Build yourself!

I've been having a bad time. So I'm going to write a list of things I am thankful for to look at and enjoy and stuff.

1: My truck Studley.
2: I own all of Resident Evil and can watch it any time.
3: I own all of Xena Warrior Princess and can watch it any time.
4: My siblings love me.
5: I work with cows.
6: I have an incredible immune system.
7: I can kick so hard I stop rampaging mother and father cattle from killing me.
8: Coffee exists.
9: Lord of the Rings. (Yeah)
10: I got to visit SHEL in Colorado.

11: I saved my sisters life when we were younger.
12: I'm good at Video Games.
13: Pizza exists.
14: I own two Beretta Airsoft guns and I am good at shooting them.
15: I'm attractive.

But bad things that stick in the front of my brain say "Look. Look how horrible your life has been. Look at all your issues. You are weak and a coward. You will never be good enough. Look at all the pain you've caused. The bonds you've broken. You are disgusting." And suddenly I can't see the good, I can't function, I shut off all emotions and retreat into a web of anger and resentment.

And so I rage at the world, and think dark thoughts. And I know it's bad, and I know I could fix it by having a better attitude, I'm at war with myself. Because half of me says "Look Elena, everybody has bad things. Everybody has things they don't talk about. Pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and live your life." And they other half "F*ck the world and the people that have hurt me. I hate it. I hate all of it. I want to die. I want to die."

"These things are not worth dying for." I say.
"This life isn't worth living." I argue.

And so it's a circle of bleh. And I hate it because I'm not just affecting me, I'm infecting everyone who deals with me. And they say "Oh pish posh stop whining look at all the good don't look at the bad."

The bad is loud. And it roars at me.

I'm trying. I'm struggling to believe that life is good, regardless of the past the future will be better. Every day I struggle.
                           
                                 
And yes, I'm whining. You're probably thinking "Oh get over yourself." I know. I know.
And I keep telling myself "You are stronger then this. You can survive. You are a badass." But something whispers back "You are too weak. You will not survive. You are small."

Seriously it is a never ending fog of sickness.

And perhaps an attitude adjustment would fix it. Or a heavy amount of drugs.

Or if somebody would say "Yes, your life has been sh*t. But I love you, you dirty little F*ckball."

Mostly I have to fix myself. I've just lost the tools and need to pick them up.

There is so much good in my life. I just need to scrub the dirt out of my eyes to see it.

But there is bad, too. And every time I work up the courage to wipe my eyes, some bad memory throws a fist of mud back. Some bad whisper throws gravel.

Ooh, I've been dirt
And I don't care
Ooh, I've been dirt
And I don't care
‘Cause I’m burning inside
I'm just a yearning inside
And I'm the fire o' life
Ooh, I've been hurt
And I don't care
Ooh, I've been hurt
And I don't care
‘Cause I’m burning inside
I'm just a dreaming this life
And do you feel it?
Said do you feel it when you touch me?
Said do you feel it when you touch me?
There's a fire Well, it’s a fire It was just a burning
Yeah, alright
Ooh! Burning inside
Burning Just a dreaming
Just a dreaming
It was just a dreaming
It was just a dreaming
I'm definitely messed up. But I have the fire of life. I'm going to burn through this fog of sickness and rise like the messed up phoenix I am. Deshi Basara. Φτιάξτε μόνοι σας.
Thanks for reading this. If you got to the end.

                                             

Peace out and all that jazz.

Love, the Paina.

Ps. Send chocolate. And a puppy.

Still Alive (Barely)

What is up! It's been like forevah and a day since I posted here.

I am going to spend my youth watching 6 second videos.

Life is the same, still farming the dairy and being odd.

Baby calves are so weird because they're all scared until they see you carrying a bottle then SUDDENLY RAPISTS.

I got a new truck! Soon it will be in my parking spot.


His name is Studley. Courtesy of Sarah.

I'm so excited! What girl doesn't want a big truck? Forget milkshakes, my truck brings all dem boyz to my yard.

Dan and Patrick will chase them away though.

I'm gonna miss my Sweet Pea though! She's a good girl. Yesterday I had to go back to work because I forgot to fill the calf feeders so the poor baby rapists would have had no food. So I went back and the Hogendoorns super long driveway was all drifts so I clicked into FWD and plowed through drifts that were seriously up to my window. It was fine going downhill. But back up? I was going 80 and moving an inch at a time but when I reached the top it was so amazing me and SweetPea celebration danced.
Her dancing was a big fishtail from driveway to road.

Driving in a blizzard is WAY different in a city then the country. All the city lights reflect on the snow so you can actually see where you are going. In the country the headlights blare into the snow so all you see is the snow in front of you.

Then when I got home, I was shivering really bad and this happened.

Dan and Patrick squished me in a fierce brother hug! I've never been so warm in my life.
I like living alone, but living with my brothers is also awesome.

I weird them out though.


TIME FOR FOOD.

I'll chat you up later.

Love, The Paina.

Stressed depressed unimpressed.

Here I am again, dancing a weird jig and twerking my life away.

Straight to it: I have been enduring seriouzizzle problems at work.

It started with a text.

And ended with a bang.

On the shoulder.

The final straw should have been earlier, but it too the pain in my arm to open my eyes and say "WHAT THE FUCKIZZLE HAVE I BEEN DOING." (It's not a real swearword if it has "izzle" in it. #yolo)

As some of you may know I have been harassed at work mercilessly for 9 months. I have been there for 10.

Basically my co-workers think they are invincible and can do what ever the fuckbizzle they want to me, and get away clean.
My bosses think that I will cowtow and endure it (Which I have been...You have permission to mentally slap me.) And therefore do nothing to protect me.

So on the 4th when the event occurred Mother phoned the police, they came, and I filed a report. They said I could charge the two main perpetrators., or give them a warning. They said what one of them did was borderline criminal. (Just for kicks here's what it was: Attempted rape.)  Although the shoulder assault was what I reported first. (I didn't tell anyone about the attempted rape, because that's awkward and hard to talk about.)

I opted for a warning. That way the two guys wouldn't be asked to court or sent back to Guatemala.
The police also recommended that I report Herman Jr. to the M.O.L. for doing nothing. I hadn't yet.

So the police went to the barn and gave them a warning.

Ooooooh boy this is where it gets good.

So that was kind of me, to warn instead of charge right?

WRONG. APPARENTLY.
So the next day Herman Sr. Comes storming into the barn, walks up to me, stands with his face 5 inches from mine and screams at me.
"I'M NOT THE BOSS ANY MORE, BUT YOU SHOULD NEVER CALL THE COPS THE COPS SHOULD NEVER BE HERE." And more, but I kind of zoned out for a little and tried to explain myself and he kept cutting me off. eventually he turns around and says "I DON'T NEED YOUR EXPLANATION." And storms out leaving me devastated.

After that Herman Jr. Comes in and says "He is mad about the whole situation. He doesn't know all the details and your perspective sorry. He gets mad about this sort of thing."

And I'm like "What situation? The fact I was getting harassed or the fact I did something about it and went to the law?"

I'm pretty sure it's the latter reason.

Because I have never gotten anything I have asked for there, UNTIL the police were involved. Then suddenly anything I previously asked for was given.

So it's like "Hmm...they are scared shitless of me and rightly so."

After the Herman Sr. incident I got so....irked that I contacted M.O.L. Because why am I protecting a guy that never stood for me or had my back?

And yes. I have the biggest guilty bone ever so I feel soooo guilty about everything. And I will feel this way for years.

But I also want to make sure the Terpstras understand that there are consequences to treating your employees like dirt.

I'm like torn into two here: One side resentful one side guilty.

So, take from this what you will. I need to go to work tonight and could use some serious prayer.

Like, megapraying. For wisdom.

Also while my life has been shittizzle, my sister Heather had a baby girl today who is a little miracle.
So while I've been whining I've also been praising God for her.

Anyways, that's all.

If anybody wants to be my bodyguard I would be much obliged.

Paina out.

 
Love, The Paina.

PS. TWERK IT.

Whoa interwebs

As the majority of you know, I moved out of my Parents house recently.
The problem with that is I have a lack of Internet.

BUT in borrowing The Mothers computer I have come back to you. I know you missed me.

Or you are crying and cutting because I am back.

Whatever shears your sheep.

But anyways yeah I moved out of the Parents and into a temporary house in Mitchell with 3 roommates and a teeny room.

BUT NOW I am living in Brussels in a two bedroom apartment with my evil kitten Beatrix Kiddo.

I moved to Brussels to be closer to work. Because a 6 minute drive makes a lot more sense then a 31 minute drive. Fo shizzle.

I got asked the other day if I am at all lonely living in an apartment by myself.

I laughed quite outrageously.

No for some reason I have always preferred to be on my own. When I`m working, or cleaning, or living in an apartment above an empty store for lease, I just like being alone.

Which probably weirds out everyone around me.

Trust me I`m more weirded out then you guys.

In other news, I am working in a barn with Sexist little men who want to treat me like a princess who doesn`t want to get her hands dirty.

You guys who know me know that I Looooooathe entirelyyyyyyyyyy.

I like being alone and I hate chivalry.

I think a lot of people when they are carrying something heavy enjoy when a man or someone runs over and takes it from them.

Not I said Elena.

It`s different if I asked for the help. But if I say ``No it`s okay`` and they literally RIP the thing out of my hands it ticks me off slightly a little a lot.

But anyway enough about me. You look fabulous today.

I got to go celebrate my big brothers birthday.

Peace out!

Love, The Paina.

PS. Probably not going to see you again for a while so enjoy this blog.
Or do the best you can to put up with it.

Sup, mah peeps!

I posted this on a short story contest, which I won. So I thought I'd share it with you people.

It's based on a song you like, so I chose "Like you" By Evanescence. Enjoy!

Like you

Rain droplets slide down my window, racing each other down the glass. My eyes feel rigid while I watch them, like I can’t move or I’ll break apart. 

She can’t be gone.

I can’t cry. All I feel is a deep ache penetrating all of my being. The sun comes out, smiling down at the wet world, though rain still sparkles; falling to the ground. 

I hate it.

I hate all of it. 

Everything.

Including me.

The pain drives me to crush my fist closed. 

They told me at school. Showed up in my classroom. The sympathy from my classmates was agonizing. 

Though it’s been weeks, I still feel it sharply. 

I still can’t believe them.

I wish I was with her. I wish it had been me. Why couldn’t it have been me? 

She’s my sister; I’m supposed to protect her. I was supposed to protect her.

I creep down the stairs. Mom is talking on the phone. Not in her usual light tone. Everything is darker now. 

My brother is sitting in the living room, staring blankly at the wall. Tears slide down his cheeks. He doesn’t see me. 

I step outside and raindrops drop on me, beading on my skin. 

Get off me.

I open the door of my car. Slam the door when I’m in. Start it.

Speed down the driveway.

Where are you going? My thoughts spit at me. You can’t help her now. 

No, I can’t.

I tighten my grip on the steering wheel. 

The tires are making a hissing noise with the wet pavement.

I slow down. Turn into the laneway.

The sign glares at me. 

St. Edmund Cemetery.

I stop the car. 

I can’t bear it I can’t bear it I can’t bear it. 

I open the door. 

The damp grass is cold on my bare feet. My tank top clings wetly to my back, causing goosebumps to rise on my arms. 

I take little steps. 

Past Gravestones of lost loves. 

Past flowers flecked with droplets, like tears of the ones who placed them.

Till I come to it.

Her grave. 

Her last resting place. 

I read the epitaph.

Stay low, soft, dark and dreamless, far beneath nightmares and loneliness.

I lay down; the new grass of her grave brushes my cheek, resembling the way her little fingers once did. 

I weep. 

I weep till I gasp, and there’s no more.

I can see her. 

This isn’t her grave. She’s still here. 

She remembers me. 

She’ll wait for me.

Someday I’ll see her again. 

But till then I’ll be beside her. Not in flesh, but in thought.

I’m right here.


~Love, The Paina

Right in the childhood...

Elena is a little preoccupied at the moment.

With crazy adult things.

Sorry for the lack of crazy.

Blog will be here soon!

Love, The Paina.

Thoughts at the Chiropractor...

"I hope she can't see down my buttcrack."

"If a Chiropractor was a serial killer, neck breaking would probably be the way to go. OH GREASE, SHE'S GONNA MURDER ME."


"How in the world does jumping on my side even help me......"

That's just a few.

Pardon my crap drawings.

I don't feel well today.

ACTUALLY I LIED.

I JUST AM VERY ATTENTION DENIED TODAY.

I lied again.

I'm just lazy.

Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeah.

What? Me? Socially awkward? HA. Ha......ha....

Love, The Paina

PS. OW MY RIBS.