Home > Rayne > I’m weird today.

I’m weird today.

August 10th, 2016

Screen Shot 2016-08-05 at 10.12.52 AM

I mean, by society’s standards, I’m weird every day, but for me, I’m weird, today.

Example. Jenna Marbles is, by far, my favorite YouTuber. She has a new video up, and I know she has a new video up because it was the first notification I saw this morning, and yet she’s the only YouTube subscription I haven’t looked at today.

There’s no real reason. She hasn’t done or said anything to make me not want to watch her latest video. I just haven’t.

I keep waiting for people to tell me I’m juvenile for being so addicted to YouTube, since it seems to have somehow become inextricably connected to adolescent culture of late, but so far, only M has. I think sometimes he forgets that YouTube used to be my main source of current events updates (back when YouTube was new, and I was still too immature to listen to a news report devoid of entertainment value), and has always been the fastest way for me to cheer myself up. Most of the comedians there are damn funny, and so many of them are funny because they’re sarcastic AF, which means their humor is right up my alley.

It’s possible he doesn’t actually know when my addiction began. At that point, he was working in the office every day, sometimes gone for 12 hours or more a day, so I’d get my chores done, log into the IRC channels I was required to loiter in, and watch videos on YouTube. At the time, there was no such thing as a “famous” YouTuber, and no one was getting rich off videos.

I’m actually really glad that’s changing. With the number of people who watch YouTube’s major content creators, they should be benefiting from their content.

August 31st is our last day in this house. My feelings are all over the place.

It’s our first house, and it’s adorable and teeny and would be the perfect size for us if we didn’t have to keep a “Forbidden Room” for our bikes, or have two rather rambunctious cats who can’t help but be underfoot because there’s really not space for two rather rambunctious cats (especially with a Forbidden Room).

It’s the first time we’ve had our very own backyard we can hang out in without fear of being assaulted, robbed, or murdered. And it’s a nice backyard with shade trees, and a fence, so the cats were able to go outside and play when it was nice out without us having to worry too much about them getting lost.

It’s the first time we’ve lived anywhere that there weren’t people living on the other side of the wall, and sticking their nose in our business.

There have been some bad things, too, like the fact that the landlord hasn’t fixed the collapsing floor in the laundry room, and the obnoxious bully teen living next door. But the positives of this place have by far outweighed the negatives. We probably wouldn’t even be moving if it wasn’t for the incredible opportunity that was presented to us.

We’re working on getting packed. I finished packing up our books yesterday. I wasn’t feeling well, so I was hella bitter about it, even though it was my idea. But now that I’m not so grumpy, I’m pretty impressed with me. We ran out of book boxes, and my stomach was trying to kill me, but I still didn’t give up. I found boxes small enough to use for books (because if you’ve ever packed books, you know you want to put them in small boxes so they’re not too heavy), and was careful of the weight distribution, and marked the ones too heavy for M to lift (because of his back), and finished that damn task.

You’re thinking, “Oh, good for you. You want a cookie?” because I’m a grown ass woman, and packing books seems like a stupid thing to be proud of, but I am the queen of giving up. Running away. Avoiding. The tiniest bump in the road is enough to convince me that I’m not ___________ enough and I should leave the task to someone else.

Hell, I’ve already written my Vondage review in my head, but it still hasn’t made it to my website because somehow one of the bulbs in my light kit got smashed, and we can’t afford to buy another one right now, and I don’t want to post shitty pictures in the review.

This has not always been a thing, and I’m a little bit disgusted with myself. Once upon a time, if anyone suggested that I couldn’t do something, or anything stood in my way, I’d get pissed off, buckle down, and fucking do it.

I often find myself wondering where that girl went. And would she come back, please? Because I miss her like crazy.

So I’m practicing giving myself credit when it’s due in the hope that I will some day be that girl again. And I’m due some credit for getting those books packed even though I totally didn’t want to and probably could have easily convinced M to let me do it another day. Go me.

I’m trying not to be so hard on myself. I’ve made mistakes. I’ve done some shit I’m not proud of. Who hasn’t?


The goal for the rest of the year is to find my way back to the woman who focused on the positive in every situation, instead of the negative. To rediscover the determination that used to lead my life choices. To stop wallowing in self pity when, in reality, though there are regrettable things in my past, I’ve got a big wide future out there in which I can either let them rule me, or refuse to let them define me.

I’m aiming for the latter.

Besides…check out this bathtub:


As of August 31st, I get to lay in that thing any time I want. If that’s not something to be excited about, I don’t know what is.


Categories: Rayne Tags:
  1. dweaver999
    August 11th, 2016 at 10:58 | #1

    I sometimes miss the person I used to be; I can’t figure out where he went. But then I really look at him, and realize that he’d never be able to deal with the stuff in my life right now. We grow as people, and that’s a good thing. I know this probably isn’t helping much, but the Rayne you are today, is the Rayne you need to be today. It’s okay to miss the old you, but give the current you credit for being who she is.
    I had to laugh at the book packing. The first time I moved with my books, I packed them all in a large (TV) box and went to lift it. Almost gave myself a hernia. Books are fucking heavy!


Comments are closed.
%d bloggers like this: