the highs, the lows
I can't get over this none-too-subconscious feeling that my shit is just a wrap; my life has progressed as far as it's going to and everything from this point on has to be all about my daughter or I'm a bad person. like I have to turn my life into the dealer so serena's chance at a good hand can be better then mine ever was. I watch a lot of poker on tv during the day so dig that metaphor. I think the affliction called twenty-somethingism adds to this nagging feeling I have that pursuing anything at this juncture is pointless cause society would have me believe its only cool to be a young blood at something when you're like 21, 22 years old. my friends with seeds say that's just the way it goes...shorties require a lot of attention, newbors especially, the self-centered little shits...you can't really concentrate on too much the way you were accustomed when every few hours you have to feed, burp, and change a baby and inbetween entertain them with 'tard faces and cartoony voices. but my daughter is such a cherubic angelcake...when she does interrupt me with her cries or whines for attention I can't really get annoyed with her when she looks at me with such a wide-eyed sweetface. and as much as I pheen to get out of the house, as much as I feel the walls of my apartment are squeezing all the youthful exuberance out of my veins and arteries; I miss her before I even get halfway out the door. eh, I push through it though...if I didn't I'd never get my nails done. or have finally seen sin city this past weekend with li for that matter. it was pretty good, cinematically and visually as stunning and innovative as anything I've ever seen...but I doubt my anticipation could've possibly been met considering I was originally supposed to see it the day I went into labor...so it's not quite up there on my favorites with the matrix or pulp fiction. I forget who I was talkin to about this (I do that often) but we agreed the girls could've been more badass. although they were definitely none to tussle with, they still heavily relied on the dudes to be the supreme bad motherfuckers...miho being the exception. she might as well have been yanked right out of kill bill. but I was tryin to see rosario dawson do a little more pumpeling and mayhem.
this parenting gig is a huge responsibility, and a loss of selfishness in everyway. and I am just not a very responsible person. I'm vain and I like attention and booze and weed and loud music. I feel like I went from being 18 to 40 overnight. but thats more a function of just having nobody at all around to help...family-wise that is...no grandma's house to drop her off at or none of that white picket fence type convenience. christopher's mom was here for a few days right after mother's day (mine was fine, by the way, very poignant-feeling now that its for me) helping us out a lot and it gave me an opportunity to get some work done, take naps, check my email. she was just like my mom was with beans, too...overly affectionate and tender, super attentive...that's why grandmas rule. her visit really broke up the monotany for awhile because generally, when christopher is at work during the day, serena and I exist in a bubble with only each other as company and entertainment. by the time he gets home we're both elated to see him, I hand her off and we reboot from each other until the next morning. the days only differentiate themselves from one another because she's daily adding a new skill to her repertoire...i.e. grabbing hair, following her rotating teddy bear mobile with her eyes, and producing increasingly more stinky shits. thus, this is my life at present. back to work on monday, though, as this is my last week of maternity leave. for at least the next couple of months, christopher and I will be alternating work days...we won't have not one day off together...our lives will be work and baby for a very long time. although I realize this is an unavoidable necessity, it sorta makes me want to leap from the window of a very big building. my wanting to jump from a building instead of immersing myself in constant, unwavering happiness at my blessings makes me want to shoot myself with a very big gun.
I don't want anyone to take me wrong; I love my daughter, she's the sunshine of my life. before we saw sin city on saturday, li dragged me into the sanrio store...I've never been into hello kitty, and I'd been in there on various occassions before with my other sanrio-obsessed girlfriends, but this time I fell in LOVE with that powdery pink shit! I had this future vision of taking serena in there and spending way too much money to feed her unavoidable little girl attraction to its saccrine anime cuteness. I doubt I've ever looked more forward to spending my hard earned money on someone besides myself. I adore my babygirl. I'm just keepin it real an shit as far as the aforementioned complaints go...its stressful. everything is different. I wanna go wander the streets of amsterdam with a sketch pad and a rhyme book...I wanna invite an audience of my young, culturally-savvy, hip hop minded peers to my art gallery shows...I wanna do a burlesque strip tease in a corset and garters for a private party full of rich, black lesbians who all look like variations of angela basset, I wanna learn to speak japanese so I can watch iron chef without the dubbing (although the dubbing is the shit)...and I hate feeling that I'm too grown or it's too late to do any of those things. I'm only in my twenties for shit sake...I have wine barrels full more living to do I would think. when I first got to new york I was cocky and overbearing with my ambitious confidence...my unwavering belief in my own abilities was enough to open any door I saw closed to me...without it I really feel lost and defeated sometimes. the moment the realization manifests...that life is hard and hardly anyone lives the way they dream...you die a little. and age. I have three grey hairs.
I get my fabulous sex life back soon, though...quite pleased about and looking forward to that. christopher gave me a boquet of orchids a few days ago, all petal purple curves and sweet smells. I've been having dreams about dominating him like a steel horse riding cowgirl, that's how I know I'm pheening. I anxiously look forward to expressing my love and appreciation in multiple positions I haven't been able to try since pre-pregnancy. my tummy is still in need of shaping and toning, but I have lost all of my pregnancy weight and then some thus far; maybe thanks to breastfeeding...although I've spent most of the past six weeks in baby drool soaked t-shirts, sans make-up, I'm starting to get my "I'm sexy" swagger back. and christopher is starting to look six feet tall of all edible, too, with his sexy butterscotch ass...grabbing me around my waist and saying "mine" all caveman-like. even his nerdishness turns me on. inside his sean john model, pretty boy, big dick exterior is a geek of epic proportions...he is a computer building, star wars trailer ten times a day watching, grammar correcting, first person shooter playing, macintosh swooning, geekboy. I like it about him. we're going to see revenge of the sith this evening...it won't be the first time we've gotten out of the house together sans serena, but it'll be the longest. blue's gift to us, in lieu of more baby clothes or toys, was her babysitting services. I hope serena is a good girl while we're gone. what am I talkin about...as long as she's got milk in her belly and a clean ass, she's chillin like a villain. doesn't take a lot to please her...big breasts to rest her head on are only a plus, and blue has those.
I must make my departure for the movie now. I have spiral curled bangs, a tight black shirt, and rosy slick lipgloss in excess for darth vader, bitches.