you know what?

I am going to drop the F word in this blog. B/c I have been drinking and my inner voice is passionate about what it wants to say!

You know what?!

Fuck you!

Fuck you, all you bloggers who act like your life is so fucking perfect. And you're in love, or every dark cloud has a silver lining. Fuck you.

Seriously, is anyone really living like that? If you say yes, fuck you. Fuck the fuck out of you.

b/c you know what?!

I just called my husband. And he didn't answer the phone.

Now that can mean a few things.

It could mean that he is still pissed from some stupid little fight/misunderstanding we had last week, that I thought we were over. And if he is still pissed about that. Then Fuck You, Too. B/c seriously, don't get me started. You can't hold grudges in a marriage. You gotta allow me the fucking room to fucking fuck up sometimes. OK? B/c I am going to fuck up. And we are going to fight about it. And I am too fucking proud (you will interrupt here and say that is the problem) to back down from an argument or admit error. So, you should just let me be me and do me and not try to rub my face in shit. Seriously. B/c I am not the type of person to grovel or eat shit. I will be wrong, proudly, and say oh, fuck you, get over it but I'm not apologizing.

You know, now I am getting off track. But, you know. Hold on. (drinks wine). This shiraz is ok. This is new. I like shiraz. But where was I? Oh, yeah, don't fucking marry me and respect me as a woman and a human being and have 2 sons by me and THEN. and THEN. Fucking try to humble me and relegate me to some corner of your life. And make me a fixture. You know? B/c I am a fucking human being. And I want to go back to school so I can do humanitarian work. And you know that. So, don't put me in some paint by colors corner of your life and put me in this position where my greatest contribution to life is vacuuming a fucking carpet. B/c you know what, TJ, you know what? I can vacuum the shit out of a carpet. But, I have a fucking calling. And I want to do humanitarian work. So, let me have a fucking chance, ok?

I just proofread this and I don't even remember what I was going to get at anymore. But I got off point and I still think that was a good point.

Do you remember when I was flying out of Indianapolis, TJ? And I called you about that poem on the wall. I had tears in my eyes, did you know? b/c it reminded me so much of us. I don't cry that often, even in front of you, you who knows me very well. But the poem is on my blog here. The part that struck me so hard was about how the writer was saying I will bring you a whole person and you will bring me a whole person and we will have twice as much of love and everything. Then later in the poem it says, the writer say that although their heart they are bringing do have dents and scars, the other partner is bringing polish like he do intend to make it shine. And that reminded me so much of you. B/c you try to hard and put up with all my shit. You know , you take alot. I know I am a dramatic woman, at times. But you never give up, and you are always holding everything togethor when I get into my (occasional) rants and raves.

But then I called you to tell you how much the poem had touched me, and reminded me of us. But I kinda felt like you didn't get it. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know.

I guess, when I see you next time. We will try to sort it out.

Answer the fucking phone!