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I live in a little triplex in the middle of Tucson. It’s not a super great neighborhood, but I like my little apartment area. There are only three units. For most of the time we’ve lived here, either one or both of the other units has been empty. And when there were people here, they weren’t loud or annoying. The rest of the neighborhood is full of undesirables, but our little property was nice, quiet, simple.

It was too good to last. In the past few days, both units have become occupied and not by low-key couples who keep to themselves, but by MEXICANS and their CHILDREN. Oh the horror. My once quiet little complex has become loud and obnoxious, with boisterous Mexican cars (cars can be boisterous can’t they?), people coming and going constantly, bratty little kids running around screaming, feet walking all over the rocks in my yard, doors banging, noises noises everywhere. I hate it. I want to kick them all in the face and I want them to shut up and go away and ruin someone else’s existence. To top it all? Relentless yammering in Spanish. God damn Mexicans and their god damn families.

Now I definitely have to move out, because I’ll be damned if I’m going to live with a bunch of freaking kids. I don’t want to have to be nice to them. I hate kids. I won’t expose Ryland to other kids! He deserves better.

And I’m certainly not exposing him to a bunch of Mexican kids. That’s where I draw the line people. That is where I draw the motherscratching line.

Tucson + relationship = lazy christa.

depression + frustration = lazy christa.

low self-esteem + lack of dancing = lazy christa.

no scrabble + poor sleep = lazy christa.

lack of inspiration + lack of intellectually challenging environment = lazy christa.

genes + lifestyle = lazy christa.

I could go on here, but we’re getting the idea. I’m lazy by default. It’s my NATURE. My current station in life is only making it worse. And when I get this lazy, nothing good can happen. I’m miserable and I make it a point to share that misery with everyone in my life. I’m not much fun to be around and I spend much of my time hating everyone in the universe.

The problem of course is breaking out of this laziness. I can’t just do one thing and expect the rest to fall in place. I need to take a multi-pronged approach. Attack it from all directions. But I’m so laahaaaazy. I don’t want to do anything but sit in my dark little corner and hate myself and the world. you know, wallow. in my misery. I am very good at it. And it takes so little effort on my part. But it’s bad, I know it’s bad and I don’t want Ryland to think that this is a good way to live.

I am taking a little trip next week. That’s my first step. Getting up and getting away. You know, that whole thing about seeing the forest through the trees? So yes. I need to step back. Then I can come home with a clearer head and rethink what I’m doing and decide what needs pitching, what needs keeping and what needs just a little bit of fixing. Some things will have to burn, that’s for sure. I’m hoping my little vacation will help me light the match and aim true.

I watched that movie The Incredibles last night. It was fantastic. I loved it, from the graphics/animation to the dialogue and plotlines. Very clever and silly and smart and fun.

I must say, I really hate that I’m not a superhero or that I don’t live in a cartoon world. And now, of course, I’m obsessed with working at Pixar. I bet it would be a lot of fun and a lot of work and then, at the end of all your hard work and fun, you’d end up with a movie like this. I need results like that. If I’m going to be inputting my all, I want to see a spectacular output. That happens at Pixar, they make some terrific films.

I already made the most important first step–I bought a Mac. Now I just need to learn how to draw and how to animate and then of course there’s all that math to learn and master and I’ll have to meet the right people and get more education and experience and find an entry level job and concentrate and focus and produce some amazing work so that people notice and I’ll prod and prod and work my way up and finally I’ll meet someone from pixar and they’ll love me and hire me and my dream will be complete.

Man I can’t wait to start working again!

But I’ll miss Ryland so much! ahhh!! ahhh! ahhhhhhhh!

I want to work and I want to be at home with him. I’m torn between two lovers, feeling like a fool.

So I’ve uploaded some new pictures of Ryland. I am trying to find the super cutest picture of Ryland to send in for the baby contest. I have tons more but sooner or later I have to pick one. So take a look and see if you think any of them are contest winners! (I know, they all are, but still…I need to pick one)

Also, I’ll probably add a few more in the next week or two. I’ll let you know don’t worry.

Why is it foreigners are so much more interesting and seem to have so much more fruitful and spectacular lives than us Americans? Well, this American anyway.

Growing up middle-class American has affected my ability to be interesting. I’m sure of it. Middle-class is SO boring and SO blah. Everyone is frigging middle-class America. It’s the middle-class who invented the word crazy, because we have to keep doing outrageous things to get attention, otherwise we go unnoticed.

Being boring by default, for instance, means I have to perform small acts of “magic” to seem interesting, even just to myself. Acts of magic like being incredibly slutty, or trying to kill myself, or getting involved in stupid relationship melodrama, or being over 30 and still in school. The best one yet? Pretending I’m a writer, an ARTIST, with real experiences to share. HA. This isn’t how real people with real lives behave.

I don’t know, maybe it’s the Internet. Suddenly I have access to so many lives that were once unknown to me. Maybe it was better before the good old information superhighway, when I hated my life compared only to those I saw around me in my shitty town and to those I saw on TV or in magazines. That I could handle.

But now…well, now I not only have friends and neighbors and celebrities to compare myself to, I’ve got a whole entire world of men and women who are infinitely more attractive and smarter and funnier and can speak exotic languages and they all have alluring accents and the craziest sweetest most amazing stories to share. And what can I offer to top that? The most exciting thing about me is my baby, and there are millions and millions of women with babies. Nothing special there.

Okay, yes you’re right, Ryland is out of this world fantastic and the very definition of special. Therefore, by mere physical proximity, I am elevated slightly in the worthwhile category. But I’m just his mother. His perfect existence doesn’t make ME any more appealing or unique.

In the end, it comes down to me being disappointed with myself. There isn’t really anything all that interesting about me and it’s my fault for not changing that, for not taking action, for not going out and making things happen. I wait. I watch and wait and then feel depressed when the merri-go-round passes me by. Just because I have a ticket doesn’t mean I get to ride. I have to get on first, right?

So what is holding me back. Why won’t I get on the motherfucking ride already?