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A New Job, A New Life, And You’re Such a Frakin Dick (NSFW(or mums): Language)

So, Hello! 

I’ve started a new job. I work at Plum Creek for MDF. It’s really hard work but it’s super fun. I make bank. My life is good.

I’ve got a new life starting up. I’ve got friends and family that care about me. And… my life is damn good.

But YOU! YOU ARE NOT APART OF THAT! YOU CAN GO SUCK A MILLION INFECTED COCKS YOU FUCK HEAD!

Now, to explain the third sentence. 

For a very long time I was sure that a certain someone was out of my life. I’ve blocked them from the websites that I could, and refused calls and texts from them. But… I logged into Netflix tonight and it asked if I wanted to resume my viewing of “Orange is the New Black” and I stopped myself and thought.For those of you that don’t know, I don’t care for drama shows like that (or whatever it is) I read the story back in 2010/2011 and I wasn’t impressed. So, you can imagine my suprise when I go to my viewing activity and there are quite a few shows I HAVEN’T BEEN WATCHING! I’m not saying it was that person, but he’s the only person I know that would do that. He lives his life with the mentality that if he can get it out of you for free, then why not just take it from you. Why should he have to pay. He never paid rent, bills, or for food when we were together. When he did pay for something I’d certainly be guilted about it. That went on FOREVER! Well, it felt like forever. I paid for 7 months for him to just sit around and play video games and bitch about how hot it was. 

But hell, do I miss his parents. He has a great set of parents, and in no way do I blame them for the way he turned out. They took us in, they fed us and they cared for us. As soon as getting our own place became a real thing and he was gonna have to start paying bills, the fucker split. I know somewhere along that line I became the bad guy in his story. But I wasn’t. It was my one rule that if you don’t want to be with me just say it, and boy did he say in. In front of the new girl’s house. Said it had been a while, said that I wasn’t the one for him… blah-de-fuckin-blah. Comes crying back to me the next day, about how sorry he was. I was pissed. I still kinda am. You don’t treat people like they have a hold button. I don’t stop existing just because you wanted to sleep with someone else. And I know this probably sounds like I’m making this up, but I’m not. I was hurt, more than I ever have in my life. And I’m mad that I let myself get hurt like that. I loved that man, more than he deserved and more than he knew. I wanted to make that shit work.

He kept texting after that… you’ve probably read that post (my loyal band of 12 followers) when I blew up at him then, to stop texting. And finally I had some peace. It was great. It was a great time…

Then this, I’ve dealt with shit from him on and off since then, but never something this intrusive. The woman at Netflix called him a dick (in the most polite and tactful way). 

I’m happier without him. I am. I can say that and know that I know I am. But you can never get away from shit like your past if it keeps watching shows on your netflix account. 

I know I’ve used some strong words here. I know that I am angry about the situation, and I will need to let it go completely someday. But the anger I have had towards the situation has motivated me to become a better person. Seek out a (extremely) well paying job, find a home with my amazing roommates who love me for who I am and all of my quirks, and be able to do the things I love in life again without being judged and mocked for them. I love what my life has become. This warm happy sunny bubble that I live in. 

“Show me your garden, and I’ll tell you who you are.”

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Food, Life, Rant

“I love (food), It’s my favorite!”: A Story of Acceptance

So, I’ve discovered recently that I seem to love every single food I eat. I only noticed it when my grandmother mentioned it a few days ago. She said “Well, tonight we are going to have sauerkraut and polish sausage.” I responded “Oh I love sauerkraut, it’s one of my favorite foods!” She kinda gave me this look that I took as ‘Really?’ and said “Kas, you say every food is your favorite food.”

This made me think. Because I don’t think I say that about every food. I certainly don’t say that about Mayonnaise. I hate that stuff, unless it’s in tuna fish. Or swiss cheese, unless it’s melted on a Reuben. Bananas I like if there is ice cream surrounding it. 

I’m going through my food index right now trying to think of a food that I do not like and that I don’t like with anything else. I mean, Greek Yogurt would be an option, but I have never tried it with anything (like fruit and whatnot). I can’t say that I don’t like spinach, because I do, as long as it isn’t cooked. I could say sweet potatoes, but I like sweet potato fries. See, this is difficult.

Squash. It is the only food I can say that I don’t like, and I don’t like it with anything else. Unless you count pumpkin pie. But I’m not going to count pumpkin pie. I don’t exactly love it, it is good, but it is more of Bryant’s favorite pie. So we have discovered something that I do not like. Squash. Maybe one day I will find a dish that I like with squash in it, but until then it is the only food I can think of. 

So, the title says that this is a story of acceptance. In a way it is and I am getting to that, so thank you for sticking with me. 

I have never been a small person. Not in height, not in personality, and certainly not in weight. I am the kid that could have played basketball because of how tall I was. I never played basketball, I just don’t care for it. Being taller than everyone else never played into my favor. I was made fun of a lot. It effected every aspect of my life. I didn’t have many friends, I had three grade school friends as a constant (Erica, Josh, and Ben) and in Middle School I met Dee and Arika. Soon, Josh moved and Ben was in a different grade team than I was on. We still saw each other but it was mostly at football games and lunch. Then Erica left our group, and joined who I have determined to call “Them”. “Them” were people who made fun of your size, the clothes you wore, they way you talked. “Them” made me hate myself and everything about me. I ate to comfort myself and then I would hate myself for eating, because it would never fix the problem. I would go out in the summer, but avoid popular places. I hung out with the same people until I left in the eighth grade. I thought this would a turning point in my life, I was starting a new school where no one knew me and it was going to be different. 

BUT! It wasn’t. I felt the capital letters there would break up the somber mood I wasn’t going for. But I like said this is a story of acceptance. The rest of my junior high year sucked as well. High school got better, the reason being, because I stopped giving a fuck (Mum, I apologise for my use of crass language). It’s true really, I did what I wanted, listened to what I wanted and plain stopped caring about other people. The only person who could decide what I was going to be me, was me. 

I developed a cover for the raw, broken, and insecure girl that I had been. The cover I developed kept her safe and made me appear to be a strong and confident person. The cover didn’t care if people didn’t like me, if people talked about me. And I grew comfortable with it. It’s different when you see other people do something, and it looks so easy. It’s easier to do something when you see yourself do it. 

I know that doesn’t make a lot of sense.  But to me it does. I was able to observe myself doing things. I like to say that I live in both the first and third person. I watch myself do things while I’m doing them so that I know I can do them. That’s the easiest way I can say it. It helped me grow as a person and I am happy with it.

This process helped me understand that it doesn’t matter how much I weigh, how tall I am, or how much I eat that I am just damn fine the way I am. Sure I may be on the heavier side, so what. I think I just needed more room for the awesome. 

 

I still struggle with myself time to time. But I’m the only one who is allowed to put me there. The world is not my oyster, because then everything would smell awful. I have all I need. 🙂