Dig me out.

I know it's the oldest cliche to complain about winter in Minnesota, but I feel my whining is warranted given the freakish circumstance.  Today is April 22, 2013 in Minneapolis, MN and we are to expect a winter storm      to bring us 6-8 inches of snow.  About a week ago we had received another 6 inches.  I've seen the sun for a total of 24 minutes in the last 2 months.
 I feel my body getting weaker, I'm craving sunlight and I feel absolutely defeated.  My moods and emotions are vanquished to the point that trying to make my face smile feels like rusty gears turning in my cheeks only to seize up midway.   I am, in so many ways, frozen.

Anybody who wants to challenge that Seasonal Affective Disorder isn't real is my enemy.  If I don't sit under my full spectrum light for at least an hour a day, or miss a med dose, I am more of a wreck than whats sitting before you now.  And I am a sunken ship.  

Between my S.A.D., my desperate longing for sleep and my already present mental instability, I really have no idea how I am able to survive , let alone function everyday.  I guess it's autopilot.  I'm present but not with it.  My actions are emotionless and my emotions are forced.  At the news of last weeks winter storm, I was able to cry and express my frustration and disappointment.  I still had a whisper of feeling.  At the news of today's storm, I went numb.  I could tell that my brain wanted to react and it seemed that my body was looking to it's brain to know how to emote but we couldn't pull it together.  I was drained empty all gone no more to give.  Lackadaisical.  That's a great word.  That's the word for me.  I am lackadaisical.

My genes gave me mental illness.
My job gave me a sleep disorder.
My hometown gave me a mood disorder.

Well, would you look at that?  It almost looks like I can say "See? It's not my fault!"  There are reasons that I am the empty shell left forgotten by it's molting insect.  Just a cast of the girl I used to be.  I would love so much if every few months I could shed off the old, worn out me, and start over new and fresh.  I'd even happily settle for a reset button.

My train of thought is totally lost from falling asleep at the computer for an hour just now.  I guess the only thing for me to do is finish this little nap and dream of long luxurious sleep in my favorite lawn chair on the beach under the hot hot sun for hours and hours.  I would pay to have that back.  I would pay big.

so many jammies and so little sleep.

 

*A belt is not a leash.

It's (kinda, barely) spring in Minneapolis, and the warmer it gets here, especially in the Downtown, Uptown, and South Minneapolis areas, the more we are going to see traveling punks.  Train hoppers, crustys, wanderers, hitchhiking artists, bands, whatever.  Minneapolis has an amazing indie/underground music scene that attracts all sorts of people in the warm seasons, which is great, except for one thing that bothers me greatly; they drag along dogs.

Year after year I see traveling punks on the side of the road flying their signs asking for spare change for the bus, food, a ride, or beer,and along side them lots of times is a sad, dirty, nervous dog with a rope or a belt for a collar/leash.  I understand that you like a companion when traveling across the country in alternative ways, but it's cruel and very very selfish.  Many times I hear these people defend that their dogs come first and eat better than they do, and as much as they want to believe that they are doing right by the dog, it's just not true.

I have been a wild wandering child of punk rock for most of my life and I have seen and done it all.  I've hopped the trains, got lost on the other side of the country, and have been in the company of these people and their dogs.  I kid you not, every single alternative traveling dog I have ever met was a biter.  I'm sure it can't be true for all of them, but it was for the ones Ive been around.  If approached by a stranger, or startled, they will bite.  Hackles go up, teeth bared, you may or may not get a warning growl, but you will get bit.

It's not because they are bad dogs, it may not even be from a bad owner, but it is definitely from bad environment.  These traveling dogs have NO structure.  They have no homes.  They do not know where they will be from hour to hour, and certainly have no idea when or where their next meal will come from.  Even wolves have structure within their packs.   Wolves make a den and go to it every night.  Even if wolves don't eat for 3 days, they know where they will get food.  They KNOW they will kill an animal and they will eat it. They know who is in their pack, where their den is, and how they will eat.
These traveling dogs don't know it their person will provide them a can of dog food, or if they will be eating out of a McDonald's dumpster.  They don't know when they will get the basic need of water.  There is no structure to that lifestyle and it destroys a dogs confidence and makes them feel unsafe.  You are putting a dog in a position where they have to rely on someone they cannot trust.  They may like their person, but they can't trust that their needs will be provided them or that they will be safe.

Here is where I want to come in.  I've wanted to start a rescue organizations of sorts for many years now, and when the time is right in my life, I would like to start with these travellers dogs.  These travellers rely a lot on barter/trade/kindness of strangers lifestyle a lot of time.  I would like to educate these people on how what they are doing to their dogs is very selfish and damaging and only creating  unhappy and unstable dogs.  I'd like to be able to give them cash, or gift cards or food, etc in exchange for finding their dogs loving forever homes.

I think this just may be a Kickstarter project for after I get back in school and get as much behavior knowledge as possible since the dogs I want to rescue will be coming from instability and who knows how they will react to what.
 I'm getting excited that when the time is right this could be a possibility and that I have an amazing and supportive animal loving husband that will help and be at my side through it all.  I can't wait to educate and advocate for these dogs and change the way these punks go on their adventures. To have the decency and selflessness to leave the pups at a stable home.

Until then, I will continue to keep dog food in my car, and when I see these pairs on the side of the road, the human won't get my change, cuz who knows where it will go, but at least the dog can eat.





*this entry was very difficult for me to keep at a reasonable length.  I can go on and on for pages and days on this topic.  If you are interested in learning more, please ask me.

33

It was pointed out to me that my birthday is in less than a month.  It's not even on my radar, it still feels like it's many months from now.  So far this one doesn't have any beginnings of a depressing vibe, so I think I'll have a little fun with it.  There is really nothing that I need, I have my amazing husband who makes me crazy happy, my naughty kitty and greedy doggy, and a great family that all have been really wonderful to me.  I'm set!
But wants are fun.  Here is my daydream birthday wishlist in a frivolously perfect world:

- A slick pair of T.U.K. Mondo Creepers in size 9.  While I'm at it, here is my shoe Pintrest.  Any of these would be just fine.  http://pinterest.com/trazadone/shoes/

- A matching set of this white collar and matching leash for Boppy and me. (Bop and I have the same birthday.  My baby is going to be 10ish!  wow.)

- I am always and forever wanting new tattoos and have endless plans and ideas.  This is one of them:

- A new Klick Klack with underneath storage.

- A new bedroom.

The mirrored furniture from Pier One has always been my ideal dream set.  This is the Jewelry Armoire:

- A fat gift card to Michaels would make me very happy. 

- I'll take rhinoplasty, a boob lift, and my stretch marks erased, please.

- A big ol' gift card to Sephora.

- Patrick Nagel & Dennis Mukai framed prints.  I've had my eye on these girls:

- Fancy clothes, including the perfect pair of lace pants, perfect linen pants and general badass bizarre Maria style.  

- Between 6 and 12 hours of uninterrupted sleep would be heaven.

- I want to adopt a small young dog.  Preferably a mutt, male between 5 and 30 lbs.

 

That's actually what I want the most.  I want to rescue a young little boy dog to join our family.  I know it's not the best idea for a 1 bedroom apartment that's already occupied by a full grown husband, Siberian Husky, deranged cat, and me.  But this is a fantastical wishlist, and I wish for a little friend to love and cuddle me, and to be the best mom and home possible to the little guy.  

I want a small dog.  I want one so bad.  Just a little one.  To have forever.

OK that's my list.  It's just for fun.  For pretend.  I have pink Pajamas with the turtles on them and a Ween shirt.  Time for a nap.

pajamasout.

Dear Neighbor,

If you spent as much time on your lonely, neglected dog as you do on your love life, he wouldn't be such a neurotic, anxious mess.  You destroyed his confidence, energy and personality, most likely damaged for life.

You are disgusting.

SINCERELY,
Neighbor

P.S.
you call yourself a dog trainer?  You bring shame to the honor and make the rest look stupid.
I dislike you immensely.

Stumble in somnambulance so pre-dawn corpses come to life

I don't get a lot of sleep.  Because of my job i have been conditioned to sleep in unfulfilled 2 hour spurts, waking up at the slightest stirring. I'm constantly tired and many days i am delirious, which as a child my mother defined as "you're so tired that you've turned silly."

I have many obstacles in my way of sleep, but one that notably bothers me is that i hate my bedroom.  I hated my bedroom of the previous 7 years, and i hate the one i have now.  It's small, which normally i could deal with but when husband, then boyfriend, moved in it made it all that much more cramped, cluttered, tiny and full of gross boy stuff (i swear his *socks make me want to choke and die a thousand deaths).  There isn't a curtain in there and early in the relationship Nicky was trying to teach me to be more fiscally responsible and to only purchase necessities.  He talked me out of buying curtains and instead tacked up an old blanky that i already disliked in the first place, and now the room gives off a hillbilly trying to keep the sun out of his NASCAR-meth-porn-Dave Matthews den.

I hate it all.  I need a grown up bedroom that i love and want to be in that is my sanctuary.  I need it for my sleep and sanity.  I need it for an escape from the constant pet hair in my life.  I keep the door closed because i need at least one tiny itty bitty space where i am not suffocating forever on fur.  Fur that is another blog for another time.

I have a vision.  I don't know and kind of doubt if this vision will ever be accomplished, but i do have a daydream bedroom.  A luxurious and dark goth bedroom of velvets, crushed and otherwise, lace, and some type of slippery satiny material  that's soothing to touch.  I see many candles, soft lighting and mirrors, not the harsh ugly overhead light with the switch that Nick actually prefers.  Yuck. I envision plush bedding and many pillows to comfort me and prop me up as i read my rock n roll biographies to pull me to sleep.  I see a vanity with a mirror and bench for my fancy perfumes and cosmetics.  All this in blacks, charcoals, carmine, burgundy, lacy whites, metallics, animal print, celestial, art and fantasy.

And everything will have a place.  No more stacks, piles, bags and clutter.  Organization.  Harmony.

Nick was amazing enough to help me start this.  In the past couple days we have cleaned out our dressers, piles and closets. Getting rid of clothes we don't wear, like or that no longer fit.  6 garbage bags of crap we got rid of.  It felt incredible.  Nick can use his dresser properly now and the closet rods are no longer in danger of crashing to the ground.  Next will be clearing out "things".  Stuff in boxes, papers, miscellany.  I can't wait.

Mother is also in strong favor of getting the bedrooms act together and has offered to make me curtains and we're going to go material shopping after my surgery.  Very lovely of her to volunteer.

Little by little and over time I hope it gets better and closer to something that I don't despise and actually feel comfort and achieve sleep in.  It's not right that i have not slept in my own bed with my husband for many many months.  It just plain sucks.

Mother of mercy, I am so tired.

Pajamas on...






*a word i can't even say without gagging.

chapped lips paper cuts and pinking shears

the eyes in my head feel like dirty fingernails and sticky with glue ruining that last bit of craft with the delirium and carelessness of neglectful hand washing.  you could say i'm tired.  but if you said that you'd never be quiet.  My brain told me to walk the dog for her potty, and I wound up in a car that isn't mine in the Super America parking lot.  no dog.  Better get snacks.

pajamas.....somewhere.

Hot Hot Hot

I woke up at 3:30am damp and scared.  I must have had a nightmare because my heart was racing and my jaw was tense from clenching.  I don't remember the nightmare, but I do remember dreaming about Nick tricking me into tasting a pickle pizza.  There was no need for deception since I told him in real life that I believed him that a pickle pizza was tasty and I would try it willingly.

But I was also damp.  Sweaty.  And I know why...It's because my apartment is Equator hot.  I'm living in a prominence with a fireplace inside a small Italian kitchen.  It's satanically hot.  There are old timey radiators in every room that have a knob to control the temp, but whether its barely touched or cranked to 11, it's the same.  African planes suffocatingly angry hot.  I'm going to die of hyperthermia.  But it's OK.  At least I'm not cold.

I can't breathe.

Vroooom!!

I really dislike my car.  It's a little 1994 beige manual Geo Prism, and I definitely got what I paid for.  I don't recall the amount exactly, but the price was scarily low.  I know I have put a few thousand dollars in it for repairs.  I'm afraid of it, and I don't trust it.  It constantly makes scary noises, and when I get that fixed, it immediately starts a new noise.  It overheats all the time, the battery randomly gets disconnected, the tires are bald, and sometimes the little shit just doesn't start at all.  I don't feel safe in it at any time I'm driving.  I mainly drive it to work 3 miles away, and for the entire drive I'm tense, nervous and hoping I don't get stuck on the side of the road AGAIN, or die in a car fire from the damn thing exploding.

My dream is to have a worry free car that I feel safe in.  I'm not a car person, I know very little about how they work, and I certainly don't care about looks or models, but I haven't had a car that I have trusted in 13 years.

and that was Shads.

My 2nd car, a white manual 1996 Dodge Shadow ES.  I loved that car.  I got it with an insurance claim after a giant SUV slammed into my Cougar the day I graduated.  That car was my best friend.  I taught myself to drive stick on it, it had a boss stereo and sound, and we went everywhere together.  It was a healthy, fast, cute and fun car.  I wasn't afraid of expressways or driving long distances because I trusted it.  Those two things I just can't do now because I have no idea what my jerk car is going to do or if it will break at any given moment.

I'm just tired of of having anxiety every time I get behind the wheel.  I'm tired of spending money on a vehicle that isn't worth it.  I'm tired of worrying about a new noise every week. I'm sick of only being able to use my brights.  I'm tired of having a broken stereo!  It's the worst feeling in the world when you have to hold back tears just thinking of the drive to work.  Even though I have a car I feel like I have less independence because I'm afraid to go anywhere.
I want a carefree leisurely drive with a car that's my buddy again.

As it is, my sad little lemon isn't even worth as much as it's bumper stickers.

This is what my Shads looked like.  A nice sturdy little guy.  But one day I took it in for an oil change, and within the week he just....stopped.  Would't even start.  It's still a mystery to me and to all who had looked at it.  It was the beginning of the end.  I am doomed to a life of shitty cars and driving anxiety.  You think I'd be used to disappointment by now.

20 Random Facts About Me

I have been neglecting this little space of mine, and I would like to try to pay it a bit more attention.

Here is some Maria information.

1. I really want to quit smoking but I am scared.
2. my favorite colors are grey, black, white, orange and glitter.
3. I am a feminist.
4. yet I wish the world to be packed with gay men.
5. crying babies and children make me very angry.
6. I am a vegetarian and animal rights activist.
7. my goal is to be an extremely successful and accomplished dog handler/trainer.
8. I am very sensitive and my feelings get hurt very easily.
9. I sleep only in short increments.  maybe only 2 hours at a time.  I hate it.
10. I adore hot hot weather.  the hotter, the better.
11. i easily get dangerously addicted to reality t.v.
12. my favorite movies are documentaries and horror.
13. my favorite food is popcorn.  I can always eat it.  I am always in the mood for it.
14. I sing like an amputee.  can't hold a note.  can't carry a tune.  but i do it anyway.
15. I have broken every rule I had made for myself about being in a relationship.  it was the best thing I have ever done.
16. One of my plants is dying or dead, and I am very sad and emotional about it.  like, a lot.
17. I have to actively try very hard to avoid severe depression in the winter.
18. I cannot drink caffeine and haven't for 10 years.
19. I am allergic to strawberries.
20. I am 18 years older than my youngest sister.

the list has to stop at 20 otherwise it would never end and you find out way more than you ever wanted to know about me.  trust.

pajamas on.  pajamas out.

Hey, Mister!

NO Dummies Allowed

Women, i cannot stress this enough: Get smarter!

We live in an age of information where almost everybody can access the Internet from their phone.  Even if it weren't that easy for everyone, most people have computers in their homes, or friends and relatives homes.  And if that's not available, libraries are everywhere and not only do they have computer, but they have books!  And if that's too hard to get to, you will undoubtedly be able to get your hands on a newspaper or dictionary, encyclopedia, thesaurus, anything with input, information and facts!  Doctors, scientists, teachers, librarians can help and answer questions, too.  Never be afraid to ask and question any and everything that's on your mind.

If you are interested in something, anything, I don't care what it is, look it up.  Read more, learn about it, ask questions, and love research. Animals, fashion, beans, pregnancy, germs, math, butts, lipstick; it's all out there!

Being stupid isn't cute, and it's dangerous.  If you have a question about something, it's so easy to find an informed answer.  Don't take everything for face value, dig in and find out all answers and options for yourself.  There is no excuse for ignorance anymore.

Females, it will only help us to constantly be bettering ourselves.  Get out there and question everything and never stop learning.  Know it all!

I'm far from perfect, I'm far from being the best I can be, but I'm trying.  I will learn and ask my questions til I die.

and then....

today i found myself wondering what the people i know, and people i have known think of me.  not like, if they think i'm cool or smart, or funny.  more like if i have ever helped them with a problem or situation or decision they had.  if i have ever said something that they had listened to.

one thing i know about people is that they prefer not to listen, but to talk.  if i begin to talk about my day, or my life,  or my thoughts, i can feel the company i'm with shut down.  they light up at their turn to go on about themselves, (not an insult, just something i have observed) and listen when their situation is commented upon.

so with this i have learned to say little about myself, and ask about my company often, allowing them to focus on their life.  i listen carefully, and try to thoughtfully answer.

i wonder if they hear me.  i wonder if they ever think of me and the comments i have made about what they tell me.

for some reason it would make me happy if i had any sort of impact on someone, more than if they even knew who i was.

Wedding!

Home is whenever I'm with you.

I.  Am.  Getting.......MARRIED!  omgomgomg i can't breathe!  there is so much to say, but i'm in such a spazz that it will have to wait...i gotta go be busy smiling!

i love him.

People Never Notice Anything.

When i got home from work this morning I went to make my scheduled potty, and for some reason i cannot think of now i was thinking about the Catcher In The Rye and all the old timey words that Holden Caulfield used.  Lousy, phony, crummy.  Crummy.  I kept thinking of the work crummy over and over and lost it.  I can't believe i didn't wake the boy up from how hard i was laughing.  I don't know why.  it's a stupid word.  but now i just love it.  Crummy.
Crummy tummy.  Silly crummy.  Crummy puppy.
Yesterday was really crummy with a lot of disappointment.  i hope today is better.  Hopes aren't high.

i like that this pic popped up when i did an image search for Crummy.  they're cute, but yeah, totally crummy.
Plastic dump truck infant is fun.

She's done with Sergio

To the tune of Jane's Addiction "Jane Says":

Bop Says

Bop says

I'm done with Pedigree

It gives me tummy aches

She hides

Her metal food dish

Says I don't want that kibble

But when mom feeds me again

Tell her I want some Beggin' Strips

or just

a Milkbone if she has one

Just some Milkbones if she has some

Bop says

Can you take my collar off?

I feel naked without it

She knows

it's time to take a walk

But that's ok man

Gotta go potty anyway

Bop says

I'm going to the park

When I get my poop bags saved

I'm gonna start tomorrow

I'll have to poop tomorrow

Gonna poop tomorrow

She gets mad

And she starts to bark

She wants to go

To the dogpark!

She don't mean no harm

She's just a dog

She can't drive a car

Bop gets

Fed at night at 8

She spins around in circles

She waits

And gets her dinner then

She licks the crumbs

Up off the floor

Bop says

I've always been in love 

I know just what it is

It's anyone who'll pet her

I wonder if they have treats

I want them if they have treats

She gets mad

And she starts to bark

She wants to go

To the dogpark!

She don't mean no harm

She's just a dog

She can't drive a car

Bop says

Bop says

That's what happens in my spare time.  My pets have starred in many hits.

I will NEVER go your way.

No.  NO!  Curse my love for 90's pop culture, because of this, i don't want to live anymore.  Hammer in the last nail, cuz the sweet silence of a dirt nap is better than what's crashing around in my head right now.  Tom Cochrane's Life Is A Highway is on repeat in my head. *shudder*

It was a dark time for 1991 when this piece came on to the scene.  I HATE Tom Cochrane.  Hate.  I hate his scratchy Canadian rock-but-sensitive vocals.  I hate his puffy face and dusty coconut stubble.  His blowin' in the wind haircut and standard musician leather jacket with light denim made me punch my own butt.  Useless.  Boring.  Superfluous.

Can we talk about the video?  The bloated goat huffing into a harmonica looking all smug at the beginning?  You just know it's gonna be one cliche after another.  The tan color scheme.  Wheat field, deserted gas station manned by the pedo.  Young couple having "good times" rebelling and in love.  Ripped jeans.  A convertible.    Vomit in my own jammies.  Why are you casually waving to a Native American standing in front of white nuns?  Is that middle America?  What are you getting at?  You just happened to have yr guitar up in those rocks and you just have to JAM, man!  Gross.

It's all just so predictable and boring!  it's so beige and weak.  It's dad music.  it's the khaki soundtrack.  It's everything i hate.  and it's stuck in my head.  So i take my head and flush it down the toilet.  I can't have this puke rattling around in my skull, it's ruining my day.  But it's still not as bad as Coldplay.

Now i got my jammies all in a snit.  shit.

Oh baby, it's dark out there! but oh baby, it's dark in here...

I'm not about to pretend i understand it, but somehow, i am in a relationship.  with a boy.  my boyfriend.  a cool dude who has his shit together (relatively. we can't all be Danzig.)  actually enjoys my company.

After a large drink last night, i took some personal inventory and realized just how lucky i am that this man puts up with my "quirks".  Cuz if i were single, this is what i would have to offer:

- poor self image.  dudes love to hear that i am feeling puffy, fat, and look like a boy with no makeup.  I can't take a compliment, and will spend hours online comparing cosmetic surgery prices.  Does my butt look ok in these pants?  I wish my lips were bigger.  I'm awful.

- obsession with dogs/animals.  Aw look at my dog!  isn't she hilarious?!  You can't pet my cat cuz she bites.  Telling them about all the dogs i work with and how they have terrible owners who don't know what they're doing.  I would do it this way.... Asking them to go to the Humane Society with me.  Just to look.  Leave in tears.  Forcing dude to watch endangered squid documentaries.  "This is what's wrong with our society!  Look at how we treat animals!"  You have to vote on this to get puppy mills banned!  over and over and on and on...

- Can I paint yr toenails?

- I will not drive on highways.  NO.  I will NOT do it.  I'm scared.

- unhealthy relationship with Mommy.  I love Mommy!  I cannot answer Mothers calls today.  I miss my mom.  I can't DEAL with her!

- Diet of a child aka laziest/worst vegetarian ever.  Cheese pizza.  pasghettios.  candy!  macaroni.  cereal. candy!  vegetables are icky.  no onions.  I'm allergic to strawberries.  candy!  gatorade.  beer.  are there strawberries in this?  i think I'm swelling up.  popcorn.  candy!  tomatoes are yuck.  will you bring me starbursts?

- I'm clingy.

Nicky, yr a gem.  I don't know how you put up with me, but don't think i don't appreciate it.  I'm a lucky girl.  You deserve a medal.  or a degree in working with the mentally unstable.

Hello Kitty jammies on.

Falling out of sleep i hit the floor.

i am able to pass out anywhere.  i can fall asleep on command.  Christmas morning, at Mothers house, after going potty about 3am, i fell asleep washing my hands.  I rarely wash my hands.  i talk in my sleep, walk, smoke,  I've eaten.   i once got myself into a coma in my sleep and woke up the hospital.  terrible.  terror.  
The newest phase i am going thru is sitting up in my sleep and staying that way.
As if i am sitting up from a bad dream, but after i acknowledge that it was a dream, and i am relatively safe, i stay sitting up as i drift again.  Wake up a few hours later with a stiff neck wondering how i got that way.  how DID i get this way?  how did any of us get this way?  i have to get away.
I stay in my pajamas as long as i am able to.  i work overnights to allow me to stay jammied.  having no shame allows me to shop in my bathrobe, walk the dog in over sized Jesus and Mary Chain t shirts and hot pants.  Slippers and sweatpants to the bank?  no duh.
i keep a pillow in my car for spontaneous naps.  nap with me.  cuddle up.

the legend of the leg pillow.

i need to "let it all out" in the worst way.  thing is, i don't know where to.  i can't just scream in my apartment.  it's an apartment.  someone will call the cops.  and screaming into the pillow doesn't work.  i need the satisfaction of the sound, the shriek the wail howl cry.  the pillow.  that's one of my friends.  not about to yell at it.

you know, i can't even finish writing this.  i'm so tired of it all.  even my fingers are weak.

found image