Comfortable Shoes-- Murder and the Gecko

I committed murder, well more like an accomplice. What's worse is there's no way knowing if the little guy is actually dead. Which is more disturbing than the act of murder.  It started one innocentwhen I was readying myself for a shower  and turning on the water. I noticed unusual movement at the back of the tub. Not being able to actually see I grab my glasses and look again hoping its a bug I could easily manage to dispose of. It turns out to be a tiny little gecko. What the fuck? How do I get rid of this guy while in nothing but a towel. Cause everyone knows you are more vunerable when you're naked. I thought I could force the bugger back down the drain using the showerhead  hose. I could only manage to get the guy swirling in a whirlpool around the drain. Thinking he has drowned I would change the water pressure to finish him off, he scurry to dryer land and security causing me to restart the death ride by whirlpool. Never being successful of getting him down the drain I gave up. I just wanted to go to bed, though desperately needing a bath of some kind, I agree upon some kind of quasi sponge bath. Always keeping a watchful eye on the tub. Hoping he'll get a clue and go back  where he came from. I go to bed hoping to not see him again.

My dreams not coming true. I try a killer for hire, grabbing my cat I try to get her to notice the tasty morsel of fun in the tub. Without success, I free her from  her binding contract and get ready for work. Hoping this mofo well be gone so I can have a proper shower tonight is all I think about all day at work. Leaving the shower curtain pried open if PJ decides to finish him. Thinking maybe maybe I'll get a broom and sweep him out the tub if he's still there. Instead of death by drowning or cat.

I come home check the tub. I don't see him.  I move the curtain no sign of him. Oh he gone he's gone! Just to make sure I ask my mom if she new how the gecko was disposed of. She doesn't know, but to make sure he doesn't come back I should place the plug over the drain so he won't make his way back. Brilliant idea.

I go to place the plug and there nestled in the grove of the drain, Mr Gecko. I thought about letting the heavy stainless steel crush him, but thought the mess it would make and how much harder it would be to easily dispose his lifeless body down the drain. This would need more consultation with my mom. I alert that the gecko is still lingering around in the tub. She enters the bathroom for further inspection. She asked if I tried hosing him down the drain. I said yes but I would get him to swirl around in the drain and not down it. She grabs the showerhead puts it on full force and the water as hot as possible. Since He's already in the drain he only has one place to go further down after a min or two removing the spraying water he finally never resurfaced. Now maybe maybe he just went safely down further in the drain. Out of personal experience it's seems really hard to drown a gecko. We might not be gecko killers. My mom to make sure hes gone tells me to go grab the oven cleaner. My question is will oven cleaner do him in or disfigure it and make it angry. I want him to leave the premises and death by oven cleaner seems like a cruel way to go. I have no reason to object and do as she said.

Now that the drain has been doused in oven cleaner I'm suppose to feel safe. He's never coming back. My showers can be blissful again. Ohh no my overly imagative weary mind is thinking about this half burnt mutant gecko now doing chin ups on a roof pipe hellbent on getting revenge. I've been remembering to cover the drain after every shower just in case he trys to make his comeback. Then one day upon close inspection. I noticed that the drain was slightly askew, could it be that Mr. Gecko was indeed not dead and ploting his revenge. Anxiously I take my shower, but then I see a wierd residue in the drain water. I think what if he's really dead and that's the gases from his decompising body in my drain. And then my last thought was, is there a liquid drano for this.

Lunch Breaks

So it's starts with a very brisk 5 minute walk for a quarter of a mile to the sandwich shop. A 6 minute wait in line and order, cause I was unfortunate and got the early lunch. Another 3 min even brisker walk back. Sit at the bench at the reflecting pools and eat sandwich for 6 minutes. One minute to clean up. 2 minutes to walk back and put up the other half of uneaten sandwich. Because you can't eat a whole sandwich in 6 minutes, it's a feat even I can't defy.  I then finally get to pee for 4 minutes and back up the stairs and at post in one minute with a minute to spare. I even managed to do all this without passing out. How is your lunch break at your day to day grind? Tell me in the comments below.

Late Bloomers are Always in a Pickle

It's like a 10 years non existence of nothing. However yet I still find myself pining after you and contemplating if there is actually something there. As much as I don't want to, as much as I know it's not worth it, as much as I know it be better for me if I just forget you, as much as I tell myself to just stop, I don't. I will waver back and forth and you always win. I guess the heart is a persnickety creature. Or is it, that stupid 90's thing of wanting closure. Because sometimes it feels it was all in my head or was there some flirting in the beginning, then as always my timing is off and even though I might have been somewhat obsessively pushy. I always feel if all else fails be obsessively pushy, that'll seal the deal, not. It's not entirely my fault, with all do respect he was a such an ass about it. Shouldn't that be enough to forget it and move on, why am I trying to hold on to nothing, get back nothing., going back and forth of wanting to knee him in the teeth to then forgive and let be. Now four years later I'm chasing him down at shows. Cause of course he would be in band and be a drummer. What am I thinking? It is possible I just like hating myself feeling like some deranged groupie. Which by the way, no matter how I'll try to explain or get my point across I'll be that crazy girl. My first show in a while I couldn't say anything. I did want to enjoy myself, I thought being silent and adverting eyes was the best way to come off as cold and dead inside. When I left there alone, thinking I blew it.. I shouldn't have been a bitch. See what happens when a I'm bitch, I feel guilty it about always, later. And of course because I blew it last time, I don't even get a second time to at least try to mend things at the next show.

 Here I am with no closure and no way of making amends to the past. I could get another chance but lets face it, I had my second chance and there's no getting it back. I could wait around for another, but what for, I'm only the one who puts out the effort, who puts myself out on the line for what? Another humiliation. The easiest way to work a guy out of my system, kiss him, fuck him, be absolutely disgusted by him. So how do you work yourself out from under a man and move on, when you never where exactly underneath him. Hmmm, and its not like I'm not eyeing other people, but I seem to be in this vortex where I can't get a date, let alone a boyfriend to save my life. A welcomed distraction of my time would be nice and yes I have my art and maybe my I'm going to die an old maid so why even bother, but that boy sure is cute isn't getting me anywhere, maybe something that's a more proactive pursuit. I could also look at my possibilities which is another drummer, which come on have I not learned my lesson already or the guy I occasionally fuck. Which NO, I should never, why ruin a good thing just to get over some other guy. I have picked up every known craft a spinster could have(and by every known, I mean sewing and knitting), unless I want to start making things out of cat hair, something has got to change. So as you can see I do have my pickle in quite the jam. Either I become my next work in progress. Or have this slight obsession of trying to mend something that is beyond repair. Lets not talk about how dangerously close I am to emailing him again which is kinda how I found myself in this mess to begin with. OK, so obsessing about me it is.

Measurement Of Beauty

On the rare occasion that I visit my twitter page, I see this tweet posted in my stream linking interesting facts about Marilyn Monroe. I wanted to read the article and maybe learn something new about Ms. Monroe that I hadn't before. I bookmarked it for a later read. It turned out that the main part of the article was about her weight and that the most interesting unknown facts, for me at least, where the bottom bulletin points. At first I brushed the article off a bit peeved. Then the article really got to me. Does there really need to be another article stating that in fact Marilyn was very petite according to her measurements and dress size, despite rumors being of a much larger size. I won't mention the measurement and guessed dress size. I won't play into numbers game, I don't find it necessary, as I find them to be irreverent to what I want to talk about.

I was disappointed that yet again a common misconception about a past starlet would be her weight. Disappointed even more that one of my favorite burlesque stars would be the one to tweet about said confirmation, that in fact Marilyn did have a body unattainable by most humans. I guess I can't be totally shocked as when she was in town, they're weren't any black burlesque dancers in the show. Correction she didn't have any in her last strip strip hooray but the current tour there was one.That is however a topic for another day. I don't want to talk about why she would post about this article, but about what this article is quietly saying and what she is quietly agreeing to consciously and unconsciously.

I will start by saying beauty has nothing to do with a waistline. It comes in all colors, shapes and sizes. It is not only appearance but character and how you carry yourself. You will never see a now you know article on the size of Cary Grant's pants. You will never here another male actor exclaim "As handsome as Grant was I would kill myself if I was ever his size". So let me plunge that knife slowly for you Ms. Elizabeth Hurley because according to the article you are a bit gorda in the waistline. If we were to take what Elizabeth Hurley said about Marilyn's body and that she in fact did say those words and since the article then goes to compare Marilyn's body to yours and since besides height you're basically the same and since you think being that size is so unforgivable. Yes, please kill yourself. We are then to believe that despite being adored by millions still and having a presence on camera that no other actress has been able to duplicate, we must have her beauty measured and pinned down to a dress size, holding to the ideal of certain measurements is the definition of beauty. And if you can't obtain it then you are not beautiful.

I found this quote from Marilyn. Who says "Big breast, big ass, big deal. Can't I be anything else? Gee, how long can you be sexy?".  Why is it that girls feel pressured to be pretty, sexy, or desirable? To obtain the unattainable? Because society burdens them to do so. Other than this article there are countless magazine's, online catalogs, and media, that have gone beyond air brushing into digitally altering bodies to resemble some type of subhuman of beauty that even the model isn't able to achieve without the help of a computer.

So we should be outraged that we are marketed to always have flawless skin, to never age, and be allowed to have a size 2 body six weeks after giving birth. We should be outraged that we are mostly shown as an object to have, that it's usually sex as a way to get noticed. To be outraged that to be shown as a woman of power comes with being stigmatized. Instead we should demand more real beauty be shown, If we demanded more real varying representation of women are shown, if we demanded that we not always be shown overly sexual and more than just body. Then maybe our girls won't be overly concerned about their waist lines, if there breast size is big enough. Maybe they wouldn't be concerned about if they are sexy enough for a boy. If we demanded to be seen more equal among men, then we can be more outraged of the selling of girls around the world. We would be more outraged of our girls being denied an education in other countries. Then we could be more outraged of the raping  and domestic violence against our sisters who never get their justice. 

Please don't get me misunderstood there is nothing wrong with a girl being pretty or wanting to beautiful or being sexual. To putting on a lipstick and wearing a dress. It is ok doing what makes you feel confident, beautiful, and strong, but do know that just because you don't have a waist line like Jennifer Aniston you are any less beautiful. If you don't have a waif like body like Kate Moss or full figure like Sofia Vergara, marvel at the fact that your body allows you to climb stairs everyday, or you can run 5 miles, that you are able to write, knit, create music, or change a tire. All I'm saying is there are countless and boundless ways to measure beauty. And unlike this article it has to do less with numbers or what you find in a fashion magazine. There is more to being a pretty face. There are so much more things that matter then the size of you're waist. Marilyn realized that and so should you.

“To all the girls that think you’re fat because you’re not a size zero, you’re the beautiful one, its society who’s ugly.”

Marilyn Monroe

Common misconception about Marilyn Monroe: http://t.co/K40DL0Erp8
— Dita Von Teese (@DitaVonTeese) December 27, 2013

OK so now I can get off my soap box for now and will continue with my regular programming.

Love Blah

The past-time of looking up ex's and stalking them on social media was talked about at work. Though at the moment it seemed painfully clear, just don't. I was smart enough to bite my tongue remembering, it isn't an easy temptation to avoid. Secretly I held my head high and thought to myself, thank God I don't have an ex I feel compelled to stalk on the internet. Mostly because for years no one has wanted me or as of late I have been compelled to live a spinsters life. Then I get home and think to myself , who, who from my dating past would I want to look up? Oh stop living in denial, just three weeks ago you were looking up J for an email address and a few days ago I wanted to know how Loser B turned out. But I have been a very good little girl and it's been years since I've looked up E, which had in the past become a borderline obsession, but what about Bastard the third? I have mildly stalked, nothing over the top though. Phew, I'm normal and no longer need to dwell on the subject.

And like a true insomniac moments after my head hitting the pillow in protest to sleep. I pop up grab my kindle and feverishly I start looking up J and then I move onto E and no need to look up B as days ago I found, he actually got his shit together. He is now responsible for a tiny human and learned how to run a comb through his hair, Oh! and is that button up collard shirt underneath a sweater? Cheers mate, can't be mad at ya. At the end of my "research" the closure I was so seeking and needing, I finally got. It would be unorthodox to use people smart, people search, intelius... etc to get rid of you're issues. It probably isn't for everyone, but it's a lot cheaper than a therapist. I have finally exorcised the boyfriends of Andria's past. You know the nagging part of me that thought every waking day they thought about me and the missed opportunity of ever having a girl like me. Well turns out I am as forgettable as I seem and there's a reason why things don't work out. Lesson learned never chase anything that was never meant to be. Never dream a failed never to exists love will magically come to be. That shit only exist in movies.

During my research I found out whatever they wanted from a significant other they wouldn't find in me. I'm not the white picket fence child bearing type. I like my freedom, my whelm to do whatever I want. To not express concern to things I don't care about or to fell the need to have all of my waking days filled with only one certain person. I want to go out and party with just my friends or meet new people and not have to answer to someone. To sleep past noon. I like to be concerned about what im wearing. To spend my money irresponsibly on skinny jeans, not ill-fitted mom jeans. Hey, if that's you're cup of tea that's you're cup tea and congrats in finding it. I am a irresponsible responsible adult and I don't find myself changing that anytime soon. As I have found what I actually want to do and get from my life I have come to realize what I want from a boyfriend isn't from the past, thank god! In my heart of hearts I will believe there is someone in the future for me, as peculiar and particular as I am eventually I will be with the one I'm suppose to be with, possibly...maybe

This is my issh

How does one share their personal life. I think it's worth mentioning in this blog, it is practically about my life. Why not share my abilities at missing signals, misinterpeting signals that were never there and always late realizing that there were signals? So here is a brief history of my non - existent love life.

The difficulties with men started probably in elementry school  with a boy, color scented markers, and a flying paper airplane, but who has that kind of time to go back that far. Lets leave that to a pyschiatrist. The past decade, lets start there. It makes for sweet short story of complications and the major slump I can't seem to get myself out of.

A thing to know about me I like to feel guarded at all times. I never fully let my true emotions show. You should always just bury certain feelings really deep down under the surface. And you stuff it down deep hoping he'll make the first move. When that doesn't happen you  reveal those feelings at the most critical of times so that you look like a complete crazy stalking fool. I can't seem to bring my tortured feelings up for a guy unless he finally moves thousands of miles away or he has given up and moved on to find him a normal girl. On a night many years ago, after not being able to sleep I muster up a sleep deprived courage to send one gruesome pathetic email to... let's call him Dr. C. I knew after hitting send the feelings wouldn't be mutual. I think it was about expelling the truth so that I could move on. I could have cared less what his feelings were. I did it I can move on. So I thought then I get the responding email. The only clear part is he had a girlfriend at the time.

So that's that, we're just friends, cool? right? However my little brain can't leave it at that. It was how it was said and the winking smiley face. My little brain eventually managed to move on or can I say back to his friend a former bandmate and that turned about to be a crackhouse mess of a decision. In the end he put it like this " I have two jobs and a girlfriend I barely even have time for my friends." Bam, not even considered a friend. In hindsight I might have been a bit of a phone stalkerish and didn't handle the non friend gesture politely. I did however try to see if maybe we could mend and truly be friends and as of that how things are now is all on him. It seems that is impossible gesture for him to even respond to leaving me slightly angry with bitter resentment and I might have carried that hatred and resentment of him (Mr. Prick) on Dr C who didn't do anything to deserve that. Currently I hate on Mr Prick mostly ignore Dr. C and on ocasion I get it on with ever faithful Loyal D. For the most part everything is perfect, except that I'm bored. It's not happily ever after or perfect, but it works. Sure I would like a boyfriend. I don't make a great of girlfriend. Then Dr. C goes and do this:

Made me smile...hope all is
attached :
 

 What? no why? he still has the framed anatomy page I gave him from years ago. What does this mean, yes he recently graduated and maybe it's a hey thanks for the encouragement I did it, but when in our brief history has he ever sent a quick message on his on recognizance? Never.. ok maybe one time a Birthday e-card, so it could probably mean nothing. It's usually me that initates the contact and half the time I don't get a response. And of course there was a winky face making it's appearance in the subject line. If it's strictly platonic keep the winky faces at a minum of none. Because otherwise you're flirting or you'll become that creepy old guy that winks at every girl. Weeks later I've decided it meant nothing. However fool me once yada yada. I'm not falling for it anymore. Love ya, wish him the best, but a girls gotta move on. This year I won't be a spaz and try not to fall into my ruiner of love ways. I could even not be guarded and be true with my feelings with friends, family and loved ones. Maybe I really do want a real true actual boyfriend , well see how it goes.

People Are Strange

I usually don't talk to a lot of people at my paper pushing job. Partly because deep down inside I don't like people, partly I don't want to talk to half the people I work with, partly I could careless if I'm talking to people and having to listen to what they have to say. However I get to observe people while  at work.

And there is just this one motherfucker, that all I can say is, what is the deal, is this working for you? First I'm apparently older than this guy yet he looks way older than I am. It doesn't help either that he acts like most of my Dad's older male cousins that I remember when I was younger. I know most people don't look as young as I do for my age and even someone  younger can look older than me. I get it, it's mostly good genes. I like to think that I kind of do some work to keep myself healthy and not rapidly aging so fast. Truth is, it's easy to look young when you're not a chain smoker and can limit your alcohol intake. Yet this dude wears clothes three times his size. Which could be easy since I think he barely weighs 100 pounds and he's not even my height. Then the do rag he has to wear until he gets into work, only because it isn't permitted, otherwise I think he would wear that ridiculous thing all day 24/7. The other day I caught him wearing his pants almost by his ankles and the only reason he got away with it is because he had that long undershirt tucked in, you know so not as to disrespectfully show of his underwear to the world and then a longer shirt over that. He may not be as old as me, but he's still in his 30's. Clearly by the way he's dressed he is quite the gentleman. If that means every night at the end of the shift he tries to cut inline so that he can quickly go outside to wait for his ride to pick him up. Then yes, a gentleman indeed.

It wouldn't be surprising to know that he has mostly annoyed the women here and who only interact with for entertainment purposes or they are at that same level. And I'm really open to different styles that people express themselves with. 

I just don't understand how people get stuck and dress as the would at high school and never move on to a more sophisticated age appropriate dress. Cause there's nothing that makes you more dated and aged then to just keep on being who you are in high school. There's a part of ourselves that tend to evolve or strive for maturity as we learn life's lessons. Oh well all I can say is . . .