This beautiful mess, or as I like to call myself

Today, mark it down, is another day of my existence that is both a rare day off from work – if you think about it, I’ve been working full time (5/7 days per week at 8-10 hours/day) since 18, that’s not counting the two years before that when I was in high school so working less than all that – and a rare day off from work being ruined by family getting togethering.

I’m not into it. And, for some reason…I didn’t think to inquire until this morning who all was going to be there….BOTH sister in laws, the one (the high achieving but kind of judgmental one) will have her sarcastic husband and children in tow, none of her family members like me. I feel like the kids have so many relatives who SHOWER them with gifts, that my husband and I (always financially unable to go so far as getting already the very spoiled niece and nephew Christmas or birthday gifts) with our no gifts…they just don’t want to put the effort in. Plus like this sister in law is known for being sarcastic and judgmental and kind of superior-acting…soooo WHO knows what she says about us in front of her kids. I feel like SO many people forget who they’re talking to sometimes when they’re talking to their kids. But maybe that’s just my memories talking.
Then the other sister in law, the one who’s, for lack of a better phrase, a hot mess. She’s actually showing to a family event, and she’s bringing her boyfriend. I’ve never met him. It wasn’t up there on my list of life priorities. BUT, my mother in law went on a museum outing one day with sister in law and boyfriend, and she did that thing she ALWAYS does and made the boyfriend stand next to a piece and took his picture. She’s always doing this. They’re always taking pictures in the most obtrusive, unappealing manner possible. It doesn’t matter that you’re making our meal in this tiny restaurant uncomfortable, ALL that matters is getting that picture! Fuck the actual moment you were trying to capture! It’s counter intuitive if you think about it. So, there was a picture of new boyfriend in an art museum, and he had a REALLY irritated, out of patience look on his face in the picture my mother in law undoubtedly dictated into happening. I was like, HA! THIS guy gets it! So who knows. Plus like, when you work retail for over a decade, and you add on top of that the years i spent emotionally dodging BOTH of my parents….I’m pretty good at acting like I’m enjoying myself when I’m not. I know this blog makes me seem pretty terrible, but I feel like I was great to so many people who didn’t deserve it over the years….speaking of that exact situation….so I guess it’s hard to tell how much I hate my life when I’m at a family event.

Which, of course, when I’m at any sort of family event, it’s not MY family. I do find it kind of odd, that I am never, ever around anyone who’s actually related to me. After a few years (it’s been two years, by the way, my mom and Timehop confirmed it)  you start feeling like…idk I guess an exile or an immigrant who knows they’ll never visit home (like they can’t because their shit’s expired – read We Need New Names by NoViolet Bulawayo if you wish to understand this sensation put forth by an author with…idk talent I guess). I’m not trying to say I know exactly what motherless people feel like, I don’t, I know she’s at least alive and functioning (I won’t say alive and well exactly) and I do get to communicate with her. But, you don’t think I think about it sometimes…about how if say she did pass away at a younger age (she’s 59, 30 years older than me) you don’t think these two years of zero contact won’t haunt me? But not in the way a mistake would haunt me, but in a “why did it end up like this?” sort of attitude.

Which I guess that’s kind of how a loser would think – like your life doesn’t “end up” any certain way, MOST of your shit is the result of conscious decisions.

I get not everything is. Before you start freaking out. It wasn’t my fault or doing that I was born into a family with two arguably mentally ill parents. My brother’s existence ensured I never bore the brunt of anything (except my mom’s mental anguish, which she was always heaping on me any chance she had, which was a lot), and my Grandma helped a lot of my life be easier/more normal/more enjoyable. BUT I was set at a huge disadvantage in a way that wouldn’t really be obvious to me until I was in my late twenties. And really that only came about because I was with my husband for so long by that point. If I’d continued to waste my time and emotions on useless fuckboys (like I love to do, I know) I have NO clue how I would be, or how aware of my shortcomings I would be. Some people (like my terrible father) never get the chance to right their wrongs, so to speak. I mean, it does take some measure of humility to realize that you’re obsessed with being fucked up because there’s SO much you can’t bear to think about. And it doesn’t matter what is or isn’t your fault, at the end of the day. Because random (terrible) shit is going to happen, so just focus as much as you can on what you CAN control. Which, I learned by like 28, includes your ability to express emotions.

So I got up at 8:30 after going to bed at 3am (by going to bed I mean straight up almost passing out on the couch after sharing a blunt with my husband. It is so weird getting nicotine in me now, I used to be such a heavy smoker…thanks Chantix). I needed to get the things I usually do Sunday evening done. The idea of leaving them until after we get back fills me with anxiety. Why put off something annoying when you can do the annoying thing and therefore not be annoyed by it? Why are you prolonging this feeling of being annoyed by this thing you must do? You’ve lost me. Procrastinating is NOT a thing for ol’ Cassie-  I’m Type A in certain ways, my emails are up to date and filed correctly, none of this “1,390 unread emails” ish like my husband. So now that my Monday work outfit is hanging on the designated hook, and my lunch is packed, and the trash and recycling are on the curb, I realized I had time to bitch about my ruined day off.

I guess I wouldn’t have done much of note anyway, but when you get so few days off…it’s obnoxious to be like oh no I definitely want to spend 4 hours in a car as the bread of a family time sandwich. With the two least alike sister in laws a bitch like me could get. I guess I should feel grateful they’re both a decade or so older, it makes it easier somehow. At the same time, my brother is obviously never going to marry, so my only shot at a cool friend-type sister in law was through marrying…and that did NOT work out for me. It’s not their fault, obviously. And I think landing a boyfriend then fiance then husband whose parents bankrolled your super bougey wedding and paid all/most of your rent for…5+ years….


Yeah I should just shut the fuck up.

I’m not saying I can be bought. but there’s a certain level of generosity that I’m going to match with subservient politeness, it’s very much in my nature. It’s one of the reasons I’m a good employee.


But I guess I just wanted to talk about it…and…as if I haven’t mentioned my lack of friends by this point. I sometimes find it hard to fill one hour long lunch break with conversation with work friend. She has this really odd pattern with guys, where she starts dating a guy she isn’t that into….she sees him a few times a week but they mostly just sleep together (both meanings). She literally said she doesn’t know that much about him last Friday, yet they’ve been hanging out 3+ times per week (usually just getting meals then banging, reminds me of R and I, except I had to pay for everything) and banging and stuff. I’m not judging that but I’m kind of like ~what~ towards her whole “I just get attached to them after spending a ton of time with them and I don’t even realize it.” I was like…in my head…okay so doesn’t that equate to “I don’t really like him, I’m just going to get used to the comfortability of having a man around.” Which I mean there are benefits. Someone to go out to eat with (excuse for more excessive eating and drinking, doesn’t encourage the far healthier habit of cooking for yourself, believe me i know) and an automatic date to things you wouldn’t want to do alone, like movies or concerts or whatever, also a source of sex, which if he’s good at it, could be worth it in and of itself. BUT at the same time…I don’t know I don’t feel like she wants to be with anyone besides her first boyfriend. I could be wrong but I feel like she’s still definitely obsessed with him. I do not understand her issue at this point. But, I was lucky to find my husband at a young age, and she definitely has her issues, but they’re also so different from mine.

If I had more time, I’d get into the WEIRD sort of…hmmm I’ve never had to articulate it…it’s like you can tell there’s something emotionally brittle about her…and then you hear the story about how her dad bailed on her, her sister, and their mom and moved across the country and married a younger woman and had another daughter with her, then he passed away I think 5-10 years ago due to a heart problem. All the while her mom still feels attached to her husband and like she could never be with another man because she’s still somehow keeping to those marriage vows. I’m not trying to insult her decisions, but that reminds me of my mom…like lady, you’re choosing to be unhappy. You can do that I guess, but just acknowledge that’s what you’re doing. THEN, her few years older sister, she marries a guy she went to high school with, they didn’t date then. He’s a suspiciously hot Mexican guy, they have two children, then he comes out as gay and divorces the sister. Work friend gets recalled from her newly founded like in another state about halfway across the country to help recently divorced sister with her two very young kids. A few years after that her sister is engaged to a guy and pregnant with his kid, but he ended up trying to use her to get a green card, and he had MANY other children with many other women whom he didn’t financially support, so the idea that he would help with this one was absurd. Now, in real time, the sister is pregnant again with a different man’s baby. BUT, if things work out with her and baby daddy #3, it’ll be all good. The first two kids will obviously be from her first marriage, and everyone will assume the second two are her second husband’s. If they marry. It’s so easy to work out the lives of other’s in your mind. Instead of your own. What irritates me is how much my work friend is used as a free babysitter for her sister’s mess of children. I mean I guess it’s awesome she gets to be a part of their lives, but I also kind of really feel like she resents it deep down and she wants to have a life of her own with her own kids.

But I guess that’s not my issue. But Idk, all that bullshit I always go on about how the damaged love the damaged, it’s true, and we also can so easily recognize one another – no? So, I tend to stay interested. Plus she’s one of the few people who knows about the situation with my family. The twins know, and my husband’s at least close family members, and work friend. That would be it besides the members of my family. And I guess whomever may read this on WordPress.


Speaking of – what are the exact legal terms for blogging? Being an English student for so long, it made me feel pretty aggressive about copyrighting and such, so…I guess I should find a FAQ around here.

With that I am off to waste a beautiful Sunday I could have spent getting high and writing or playing Pokemon X. But instead i get to be scrutinized by people I have varying degrees of dislike towards.


But I also need to look like in the million pictures sure to come…so…time’s a wasting.



Since they were less than half-finished

Yeah the idea that I could make a point in 30 minutes and less than a thousand words seems crazy to me. Haven’t done that shit since undergrad, the early part of undergrad. That was one cool thing about my Masters, there were NO exams. Why would you give Masters literature students exams to make sure they were doing the reading? The point of the degree was doing the fucking reading.

My first thought for my lunchtime blog (which a salad only take so long to eat and I get an unpaid hour so you better believe I refuse to work for free during my lunch break so strap in for these) today was to talk about how the only people I have if I were to compose a list of friends, are the following:
1) Current coworker friend – the one I get lunch with on Friday. So sadly, no Friday lunch blogs
2) Long time best friend/MOH from wedding – the one who moved somewhat far away (4 hour drive) but is still close friend but at other times i feel like we’ve grown irrevocably distant at other times I’m like well she does still make an effort to see me when she can and it’s not her fault I’m poor as fuck and can never afford to visit (if you knew the cities we lived in my going to her instead of the opposite would make a lot of sense except when she comes back to visit her parents, still in the town we both were born in/grew up in about two hours in an opposite direction)
3) Female grad school friend – there’s only the one, really. She’s the only non-male person from grad school I ever spent time with outside of class or going out to the bar after class. That was always fun. I think that’s probably the best part, is those memories. Of course R is in a lot of them but despite that, they’re good memories. There were two other girls I liked from grad school, I tried to hang out with each of them once but it didn’t work out and I never tried again (classic me). Let’s call them the Indian one and the blonde one, if I ever need to refer back. Which, maybe. The blonde one actually comes up in an interesting story I’m not telling right now.
4) Former coworker from Terrible retail job #3 (circa 2012-2015)  – big problem with her though…we were those kind of friends who only hung out with a third person as a buffer, always the same third person (a different coworker from this same store). Now our third has moved to Kentucky so this person and I will never chill now. I mention her because she does invite my husband and I to a Halloween party every year (female grad school friend always invites us on New Years Eve, which is good because it SUCKS not having New Years plans, you feel so fucking lame) and I see her at her workplace (a different chain pet store) when I go to buy cat food, because I refuse to patronize my former workplace, I seriously HATED my life when i was there. It sucked. No apologies for the truth. But I guess there were a few good coworkers.
5) Three pet store friends – okay these are the ones I worked with for a varied 3-7 years at a family owned pet store chain. All three of them are now having their second kid, living in their home town. One is a preschool teacher and I swear to fuck she’s never had a hard day in her life. She’s very nice, and she was kind to me a few times when NO ONE else was. But sometimes I’m like *scoff* I’d be happy if my life was just a succession of dreams coming true and HUGE/constant familial love and support TOO. But that’s just my inner bitter bitch. I know. I just can’t make it leave. Another of this friend trio is a secretary at a doctor’s office. Her sister got her the no-college-degree-required job, which is good because this friend failed out of one semester of community college then never tried again. The third friend works as a secretary at a veterinarian. She’s married to a guy she dated in high school (oh wait, that’s also true of preschool teacher friend, like straight up high school sweethearts. like. what?) and had to take an extra semester to graduate from high school. I guess the way I’m talking about them makes me seem like a condescending cunt. Again. I know. Maybe I’m just jealous that they’re having this like super normal, stereotypical life and that’s what we’ve been programmed to want, and like I should feel like the odd one out but I seriously would NOT want their lives for anything. I guess because if I picture having stayed in my hometown and having kids when everyone else started doing it (I swear that’s why some people have kids, because their friends are and they don’t want to feel left out/behind) like…I AM NOT exposing any children I have to my dad. My mom, of course, my brother, eh, I wouldn’t trust him with their lives but he’s not like a horrible person. He’s you know a heroin addict and selfish like a fucking three year old, always has been don’t say it’s the drugs. I knew that boy was fucked from the beginning. Probably something our dad did. Well probably definitely that. And you know what, three pet store friends all have normal, healthy, happy relationships with their parents. Vet secretary friend’s mom is REALLY proactive in her kid’s lives too. Like she had wicked bad postpartum depression after her first kid, so for like two months after she brought her baby home her mom came over and cooked them dinner because my friend was so depressed she could barely stand to get out of bed to breastfeed. And this is NOT me saying anything negative about postpartum because I KNOW it is REAL and scary, this isn’t that. This is me being self-centered and pointing out to myself that if I were in this scenario, I would NOT have a mother coming over and cooking us dinner every night for eight weeks. Especially not my mother. And I know to a lot of people it’s stupid but I think about how if I got pregnant right now…I don’t even think I would get to have my mom at my baby shower….or she’d had to lie and sneak around. I don’t know it’s just so fucked up. I just ignore it and go with the temporary solution, you know like Ma taught. I email her every day. I make it part of my “must get done as soon as I get home OR ELSE” list. It obviously has to be sent during her workday for her to see it. So, even though babies and baby things are SO cute…eh….I feel like my SHITTY work and school schedule ruined wedding planning for me…do I have to let my shitty family situation ruin kids for me? Plus like…80% of the time I don’t think I want children but am I just thinking that because I know I have time to change my mind? And changes happen, you can feel differently than you did three years ago it’s not the craziest thing ever. I’m not talking like about your lover, I mean like…about where you want to live or what kind of job you want to have.

That’s it. Those are ALL of my friends. Then, the only other people with any sort of connection to me are my husband’s relatives. And honestly I doubt most of them care for me. Which, okay, sure, my husband and I did get into a HUGE fight at the family reunion….because we were both way drunk and coming down from snorting Adderall. We didn’t get into the fight in front of anyone…but okay they’re REALLY conservative, so because we weren’t married I had to share a hotel room with his female cousins….so when I went outside to have a screaming conversation with my husband, they noticed I was gone. They were pretty weird about asking where I was…maybe they thought we’d snuck off to have sex. if only. And there were other times at this same reunion that we were just shitfaced. But idk. I try to be nice. But being around those people makes me want to abuse prescription drugs. I can’t explain it except to say that it feels, being around them, exactly like being around the church environment I was in as a kid because I got sent to private school because we lived in a shitty enough area to have shitty public schools. It’s the same exact denomination and predominant cultural mix (mostly German with other white western European races sprinkled gingerly throughout) so it’s extra creepy for me. But it makes sense, because my husband is a bit of the goofball/black sheep (he lost his shit when he was wasted at the last reunion we went to, he made his kid nephew cry. It was a shitshow. A SHITSHOW) so why would they not feel like he’d married some drunken slutty trashy ghetto girl. Idk how they reconcile the positives about me.


Which, also I thought of this between lunch and leaving work (AKA my unproductive time), I know I seem like I’m obsessed with my appearance. I guess it’s kind of true, but there’s also like a lot of other things I’m more obsessed with. I’m more into my cat Oscar. He is the best. I’ve had him for 12 years now, so it’s not hard to pinpoint why the emotional attachment it there. I honestly am very grateful and happy to have had him be  part of my life through some TOUGH fucking times/transitions. You can make fun of me for being so weird about a cat, do your worst I’m sure I’ve heard it, but NOTHING has been the same over those years, not my virginity status, number of lovers, boyfriends, home, city of dwelling job, marital status, college-graduate-level status, hair color, car, level of interaction with parents, ALL of it has changed drastically over the years. I’ve guess I’ve always thought of myself as a “pretty writer” then I would draw a carat with “smart” interjected between those two words. That’s me. To a T.

So, honestly, when I picture some future book release party, I have such a short guest list it’s humiliating. I guess all of my friends would have a plus one, but that’s it. But those are the only women I know whom I can stand.

Wait okay, I should mention that best friend has a twin, so by some odd default I’ve remained friends with her twin, the twin was a bridesmaid in my wedding and to this day I’m impressed she pulled through. She isn’t known for doing that. BUT I at least personally acknowledge that we wouldn’t have any contact at all if I weren’t such good friends with her twin sister. I do like her as a separate person and everything, but I just felt like post high school she was kind of too busy making/having new friends rather than trying to keep up with me, from the 8th grade. But I try not to take it personally. Best friend is by far much more stubborn a human being I think that’s why we’re such good friends, the things we have in common are what molded our personalities the most. Or so I’ve observed thus far.

I want to go on, for you can see that I’m lonely. But who would read this far?

No matter, I suppose. Just like anything else. I think when I stopped thinking in absolutes, that’s when the nihilistic spirit really set in, but in a much lighter way than that word connotates. Like I’ve coined before, I’m a cynical optimist (ex: at least the proverbial half-empty-half-full glass isn’t completely empty). You acknowledge the shitty, shitty realities of your life…but you do it in whatever sarcastic or fucked up manner you need to. Express yourself, bitch. Me? I drink (mostly beer but I do like vodka now and again) I smoke constant weed. Like constant. I don’t even want to talk about the full depths of this shit. I painted for awhile but then the tedium started outweighing the joy, like things do when their novelty wears off. Same with freestyle cross-stitching and jewelry making. I think I just like hobbies that are aesthetically pleasing to shop for. I write…obviously. This word press is just for when I don’t feel like working on actual work. Because…idk I guess this is probably what people feel like when they diet and exercise regularly, but for me it’s mental relief through writing. Like literally headache pain relief because I’m not repressing ALL the things. That’s why these are so long. Like literally the one worry I’ve never had is running out of shit to say. Sometimes I’m like what if I can’t come up with another book idea after this first one? I mean I can try and draw it out into a series. But. Idk.

I certainly don’t believe in the muses, but my inspiration certainly comes and goes. It has never not been this way. Like I said, I’d say certainly by age ten I was writing full novels. In the 8th grade I sent one into a publisher and they said they wanted to print it, but I was convinced it was just a money scam so I don’t even think to look into  it further. But honestly….I was writing 100-300 page murder mystery novels in the 7th and 8th grade. I feel like I should’ve been more encouraged or some shit. But in my dad’s eyes, not being actively discouraged is the same as being encouraged. From what I take it his dad was one mean motherfucker. Maybe the people who read them and said they liked them were only humoring me. Who knows. They’re long lost either way.

Well, over the course of this composure, I’ve grown quite drunk (can you tell?) so I seriously need to go eat before I vomit.



Half finished thoughts

This morning more than anything I was distracted by the concept that the older I get the more obvious my inability to make friends is.

I thought of this bc my only female friend from grad school messaged me to set up dinner plans for a week from today. These things do not happen often in my life. This girl is definitely so high on the awkward scale she might have a mild version of autism. I’m not trying to be mean, I don’t mind the incredibly weird silences and pauses. I can’t stand other women if I think they’re a waste of intelligence (i.e. They bought into the girls shouldn’t be smart dynamic) or if they’re a bitch to me. And grad school female friend is certainly neither of those. She’s from the WASPY part of the east coast so I was shocked to find I never feel like I’m being condescended at with her. 

It made me realize how deficient I am at drawing friends in. Beyond school chums (there aren’t many) and work buddies there’s my husband. Which, I am infinitely grateful that I have him in my life, I feel like things would feel pointless without him. This isn’t to say everyone needs to find the same fulfillment in a romantic relationship but that’s how it happened for me. I spent my whole life lonely, kind of waiting for the person to shove all these unprocessed feelings at. I am REALLY lucky I am attractive enough to draw in men. Could you imagine if someone was as fucked as me but also wasn’t pretty? Like OMG there’d be no hope of ever connecting with anyone. My husband wanted to be with me (at first) bc I was much better looking than anyone he’d ever dated before that. Great I needed someone who seemed like the EXACT opposite of my dad. 
Ugh end of lunch break, I literally didn’t even mean to fulfill my blog title’s destiny, but here we are. And here I go.


It took me too long to think of this 

I’m unsure what happened, but I have nearly half my lunch break left to do nothing with. I’m reading EM Forster so beginning a chapter now would be unwise. 

I realized there was a word press app, and I could post from my phone, last week. Which is good because I find I can’t write on here and on my own work. I only have the time between arriving home from work and starting dinner, however long that is. Sometimes it’s four hours sometimes it doesn’t happen at all. Again, I feel like I would never ever make the time to write if I had kids. I barely do it now. Well I do but it’s low priority. It has to be.

There’s a joy I feel regarding repetition and routine that I find most are disgusted by. But there are worse things than tedium and boredom, when you know them well you kind of lose that frame of reference. The good nights when I was a kid were the quiet ones. If you can imagine, I despise the people who have a tv or radio on for “background noise.” I lived with a roommate who HAD to fall asleep to the TV. To me that’s a telltale sign someone has issues or deficiencies they’re not addressing. But I understand I’m oddly opinionated.

It’s hard to start a post and not somehow digress into upsetting topics. But it would be unwise to do so right now.  I get angry enough sometimes just thinking about certain things at work. It’s nice to be distracted by my own thoughts. Which is really all I’ve ever needed, a thought distraction. It can be a dark unpleasant place, inside some minds. You can claim you know how to change but…well….does that ever change? Besides destroying it with substances, what else can we really do about the memories that haunt us?

The answer is help others, I know. And I agree. I’m like 6 steps away from that. Alas, no spare time, like I said.