Observations of a Quixotic Femme Noire __One Percent - 1%__ Warrior-woman; a Valkyrie. I'll always be yours. Always...and never.



Are You HOT or NOT?

Lyrics Search

ArtistTitle

ARCHIVES
04.2001 05.2001 06.2001 07.2001 08.2001 09.2001 10.2001 11.2001 12.2001 01.2002 03.2002 04.2002 05.2002 06.2002 07.2002 08.2002 09.2002 11.2002 01.2003 03.2003 04.2003 05.2003 08.2003 03.2004 04.2004 05.2004 07.2004 11.2004 12.2004 01.2005 02.2005 03.2005 04.2005 05.2005 06.2005 07.2005 08.2005 09.2005 10.2005 11.2005 12.2005 01.2006 02.2006 04.2006 05.2006 10.2006 11.2006 01.2007 02.2007 06.2007 07.2007 08.2007 11.2007 12.2007 05.2008 09.2008 10.2008 11.2008

I'm tired of the bullshit.
My dude keeps saying that he's going to quit smoking. He says it all the time.
Then he quits for a week, maybe 3 and then he goes back to smoking.
But not just one or two here or there.
He smokes fuckin' half a pack or more a day.
I'm getting frustrated and very angry.
He buys cigarettes that we can't afford for him to buy and tells me (the one who pays the bills) that he spent $8 or more on them.
We CAN'T afford this habit!
I quit smoking, mainly because I was ready. But the other reason was because we couldn't afford fuckin' $20 weekly on the habit.
And it kills!
He doesn't smoke in the house, thankfully.
But he's actually gotten to the point where he'll break off a conversation that he and I are having to go and smoke.
It makes me so sad. Shit, I'm tearing up right now.

He did this before. Told me he was quitting. This was when we were going to quit together. Then he started actin' weird. I can instantly smell cigarette smoke on him...his clothes, his hand, his lips, his neck & shoulder...all places where I'm close to him.
When I asked him, and I mean asked, I didn't angrily confront him, he jumped all over me for it...got really nasty.
I said that if we were supposed to be quitting partners, then he'd have to tell me to be support. But it was too late by then; he was smoking again.
And again.
And again and again.
I sound like a nag when I ask him how's it going with quitting...because he's sneakin' around smoking!
And it obviously doesn't matter that we don't have the money for it. And I mean that we will have just enough money after this next check to pay for Tae Kwon Do (which we just signed Guin on, she's so happy!).
I think what I'm going to do is hand him the budget and tell him to pay the bills. If I don't know the money that's going out because he's willing to buy things whether we have the dough for it or not...let him juggle what gets paid and what doesn't...I'm tired of the stress.

He just "quit" 4 weeks ago and now, he's smoking enough that he's going to be a chain-smoker. He keeps telling me that he wants to quit. And then he smokes more. Fuck's the point?!? I know he's under stress. Me too! I don't exactly feel wonderful bringing in 60% disability pay. I hate the fact that I'm not bringing in my fair share. But I was peeling hard boiled eggs this morning and my back hurt!!!
God I'm so PISSED! I'm angry about all of this. Sure, I could go and smoke cigarettes till my lungs turned black again. But that won't give us the cash that we're used to having around. Matter of fact that will just take more money out of our pockets.
He won't let me support him in this fight. He won't talk to me about it. I just get more frustrated and get very angry. That's why I'm crying now: anger.
My parent made me feel this way alot when I was a kid. Angry and frustrated. The way I work, it's easier for me to withdrawl from that person than to try and discuss it. Because when I was a kid, there was no discussion. It was just yelling or hitting by them, we were supposed to be quiet, and then frustration and anger in our room. I have to fight against that mechanism in me. When I was a kid, I thought how it wouldn't be like that once I was out of their house. Now, I can only think of how it would be alone with the kids. I'll do anything to work it out. But if he keeps shutting me out, using cigarettes to smoke his stress away...we're gonna have a rough ride these next couple of weeks/months.
I hate rough rides.
holla@me posted by MobiusRazor at 12:57

I had a class yesterday...well actually a few.
I am now certified in Infant and Child CPR as well as First Aid.

Pretty exciting. I like the fact that I could help to save a life if necessary.
I'm also lucky that now that I know this...my level head in critical situations will come of some use besides being a good witness.
I hope that I don't have to use it, but I have the knowledge, understanding and ability if someone needs it.
holla@me posted by MobiusRazor at 11:34

It had been so long since she thought of him. How he enveloped her with only a simple glance in her direction. His smile making a warmth from her toes up to her face. But she hadn't seen him. Even her dreams seemed devoid of color and magic.
Alone. Or was it lonely? Perhaps she forgot...

She had gotten so wrapped up in life that her feelings were dislocated. Staring into the breakfast of cinnamon toast for the children, she considered nothing except what she had to do. Take out the dog; clean the floor; listen to the kids bicker; rest. Drink some coffee to wash down the medicine; homeschool the boy; do a load of laundry; rest. Drive to a doctor's appointment; come home; take out the dog; clean her hands; prepare lunch for the kids... It was numbing.
An ache in the day.
A gnawing in her mind.
"What is it!?," she shouted at herself in the bedroom mirror.
Pressing her head against the silvered glass, she cries quietly.

He comes home, looking tired. She can't get upset, but she so hoped his mood would be upbeat, energetic, so she could steal some of it. She feels she's sinking. The tears well up behind her eyes. She holds them by taking a deep breath and starts to make dinner.
What continues to elude her must reveal itself soon. She needs something. Good news?
holla@me posted by MobiusRazor at 11:28