Who am I?

I don't feel like I know anymore. I'm doing things that I never thought I would...and not because I didn't think I'd be able...but because I thought better of myself.

Yesterday...was the icing on the cake. When I finally lay my head down on my pillow to go to sleep this morning at 1AM... I just thought, "What on earth have I done...?"

This is vague as hell, but I've never been so ashamed of something I've done that I don't even want to tell the story that goes along with it...and it IS a fun story....but the end is a little unnerving...

Fuck...I need to find myself. I need to go away.


Saying Goodbye

I'm probably going to scrap this one...maybe recycle it... I never write here anymore.

I'm always writing letters, though.

Come visit, my little cupcakes.


Out of Necessity

I look over at him--hat backwards, mouth set in a tight, closed-lip grin, hunkered down behind the "windshield"-"so that my eyelashes don't flap in the wind", he says-- and I laugh out loud.
We were going to get ice.

I climbed over in the boat, and as my brother untied from the pier, the rope came loose.

I was floating away...

He looks at the rope hanging in his hand. "Well, Kimmie... You ready to learn how to drive a boat?" "Ready or not!" I yelled back.

When someone asked if he thought I could do it, he responded, "She's got no choice."

He talked--or rather hollered--me through it, I made it safely back to the pier.
It's been years since I've been on the lake, and I have the ghostly white legs to prove it, but as we passed by my great aunt's camp-the old rickety pier with the faded blue slide-I was taken back to all the summers we spent there.

I was young--I can't even venture to guess an age--and if I got into the water, I had on my ever-faithful floaties. This also meant than an adult had to be in the water with me...so when they tired of swimming, out I came, and I was put in charge of keeping the slide wet so the other kids didn't stick to it on the way down.

I'd set to work--filling a pitcher from the lake, climbing the slide, pouring the water down the slide, dismount and repeat.

I'm not sure what I was thinking the day that I climbed the slide, poured the water, and followed--belly side to the slide--down into the lake.  No floaties.

I'm pretty sure, however, that was the day I learned how to swim...at least enough to keep my head above water.
I flash on these memories in the seconds it takes for the boat to get far enough away that the pier blends into so many others-and I couldn't help but smile as I watched the lake fly by through wind-blown eyelashes.


Game Over

...It's been fun. Childish, yes...but so much fun.

It was a game to see if I could make you insane... I'm not sure that it was me, so much, or if you just are... either is a great possibility. It was funny because people "egged it on", and went along with it.  (You know how little kids are...when they are being mean to people...if they have other kids laughing and agreeing with them, they continue to do it... It's amazing how much stuff from childhood carries over throughout adulthood...)

I pretended to be your friend. I pretended to like you. I did it...partially out of respect for him (you know...my not being a bitch)...partially, because I knew you didn't like me...but somehow, you wouldn't be mean unless I was... I dunno. (All part of the fun & games.) Perhaps we are (scarily) more alike than it might first seem.

That was being two faced. Pretending.

Recently, I decided I wouldn't pretend anymore. I couldn't pretend anymore. So...I was real...-ish. However, the tension was so thick, you could have cut it with a knife. It made things difficult for everyone. So, I figured I could tone it down...just a little.

I don't like you. I never really have. I don't like what you are doing to my friend. He's not the same person...you know...when you're around and when you're not. I worry about him. That's my "mama cat syndrome".

However, it's not my place... if he says he's happy with things the way they are... then all that should matter is that he says he's happy. He's a good kid and I love him, so I suppose I have to respect that and all that it implies. I still don't like you.

Game over.

"Being nice to someone you
don't like is not being two-faced.
It's called being a grown up."


I have a song...

My cupcakes bring all the boys to the yard.
Damn right, they're better than yours.
I could teach you....but I'd have to charge.

*takes a bow*

I'd like to thank my cousin for "re-writing" that song for me... I dedicate it...to the girl who wants to be me. :)


Lurking in the shadows

I know you're out there. I can see you. You aren't very sneaky, child.

Ya know...I've never rarely made it a point to try and hide anything I put online. I try not to make it readily available to people that I don't want seeing it...but that's just a matter of not advertising it. If there is anything that is a secret, I tend to keep it off of the Internet. That's the only smart thing to do...right?

Granted...I do have a few blogs that are completely hidden...the only way you can get to them is if you have the URL...but those aren't secret...just...uh...sensitive... And I'm pretty sure there are only two people (possibly...most likely only one)...that have the links to those.

Anyway...It bother's me that people that I do not like are so interested in my life. Some people that I've made a point of taking out of my life...constantly put themselves in it... "behind the scenes". They read my blog or follow my twitter, and report what they find in either, to other people in my life. These "other" people could easily have access to these things, if they so wished...but they obviously aren't interested...until you bring it up...if even then.

I always suspected that certain people were following along in my nonsensical stories of life...and one day, I got a text from my ex asking me about something that he should have technically known nothing about. Not that it was a secret...just that he should have had no way of knowing about it. And still...he mentions things that I talk about in my blog or on twitter... Of course, at this point, I'm used to it...and it's no longer a surprise... I'm just confused.

Why are you trying so hard to be in my "business"?

Shit...that wasn't even really the point of this post...not technically...

There's someone else... who's checking my stuff religiously... and it was funny at first... but now it annoys me... to no end.  Yet, there's no way to stop it because they already have the link... and they are already, obviously, addicted to me.


I can't help it because I'm awesome, I guess...