I ran 7.5 miles and then did 30 push ups earlier today. I’ll get to that in another post some other time, hopefully soonish. I’ve had my first ever ice bath, wasn’t as bad as I thought and finished my cleaning chores so I can finally sit down and write.
I had to actually vacuum my own home today and it got me thinking about cleaning. . I pay The Ladies to clean the whole thing every 3 weeks. Well, to be fair Babu pays them to do it. So other than dishes or the more than occasional disaster I flat out prefer not to clean, ever. It’s not that I mind cleaning, it does a lot for the clearing of a mind or the satisfaction of a job well done, it’s just that there are always at least 100 other things I’d rather be doing. When we didn’t have The Ladies, Babu and I split the chores we couldn’t pawn off on the kids evenly, and that division of work applies to what’s left for us even with regular The Ladies visits. I could go into an entire side bar about how much I loathe laundry, but I’m trying to stay on track here because very soon I’m getting to my point.
I have never been a neat freak. We don’t live in filth , most of the time, but I’ve been known to let dishes pile up for days and days before doing them. They aren’t going anywhere. I recently solved this problem by assigning MiniMe and the Destroyer to dish duty. Babu does 90% of the cooking because he wants to. I am a great cook but ever since he moved back in this is just how it has been and I’m certainly not going to screw myself out of that deal. The rule in our house is whoever doesn’t cook, cleans. As the kids are 6 and 9 now, and they eat the family meal, they can participate in the family chores. I’m not sending my kids out into the world with no life skills. I don’t want my future children in law glaring at me because my kids don’t know how to load or unload a dishwasher, or scrub a toilet, or fold their laundry. Houses and families don’t run themselves and they live in this house and are part of our family. One of our family rules is that everyone participates in the running of the household.
Since I’ve never been a neat freak when you come to my house you get what you get. I don’t play the do special freak out cleaning game. I don’t subscribe to the Mother or MIL is coming so the house has to be spotless crap. If they are coming to see a clean house then they can clean it if they don’t like it. Thankfully I don’t have a Mother or MIL with cleaning issues, so this has worked out well for me. In reality there are only 2 people I will go out of my way to clean for.
the first is more a set of people than a person. People who have never been to my house before because I don’t want them to think we live like pigs all the time. This way when they come back over that 2nd time and see that we actually DO live in a messy house they are more apt to forgive me because they saw the nice cleanish pretty house the first time. I have even been known, in times we don’t have maids, to clean my house but leave something uncleaned on purpose because I don’t want to set the bar too high. Like the dusting, or the mopping etc. I work, Babu works, we both have outside activities and if you’re spending too much time looking at the dust bunnies or dog prints on the floor and making judgments about that, then you are a bitch and don’t need to be in my house or in my inner circle. I will ALWAYS try to make sure the toilets are clean, the drive is shoveled and the couch is febreezed because we aren’t savages. But those 3 things are pretty much my only standards.
Except for person #2. I will go out of my way to clean for Chef Badass. Chef Badass is a professional. He likes a clean working area and does not like to cook in a messy kitchen. Our relationship has deepened over the years as he has spent more time cooking in my kitchen, but even in the early stages I tried to make sure the kitchen was presentable because I could just tell he would prefer not to cook in a mess. This means I make sure the sink is empty and clean, the stove top is clear from gunk, the counters are clear and as spotless as I can get them. He has never demanded this, but it has become a bit of an inside joke with us and at this point in our relationship he would probably tell me to get my a$$ is the kitchen and prep it properly for him. I’m not entirely doing this out of unselfish motives. His food is amazing and he is probably going to be famous some day. Famous like 4-5 star restaurant maybe even on TV famous. It started out as sucking up. If I give Chef B a great kitchen to cook in maybe he will cook for me another time beyond this one. If I give him a really clean kitchen when I walk in with enough ingredients for a DOUBLE batch of B’s and G’s and sweetly demand he comply with my desires maybe he won’t tell me to STFU. I may have mentioned previously that, and I mean this in the most love filled way possible, Chef B is kind of a dick. He is unabashedly himself, and all chefs are probably a bit of a dick, just like all surgeons are arrogant. These personality traits are almost required to be a good one. One day Chef Badass is going on to big things. We have loved and supported he and Ava G since that very first night I got her wasted on wine while she was helping him cater out Open House. One day he will have his own place, and he will command that place in whatever way he sees fit, it will flourish. My not so secret hope for this eventuality is a personal bottle of vodka in the cooler and a stool in the back with my name on it. The cute boy named Julio to fetch my Vodka and pour it for me is entirely optional. ” Chef, the crazy curly haired lady is here again.” I want to be able to walk into his place and walk right back to the kitchen because we are just that close. Truthfully, I dream of this stool/vodka combo as a little nirvana where I can escape the world and enjoy a fabulous make me whatever meal without having to worry that there are no reservations for 6+ months. I want Chef B to succeed, and I hope that when he does he remembers all those times I cleaned my kitchen and let him use my printer. 🙂
Which brings us full circle. Tonight Chef B and Ava G are coming for dinner, which Chef B is cooking. And Uncle Shaggy is coming over and bringing his new girlfriend, who has never been in my house. The Ladies don’t come until Wednesday so the house is a bit worse for wear at the moment. But I febreezed the couch, vacuumed up the dog/cat hair from the hardwoods, made MiniMe clean the guest bathroom toilet and made darn sure the kitchen was clean for Chef Badass. I hope he remembers 5 years from now that I like Ciroc Red Berry, a stool with a back and a foot rest and to hire a cute waiter named Julio.
Happy Monday Lovies! I’ve really been enjoying participating in the Photo a Day Challenge for February created by Fat Mum Slim. It’s fairly quick and easy to do because it takes a lot less time to follow a pre- ordained theme and snap a few pictures than it does to write a post. Yesterday she released the themes for March and I had to stop and think.
Am I going to keep doing this photo a day thing? I’m not a photographer by trade or hobby. I haven’t taken daily pictures since the Gonewild days and though I enjoy coming up with ways to capture the theme, it seems a little silly to keep doing it if I’m not going to grow or make it more meaningful somehow. I’m only using my iPhone and instagram even though Babu got me a new point and click camera for Christmas. Should I maybe work to get technically better at photography if I’m going to keep taking daily pics? I haven’t written nearly as much since I embarked on this project and though I like providing daily, quick content , it isn’t nearly as satisfying as sharing my writing with you. The AD story is in the reconciliation phase and isn’t going to last forever. If anything ever develops on the Paul front I would probably write about it, but this isn’t a movie and there is no big movie gesture coming so the subject is drying up and folding into my life. I’ve got plenty of other things I write about, but do I really have time to commit to pics daily and writing 2-3 times a week? I was working through all of these things in my head last night as I was falling asleep when it hit me, what if I tried to take some of the photos and after I post them for the day, expand upon them and tell a story? As it just so happens today’s photo is a perfect example of how I can do that. I’m going to tell you the story of how the phrase BGP came into my life!
About 6 years ago when The Destroyer was a tiny baby and I was much fatter I started looking for local Mommies Groups to join. Now most of these groups are predominantly for Stay at Home Mom’s, of which I am most assuredly not. So I had to find a group or groups that were working mom friendly, and it was harder than you’d think. Also once I’d find one, I had to try to work their events into my schedule, determine if there was anyone I clicked with etc. Not to mention that running a Mom’s group is pretty much a thankless job and bitches are catty, so even if I found a group I liked, it didn’t always stay in existence or active as long as I’d like. So sometimes I would be in 2 or 3 at once as I navigated my way through the world of Mommy groups.
If you only know me through reading this blog or you don’t yet know me very well in real life you may be under the mistaken assumption that I go though life with my IDGAF ( I don’t give a fuck) if you like me amour permanently on. Let me tell you this is absolutely not the case. My, and I think most girls, preference is to be liked, to click with other girls and to have that initial click grow into a meaningful relationship. The truth is not everyone can like you, nor probably should they. As I have gotten older I’ve become much more comfortable with that realization, what other people think of you does not define who you are to anyone but them. If I care about you I absolutely care about what you think, I want your honest call bullshit opinion about things. If I don’t, well you are more than welcome to your opinion and to however strong your feelings about your opinion are. I’m not about to tell you how you should feel, only that if you’re hating you may want to find a better more productive outlet because hating is a lot of work and it’s sad that you spend time poisoning yourself and/or others on my account.
How does this tie in with joining new mommy groups? Well duh, when you are putting your self out there to a bunch of new people, you certainly hope it is an enjoyable experience, not a sucky one. When I joined Righteous Momma’s group I went to 1 or 2 events before it became obvious that this one bitch was seriously HATING on me. As in being obviously mean and trying to be a bully directly to me. I think she was jealous or alpha or whatever, but it became a, she was causing drama about me problem, and I was the NEW GIRL!! I didn’t let her bully me, but I didn’t get in the bitches face either because I was the new girl. I won’t go into the drama bitchy girl details, but the way it worked out was Righteous Momma called me or we ended up at an event where Bitchy wasn’t there and all the details came out. Turns out Bitchy had been causing a lot of other drama as well and Righteous reserved judgement on me until she got to know me better, and when she did she liked me. She is a prime example of fearlessly be yourself and she recognized that in me. She also recognized my BGP attitude. So Bitchy left the group and I stayed and made some friends I still have today . Her group fizzled but one of its main tenants was basically no drama and no bull shit. Put on your Big Girl Panties and own it. It was like God shined down from heaven and put words on how I think we all should conduct ourselves. I adopted the mantra and I have been seeking to live it to the fullest ever since. I can’t remember if I or Righteous added Big Boy Boxers to that mantra but I have ingrained it into my life and I seek to spread it to others as much as possible. Nothing bad can come from putting on the BGP and owning it. And if something bad does come of it, you will get through it, but it all starts with finding them, putting them on and seeking the fullest extent of ownership you are currently capable of. The flip side of that is learning to still love and forgive yourself when you can’t find them, or don’t want to put them on. We all go through times like that. Just keep trying 🙂 ❤
Love you Righteous Momma and now I have given you the rightful credit for bringing the mantra into my life!
I didn’t have this nice little Date and Time combo on my radar until my old co-worker and FB buddy MMA pointed it out. It’s the perfect combo for a date post, and since it in November, the month of thankfulness, here are 11 people and things I am thankful for.
- God: For all those times random bits of money show up in my mailbox just when I need them. For staying near me during the worst parts of my life and for being there in the little moments of joy. For answering prayers and for creating the world I get so much enjoyment from. For allowing me to learn lessons on my own schedule and for not leaving me during the process. For the Moon, sunshine, wind, rain and oceans. For creating nature and animals in all of their glory and wonder.
- MineMe and The Destroyer: For thinking I hung the moon no matter how many mothering mistakes I make. For their fierce independence and attitude. For their sense of humor and their love for each other. For little bony bodies wrapped around mine in caterpillar hugs. The joy of seeing the little people they are becoming as they make their own way in the world of school and friends. Even for the sometimes feels like constant whining, fighting and pokiness when we are in a hurry. Because it means they are here, with me, to drive me crazy. For the times they surprise me with a new way they process and react to something. For the way they make me laugh, the way they make me cry, even the way they push me to scream and yell. For family time snuggles on the couch. They are wise beyond their years, they are intelligent, funny, genuine, sweet and learning to be responsible. They are both growing into fine people and I am so very proud to be their Mother. For their love.
- The Husband: For doing the work on himself so we could realistically work on us. For knowing all the nooks and crannies of my soul and loving me anyway. For taking the time with me to craft this new portion of our life together with thought and purpose. For the way it feels when he calls me “Beautiful Girl”. The way he chooses to serve us as a Father, co-provider, chef, taxi driver, date night planner, garden helper. For the times he goes way out of his way to be a hero to our kids, finding creative ways to retrieve lost treasures, tinker with and fix ride-ons and gaming systems. For keeping our home netwrok humming and me in shows and music. For morning snuggles and long talks. For learning to appreciate my love of outdoors, for being tall, dark and hairy! For his ability to calm all of us. For his love and loyalty.
- Bad Gurls: Lefty: For Lefty’s one liners out of nowhere that send you to the floor in tears of laughter. For her ability to sum things up in ways and communicate them in a manner that gets the point across but doesn’t judge you. For teaching me to just breathe, to not beat myself up so much, for being my sounding board on matters of conscience. For her voice of reason, for her countless hysterical stories. For her loyalty and love. One-eye: For One-Eye’s ability to laugh at herself and at the rest of us. For the way she served her family way beyond the call of duty and still finds joy in doing it. For the way she listens, for the way she loves, for her beautiful humanness, her capacity to forgive others endlessly. For her ability to be dirty and raunchy and also perfectly respectable. For the giving nature. For her loyalty and love
- SIL: For stepping out of my life as graciously as she could when I was divorcing her brother and coming back in first and with open heart and arms when we started putting things back together. For all our lengthy heart felt emotional and vulnerable garage talks. For making me laugh and smile. For trading concerts with me as my concert buddy. For being there while things were falling apart, she knew more truth than The husband at a lot of points, for being there as they got put back together. For being there for her brother and my kids while we were separated. For being an A-hole so I can be the B-hole.
- Dr. Dre: for his long term friendship. for the countless ours of joint therapy we provide each other. For being my confidant, me sometimes enable, my checkpoint and a male POV. For getting it, for no topic ever being off limits. Foe knowing how my mind works, when to push and when to leave it be.
- Shorty: For allowing me into her her life that one random GNO night and opening up and talking about her experiences, for sharing her secrets. For spending time shopping, or getting pedi’s. For the fun we have while out galavanting in the bar districts. For her shortness nest to my tallness, for her constant smile and easy laugh. for her taste in wine and vodka!
- MiniBoobs: For being able to pick up where we left off, no matter how much time has passed. For her design and decor sense of taste, so different than mine, but so her and so sophisticated. For willingness to openly share the foibles of her life and for the role she played during the almost divorce, letting me cry, letting me scream. For telling me that I wasn’t crazy. For her love and loyalty.
- Besties: For ALL my besties, they bring so much joy into my life. They teach me about resilience, and strength. Because they are good friends, mothers, wives. For the hell we raise together and the dissapointments and battles and burdens they share and gain strength from. For the love they show and they wisdom they share. For their love and loyalty
- MUSIC: Oh music. For all the artists who create the songs that move me. For touring so I can see them live. For making music I can dance, jump, shout, cry and rejoice with.
- Running: I haven’t been doing it much lately, but it is the single best thing I can do for myself on a regular basis besides appreciate the moment.
Yes, I know it’s Thursday. Life very much got in the way of getting the Almost Divorce story back on track. Life will be in the way until Tuesday. On Tuesday I have two glorious days off for me. I’ll be running my 2nd Half Marathon in 2 days and then immediately going on a family trip.
I’m going to need those two days and I have a massage, a facial and lots of writing time planned. I’m sort of at a crossroads with the AD story. My feelings about the subject evolve as I share more and more. My feelings about the subject evolve as I receive positive, constructive, and hateful feedback. I’ve been a little stuck; not from an oh its too hard to write emotionally standpoint, we are way past that nonsense. It’s more writers block from a where to take the story next standpoint. I honestly think I need to sit down and print it out and read it the old fashioned way from part 1 to part 9, which has been in edit mode for over a month.
I sometimes worry as I tell it if I’m doing it well enough, being fair enough to everyone involved, being graceful enough about PJ, owning enough etc… Whenever I feel this way, or whenever I get hateful feedback I have to ask myself just one question. And that is, is this ME… Am I fearlessly being myself?
Yes I am. This week that came at a cost of my children no longer having a church their Mother feels welcome in. Which means they no longer have a church. It also means that the 3 years of work I put into my family and The Husband to find a church we could agree on, actually get up and go, have the kids like it and then get brave enough to volunteer and serve in is ruined. It means that the fight I put into making sure my Divorce Decree said I was able to take my kids to church every Sunday in spite of whose week it was, was wasted.
And they did it the the most cliched, this is why people hate Christians and The Church way.
I was told a BLOG is not the best way to work through issues, the church as an organization must be protected and I need to stop serving in any capacity.
Now I was never told what about this blog/me is the danger. I’m just lobbing a slow one over the fence and guessing it’s the AD story. But really, in light of the judgement it could be the vodka, the cussing, the sex stories of my youth, maybe the music I listen to. Who knows and I’m not wasting time worrying about it. I got my boobs out on the internet and then discovered that is a BAD idea and leads to MUCH BIGGER problems which are also not good. I sinned, recovered, was forgiven, learned from it and then started sharing with others. Yes, it’s intense, it’s way personal. a friend pointed out this week that it is my ministry to others.
But they aren’t kicking me out , they still want us to come. And they would be happy to help me with my recovery process in any way. I’m the one choosing to feel this way ( unwelcome/kicked out) about what they did.
They tried to shame me, but it didn’t work. I carried around shame about my actions during and after for far too long. I haven’t had that shame in awhile because God, The Husband and I have all forgiven me. As far as the rest, well, it’s me shrugs. Fearlessly being myself, I choose to feel unwelcome in that house of worship and never go back. It’s a loss for me for sure, it’s a loss for my family. I cried, like a lot. But I’m not ashamed.
Lovies, my commitment to myself is that I will come away next Thursday being at least 2 weeks ahead again on the Almost Divorce story. Have a safe and Wonderful Labor Day weekend and GOD bless you!!
One-eye requested a story about my lost loves. I’m super busy traveling up north this week for work, so I’m giving it to you a night early. I don’t really have a “THE ONE that got away” story. I have a still trying to figure out what the hell happened to me story, but you’re getting that in bits on Thursdays. When I was younger if I felt at the time of impact that the particular ending of any boy and I made him THE ONE; then time has since delivered the sweet clarity that maturity and changed perspective bring. I was a girl prone to often thinking the guys I thought I loved were all going to be THE ONE. I’ve become well practiced at loving and losing. Landing and learning to get back out there, preferably with some further insight on what not to do next time. I have mentioned before I have to learn lessons the hard way…right?
I may not have a THE ONE, but I do have one, and only one regret boy wise. This boy was the lost opportunity to love, the never to have loved at all. Sliding doors of the universe not aligning because of a bad choice I made. I still remember the last moment I saw him, walking away from me crossing the street late one night in the bar district. I was looking back over my right shoulder and he was wearing a dark colored shirt, he had dark hair. He had just looked at me shook his head a tiny bit and turned around to walk away. I don’t even remember his name but I still remember our story…
I was out in the bar district at about the age of 23. Let me think, this was after my first real heartbreak, it was the spring after Texas went home but before I started dating Mick. I had at least two of my Mu Rho Delta (Men R Dicks) girls with me. I had driven, and we had been on tour of the bars and dancing. This is the same summer we are getting into bars for free and without waiting in line b/c I am fucking I mean dating The Bouncer. Walk right up to the front of your line with your girlfriends. Look him sweetly in the eyes and say “Hey”. He looks back says how many with you tonight and swoosh, everybody in. That’s right, he remembers the hot tub. The other girls in line do not like this, I’m long past caring.
I’m long past caring b/c this is the 2nd or 3rd club of the night. We always start out at Bar 1, because it’s $1 you call its until 10PM. We always stay till after 10PM. Then we move to BAR 2 to dance and drink more, usually a combo of shots with a drink. Purple Hooters and Jack and Diet Coke days for Lola lovies. The Bouncer worked at either Bar 2 or Bar 3. They were all owned then by the same guy and he rotated. At some point in time we end up back at Bar 1. I don’t know if we had previously met the guys in the group my guy came from and had been hanging out with them or if they just walked by at the right moment. All I know is I was outside sitting on the curb, probably in a skirt, and had my head between my legs because I DID NOT feel well. You know how every group of friends has the Tucker Max one? The one that just gets as drunk as she wants and does whatever she wants. The ditch your friends for a dude girl? That was often, but not always, me. I’m not proud of some of the choices I made in bars in that time period, but they sure led to some adventures. I haven’t had that many one night stands ( college doesn’t count right??) and of the ones I’ve had I’ve never woken up anywhere strange or not remembered where I was supposed to be or who I was supposed to be with. I’m sitting on the curb trying not to puke, I didn’t puke often, and he comes up beside me. As I remember he volunteered to drive me home in my car to my apartment. My friends discuss this with him and agree I am going to be safe and away we go.
The ride home is uneventful and only about 15 minutes. We arrive at my apartment. Now here is a guy, about 5’10” tops, dark haired, blue eyed and acting like a gentleman. He did not even try anything when we get home. I get him set up on the couch with a blanket and I proceed to strip down to my underwear and pass out in my bed. I am not the least bit worried about him hurting me.
I wake up in the morning and start to turn over and I’m NOT ALONE in bed. I jump and scream. I’m looking at him holding the sheet up to me and my scream wakes him up. I KNOW we didn’t have sex b/c I’m still wearing panties and I have no recollection of doing so. He quickly explains that my kitten wouldn’t leave him alone on the couch and out of desperation he climbed into bed next to me. He is still in his t-shirt and boxers so I calm down and lie down next to him so we are facing each other. We talk for a little bit, make out some but nothing heavy and go back to sleep. After we wake up we get dressed and I drive him back to his house in the bar district. He doesn’t seem to be that into me in spite of the make-out session earlier. He hesitates before getting out of the car, but no one asks for anybody’s number. Now for a guy to take me home, not try to fuck me, and then not ask for my number after making out. Just doesn’t happen. He REALLY bailed me out of a situation that night. He rescued me from the side of that curb and got me home safely, then didn’t try to take advantage in return.
A few weeks or months later we are back at Bar 1 and he’s there. I walk right past him and do a double take. I walk right up to him and say “You look just like the guy that rescued me a few weeks/months ago from that curb outside” It’s him. “You were so nice I tell him, you took me home and kept me safe and you didn’t even try anything.” We start dancing and hanging out. I’m super excited because he is even cuter than I remembered. He’s not my favorite type, but I’m into him. We hang out this way most of the night and he comes with me and my friends to other bars that night. Then it gets to be close to going to get something to eat while drunk time and we spill out onto the street and head to the burrito place.
On the street, on the way we encounter an ex of mine. Big Balls. Big Balls and I had lots of sex for a while, then got too close and he got too scared and pulled away. He will go on to later tell me I am his THE ONE, but by that time it will be too late and I will no longer have any trust in his ability to be emotionally available to me. On this night though, I am mad at Big Balls. I am walking up to him, I pull ahead actually when I see him, leaving the boy and the friends to catch up. We begin to have words, in the middle of this stupid stupid fight I notice something. The boy has gotten a look of hurt and recognition on his face. He knows this is an ex and he feels like I ditched him to talk to the ex, because I did. He looks at me, shakes his head and starts to walk away. I’m torn but the damage is done and I am angry at Big Balls still so I choose to finish our short talk on the street. In the end they have both walked away and I go with my friends to get that burrito.
I regret that move. I will always wonder a tiny bit what could of been with my guy and I. The lost opportunity to love, to never know is somewhat sad when there is perceived potential. I know sometimes in a new relationship you have to play what if, either in your head or together, but even that can be a very dangerous game. You truly have no idea how you will handle any given situation until you get right there in it. You cannot pre-plan and account for every hurt , every bad thing that might happen if you take the plunge. You can only choose to love and accept it may come with loss, or choose to sit out and never know. I’ll never know b/c I chose to play what if on the street with Big Balls that day. The potential for me to gain return on my investment caused me to make a choice. And now, I’ll never know what could of been…. Big Balls was more important to me that night than my guy, and I am where I am because of it.
I really do believe that we are where we are in our lives for a reason. Sure there are things we may harbor true remorse for choosing to do, but playing the what if I had done and I regret making this and such choice game are nothing more than an endless mind fuck you deliver to yourself. You are where you are in THIS moment in time because of where you have been. The grass is not greener on the other side, if it is it’s only going to be that way for a while, then it will just be the same grass you have now but with a new guy. I know with our internet social age we get thrust into the opportunity to play this game more and more often. Mind fucking yourself is wasted time and energy. If there is something you truly wish to change or repair then put on your BGP and seek to repair or or change it, but please don’t play the what if game. Instead play the do, live, let it be, breathe game.
This is my new favorite album this summer. Of course as soon as I go and brag on my girls of summer Freddie boy steps in and just blows me away. He’s evolved. It’s not just about hookers and blow anymore. It’s late, The Husband and I need some watch Spartacus in bed time, but I promise to write more about the whole album by updating this post sometime tomorrow. For now this is my new favorite song. This song may be my new anthem. This song is going on my play at my funeral list along with Incubus Wish You Here and Dixie Chicks Landslide. Well done Fred.
07/15/11 I’m quite a bit late coming back to this, but in my defense it has been a banner week. 15 run miles completed for the half marathon training, an apology is sent into the universe and an epiphany has come. Now on to the music. As I stated earlier Fred isn’t all about the nookie anymore. He has very clearly had his heart broken or maybe even realized he fucked up some things. He is still full of fabulous anger and bravado, and I like that. Angry music has always struck a note with me. I absolutely love angry music, especially if it is of the fuck you or don’t fuck with me variety. There are a grand total of 16 songs on this album, and I have 9 added to my top rated itunes playlist. I’ve been a bit spoiled musically lately b/c it seems that so many albums this year have delivered way more than the hope for 1-3 songs I might like on them.
In my opinion the best songs on this one are:
Bring it Back
Loser- I’m a loser yes its true, it’s like I’m losing since I met you. Through the good times and the bad, it’s like I’m losing all that I had…. I’m losing my life away, I’m losing myself and I want it back…
Back Porch.. It’s a party on the back porch. Imma take you through the back door, gonna drink till there ain’t no more
My Own Cobain-driving me so recklessly into my own Cobain..I guess I pushed away the only one who really cared.. roam around with me nowhere but in my own Cobain. I can’t believe it’s over, I can’t believe I’m broken…you know the taste of loving you is not erased.
Angels- above… You gave the love you had to spare, and in return I built an island there, when I dream I see your face, that’s when we laugh, somewhere in outer space… the angels over me have seen me cry in agony, the angels over me they all believe this side of me. .. I’ve been a fool, what’s done is done, I can’t erase and I refuse to run. I’m begging you, to please forgive, my heart is true, it’s just the way I live.