out as naturally as I breath. You give up your chair to elderly, handicapped or pregnant period!

However, I don't like country music much and I can't stand catfish or grits. You won't see me laying out in the sun.  I'm not big on fishing and Nascar bores me. I'm tattooed, pierced, with blue and purple streaks in my hair, and I lean toward Buddhist and Hindi teachings. My comfort food is Indian, I'm attracted to Asian men and I'm all for gay marriage. So yep, I'm an odd mix of Southerner and Other. Does that make me Southern lite?  I think I like that tag. Namaste!