So I've been lying to you all! Yes that's right you voyeuristic bitches... But it's on now.. The train is barreling down the tracks at top speed and she can't be stopped.. Can you hear my whistle? Yep - I'm talking to you Mom, you "The Surge" and you Dad, who probably reads this shit every day but can't be arsed to call your own daughter for very silly, immature reasons. Let's see if we can make it to 2007 without speaking.. It'll be fun!
This is my journal.. and as such, I'm going to write the same shit I'd write in the journal I used to keep tucked securely under my bed. If you can't dig it, quit reading. As all who know me are aware, my vocabulary is comprised mainly of fuck, motherfucker, fuckhead and that ol' British fave, fuckwit. I am rapidly learning to enjoy a roll in the hay with cunt as well. Deal with it.
Was thinking today, as I often do, and I discovered I've been writing this blog for all the wrong reasons. That's just bullshit, isn't it? Toned down musings on sex, love and marriage sprinkled with stupid similes and metaphors, when what I really wanna do is throw a tantrum, scream and tear my hair out over whatever putrid bullshit I happen to be wading through.
Here's one: I've yet to wrap my very fucked up brain around the fact that I'm married. I will not go gently into that betrothed night because it still fucking freaks me out! I don't want to sit around in one of ten sweater sets and kaki's, ass digging a deeper groove in my Pottery Barn couch, shoveling Valium in my yawning maw faster than the baby dirties his diaper. I won't do it! And I won't romanticize the shit like a smug married either. "Marriage is so fulfilling dahling.. let me set you up with a dear acquaintance of mine.. You simply can't enjoy being alone." Cuz that's a load of crap too.
Nor do I want to be the main breadwinner while my husband follows his passion across the globe. So where does that leave me? When The Surge divorces me am I destined to be the crazy lady on the corner with all the dogs (fuck cats) shrieking at all the youngsters to stay off the goddamn lawn?
Was thinking the other day, as I'm prone to do, that the best way to have a kid is to get knocked up at about 23.. Rush headlong into that which society impreses on us is the proper route. No time to really consider all the havoc bringing a child into the world will wreak on my life. No time to wonder if I'm really prepared to be a proper mother. Now that I'm' older, have had time to contemplate the whole child raising affair I am absolutely terrified.. not that that's on the horizon, I'm just saying..
I got married quickly - afloat on love at first sight, moxie and heart. But, I didn't know the dude. Now I love him with all my heart, but it's been a fucking grapple. A motherfucker of a year. And still is. But just because a couple Marah fans read this shit, I ain't gonna continue to edit so's he comes off lookin' good. Sure I'm not gonna hang my dirty laundry, bloody crotch stains and all, out for the world to see.. but I'm gonna tell it like it is.
Here's why: I loathe people who pretend like they're the cleverest, most fantastic, put together of the bunch. Fuck you. Wait, let me say it again. FUCK YOU. All you do is twist your insecurity into some witty facade in an attempt to make the rest of us feel inferior in the shadow of your contrived magnificence.
I'm here to dispel whatever damn myth I can. For instance, I am still figuring out how to be married, it doesn't come naturally, trust me. You can love someone with every fucking fiber in your body and your union can dissolve faster than a sand castle at high tide.
Is this blog about The Surge? No. We're doing fine. Better than ever, in fact. I've just decided that I don't care whether you all lecture me for being THE GIRL WHO is sometimes jealous, insecure, contemplative, depressed and just plain stoned out of my gourd.
It's who I am.