I suppose I ought to end the year on a blog!

It's December 31st, 2009. It is the end of the year. To quote the narrator of (500) Days of Summer:

"Most days of the year are unremarkable. They begin, and they end, with no lasting memories made in between. Most days have no impact on the course of a life."

This applies to whole years sometimes. I feel like this year was mostly unremarkable in my life. I had no great accomplishments nor made any huge improvements.
Butthole and I made it the whole year nearly bruise-less.I managed to keep my New Year's Resolution for the most part.I managed to let things go more often.I didn't gain another 10 lbs. I accepted that I don't have a lot of good friends and I probably never will.That's about it, really. I think that's pretty depressing and for that I'm happy to see 2009 go. I'm hoping 2010 brings more change.
For now I am planning to embrace the New Year with a new haircut, turquoise nail polish, Jewlove for a companion, and a new scene minus the most important person: Butthole. I miss him but I'm proud to say I've made it this far and haven't a. lost my mind or b. gotten fat. So woo-hoo! Point: Me.
As for my haircut, I have bangs again. Side-swept bangs...

I might cut them again so that they look like this:

That decision is yet to be made. Ideally I'll decide by tonight. I think my face might be too fat :P
Such is my life that at the end of the year all I can talk about is my hair. I'm still not sure what to make of that but for fear of ruining my night I will not think about it (to one more time keep my 2009 resolution).
As for 2010, I intend to continue on my self-improvement and add a goal to be more frugal and have more savings by the end of the year. I'm aiming for less tears and temper tantrums and more laughter and good humor at the face of ill situations. Cheers!

I was really lucky! I was!

I got to talk to Butthole! He called on Thursday night at around 1:30 AM...cursed time difference. I didn't care though, I was just happy to talk to him. Not so happy when he woke me up the second time at 8AM (hey! I get cranky when I'm tired). I got to talk to him on Christmas day too, and very briefly on Saturday. I'm not sure when I'll hear from him again but at least I've survived the past 2 weeks.
It's looking like I'll be spending NYE with Jewlove at Pickles house and possibly at Toolbag's place. Toolbag is not somebody I'd want to see but he's Jewlove's "friend" so we might have to stop by. Whatever, I guess... a party is a party.
Speaking of party guess what I did Saturday night? Oh yes. Overindulgence can be fun when not over done. I hadn't seen Pickles in like two years and she's just as funny as always. I met some new people and saw some people I hadn't seen in forever, it was fun. Plus considering the last places I've partied at (not including close friends) it was very refreshing to not be surrounded by complete idiots/pricks/tools/sluts. It seems like most of the guys that were there are usually good friends with girls so they weren't a bunch of creeps who made inappropriate comments. It was fun making friends with people who don't want to hit on you. :)
Besides that my bowling skills continue to be abysmal and I managed to make it through Christmas without putting on weight. Good times...

Upon hearing from Butthole.

I have yet to mention that I heard from Butthole! Indeed among the sea of excrement that the past few days has been I got an e-mail from him. The first one came Saturday night saying he hadn't been able to write because he'd been in Dubai. Gosh, he never tells me anything!
Anyway, sounds like he's having fun. He's been trying to get a game of beer pong going out there but apparently Egypt doesn't have hefty cups.
I really miss him and I can't wait to hear from him again. Maybe for Christmas if I'm really lucky.

The ñoqui scorned.

I told the tale of the ñoquis I slaved over over the course of two nights. How I made the dough and rolled it out... how I cut it and marked each ñoqui individually... how I froze them by the batch on cookie sheets before bagging them. How I had to maneuver like a circus acrobat every time I opened my freezer so that they wouldn’t fall out (they fell out anyway... all over the floor... twice.)
One of the reasons I made so much (other than because I’m a complete idiot) is because I wanted to give Phatty a bag. If someone loves ñoquis it’s Phatty. I kept putting off giving them to her because I wanted to give them to her on a day when she’d be going to straight home so that they wouldn’t defrost. Finally on Thursday I gave them to her. I was so happy... She wasn’t overwhelmingly appreciative of my magnanimous feat but I let it slide for she was unaware of my troubles.
The next day I went over to her house. I opened the refrigerator to get a glass of water and what do I find? I see it there on the bottom shelf a bag of what was once the delightful ñoquis I so diligently prepared. Sitting there helplessly: A a pathetic bag of mush. I say "Gasp! What means this!? Those were supposed to go in the freezer!" The ghastly answer? "Lol, yeah I gave them to BIL and he put them in the refrigerator." Now let me say this: What kind of damn idiot is given a bag of FROZEN ñoquis (or anything frozen, for that matter) and puts them in the refrigerator? Who? Do you know someone like that? Well kill them-lest they breed and populate the earth with their idiocy.
Now I know that I gave them a present and they are free to do whatever with it. If they ruined the ñoquis that's their problem, they are the ones that missed out... but still! I worked hard, damn it!
I got over that... sort of. But THEN BIL called me a few days later. He was going to make the ñoquis... "how do I cook them?" He asked... "Um... just like any other pasta: boil the water and throw them in... except throw them in individually, so they don't stick, and boil them until they float... about 10 minutes" Then he tells me all about how he's re-rolling them. He's "just rolling them again and cutting them and dumping them in the pot." The horror! Cutting them and dumping them in the pot! He has no idea how to handle ñoquis! Have I not made it painfully clear how much of a pain in the ass it is to mark each ñoqui individually? Let me clarify: You have to roll them the right thickness, then you cut them the right dimensions, and then you have to mark them just right on a fork, they can't stick to the fork and once marked you have to dent them just right. It's a freaking art form, one which I've mastered and here he is butchering my masterpieces after having already destroyed them! My heart was torn apart! My head was reeling! I was short of breath! I was sick to my stomach!
Oh but it got worse! He then asks "How do I serve these?" um... with sauce... and some cheese sprinkled on top. "Can I serve them with chili?"
...
...
...
...
... Chili? CHILI? CHILI? It was as if he'd asked me if I wanted ketchup on my steak! CHILI ON ÑOQUIS!? Whoever heard of such an offence? The horror! The abomination! The monstrosity! The offence! My head nearly blew up! I needed some smelling salts.
I've decided, however, that I'm going to put it out of my mind and pretend it never happened. It'll be easier on my nervous system.

Julie&Julia, cooking, and good timing.

Last week was very stressful. On Friday I was extremely down. T-Bitch flaked out on that ride he said he’d give me and I, even after all given past history, managed to be surprised. T-Bitch is not a good friend to me and I’ve known this for a while. Why I continue to delude myself into thinking he is, or might one day be, I don’t know. It’s the same way I continue to be shocked by my mom’s behavior. I think it’s a coping mechanism for me... as in I need to cope with the fact that I’m surrounded by shitty people and to do so I must completely block out their shitty tendencies and pretend they don’t exist. Then when they inevitably crop up I am shocked because my brain is looking the other way pretending not to see the oh so blatantly obvious. It may just be pure idiocy... who knows. It’s one of those things I won’t try to decipher because we all know what I’m going to do with all my heavy thinking... I’ll come up with a brilliant answer to all of my problems and then absolutely ignore it... Reflecting and disposing.
I wonder if that makes me like my mother. She claims to be aware of her faults though we all know she’s doing nothing to correct them. I like to think that’s not the case. Unlike her I don’t feel I should be martyred for my faults and short comings... I don’t want to be understood in all of my stupidity. If I choose to do nothing about my constant denial then I’ll be the one to deal with the repercussions when it all hits me in the face and I want to cry. I’m not going to let anyone see me cry over something that could have been avoided if only I’d wised up... ok, maybe Phatty... and only when it comes to mom, but that one is a toughie and Phatty is my sister, she’s seen me through everything and she understands.
Anyway... so I was stressed and such. I decided to man up and embrace my independence. I took the (oh so lame) local public transportation system to go to the store. I finished (almost) my Christmas shopping and yes... made yet another trip to Sally’s. I won’t go into THAT particular shopping experience but let’s just say I was there for over an hour and left about $50 poorer (even after my 15% off coupon)... it was very therapeutic. The next day I went grocery shopping with Phatty after going out to breakfast together with the children... I was home by 2 o’clock and somehow I still felt incredibly weighed down. It felt like the day should be over but there seemed to be so much left of it.
I took Spazzpup on a walk and upon arrival I got right into baking for my Christmas goody bags. I stuck to the simpler things this year... I’ve already spent enough time in the kitchen and not enough sleeping in the past month to get all crazy on little knick knacks for nearly strangers. I made cookies, Magic bars and English toffee bars. I made toffee for the first time! I am seriously all about expanding my culinary horizons this season; I really hope I can stay on this kick for a while.
Once I was done with that I made some marinara sauce. I’ve almost got it down perfectly. I’ve looked at countless recipes but I’ve decided I’m just going to make my own. It was definitely delicious but a bit too sweet... I’ll get it eventually. I also made some whole wheat pizza crust... that one still needs work but damn it if I’m not going to get it right one day!
In the midst of all this I forgot to mention I stopped by the video store and picked up a movie. I decided after all this stress I really just needed to shut off my brain for a little while. I rented Julie and Julia. It was ironic how good the timing was. First of all because of the theme at hand: I’ve been cooking like a wild soccer mom the day before the bake sale and these women were both cooking like... ehh... insert clever simile here. Oh and my name is Julia! But that’s just a silly coincidence. :P I absolutely loved the movie. It was exactly what I needed and I cannot explain how much better I felt after watching it. My brain really needed the break, for one, but I think any other movie wouldn't have also given me the warm fuzzy feeling I was left with. There was so much I loved about it: the cooking, the acting, the passion, the honesty, the romance, the reality, the growth. I was moved by the love between the couples and the loyalty and the reality. I mean SO. MUCH. LOVE. And it was so much more real that the usual chick-flick romance. I was literally swooning. The cooking was just beautiful and it truly captured the way I’ve been feeling lately with all of my experimentation, whether successful or not. I may not be boning ducks but I still feel very rewarded every time a new recipe turns out right.
I was also left feeling a lot lighter after watching Julie’s character learn so much about herself. Somehow my mind was clearer: I love my mom. I love myself. I have to live with myself every single day. I can’t continue getting upset over something I can’t change. I need to embrace the fact that things will never be perfect between us. I need to accept that. The world won’t end because of it, but my life will become much simpler.
I’m going to e-mail my mom and make plans with her for Christmas. I’m having dinner with Phatty on Christmas Eve but it’d be nice to have dinner with mom, too. I hope she’s ok with it. I’m not going to get into it with her again. I will give it another shot and if she gives me another unreasonable and dramatic response I’ll ignore it. At least I’ll know I’ll have tried. I won’t allow myself to loose sleep over it.

Stress and boots.

It's Thursday and I haven't heard from Butthole still. I know I didn't expect to hear from him (regardless of what he said which was "I'll write all the time" and I said "You'll write me 3 times and that's if I'm lucky") but it still makes me a little sad. I understand because umm... hello? Would YOU go to a different country and then sit in front of the computer the whole time? Yeah, didn't think so... still... Little ol' selfish me would like to hear from him.
Today has been a very stressful day: The whole thing with my mom is weighing in the pit of my stomach, Phatty's been texting me all day (Not stressful, it's just one more thing to do that is making everything else harder, but that's my fault), I'm not sure Little Brother's other gift will be here on time, the regular message board I frequent to escape reality has been in chaos since yesterday, the office has been a nightmare with patients, my boss being a bitch, and me doing all of the year's purging, I feel like my Christmas shopping is more incomplete than it really is... I'm kind of a wreck today, though no one knows it.
I asked T-Bitch to take me to the store tonight a couple of days ago. He said yes and to remind him but he hasn't replied to my text yet today. I think whether he takes me or not I'm not going to go to the gym. I feel like my head is going to blow up. I need to lay down.
On the other hand I got my boots yesterday :) I first ordered the black ones, of course, but after they went on sale I went ahead and bought the purple ones- Go daredevil Julia! ha! oh and if that's not enough I also bought them in MAGENTA! Oh yea! Who's hardcore now? Ha... I'm such a twat.
I need a big piece of chocolate. :(

Alone for Christmas.

Nope... not because Butthole is gone... because my mom finally lost her damn mind and I can't take it anymore.
I'm done. I can't keep doing this to myself. For years I've tried to deal with her and turn the other cheek and tolerate her because "she's my mother" after all. Well, I can't justify her behavior any more. She doesn't love me, she doesn't care about me and frankly, I've done nothing to deserve the treatment I get. All she thinks about is herself. She told me horrible things about my dad when my parents got divorced at the expense of my feelings and what I needed for her own satisfaction. She tells me terrible things about my little brother such as I won't even repeat here because the idea of him EVER hearing them tears me up.
It started last week. Phatty doesn't talk to her. I've covered that before. I invited mom to Phatty's recital because I said "eff it, I don't care what Phatty might want, mom would enjoy it" well mom's answer to my invitation was a dramatic "Well, am I allowed to go? Will I be getting dirty looks? Please, I just couldn't possibly bear it if I had to put up with that!" Let it be said that even after all mom has done to Phatty (including a horrible phone call to her that sent her into early labor with her second baby) she has NEVER given mom undeserved dirty looks. Here's where I went wrong: I could have said, "yes, of course you can go. In fact- it's a great idea! Go and shout and be merry!" but I broke and I couldn't take her nonsense and told her she was being ridiculous. I told her to quit acting like a drama queen and get over it. If she didn't want to get dirty looks that she shouldn't do the things that would provoke them. Well that did it.
That got me an angry e-mail about what a horrible daughter I am for not comforting her in her hour of need and how she's a human being that needs comfort and she wouldn't be going to the recital if not allowed to "be herself". To which I replied that unfortunately I am her daughter not her friend or confidant and that I'm not here to listen to her woes between her and my sister. That is not to say I don't listen to all the other stuff (work, boyfriends, friends, blablabla) but I will not be the ear that listens to how horrible my siblings are-not from my mother. So I got a very nice cup of "go fuck myself" and we didn't talk for a few days.
I thought I'd let it blow over as usual and go about my business and pretend nothing happened. Well I e-mailed her about Christmas dinner with a recipe I wanted to try and her reply was a brief "I haven't thought about it, I can't really handle thinking about it right now. Are you still coming? I haven't bothered thinking about it since all my children hate me." Cue eye-roll. Seeing as my e-mail clearly showed that I had planned on going and she still replied in this way I told her if she didn't want to do anything I'd host dinner for myself and Little Brother and be done with it.
This triggered another invitation to go fuck myself (in Spanish, but nonetheless). Yes, that would my OWN MOTHER telling me to go fuck myself. Lovely, right? I'm done and I told her so.
I guess I'll have to find new plans for Christmas. Butthole is gone, most of my other friends have functional or at least semi-functional families and will be doing, I'm sure, something on Christmas night. I'm hoping Phatty will be doing dinner at her house rather than her in-laws so maybe I can hang out with her. Otherwise I'll be home alone with my dog and probably a couple movies that will make me cry by the gallon.
I fucking hate this dysfunction.