Blue Crush

Everytime I watch the move Blue Crush, it makes me wish I was someone I am not. A surfer, a hottie, the girl with perfect hair after I get out of the ocean, a girl who gets to be on the ocean. Doesn't matter. It also reminds me that I am not what I ever wanted to be right now. I love my boys, don't get me wrong, but why couldn't I have waited? I feel like I could have done great things. Better than changing diapers, cleaning constantly and not getting anywhere, sucking horribly at disipline, making food all day, wishing I was skinny for eight long, painfull years and on and on. Right now I can't see right side up. I am sure there is something good here, but i am so ass-backward I don't know which way to move to get forward again. Some say put all your energy into the boys, I can't, I won't. I know it's what they need. I am so fucking selfish i can't even give my children my attention AND THAT'S ALL THEY NEED NOW!!!!!!! I could have done so many things, instead I chose to fuck. I mean I chose to have sex, with a boy who I was lusting...(barf a little in my mouth). Freedom..... free, to do what I want, any old ti-i-i-ime. Working just to pay the rent and the rest goes to my fabulous hobby. No kids, no responsibility. Fuck, I am thirty and what have I done? Birthed three, half ass raised them, talked myself into loving retail, sit around a dirty house because I can't even respect my own accomplishments. Nothing. I am nobody great to anyone. I am just another person in this lonely world. I have nothing to offer to anyone except good advice that I won't even take for myself. Wow. Fucking hypocrite. So I am having a pity party...over a movie, so what? At least I do that well. I actually don't own this movie because I would be on anti-depressants if I did. So where to go from here. It's not one of those you got yourself in, now get yourself out deals. It is kids, they are here FOR-fucking-EVER!! They are mine to love and (gulp) mold into fine people or crafty criminals. I have often thought of taking them out of school and teaching them on the road for a year or five. They could read books, sing and scrounge for money. Could I really work my ass off, save enough to get us somewhere cool for a while, then get a shitty job once I am there to support us in the pop-up? Probably. I might even be able to sell stuff I make right? Haha, now i am full of shit. I mean a kid has to have some roots, someplace to call home. I have such an urge to flee, just GO. Take them and find a new life. Something amazing. But amazing to me may not be amazing to them. It is always a question of fucking the boys up. Then there is HIM, but this blog is about my delusional fantasies. (sleeping naked, no morning breath, amazing sex, to name a few others previously blogged). I want to break free of this traditional domestic bondage. It's not me. It wears on me like an 80's tafita prom dress, two sizes to large. Just gross. Worse than that, I do NOT want to wake up old and ask myself *who am I? what the hell happed to MY life*. So the solution is to wake up from this terrible nightmare called life and figure shit out. Baby steps? Full-on put-it-out-there shit? I have been thinking of writing all my secrets on paper and depositing them into books at the bookstore. Liberating myself from them and I do have ALOT. It works for some people, why not me? I was able to give up all food (basically), biting my nails, false security of marriage, and so many other things. Why can't I give up my half ass dreams until they are grown up? I think it's because I don't have any. Or really any attainable. Some would say that is why they are dreams, not goals. I don't draw that line. I can make a dream a goal, then a reality, but I have to have a clear vision of what I want to accomplish. And I don't. What will my end results be? Idealism is what I work with. Do I even exist in my life or is my head in the clouds until the shit hits the fan and I need to come back down? (That was like a two cliche sentence. Rad.) One time, I talked HIM into subletting the apartment for the summer and living on the lake with the baby, A1, and working shitty jobs so we could be out in the sun and on the lake twenty four sevn. It didn't work, we got into more debt and I hated my job and the babysitter. I haven't done anything like that since. Fear? More likely lack of motivation to pick myself up off the floor after I fuck up again. Do I know the difference between TV and real life? Sure, but who doesn't want a blue crush life?