I'm Not the Only One

I'm Not the Only One
Originally uploaded by Annie Ominous

Gettin' Hitched

2007-04-28-0083
Originally uploaded by Sebastian D. Szyszka

Photo by Sebastian D. Szyszka
Here.

In our house we have two very distinct areas of living. The upstairs is mostly my domain - my office and daughter's playroom is up here along with the bedrooms. The lower level has the kitchen, dining and living rooms as well as my partner Kevin's office/studio. I am usually blissfully content staying upstairs, doing homework, editing photos, reading, whatever. Tonight after I finished putting together a presentation I desperately wanted to escape the stacks of textbooks, co-dependent cats and bad lighting. I went downstairs to have a beer, smoke and was going to settle in on the couch with my laptop to read about through the viewfinder photography techniques. I quickly found that Kevin was not alone - the muses had decided to pay him a visit.

I was incredibly happy to see that he was writing, as I know that songs don't come easy. As I went to grab a smoke he asked if I was planning on hanging out downstairs. I was...but he is uncomfortable working out a new song if anyone is nearby I found out. I get it, I really do - but tonight it really frustrated me. It's not too often that I really desperately want to escape from my corner of the world, and as luck would have it, it is on a night where inspiration has struck. So now I'm back upstairs, with cat in my lap and an Oatmeal Stout by my side.

I'm trying to be understanding, but sometimes its just really hard living with and being in a relationship with a gifted musician. Like any other artist, he has his quirks. I don't really think that people such as himself are well-suited for close relationships and family life - but he's doing the best he can. I've gotten used to the rehearsals and gigs. I try to give him time and space, as that is what he wants more than anything, but that does not mean it's always easy. It's funny, I'm so proud of him and I want him to write and make music and do the thing he loves more than anything else in the world. I try not to take it personally that most of the time he'd rather have a stringed instrument in his lap than me. There are many nights I just want to be left alone to do the things I enjoy. Tonight I am enjoying solitude - just not in my regular domain. I hope it doesn't sound like I'm bitching or that I want him to change who he is. I love him and I'm constantly amazed by his talents - I am thrilled he's working on a song and using the new mic I got him. I'm just feeling a little trapped up here right now.

I am trying to figure out why this is hurting me - I'm not upset that I am not getting attention as I really don't feel like talking, I think it's just the fact that this is supposed to be our house, and I can't be where I want to right now. Maybe it's because this house has never felt like mine, as he picked it out and purchased it with someone else. I didn't help pick the paint colors or choose where the couch went. Granted, I took over the kitchen and the entire upstairs, but I still feel like a guest. This is not his fault, he's tried to make us feel welcome and has told me several times that this is my house too. Him and I both have very strong personalities and ideas about the way things should be, and many times they are conflicting. We both have made many adjustments to the way we live - I fold laundry differently now, he has learned to adjust to the noise and chaos that a neurotic girlfriend and her active three year old brings. It's been an incredible opportunity for both of us to learn how to be less selfish and to compromise more, as neither one of us has ever been any good at that. This relationship has by far been the most difficult, yet also the most rewarding.

Right now I'm feeling some guilt as he just popped his head in the door at the bottom of the steps to let me know that he was done. I hope that he is finished because he wanted to be and not because he felt guilty for asking me to come up here. Tonight, this was a first, being politely asked to go upstairs. I think that from now on I can accommodate that request with out all of these frustrations. I'm trying to be a better person, really I am.

Work in Progress

Suspicion

Suspicion
Originally uploaded by Annie Ominous

For the most part I abhor "princess" fairy tales - especially how Disney presents them in their films. The protagonist is usually a beautiful young girl, who while suffering some tragedy manages to stay positive and kind. The villian is portrayed by an older, spiteful woman who is jealous of the young girl's grace and beauty. The young girl is helpless and must be rescued by a brave and handsome Prince. The stories Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty and Snow White all exemplify those archtypes - and their stories and images are agressively marketed to young girls. My daughter watches these movies and I am okay with that as they are fun films to watch. I wonder though how much stories like these reinforce the Fear of the Other Woman. We often see each other as the enemy, rivals to be suspicious of - especially if the other woman is younger and prettier. Granted, there is a evolutionary and biological explaination for why women (and men) are sexually competive. But I just think that when girls grow up on stories where woman is pitted against woman and finds redemption through a man that it is a little damaging to the spirit.

She pooped in my cornflakes, but I'll get even.

I am trying to shake off a bad case of the nasties I caught from some gleefully rotten customer service representative from Nicor. I don't want to bore you with the details, but the gist of it is that I need Nicor to provide proof that I did not have gas service in my name at a former residence after a certain date. Seems simple enough, yes? I faxed a letter to Nicor, per Nicor's request a month ago. I received a call back today from "Fatima", letting me know that my request is being denied. She did not understand what the letter was requesting and would not stop interupting me long enough to hear. She was rude, inflexible and probably didn't have two brain cells to rub together. I mentioned to her that she might want to consider changing her attitude, seeing as she works in CUSTOMER SERVICE.

My problem was not that she was calling to give me bad news, which was frustrating, but nothing I cannot handle. The issue was that she sounded positively JUBILANT as she crapped all over my morning. You could tell that she was DELIGHTED to be giving me bad news. I apologized to her for what must be such an awful life that it inspires her in her place of work to be a raging cuntface. I hope Fatima loses her job and is replaced by somebody who is actually grateful to have employment.

There. I have finished ranting and now I can move on with my day.

On the bright side, the sun is out!!! I am hoping to get my work done early enough so that I can take a couple of pictures. And tomorrow is the Aurora ArtWalk which I am stoked about. And Saturday is the Bluegrass Festival. These are all happy, wonderful things. The world is a lovely place.

Take that, Fatima.

XX

Pink Shoes
Originally uploaded by Annie Ominous

Today is a six. But a pretty good six. I made Chicken Gyros and cucumber-dill salad for dinner. And I love my new pink shoes. Shame I don't get to wear them until June.

And sometimes I feel like a Greek tragedy

Wouldn't it be nice to have a vacation from yourself? Mood swings are tiring. I am almost certain that the catalyst behind my personal brand of crazy is PMDD caused by my birth control (Mirena IUC). I don't like using that as an excuse though.

I feel like I should be able to control my emotions. I do not want to take anything to counteract the nasty side effects. It's just an ongoing battle between me and myself. Unfortunately, my family usually bears the wounds. I feel terrible for hurting the people I love the most.

I am going to keep trying to not be me.

(Sisyphus by Franz Stuck)

Shoulder
Originally uploaded by Annie Ominous

it's never what you think it will be

Happy New Year

Here lies the obligatory New Year's blog. I have not been writing much since...well, a long time. I don't really feel much like doing it right now either, but I hope that by sending these resolutions out into the world, I might be more inclined to keep them.

This is a partial list in no particular order:

1. Learn web design
2. Research our home & document the process
3. Start the collaborative Aurora project with my fellow A-town enthusiasts
4. Take more pictures & learn about lighting techniques
5. Start sewing again
6. Stop being so defensive
   
7. LESS STRESS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
8. More patience with myself & everyone else
9. Write more
10. Work more
11. Let go of the past
12. Be more considerate
13. Stop leaving half-empty glasses of water all over the house
14. Save money
15. Decrease vanity
16. Make some split pea soup
17. Listen

Oh, and here is last year's list.

Happy '09

Tupperware & iPods

Ya me canso de llorar y no amanece
Ya no sé si maldecirte o por ti rezar
Tengo miedo de buscarte y de encontrarte
Donde me aseguran mis amigos que te vas
Hay momentos en que quisiera mejor rajarme
Y arrancarme ya los clavos de mi penar
Pero mis ojos se mueren si mirar tus ojos
Y mi cariño con la aurora te vuelve a esperar

Y aggaraste por tu cuenta la parranda
Paloma negra paloma negra dónde, dónde andarás?
Ya no jueges con mi honra parrandera
Si tus caricias han de ser mías, de nadie mas

Y aunque te amo con locura ya no vuelves
Paloma negra eres la reja de un penar
Quiero ser libre vivir mi vida con quien yo quiera
Dios dame fuerza que me estoy muriendo por irla a buscar

Y agarraste por tu cuenta las parrandas

So cold

It is always so cold in our house. Even in the summer. Sometimes I am afraid I will never be warm again.

I better get used to it, huh?

New and Improved

In the past year there have only been two times I felt free. One time was last fall and the other last week.

Recipe for Survival

Dignity
Silence
Smile
Retreat

And so on.

This is how I love you

He really is my favorite.

From up here you look so small

I am in a monogamous relationship because I choose to love my partner to the exclusion of all others and I trust him to do the same. Apparently not everyone shares that ideal. I am eternally surrounded by people who cavalierly enjoy the genital delights offered by someone other than their significant other.

According to an online article from Discover, one in twenty-five men are unknowingly raising another man's child.

From a simple evolutionary standpoint, the advantage of a monogamous relationship for a man is that he will not expend resources on a child that is not biologically his (without his knowledge) and he is ensured that his lineage will continue for at least one more generation.

For a woman, it's important that she will not have resources diverted from her own offspring to that of another woman with whom her partner has also bred with.

It's always about sex & money.

Ann O

Baby wipes: $2.19; Roto-Rooter service call $413; The shame in having your asswipes fished out of a pipe by a stranger: Priceless

Who knew a few seemingly innocuous Target-brand baby wipes would end up costing almost as much as a Schecter Stiletto bass guitar?

While it's true that the package warns "do not flush", I thought that was another tree-hugger scare tactic like "global warming". Apparently they really mean do not flush. At least if you live in a house that was built during the hey-day of outhouses.

George, the kind Ghanaian service technician also informed us that "flushable" personal cleansing cloths and tampons are also sewer no-no's. Guess that means my hygiene will have to become as primitive as our plumbing. Lord knows I hate emptying the bathroom garbage can more than once a week.

I also have vowed to never again let a chicken set foot in my oven. Roasted poultry be damned after the crap (literally) I had to contend with to get a hot meal on the table for my family this evening.

Originally I had planned to have my significant other, Kevin pick up one of those delicious grocery store rotisserie chickens on his way home this evening. This was before the turds hanging out on our basement floor became a serious issue.

After work I called Roto-Rooter and they said they'd be out within an hour or so. I did not want to venture into the basement with a potentially creepy man to show him where human excrement was bubbling up from the foundation, so I told Kevin I would get a chicken to roast in hopes that he would get home quickly.

Things started out like a 1955 copy of Better Homes and Gardens. After treating the clucker to a nice bath, I gently fisted her with a palm full of salt and stuffed her cavity with a halved onion for moisture. I lovingly rubbed olive oil and seasons into her supple, plucked flesh and deposited her in the oven for a little r&r before the big show.

Now I've roasted a couple of chickens before and I've never had the entire first floor of my house fill up with smoke thirty minutes into the production. It's 85 degrees and humid outside, we don't have central air and our oven hood does not ventilate to anywhere. I wander around for ten minutes thinking I need a fresh pair of contact lenses before I realize that my three year old daughter is going to develop a smoker's cough from Tuesday night dinner if I don't do something quickly. We start opening windows to stave off asphyxiating before the first course.

Apparently the piece of wood propping open the dining room window decided to stop working. While frantically fanning smoke and boiling green beans I heard the window slam shut. Upon investigation, I see that the piece of wood has become wedged between the window frame and the sill. After dinner I ask Kevin to fix it. He tries opening it and CRACK. Broken glass and an indignant toddler asking "Why did you do that?"

Summary:
If the sewer wouldn't have backed up, I wouldn't have roasted the chicken. If I wouldn't have roasted the chicken, I wouldn't have opened the window. If I wouldn't have opened the window, the glass would still be intact. Ergo, no more roasted chickens in this household.

None of this stuff is a big deal and I'm not terribly upset by any of it. The plumbing issue was resolved, the chicken was edible and tomorrow morning I'll take the window frame to get repaired. It's just money and time, our most precious commodities these days. On a night like tonight you just have to laugh. And drink. I recommend Guinness.

Last time we had an evening like this it involved a dying refrigerator, bats and a six-foot tall drunk Mexican. But that's another story.

Namaste, Ann O

The evolution of a thought

I hate being told I need to relax. Mostly because it's true and also because I don't know how. My hair falls out in clumps because I can't seem to stop the internal buzz that tells me to off myself when I burn a roast (actually never burned a roast but it seems dramatic enough). If my life had a voice over, it would speak entirely in superlatives.

My life is actually wonderful. I have an amazing little girl who never ceases to make me proud; she's whip-smart and beautiful. My significant other is also pretty great. He's patient, generous and extremely hard-working. I couldn't ask for a better partner or daughter. These two bear the brunt of my impatience and ever-changing mood. I want to be strong and reliable for them both. I know that no one is perfect all of the time and I know that I am too hard on my self most of the time. All I can do is keep trying. And I will.

I wonder if humanity's greatest problem is a frontal lobe that evolved beyond the rest of the brain's capacity to reconcile our emotions, desires and behavior.

I do know this: We are insignificant in the grand scheme of things. Humans are but a fart in time. Our purpose is simple; breed and adapt. When our species can no longer do so, we will go the way of the dodos and something else will take our place at the top of the food chain. It's that simple.

I don't believe there is a master plan or that we were created by anything other than a series of wise selections and fortunate circumstance over a long period of time. However, I am grateful that I get to enjoy the many delights that Homo sapiens sapiens has given the world: art, music, filet mignon, literature, technology, domesticated cats.

Some people look to a God or formal religion for comfort and purpose. They try to order the world and carve out a place within it using a supernatural force. I find greater solace in science. It's incredible that We Are because of two million years of beneficial slow changes. It seems almost insulting to deny the miracle of our true creation with a few paragraphs in a work of fiction that has outlived it's usefulness as a history book.

Ann O

as for now

Two things:

• Everything is expensive and I just recently noticed
• I don't want to blog or Flickr until something besides myself is the subject

Work in progress.

Annie O

I need to learn my place.

The importance of being self-important

Originally uploaded by Annie Ominous

Happy Easter from Neurotic Mess, Inc.

Thoughts from that day where a certain group of people wear green and get tossed

Better late than never, yes?

I was going to start this post with a big ol' Minnie Pearl "howdeee!" to the month of March when it occurred to me that the tempestuous third month is two-thirds gone. Where did the time go?

The Day of the Potato Eaters has passed. I survived another year of bagpipers and intoxicated Irish-Americans slurring in brutalized brogue. KT has been playing bass for Jon Conover and they played a great show at Kelly's in Sandwich to the delight of its drunk denizens.

St. Patrick's Day is always a freak show if one chooses to venture out for the evening. That Guy was there. You know the one: non-threatening yet moderately douchy in appearance with a haircut last seen on Jared Leto circa 1993. That Guy had a creepy "is he drunk or maybe a bit touched" aura about him. He seemed pleasant enough but didn't quite grasp the concept of personal space as he kept inching closer to me on the banquette I had the misfortune of sharing with him. He asked me no less than four times if I attended his grade-school (no...) and then peppered me with a slew of unrelated, yet mildly personal questions that crescendoed into a long discussion of an Aurora teenager that was shot to death almost 15 years ago. All I could do was smile, nod, frown and say, "Yeah, that awful." Though the place was stocked with inebriated weirdos and misguided micks, it was a good time.

KT ran into this nice, half-crocked married couple whom he knew when he played in another band. They were elated to see him and told him that earlier in the day they had been singing some of his songs. Suddenly they started belting out their rendition of a song he wrote fifteen years ago. KT appeared to be simultaneously flattered and terrified while I was highly amused and more than a little proud. While it's great to see that people care about things he created, I am looking forward to him getting out more of the stuff he has been working on the last few years and what is going to happen next.

There's more to say, but I'll save it for later.

Annie O