Superfluous Baloney

I survived yet another adventure as a bridesmaid, third stint as a Maid of Honor. What's that crap old saying? Three times a bridesmaid never a ...yeah pretty much blew past that one, didn't I? Not many friends left to get married now. Just one, but that is a ways off I think. Although, not as far off as my own nuptials... I had a great time though. It was awesome to be back in the Midwest, my comfort zone. Where I am free to be a total smartass, cynicist as everyone expects. My oneliners were on fire. I was a regular mobile comedy show. But I must say surviving yet another wedding has only solidified my sentiments on the importance of ELOPING. Saying it with me kids...ELOPE. Why all the fuss and the muss and the nonsense about families? Blah, blah, blah. It's not about them. It's about the bride and groom making a lifetime commitment to each other. Not flower arrangements, hairdos and flower girl crises. For christsake, go to a beach somewhere with a minister and actually live in and enjoy the moment. Alright enough about my sentiments on the irrationalism of pomp and circumstance. On another note, do you think insanity is contagious? I am hoping not as I am currently residing with some individuals whose mental stability is of a questionable standard. I am hoping that all the meds will help to fight off any of their infectious over-emotional irrationalism. And YES I do take an anti-depressant. Who doesn't these days? And if it keeps me happy and from strangling my family members what the fuck do you care? If you ask me, they should be handed out as party favors, used as stocking stuffers at Christmas and be a requirement at all family gatherings. At least those that involve my family. My plight to find my place in life only continues to get more complicated. This venture to California has only brought a plethora of additional questions to my mind, rather then being the answer to them all. One thing is for certain. I am not a permanent fixture in the glorious Sunshine State. My happy little ass will eventually return to the Midwest. It's just more me. It exudes all that I stand for and represent, cow dung and flat fields. Whether it be next month or five years from now (random number) I will eventually return. What was I thinking leaving a huge gamut of the best friends I have ever had to be with a family that is trying to make me as nuts as they are??? Oh yeah, I was under the insane notion that my family would be of some assistance in my plight to become a more productive member of society through actually establishing myself in some sort of career path all while paying nothing for living in the lap of luxury in my father's new home. Instead I am living with my grandmother and mother, sleeping on a couch in a retirement community, busting my ass applying for everything under the sun with no assistance from anyone. Alright, enough whining. On yet another note, I have come to conclusion that I was born to be retired. Nope, that isn't a typo, and NO I didn't mean retarded you smartass. I mean RETIRED. I could get used to this leisurely life filled with pinochle and rummy games, Law and Order re-runs and weekly gatherings at the clubhouse for coffee and a listing of this weeks new ailments. I mean shit, I fit right in with these 80 year old bats. Sign me up! So they next time I run into my fairy godmother, as surely will occur sometime in the very near future as I am positive I am long overdue for a visit, I am going to ask her to turn me into an 75 year old (WEALTHY) retiree rather then the fairy princess I have always thought I would ask for. I am cut out for orthopedic shoes, pants with elastic waistbands and driving cars to big for me to navigate. So when my fairy godmother, Hilda, passes by I will say to her, "Pass the Gerital please." Stop laughing dammit. Don't you think I will look good with purplish grey hair?

Can someone please point me in the direction of the easy way out? I seem to have taken a wrong turn somewhere and landed back in the land of suck-it-up-work-hard-and-be-an-adult-land. I have been there a million times already and I specifically remember asking the travel agent for a direct flight to The Easy Way Out. That guy must not have been paying attention again. He always has his own plan, on His own time schedule. What kind of travel agent is that? I mean can't we just do it my way just once? But NOOOOO He's all hung up on teaching lessons, building character, strengthening spirits. Well I say BLAH BLAH BLAH. I beg and plead, can't we just this ONCE do it MY way? Just once can't you make it all fall in my lap and come together with little work or sacrafice? Trust me, I've got plenty of character and my spirit can't get any stronger. But does He listen? Oh hell no. He calls the shots, determines the outcome of the game. So now here I am stuck in this God forsaken place with no choice but to continue trudging along until it all unravels the way He planned it, which would not be the EASY WAY as I specifically asked for. And I suppose a year of so from now I'll look back and see that His way really was the best way. That's SO annoying. Why does He always get to be right? I mean just because He created the sky, ocean, birds, people, free-will, floods big enough to wipe out all of civilization, but does He always have to be right? I mean, come on, can't I just be right for once? FINE, we'll do it Your way, but don't think I won't whine and moan and bellyache and drag my feet along the way. And Your going to hear about it everyday too Mister. You know I'm not the type to hold back, seeing as it's You that made me that way anyway. :)

Don't know what I was looking for when I went home, I found me alone And sometimes I need someone to say, "You'll be all right. What's on your mind?"But the water's shallow here and I am full of fear, and empty handed after two long years Another sunny day in Californ-i-a I'm sure back home they'd love to see it But they don't know that what you love is ripped away Before you get a chance to feel it Back home I always thought I wanted so much more, now I'm not too sure Cause sometimes I miss knowing someone's there for me and feeling free Free to stand beside the ocean in moonlight And light myself a smoke beneath the dark Atlantic sky Another sunny day in Californ-i-a I'm sure back home they'd love to see it But they don't know that what you love is ripped away Before you get a chance, before you get a chance to feel it Everybody here is living life in fear of falling out of line Tearing lives apart and breaking lots of hearts just to pass the time And the eyes get red in the back of your head, this place will make you blind Put it all behind me and I'll be just fine Another sunny day beneath this cloudless sky Sometimes I wish that it would rain here And wash away the west coast dreaming from my eyes There's nothing real for them to see here Another starry night in Californ-i-a I'm sure back home they'd love to see it But they don't know that what you love is ripped away Before you get a chance, before you get a chance to feel it

Cuz this is going to be a wing-dinger. It's been a good while since I have induldge myself in one of my no-holes barred, let the cuss words fly, good ole fashioned rants. And let me tell you, it's been building for awhile... Can you tell me how one manages to go from being engaged, living in a home you own to being single residing in a one bedroom apartment then down to living in a room that you rent from a roommate and then to a couch, JUST a couch. NOT EVEN A ROOM, but a freakin couch...How many steps backward was that..let me see here...1...2...ummm...oh yeah that would be AT LEAST FOUR. And now not only have I been reduced to sleeping on my couch, I am surrounded by my ever so dysfunctional family DAILY. We defined the word, look it up in Webster if you don't believe me. You will see a pic of the Reed family and a multi-generational family tree right next to it labling each clinical diagnonsis for every member. Dude, pull out the rusty razor blades, the old ratted noose, the bottle of pills from the back of the cupboard, whatever your vise maybe, because these people are seriously sucking my will to live over here. If I have to hear one more time the story about how my mother would not go into the urgent care when my grandmother was ill, but would only sit in the car, or how hurt she is that my mother found her real father and chooses to have a relationship with him I JUST MIGHT BARF. (okay, not as extreme as you might have anticipated, how about throw myself down on the floor and have a good old fashion temper tantrum? Still not dramatic enough? Maybe yell and scream and swear to watch nothing but Law and Order reruns until they stop?? How about throw myself off the roof of the tallest trailer in the trailer park?? Shut it, that'll have to do, and I'm digressing anyway here from ever so needed venting session...) I mean HELLO people that was 20 years ago, can we PLEASE move on? Is it a topic that needs to be breeched on a weekly basis? And need I point out that you are the one who married the man and having a child with him, thus making him her father!! And then there's mom...Do you ever have good days? I mean where you wake up and think to yourself, "Hey, my life ain't half bad!" I mean I've personally never witnessed one, but I have to assume at some point in your life that must have occurred. And if not how the hell did you manage to raise a kid that actually does posses an ounce of optimism, hell maybe even a whole pound of it? (We won't mention the other one you produced who holds them same whoa-as-me outlook on life) Did you know they have medication to fix that? I mean it's great stuff. Maybe the doctor would give you enough to fill the family stockings with them at Christmas time, cuz Lord knows you aren't the only one in this family that could use a few chemically induced rays of sunshine. And when does the time come when you start being held accountable for the way your life has turned out? I mean it was your choice to divorce my dad, it was your choice to marry the asshole that followed that turned out to be an abusive SOB who took all your money leaving you bankrupt. When is the time you say, I made this mess and it's time to clean it up! When do you (and my brother for that matter) stop being the victim?? I mean come on, SUCK IT UP already people. Your family is what it is, they are not going to change. Why must I be reminded of my mother's faults from my grandmother and vice versa every single day? Why do you put me in the middle? You have been putting me in the middle since the day I was born. Being the good kid is fine and dandy, but lay off the "Laura is mature enough to hear all this crap" excuse already. Laura could live her whole life without having to hear about all of this nonsense again and again and again. MOVE ON PEOPLE. Do you know it is gotten to the point that I don't listen to any of you anymore? I have ascertained the uncanny ability to have selective hearing (maybe I'm turning into a man...:) which means you start in and I tune out. I drift off into Never-never Land where there are no grown-ups. Only pirates and mermaids and crocodiles...okay more like mia tias, pina coladas and margaritas, but anyway I've checked out!! I ain't there! You would think you would catch on when I begin mumbling the cabana boy's name, smiling giddily while my eyes begin to slowly glaze over... Anyway, the point is this is my regeneration of nerves week, which means until the new batch comes in I only have one left and you two are on it! SO, how about just not talking to me at all? Let's play hide and seek or something...You go hide and I'll come and find you in a week or so once I've managed to regenerate a few more nerves. So they way I look it at I have three options: Ask the doc to put me on an unheard of, ridiculously large dose of Zoloft, become a raging alcoholic or run off to the Carribean and sleep with the Cabanna Boy that makes all of the Pina Coldas and Mia Tias. I vote for combining two and three. Whewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww, I feel better and it only took me thirty two minutes to get that off my chest. And I never once used the F word. God dammit, fuckin' shit, I'll have to try harder next time.