That's right, kidd-o's, it's BACK to red hair for the ol' Ruca. My stylist did a poo job this last round, and I sincerely beleive it is because she was more concerned with where we were ending up that night, as it was St' Patty's Day the last time she and I not only 'Dyed' together, but also 'Drank' together! 
As far as the moving plans are concerned, I have decided that the roomies are a NO go. They turned out to be nothing better than self indulgent, self absorbed, socially anxious ass holes, and frankly I don't care if they smoked weed everyday, having the I.Q. of a 12 year old does not constitute them as 'cool' or 'chill' people to live with in my book. Yeah, sure the atmosphere may have been inviting, WHEN THEY ARE HIGH, but take away the bong, and all we are left with are two semi-thugged out, part time drug dealers. Wait, no, I am sorry, they claim to be 'out of the game' as their last deal went sour, and one ended up with pretty metal bracelets, RIGHT there in some park in Philly.
As proud as I am of myself for not allowing myself to fall into a tense situation, my father seems to see it differently. Ok, folks, this is where things get nasty. If you are not willing to read what we might call "Ugly Truth", turn back now....
...Daddy Dearest...
My father and I probably have a great relationship on the surface. He makes me laugh, I make him laugh, we laugh at other people together (namely my mama, but that's cause she makes it SO darn easy, and she knows it, that lil space cadet she is ). However, on the inside, my father is most hated by almost every fiber of my being. Wait wait, that was harsh, I don't hate my father per say, but I hate most things about the way he non-relates to me. I hate the fact that for the majority of my life, oh say, 23 years and counting, I have tried OH so hard to get this man's attention. He was always there to repremand and play authoritarian, but ask for a quick listen to the happenings at school that day, or a shoulder to cry on, and I'd always come up short. He tells me things like, this morning for instance, "Who the Fuck cares WHO you live with", or things that would imply I am worthless, irresponsible, ungrateful, disrespectful, etc....I don't think I am effectivly conveying the pain here, but maybe that's OK. Let's just put it this way, he affects me SO much during the arguments, sparks up so much passion in me to prove that I am right, and brings me to tears everytime he verbalizes his not caring for me, but then, when the dust settles, I feel as if I don't care. It's almost as If I had just been a spectator. I am becoming numb to his words, which I suppse is best, but the relationship is so calloused now that there is really no going back. He tried to appologize to me today when I came in the door, like he always does, like every abusive person, whether physically, or in my case verbally, does. I just acknowledged the dog and kept my pace to my room. It hurts so much to realize that a relationship that should have been nurturing and something I could embrace with ease is so tense and rough-edged. I just wanted things to be different. My entire life, I have wanted a good relationship with dad. It's not going to happen, and the reality just hurts...
...That being said however, when the folks move to NC this summer, it is going to be so hard to keep in touch with mom. I don't want to isolate her becasue he has given me no other choice in my relationship with him. I also feel as though I know it will not be a hinderance in relationships with men, as I am aware of the dysfunction, and totally willing to correct it. I am willing to understand and know that not every guy that I date will see me in the hardend light that my father seems to see me in. I will just keep reminding myself of this until I a. meet the right guy and, b. truly believe this....
Other than the regularly scheduled trip to the Valley Of Dysfunction this morning, things are going OK. I DID put something up on roommates.com, and am checking Craig's List religiously. I am determined to get the hell outta dodge, folks. It IS time!
As far as the moving plans are concerned, I have decided that the roomies are a NO go. They turned out to be nothing better than self indulgent, self absorbed, socially anxious ass holes, and frankly I don't care if they smoked weed everyday, having the I.Q. of a 12 year old does not constitute them as 'cool' or 'chill' people to live with in my book. Yeah, sure the atmosphere may have been inviting, WHEN THEY ARE HIGH, but take away the bong, and all we are left with are two semi-thugged out, part time drug dealers. Wait, no, I am sorry, they claim to be 'out of the game' as their last deal went sour, and one ended up with pretty metal bracelets, RIGHT there in some park in Philly.
As proud as I am of myself for not allowing myself to fall into a tense situation, my father seems to see it differently. Ok, folks, this is where things get nasty. If you are not willing to read what we might call "Ugly Truth", turn back now....
...Daddy Dearest...
My father and I probably have a great relationship on the surface. He makes me laugh, I make him laugh, we laugh at other people together (namely my mama, but that's cause she makes it SO darn easy, and she knows it, that lil space cadet she is
). However, on the inside, my father is most hated by almost every fiber of my being. Wait wait, that was harsh, I don't hate my father per say, but I hate most things about the way he non-relates to me. I hate the fact that for the majority of my life, oh say, 23 years and counting, I have tried OH so hard to get this man's attention. He was always there to repremand and play authoritarian, but ask for a quick listen to the happenings at school that day, or a shoulder to cry on, and I'd always come up short. He tells me things like, this morning for instance, "Who the Fuck cares WHO you live with", or things that would imply I am worthless, irresponsible, ungrateful, disrespectful, etc....I don't think I am effectivly conveying the pain here, but maybe that's OK. Let's just put it this way, he affects me SO much during the arguments, sparks up so much passion in me to prove that I am right, and brings me to tears everytime he verbalizes his not caring for me, but then, when the dust settles, I feel as if I don't care. It's almost as If I had just been a spectator. I am becoming numb to his words, which I suppse is best, but the relationship is so calloused now that there is really no going back. He tried to appologize to me today when I came in the door, like he always does, like every abusive person, whether physically, or in my case verbally, does. I just acknowledged the dog and kept my pace to my room. It hurts so much to realize that a relationship that should have been nurturing and something I could embrace with ease is so tense and rough-edged. I just wanted things to be different. My entire life, I have wanted a good relationship with dad. It's not going to happen, and the reality just hurts...
...That being said however, when the folks move to NC this summer, it is going to be so hard to keep in touch with mom. I don't want to isolate her becasue he has given me no other choice in my relationship with him. I also feel as though I know it will not be a hinderance in relationships with men, as I am aware of the dysfunction, and totally willing to correct it. I am willing to understand and know that not every guy that I date will see me in the hardend light that my father seems to see me in. I will just keep reminding myself of this until I a. meet the right guy and, b. truly believe this....
Other than the regularly scheduled trip to the Valley Of Dysfunction this morning, things are going OK. I DID put something up on roommates.com, and am checking Craig's List religiously. I am determined to get the hell outta dodge, folks. It IS time!