It was brought to my attention earlier this afternoon/evening by someone who I care about, and whose opinion I both respect and take into consideration, that some of my actions recently might have had repercussions I did not foresee. And bearing this in mind, those actions will cease, because he's correct, and while I don't mind poking and antagonizing people, I won't intentionally do anything at all to cause ill effect to an innocent. Not even inadvertently.
I can't control what other people do. But I can most certainly control what I do, and he had a point there. Moving on.
I'll be purchasing new surround speaker wire, as I seem to have come up short, because I need to restring the wires. And I'm going to need to get back my HDMI cables, because I'm going to be hooking up the full entertainment center in the next couple of weeks. I spent the better part of this afternoon moving furniture around (again) in the living room by myself, and kind of mapping out in my head how I want things set up, and I have a rough idea of how to hook up the system. I may or may not successfully figure it out, but I'm going to give it a healthy shot. I was rather impressed at the vast array of options behind that behemoth television set. I suspect the ports on the back of the receiver are going to look as mystifying to me for a while too, but, well, I'm tired of feeling like an idiot. I'm in the market for a decent HD antenna too. Yay, me?
I'm going to be measuring how much cable I'm going to need for the speakers, too, because I don't want it to look the way it currently looks, and I'll be tacking it down if I have to. Or begging someone tall to help me. Or purchasing a freaking ladder, and doing it myself. I'll figure something out. But I'm not leaving it the way it is. I was surprised at how successfully I moved all the major items around the living room by myself. I am woman, hear me roar? (insert sound of mighty roar here)
I *have* to stay home tomorrow, during the day. I have six (count them) chapters and quizzes that I've been lagging ass on reading and taking the tests on, and that I need to get done. Which I can more or less just slam out, if I sit down and do it, but I keep getting distracted, and procrastinating. I need to post to some discussion board things, and do a few other homework related things. Altogether, I should probably get up in the morning, and set aside, oh, six hours? For all of it. Such is life, and such is the suckage of it all. Perhaps I'll try my hand at challah while I study. It can rise and smell fabulous while I miserably read crappy chapters.
If I'm lucky? I will have happy challah as my reward for schoolwork misery. If I'm not lucky, at least I'll end up with still having decent food to eat at the end of the day, as I've been able to scrounge really good leftovers from Brody all week.
I did soooo much laundry today. I ended up stripping down my bed, and washing all the sheets, and changing out the comforter. Changing out the bedding? *SO* much easier now than it was, even a year ago. I can flip the mattress around, strip the sheets, climb all over the bed, and it's easy now. What I used to strain and huff and puff to do? Is now not complicated at all. So many things are easier, and while I don't take any of them for granted, it's just so nice to be able to do them for myself, and not need to rely on everyone else for the basic necessities.
I laughed the other day, because my stupid shower drain wasn't draining properly again. It's because my hair has gotten long again, and I knew it. The last time it happened, I had to have the maintenance guy come in, and fix it. This time? I busted out the pliers, and did what he did. Pulled all the freaking hair out of the drain. And now it drains like a champ once again. That's all it was the last time too, only I didn't know it. All I knew was that it was draining slow, and it was yucky. I know better now, and now I can fix it myself. Sure, management doesn't mind sending him out. But it's a waste of his time to come and unplug my drain, when I can easily fix that myself. Sort of like, I can change my air filter. There's no reason to waste their time on that. I appreciate that they show up when the main sink busts, and are prompt. And I have no desire to waste their time, so they *can* show up when something major goes wrong. It's a good exchange kind of deal.
A day-to-day discovery of me, of learning that I like this me, and of who I am, of who I've become. And that's good, that being me, isn't such a bad thing to be. I wish I'd gotten to know me sooner, it probably would have been good for me. But better late than never. I still have a life to live, and it's the only life I'm going to have. I can only make the most of it, and I finally am doing that. And I'm proud of that, and proud of myself. When I look at myself in the morning now, I respect the woman I've become. It was hard fought, and hard won.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Monday, September 29, 2008
Idiots on parade
Do you know, at the base of it, why I wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea of us having children together? Because while we were together, living "as a family", the three of us, with Monkey? When she wanted to call you Dad, you weren't okay with it. It unnerved you. You were always Danny. You didn't want to be her dad, and that was alright, I suppose. Because, honestly? If that was how you felt, that was your right. Because she was always mine, and never yours. You never wanted her to be yours. You were perfectly willing to make one with me, and that one would be yours. But my daughter? That wasn't something you wanted.
But my subconscious couldn't accept the idea of making a full-fledged go of things, building a family with someone, who didn't want my daughter. Oh, you'd've taken her. But she wasn't what you wanted. You wanted one that was *yours*. That wasn't fair, not to me, not to my daughter. Sure, you wanted a family...with a flesh-and-blood version of a miniature you. But not something that wasn't blood-tied to you. What was mine, that wasn't good enough. And something inside of me rebelled at that thought, whether I actively embraced it or not. I just never quite caught up.
Then again, I always did do what was best for my child, whether it was best for me or not. Something that your precious princess never seems to give a damn about. It breaks my heart, knowing that Monkey lost you, because I had to explain it all to her. She didn't visit at all while princess was living here. And yet, within two weeks of her moving out? She came down to visit. Because I wasn't willing to have my child exposed to the crotch-grabbing, "love-fest" that your precious princess flat out refused to put on hold, so my daughter could visit, as I recall. No, I was informed that my eleven-year-old daughter would need to "face the reality of the situation", and grow up, and deal with the fact that we'd broken up, and your princess owned you now, and damned to anything that would stand in her way of having you in her bed for a few days, so my daughter could see me.
No, I elected to not let my child be exposed to that sort of thing at her age. That just didn't seem appropriate. It was bad enough that *I* was having to watch her shove her tongue down your throat, and grabbing your crotch at every opportunity. I sure as shit didn't want Monkey getting an eyeful of that. And even that didn't faze you. The sheer gall of it all. The fact that Monkey asked to see you, and you didn't come, had no time for her. You wrote her off, without a backwards glance, after seven years. Because she wasn't anything to you. She was, after all, mine. Not yours. Nothing could have hammered that home more than that complete disregard for her feelings.
But I never allowed that many people to drift in and out of her life. I didn't let multiple people become attachments in her life. Not like poor Cora. I can't imagine the kind of life she has to have. She's lost so many people, and her mom just doesn't seem to give a shit, as she moves from one to the next, to the next. And none of her mother's so-called friends ever bothers to say or do anything to try and make an impact on what it's doing to the child in the entire fucking situation.
I can still vividly remember Cora asking me about her sisters...and me having to try and figure out who/what/when/how she was talking about. Because I didn't realize that Ronnie had other children. And then figuring out that she no longer has any contact with them, because that was part of the series of discards in her mother's life, just another thing that doesn't matter in grand scheme of what Mona wants. Cora was attached to them, but Mona wasn't anymore, and that didn't matter. Cora loves someone, and is attached, but if it doesn't suit princess' mood swings, or whatever it is she happens to be up to in whatever given year, then Cora gets screwed. Ronnie, and his girls. Stewie. Me. Doug. As she moves on through her happy-go-lucky life, not giving a shit about how it might affect her daughter, to have the people she's attached to be cut off and cut out, just because Moomy gets a stick up her ass about any given thing.
On a similarly-veined topic, but not entirely the same. Having gotten a fair read through the blogs Mona's posted recently, I have to say this: Deja vu. Last year, she blogged quite a bit, just before the dumping of Doug. I know, as I was the one reading those, about how he made her so happy, and she was so grateful that she could finally feel like herself with, and it was so wonderful to have found someone who she could settle down with, someone who loved her unconditionally and who she and Cora could be a family with, blah blah fucking blah. Now, off to the side there, from those blogs, she was bitching vociferously to myself and Danny about how Doug wasn't the best thing ever, and how he was cheap, and was kind of mean, and how things were unfair. This was at about the same time that his parents insisted she move out of their house, and she had to move in with Kat, and then in with me and Danny. But to the best of my knowledge, the only people she ever outright expressed displeasure with Doug to, were myself and Danny. The blogs, Doug himself, everything was sunshine and fucking roses, right up to the day she dumped him.
She called him her love, she told him everything was great. She went "home" to their house, continued screwing him, ate meals, went on dates. Everything was copacetic right up until the night she broke up with him. And even then, she still cried and said she loved him. Blah blah, cry me a river. Doesn't matter that she was playing tonsil hockey with Danny in the kitchen on the night of Danny's birthday, while still with Doug. That doesn't count, because, hey, wasn't sex, right? Oh, no. That doesn't matter. And the crassness of doing such a thing in front of me, three days after our breakup, that doesn't count either.
But she wrote blogs about how happy they were, and when they went to the fair, she had an absolute shit-fit, because Doug didn't buy her a three dollar little green necklace. Never mind that she could have purchased it for herself. She was livid that he didn't buy it for her. Ranted about how he ruined her entire Big Fresno Fair experience. And on, and on. All because he didn't buy her a little trinket. What Doug got out of the Fair? He thought they were there to spend time together, and enjoy each other's company. Mona thought they were there so he could buy her stuff, apparently. At least, that was what she ranted to Danny and me about later that night.
So I find it somewhat amusing that having read the year-ago blogs, and am reading the current blogs, since they're virtually identical. Hell, if you change out the names, she could have just lifted one from the other, and called it good. Makes me wonder if there's another set of people that she's bitching to now, about how miserable things are at home, and if there's someone new on the string, to take Danny's place, now that he's not swimming in cash, the way he was when they first got together. And I've heard all the excuses about how she pays her own way.
But I also have been with Danny, and he doesn't realize just how much he spends, without noticing. And the money he's used to having is gone now, because his bills are simply too high for it to be any other way. And princess doesn't like paying for anything herself. That isn't the way it works in her world. The man pays her way, and when he doesn't anymore, as Doug explained a couple months after the breakup when he put the pieces in place, when the money runs out, she moves on to the next man who will pay to keep her in the style she likes to be kept.
Doug got blindsided. When he took away the free-wheeling cash-fest? Danny must've looked damn good. She even called him by all the same pet names, it made my stomach turn. So yeah, deja vu from where I'm sitting, because, well, I'm not the one buried hip-deep. Doug and I talked about it quite a bit, and he felt relieved to be rid of her, and kind of sad that Danny was going to get screwed. I was sort of hoping that Danny was smarter than that, but apparently not.
Danny's Myspace went private today, which tells me there's probably an engagement of some sort in the works, otherwise, why bother shutting it down. He never updates shit on his. I had to tell him to change his quiz thing to remove me as his girlfriend eight months after our breakup, which was kind of amusing to me. So the only thing I could come up with for going private, was to hide the evidence of something like an engagement, which wouldn't exactly be able to be hidden, as I can still see it either way. But, meh.
But my subconscious couldn't accept the idea of making a full-fledged go of things, building a family with someone, who didn't want my daughter. Oh, you'd've taken her. But she wasn't what you wanted. You wanted one that was *yours*. That wasn't fair, not to me, not to my daughter. Sure, you wanted a family...with a flesh-and-blood version of a miniature you. But not something that wasn't blood-tied to you. What was mine, that wasn't good enough. And something inside of me rebelled at that thought, whether I actively embraced it or not. I just never quite caught up.
Then again, I always did do what was best for my child, whether it was best for me or not. Something that your precious princess never seems to give a damn about. It breaks my heart, knowing that Monkey lost you, because I had to explain it all to her. She didn't visit at all while princess was living here. And yet, within two weeks of her moving out? She came down to visit. Because I wasn't willing to have my child exposed to the crotch-grabbing, "love-fest" that your precious princess flat out refused to put on hold, so my daughter could visit, as I recall. No, I was informed that my eleven-year-old daughter would need to "face the reality of the situation", and grow up, and deal with the fact that we'd broken up, and your princess owned you now, and damned to anything that would stand in her way of having you in her bed for a few days, so my daughter could see me.
No, I elected to not let my child be exposed to that sort of thing at her age. That just didn't seem appropriate. It was bad enough that *I* was having to watch her shove her tongue down your throat, and grabbing your crotch at every opportunity. I sure as shit didn't want Monkey getting an eyeful of that. And even that didn't faze you. The sheer gall of it all. The fact that Monkey asked to see you, and you didn't come, had no time for her. You wrote her off, without a backwards glance, after seven years. Because she wasn't anything to you. She was, after all, mine. Not yours. Nothing could have hammered that home more than that complete disregard for her feelings.
But I never allowed that many people to drift in and out of her life. I didn't let multiple people become attachments in her life. Not like poor Cora. I can't imagine the kind of life she has to have. She's lost so many people, and her mom just doesn't seem to give a shit, as she moves from one to the next, to the next. And none of her mother's so-called friends ever bothers to say or do anything to try and make an impact on what it's doing to the child in the entire fucking situation.
I can still vividly remember Cora asking me about her sisters...and me having to try and figure out who/what/when/how she was talking about. Because I didn't realize that Ronnie had other children. And then figuring out that she no longer has any contact with them, because that was part of the series of discards in her mother's life, just another thing that doesn't matter in grand scheme of what Mona wants. Cora was attached to them, but Mona wasn't anymore, and that didn't matter. Cora loves someone, and is attached, but if it doesn't suit princess' mood swings, or whatever it is she happens to be up to in whatever given year, then Cora gets screwed. Ronnie, and his girls. Stewie. Me. Doug. As she moves on through her happy-go-lucky life, not giving a shit about how it might affect her daughter, to have the people she's attached to be cut off and cut out, just because Moomy gets a stick up her ass about any given thing.
On a similarly-veined topic, but not entirely the same. Having gotten a fair read through the blogs Mona's posted recently, I have to say this: Deja vu. Last year, she blogged quite a bit, just before the dumping of Doug. I know, as I was the one reading those, about how he made her so happy, and she was so grateful that she could finally feel like herself with, and it was so wonderful to have found someone who she could settle down with, someone who loved her unconditionally and who she and Cora could be a family with, blah blah fucking blah. Now, off to the side there, from those blogs, she was bitching vociferously to myself and Danny about how Doug wasn't the best thing ever, and how he was cheap, and was kind of mean, and how things were unfair. This was at about the same time that his parents insisted she move out of their house, and she had to move in with Kat, and then in with me and Danny. But to the best of my knowledge, the only people she ever outright expressed displeasure with Doug to, were myself and Danny. The blogs, Doug himself, everything was sunshine and fucking roses, right up to the day she dumped him.
She called him her love, she told him everything was great. She went "home" to their house, continued screwing him, ate meals, went on dates. Everything was copacetic right up until the night she broke up with him. And even then, she still cried and said she loved him. Blah blah, cry me a river. Doesn't matter that she was playing tonsil hockey with Danny in the kitchen on the night of Danny's birthday, while still with Doug. That doesn't count, because, hey, wasn't sex, right? Oh, no. That doesn't matter. And the crassness of doing such a thing in front of me, three days after our breakup, that doesn't count either.
But she wrote blogs about how happy they were, and when they went to the fair, she had an absolute shit-fit, because Doug didn't buy her a three dollar little green necklace. Never mind that she could have purchased it for herself. She was livid that he didn't buy it for her. Ranted about how he ruined her entire Big Fresno Fair experience. And on, and on. All because he didn't buy her a little trinket. What Doug got out of the Fair? He thought they were there to spend time together, and enjoy each other's company. Mona thought they were there so he could buy her stuff, apparently. At least, that was what she ranted to Danny and me about later that night.
So I find it somewhat amusing that having read the year-ago blogs, and am reading the current blogs, since they're virtually identical. Hell, if you change out the names, she could have just lifted one from the other, and called it good. Makes me wonder if there's another set of people that she's bitching to now, about how miserable things are at home, and if there's someone new on the string, to take Danny's place, now that he's not swimming in cash, the way he was when they first got together. And I've heard all the excuses about how she pays her own way.
But I also have been with Danny, and he doesn't realize just how much he spends, without noticing. And the money he's used to having is gone now, because his bills are simply too high for it to be any other way. And princess doesn't like paying for anything herself. That isn't the way it works in her world. The man pays her way, and when he doesn't anymore, as Doug explained a couple months after the breakup when he put the pieces in place, when the money runs out, she moves on to the next man who will pay to keep her in the style she likes to be kept.
Doug got blindsided. When he took away the free-wheeling cash-fest? Danny must've looked damn good. She even called him by all the same pet names, it made my stomach turn. So yeah, deja vu from where I'm sitting, because, well, I'm not the one buried hip-deep. Doug and I talked about it quite a bit, and he felt relieved to be rid of her, and kind of sad that Danny was going to get screwed. I was sort of hoping that Danny was smarter than that, but apparently not.
Danny's Myspace went private today, which tells me there's probably an engagement of some sort in the works, otherwise, why bother shutting it down. He never updates shit on his. I had to tell him to change his quiz thing to remove me as his girlfriend eight months after our breakup, which was kind of amusing to me. So the only thing I could come up with for going private, was to hide the evidence of something like an engagement, which wouldn't exactly be able to be hidden, as I can still see it either way. But, meh.
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Sarah Palin Naked
Sarah Palin Naked: By Michael Seitzman
She said "nucular." Twice.
I realized three things tonight. For one, if you are a McCain/Palin/Bush voter, you and I do not have a difference of opinion. We have a difference in brain power. Two, she really is as ignorant as I feared. And, three, she really is kinda hot. Basically, I want to have sex with her on my Barack Obama sheets while my wife reads aloud from the Constitution. (My wife is cool with this if I promise to "first wipe off Palin's tranny makeup." I married well.)
Now, I want to be clear and speak directly to those of you who LOVED that Palin interview. You're an idiot. I mean that. This is not one of those cases where we're going to agree to disagree. This isn't one of those situations where we debate it passionately and then walk away thinking that the other guy is wrong but argued well. I'm not going to think of you as a thoughtful but misguided person with different ideas who still really cares about the country and the world. No, sorry, not this time. This time, if you watched that interview and weren't scared out of your freakin' mind, then you're mentally ill, mentally disabled, or mentally disturbed. What you are NOT is responsible, informed, curious, thoughtful, mature, educated, empathetic, or remotely serious. I mean it.
But I like to think that anyone can change.
Stop voting for people you want to have a beer with. Stop voting for folksy. Stop voting for people who remind you of your neighbor. Stop voting for the ideologically intransigent, the staggeringly ignorant, and the blazingly incompetent.
Vote for someone smarter than you. Vote for someone who inspires you. Vote for someone who has not only traveled the world but who has also shown a deep understanding and compassion for it. The stakes are real and they're terrifyingly high. This election matters. It matters. It really matters. Let me say that one more time. This. Really. Matters.
She said "nucular." Twice.
I realized three things tonight. For one, if you are a McCain/Palin/Bush voter, you and I do not have a difference of opinion. We have a difference in brain power. Two, she really is as ignorant as I feared. And, three, she really is kinda hot. Basically, I want to have sex with her on my Barack Obama sheets while my wife reads aloud from the Constitution. (My wife is cool with this if I promise to "first wipe off Palin's tranny makeup." I married well.)
Now, I want to be clear and speak directly to those of you who LOVED that Palin interview. You're an idiot. I mean that. This is not one of those cases where we're going to agree to disagree. This isn't one of those situations where we debate it passionately and then walk away thinking that the other guy is wrong but argued well. I'm not going to think of you as a thoughtful but misguided person with different ideas who still really cares about the country and the world. No, sorry, not this time. This time, if you watched that interview and weren't scared out of your freakin' mind, then you're mentally ill, mentally disabled, or mentally disturbed. What you are NOT is responsible, informed, curious, thoughtful, mature, educated, empathetic, or remotely serious. I mean it.
But I like to think that anyone can change.
Stop voting for people you want to have a beer with. Stop voting for folksy. Stop voting for people who remind you of your neighbor. Stop voting for the ideologically intransigent, the staggeringly ignorant, and the blazingly incompetent.
Vote for someone smarter than you. Vote for someone who inspires you. Vote for someone who has not only traveled the world but who has also shown a deep understanding and compassion for it. The stakes are real and they're terrifyingly high. This election matters. It matters. It really matters. Let me say that one more time. This. Really. Matters.
A coke whoring smile? What?
I'm betting that was read to me wrong. At least, I sincerely hope so. Because if you're advertising that you're a coke whore, you must be in worse shape that even I thought. Of course...you might be willing to advertise it, so who knows. Or it might be that you drink so much coke, or used so much coke once upon a time that maybe that was just the natural state of things, so coke and smiles go hand in hand. Far be it from me to knock anyone for thinking that a smile with coke is wrong?
Meh. I'm kind of feeling under the weather, so I'm a little bit out of it, and I might kind of be rambling around in a circle, and thought that a coke whoring smile struck me as funny. Almost as funny as being begged to stop whatever the hell it is that I'm supposedly doing these days. Although I hear that's been changed back to the very satisfied back in business, or whatever the fuck it's set to right now. I should probably go look, except that I don't know what her last name is, and I don't have her as a friend. Ah, well. Too bad, so sad, etc.
Well, I got sent home from school on Saturday, due to a slight case of being green, and contagious. That was, um. Saturday morning at around 9 a.m. Then it was around Sunday noon, when I was awake again. There were sixteen missed calls on my phone. I guess people noticed I was missing? I returned those. Brody brought me pot pie, which I'm currently eating, (it's very nom nom nom, btw) and I've drank about four pots of tea, and about a quart of Gatorade, which is nasty, but is at least replacing fluid. And I'm not throwing up, which is good.
If I'm not feeling completely like a human by Tuesday, I'll take my ass down to St. Agnes, and let them do their trick with IVs and drugs, etc. So everyone can stop worrying, and calling people who *should not be bothered*. Okay? Danny, I apologize, as I have no doubt you still read this, and it won't happen again. I yelled, and made it very clear that no one should have gotten hold of you in the first place. Everyone definitely gets the point now. And Phillip? Good call on the whole changing of your phone number thing. I'm guessing at this point Danny probably wishes he could, except that his is a work assigned number.
For future reference? No matter how worried any of you guys get about me? If I say I'm not feeling well, and I'm going to sleep? I'll be sleeping for possibly several *days*. It might take that long for me to resurface. Don't go thinking I've died. I know how to take care of myself. If I thought I was in imminent danger, I would have gone directly to the hospital, not to bed. I'm not stupid, alright? In much the same way if I figure I'm not going to get any better within a couple of days, I'll haul my ass to the hospital then. I'm not a complete idiot, and I'm aware there's no one here to take care of me. I do just fine on my own these days. Stop worrying. I appreciate the idea, but I'll be fine.
Now, what was I saying before I veered off into being sick? Oh, yeah. Pot pie. Thanks Brody. It was good, and now, I'm gonna go read a couple of chapters for Speech, take the quizzes, and probably go back to sleep, which means I will most likely not be answering the phone again. G'nite.
Meh. I'm kind of feeling under the weather, so I'm a little bit out of it, and I might kind of be rambling around in a circle, and thought that a coke whoring smile struck me as funny. Almost as funny as being begged to stop whatever the hell it is that I'm supposedly doing these days. Although I hear that's been changed back to the very satisfied back in business, or whatever the fuck it's set to right now. I should probably go look, except that I don't know what her last name is, and I don't have her as a friend. Ah, well. Too bad, so sad, etc.
Well, I got sent home from school on Saturday, due to a slight case of being green, and contagious. That was, um. Saturday morning at around 9 a.m. Then it was around Sunday noon, when I was awake again. There were sixteen missed calls on my phone. I guess people noticed I was missing? I returned those. Brody brought me pot pie, which I'm currently eating, (it's very nom nom nom, btw) and I've drank about four pots of tea, and about a quart of Gatorade, which is nasty, but is at least replacing fluid. And I'm not throwing up, which is good.
If I'm not feeling completely like a human by Tuesday, I'll take my ass down to St. Agnes, and let them do their trick with IVs and drugs, etc. So everyone can stop worrying, and calling people who *should not be bothered*. Okay? Danny, I apologize, as I have no doubt you still read this, and it won't happen again. I yelled, and made it very clear that no one should have gotten hold of you in the first place. Everyone definitely gets the point now. And Phillip? Good call on the whole changing of your phone number thing. I'm guessing at this point Danny probably wishes he could, except that his is a work assigned number.
For future reference? No matter how worried any of you guys get about me? If I say I'm not feeling well, and I'm going to sleep? I'll be sleeping for possibly several *days*. It might take that long for me to resurface. Don't go thinking I've died. I know how to take care of myself. If I thought I was in imminent danger, I would have gone directly to the hospital, not to bed. I'm not stupid, alright? In much the same way if I figure I'm not going to get any better within a couple of days, I'll haul my ass to the hospital then. I'm not a complete idiot, and I'm aware there's no one here to take care of me. I do just fine on my own these days. Stop worrying. I appreciate the idea, but I'll be fine.
Now, what was I saying before I veered off into being sick? Oh, yeah. Pot pie. Thanks Brody. It was good, and now, I'm gonna go read a couple of chapters for Speech, take the quizzes, and probably go back to sleep, which means I will most likely not be answering the phone again. G'nite.
Secret word of the week
This week it's:
"pathetic"
As in: I find it pathetic that you're so thrilled that everything is just wonderful for you, based on whether or not I'm doing well. Wonder if you realize that he thinks you're boring as a stump, and that sex with you was equally tediously boring? LOL.
"pathetic"
As in: I find it pathetic that you're so thrilled that everything is just wonderful for you, based on whether or not I'm doing well. Wonder if you realize that he thinks you're boring as a stump, and that sex with you was equally tediously boring? LOL.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Well that clinched it.
There's not a snowball's fucking chance in hell I'd vote for McCain if someone held a gun to my head. Because of his VP pick, Palin. And she can go fuck herself. And I'm not usually this outspoken about it, but obviously, she felt the need to be outspoken about abortion in 2006, which kind of opened the door. Planned Parenthood will be making quite a bit of money in donations because of her. Which is cool, because hey, I fully support Planned Parenthood. But Sarah Palin? Fuck that. She's actually spouted off as saying in 2006 in the article that's linked there that if her daughter was raped, she'd be against her having an abortion? And she wants to overturn Roe vs Wade? I have problems with this. A lot of problems with this.
Me, personally? Not planning on having an abortion. Do I think that they need to be legal? Absofuckinglutely. Women's right to choose, for the win. And that's how it should remain. There is no reason under the sun for a woman who is raped, at any point, to have to bear the child of her rapist. There is no reason for an incest victim to need to bear that child. EVER. For any reason. Abortion should never again be illegal. It just doesn't make sense. And places like Planned Parenthood help to make that possible.
Did I sign the petitions to keep parents from being notified if a minor needed to have such a procedure performed? Yes, I did. And yes, I always will. Because I know and support the reality of such situations. In a perfect world, maybe, everything would be bunnies and sunshine, and every girl would be able to go home and tell her parents that she's in trouble and everything would work out. But life doesn't work that way. And bad things happen, and sometimes it's just not safe.
Do I go out and vote on election day? Hell yes, I do. Because even if it's just my one piddly little vote, it gives me the right to voice my opinion, and not be a silent bystander. If you don't vote, then you have to right to say anything. You didn't care enough to stand and speak, then you need to sit down and shut up.
Anyway, back to Palin. I won't vote to support someone who wants to push back progress, and that appears to be what she's doing. I didn't like McCain in the first place. But I like him even less now.
Me, personally? Not planning on having an abortion. Do I think that they need to be legal? Absofuckinglutely. Women's right to choose, for the win. And that's how it should remain. There is no reason under the sun for a woman who is raped, at any point, to have to bear the child of her rapist. There is no reason for an incest victim to need to bear that child. EVER. For any reason. Abortion should never again be illegal. It just doesn't make sense. And places like Planned Parenthood help to make that possible.
Did I sign the petitions to keep parents from being notified if a minor needed to have such a procedure performed? Yes, I did. And yes, I always will. Because I know and support the reality of such situations. In a perfect world, maybe, everything would be bunnies and sunshine, and every girl would be able to go home and tell her parents that she's in trouble and everything would work out. But life doesn't work that way. And bad things happen, and sometimes it's just not safe.
Do I go out and vote on election day? Hell yes, I do. Because even if it's just my one piddly little vote, it gives me the right to voice my opinion, and not be a silent bystander. If you don't vote, then you have to right to say anything. You didn't care enough to stand and speak, then you need to sit down and shut up.
Anyway, back to Palin. I won't vote to support someone who wants to push back progress, and that appears to be what she's doing. I didn't like McCain in the first place. But I like him even less now.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
I am a grammar Nazi
And it's killing me. So the discussion boards for my classes, they're killing me. Observe an excerpt from one of my forums:
"In American back in the days, I thought that slavery was so cruelty and people was mistreated especially for the black people. Slavery wasn't even treated fairly like a person who is working at a job, it was worst because they have to suffered through pain end even death. It was not in equal right for people at all during the history of American, but now people in the U.S.A are all treated with equal rights. An interested observation is that slavery people were braved enough just to fight through all the pain they had suffer through, some won't even speak about the history of slavery but some are courageously enough too tell about the history of slavery."
This pains me. It almost physically pains me. It makes me want to send the grammar Nazi to him, or send him a link like this one, to Fixing common grammar mistakes and then send him a link to dictionary.com so that he can learn to both use proper English, and spell things correctly.
Yes, I make typos. Everyone does. And yes, when I'm feeling snarky, I will put the strangest things up.
But if you're going to post on an educational forum for discussion? *Don't fuck it up*. This is your best foot forward, people! And if you're going to snark someone on a forum? DO NOT FUCK UP. Because it will make you look like a colossal moron. If you're too illiterate to be posting something, that's what spell and grammar check is *for* in the first place. Use it, it's your friend! Love it! Feel the love!
Yes, sorry for the rant. I've just had to slog through 19 posts from such literate persons, and it was painful. And I have several more to go. Which are most likely going to be equally painful. At least I'm going to look good by comparison?
"In American back in the days, I thought that slavery was so cruelty and people was mistreated especially for the black people. Slavery wasn't even treated fairly like a person who is working at a job, it was worst because they have to suffered through pain end even death. It was not in equal right for people at all during the history of American, but now people in the U.S.A are all treated with equal rights. An interested observation is that slavery people were braved enough just to fight through all the pain they had suffer through, some won't even speak about the history of slavery but some are courageously enough too tell about the history of slavery."
This pains me. It almost physically pains me. It makes me want to send the grammar Nazi to him, or send him a link like this one, to Fixing common grammar mistakes and then send him a link to dictionary.com so that he can learn to both use proper English, and spell things correctly.
Yes, I make typos. Everyone does. And yes, when I'm feeling snarky, I will put the strangest things up.
But if you're going to post on an educational forum for discussion? *Don't fuck it up*. This is your best foot forward, people! And if you're going to snark someone on a forum? DO NOT FUCK UP. Because it will make you look like a colossal moron. If you're too illiterate to be posting something, that's what spell and grammar check is *for* in the first place. Use it, it's your friend! Love it! Feel the love!
Yes, sorry for the rant. I've just had to slog through 19 posts from such literate persons, and it was painful. And I have several more to go. Which are most likely going to be equally painful. At least I'm going to look good by comparison?
Whacking and chainsaws
Are kind of ruining my peace and quiet. Thus, earplugs FTW. So I hope no one tries to call, as I had to put earplugs in, because I would otherwise not be able to hear myself think, and I like being able to hear myself think.
There's massive construction/repairs going on at my apartment complex, which is nice, because it means that the property owners care enough to make sure the place is maintained, but bad insofar as that it's very noisy, getting it accomplished. Chainsaws are very loud. So is hammering. And other such construction related noises.
And it's landscaping day, so they're running their power equipment as well, and so it's just very noisy out there. And so I'll hide in earplugs until they're finished, as I'm already brewing one hell of a headache, which I'm kind of hoping to head off.
My entire day got a little bit blown to hell as it is, which I'm not thrilled about, but there isn't much I can do about, and I'm going to end up spending the better part of tomorrow with yet another batch of doctors, clinicians, and techs doing various exams, which was the plan for today, except that *someone* didn't send the correct referral forms. AGAIN.
Mental note to myself to call in advance and make sure they have all the damn paperwork. So one of the ultrasounds got done. Some lab work got done. Some prescriptions were written. And all the rest of it will get done tomorrow. Fucking yay.
I need to take the Thunderbird in and get it checked over by a mechanic, as it seems that the engine mounts may need to be tightened down. No idea how much that's going to run me. And I'm due for brakes, and an oil change, among other things. Always something, right? But I can't afford to let my car fall into disrepair, so I'll take care of it as soon as I can.
And I'm not feeling so hot lately, as evidenced by Brody watching one of my spinny episodes earlier today, which I think is kind of rattling her cage. She got to see one of my lupus flares in living colour a few weeks ago, which is kind of disconcerting, if you aren't expected it. Watching my skin kind of start blistering in front of you is sort of unnerving when it happens in seconds flat. We threw a towel across my arms, got her home, and I headed directly home to stay out of the sun. But I think it shocked her. Hearing me say that my skin blisters, and watching a blister form that quickly just aren't quite the same, and I always forget how creepy it can be.
I think that my meds are going to be tinkered about with this new batch of bloodwork. OH OH OH! But on a fucking happy note, I ran all over hell and gone this morning, and when they did my blood pressure, right after all the jogging? That shit came in at 111/70. Dead on normal, which means that all the exercise I've been doing lately is actually making me more the healthy, because generally if I get over-exerted, when they pop the cuff on me, it runs at least a little high, until I've been sitting for a few minutes. That's apparently not the case anymore. I was rather pleased by that. So yay for me, and my bouncy-bouncy-bouncy.
I finally have a quasi-goal in mind for myself, for what I want to be when I grow...down? LOL. That sounded funny even to me. I have this kind of strange ghosty picture in my mind, of an outfit I vaguely remember as being one of my favourites when I was 16-17 years old. And that outfit is something I saw on someone else recently, who is my height, and my body frame, but much lighter than I am. She's not stick-thin, but she had what I'm shooting for. And it suddenly dawned on me that she was dressed in clothes I would have worn once upon a time. And then I realized what weight range I'll need to be in, to look like that. And I was content then, because now I can has a goal. It's a vague, misty goal, to be sure. But it's a goal, and that made me happy. So I'll putter along, in ten pound increments, and perhaps I'll someday achieve my goal, and then I'll go buy a bodysuit, and see if I look like the Crystal I remember.
That might be nice. Looking at me in the mirror, and seeing the Crystal I remember looking back at me...having that confidence back would be good. I don't want to be that angry, angsty girl. But I sure would like her body back :)
Okay, I'm going to have to go take something for this headache, and maybe make some tea.
There's massive construction/repairs going on at my apartment complex, which is nice, because it means that the property owners care enough to make sure the place is maintained, but bad insofar as that it's very noisy, getting it accomplished. Chainsaws are very loud. So is hammering. And other such construction related noises.
And it's landscaping day, so they're running their power equipment as well, and so it's just very noisy out there. And so I'll hide in earplugs until they're finished, as I'm already brewing one hell of a headache, which I'm kind of hoping to head off.
My entire day got a little bit blown to hell as it is, which I'm not thrilled about, but there isn't much I can do about, and I'm going to end up spending the better part of tomorrow with yet another batch of doctors, clinicians, and techs doing various exams, which was the plan for today, except that *someone* didn't send the correct referral forms. AGAIN.
Mental note to myself to call in advance and make sure they have all the damn paperwork. So one of the ultrasounds got done. Some lab work got done. Some prescriptions were written. And all the rest of it will get done tomorrow. Fucking yay.
I need to take the Thunderbird in and get it checked over by a mechanic, as it seems that the engine mounts may need to be tightened down. No idea how much that's going to run me. And I'm due for brakes, and an oil change, among other things. Always something, right? But I can't afford to let my car fall into disrepair, so I'll take care of it as soon as I can.
And I'm not feeling so hot lately, as evidenced by Brody watching one of my spinny episodes earlier today, which I think is kind of rattling her cage. She got to see one of my lupus flares in living colour a few weeks ago, which is kind of disconcerting, if you aren't expected it. Watching my skin kind of start blistering in front of you is sort of unnerving when it happens in seconds flat. We threw a towel across my arms, got her home, and I headed directly home to stay out of the sun. But I think it shocked her. Hearing me say that my skin blisters, and watching a blister form that quickly just aren't quite the same, and I always forget how creepy it can be.
I think that my meds are going to be tinkered about with this new batch of bloodwork. OH OH OH! But on a fucking happy note, I ran all over hell and gone this morning, and when they did my blood pressure, right after all the jogging? That shit came in at 111/70. Dead on normal, which means that all the exercise I've been doing lately is actually making me more the healthy, because generally if I get over-exerted, when they pop the cuff on me, it runs at least a little high, until I've been sitting for a few minutes. That's apparently not the case anymore. I was rather pleased by that. So yay for me, and my bouncy-bouncy-bouncy.
I finally have a quasi-goal in mind for myself, for what I want to be when I grow...down? LOL. That sounded funny even to me. I have this kind of strange ghosty picture in my mind, of an outfit I vaguely remember as being one of my favourites when I was 16-17 years old. And that outfit is something I saw on someone else recently, who is my height, and my body frame, but much lighter than I am. She's not stick-thin, but she had what I'm shooting for. And it suddenly dawned on me that she was dressed in clothes I would have worn once upon a time. And then I realized what weight range I'll need to be in, to look like that. And I was content then, because now I can has a goal. It's a vague, misty goal, to be sure. But it's a goal, and that made me happy. So I'll putter along, in ten pound increments, and perhaps I'll someday achieve my goal, and then I'll go buy a bodysuit, and see if I look like the Crystal I remember.
That might be nice. Looking at me in the mirror, and seeing the Crystal I remember looking back at me...having that confidence back would be good. I don't want to be that angry, angsty girl. But I sure would like her body back :)
Okay, I'm going to have to go take something for this headache, and maybe make some tea.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
NSFW? Penis enlargement
At the request of one of my readers, I'll preface this one with NSFW, because it might not be. So I'm scanning what I get as spam in my inbox today, and it dawned on me that I get three primary types of spam email. I get ads for painkiller narcotics from various places, I get a ton of spam from universities and scholarship stuff, and I get ads for "Grow your p3n0r NOW NOW NOW" or "do you want a better sex life"?
Now what amuses me the most about this, is that I can't figure out how I got onto all of these mailing lists. The medication/painkiller ones make sense. The educational spam sites make sense. But all of the penile enlargement and have a better sex life, etc? I've been getting them for the last six to eight months, and I never surf around on pr0n sites, and I don't buy that kind of thing online, and thank you, but I've never had partners who need "penis enlargement" or "erectile enhancement" or any of the other things...
Which makes me wonder who signed me up for all this bullshit spam, and thought that whoever I was sleeping with at the time was going to be having trouble in the sack. Because honestly? None of them are bad in bed. Good lays, matter of fact.
For everything I have to say about being jerks or whatever, they're good in bed. I wouldn't have kept fucking them if they weren't. So whoever signed me up for the spam must have gotten the shaft in some other way...perhaps it isn't that the men were the problem?
C'est la vie. But yeah. I continue on my way, and I smile with bemusement at my inbox when that stuff shows up, because really, I don't want or need anything to keep my partner hard. I don't need him to "grow three inches!", and I don't really see a need for the secrets to a better sexual experience. I've got that down pat.
Essentially? Rod "A", slot "B", rinse. Repeat. Throw in really good oral sex, with a fun, willing, excited partner, who enjoys what she's doing. Make sure to have both parties not be able to keep their hands off each other, and cue up clothes falling to the floor on a regular basis, i.e., at least 5 days a week, more often if possible. There should be blow jobs a minimum of four days a week, ladies, if anyone wants my opinion. And a blow job isn't worthwhile if it doesn't last at least a half an hour, preferably longer. You're supposed to be worshiping that particular piece of equipment, not trying to avoid it. This is something you're doing to show that you enjoy yourself, and what you do for him. It's not degrading, and it's not "yucky". Try it, it's tasty and fun! And no, this is not "I'll do it for him, but I better be getting something in return." If that's your attitude? You're doing it wrong.
Anyhoo. I guess I still figure these days that sex isn't supposed to be self-centered. It's about pleasing your partner, and about sharing, and being an equal participant in an activity both parties should enjoy. There isn't a scorecard, and you should care enough about your partner to want them to be satisfied. And if both people are devoted to that goal, in equal measure, then everything should be awesome. You should be learning what turns the other person on, and how to make them feel the very best they can, every time. Because that's important, and should never be neglected. You should know someone well enough, and trust them enough, to be willing to speak up, and say "hey, let's try this", or "I'd like you to do that to me". And if you can't, or won't, then perhaps that isn't the right partner for you. Because trust is a big deal, especially if you're willing to be naked and exposed with someone.
Perhaps I'll pick up this topic again later, right now? I have beasts to slay, and dinner to cook, among other things to do tonight :)
Catch everybody on the flip side.
Now what amuses me the most about this, is that I can't figure out how I got onto all of these mailing lists. The medication/painkiller ones make sense. The educational spam sites make sense. But all of the penile enlargement and have a better sex life, etc? I've been getting them for the last six to eight months, and I never surf around on pr0n sites, and I don't buy that kind of thing online, and thank you, but I've never had partners who need "penis enlargement" or "erectile enhancement" or any of the other things...
Which makes me wonder who signed me up for all this bullshit spam, and thought that whoever I was sleeping with at the time was going to be having trouble in the sack. Because honestly? None of them are bad in bed. Good lays, matter of fact.
For everything I have to say about being jerks or whatever, they're good in bed. I wouldn't have kept fucking them if they weren't. So whoever signed me up for the spam must have gotten the shaft in some other way...perhaps it isn't that the men were the problem?
C'est la vie. But yeah. I continue on my way, and I smile with bemusement at my inbox when that stuff shows up, because really, I don't want or need anything to keep my partner hard. I don't need him to "grow three inches!", and I don't really see a need for the secrets to a better sexual experience. I've got that down pat.
Essentially? Rod "A", slot "B", rinse. Repeat. Throw in really good oral sex, with a fun, willing, excited partner, who enjoys what she's doing. Make sure to have both parties not be able to keep their hands off each other, and cue up clothes falling to the floor on a regular basis, i.e., at least 5 days a week, more often if possible. There should be blow jobs a minimum of four days a week, ladies, if anyone wants my opinion. And a blow job isn't worthwhile if it doesn't last at least a half an hour, preferably longer. You're supposed to be worshiping that particular piece of equipment, not trying to avoid it. This is something you're doing to show that you enjoy yourself, and what you do for him. It's not degrading, and it's not "yucky". Try it, it's tasty and fun! And no, this is not "I'll do it for him, but I better be getting something in return." If that's your attitude? You're doing it wrong.
Anyhoo. I guess I still figure these days that sex isn't supposed to be self-centered. It's about pleasing your partner, and about sharing, and being an equal participant in an activity both parties should enjoy. There isn't a scorecard, and you should care enough about your partner to want them to be satisfied. And if both people are devoted to that goal, in equal measure, then everything should be awesome. You should be learning what turns the other person on, and how to make them feel the very best they can, every time. Because that's important, and should never be neglected. You should know someone well enough, and trust them enough, to be willing to speak up, and say "hey, let's try this", or "I'd like you to do that to me". And if you can't, or won't, then perhaps that isn't the right partner for you. Because trust is a big deal, especially if you're willing to be naked and exposed with someone.
Perhaps I'll pick up this topic again later, right now? I have beasts to slay, and dinner to cook, among other things to do tonight :)
Catch everybody on the flip side.
Monday, September 22, 2008
Resentment and coping
Ich dachte heute an Groll und die Tatsache dass, während ich in der Tat viele Leute in den letzten sechs oder so Monate übelgenommen habe, ich habe mich entschieden schließlich, sie gehen zu lassen und habe angefangen das Arbeiten durch es. Während der Zorn hell und heiß brannte, jetzt alles that' gelassenes s sind die Asche dieses Zornes und eine Richtung des Verlustes der Freundschaften und des verweilenden traurigen Gedächtnisses. Diese Richtung der konstanten Notwendigkeit, zu wissen, was an in ihre Leben gehen konnte und ob ich sie zurück in meine versuchen und holen könnte, wird jetzt gegangen. Und der Frieden des Habens meiner Vernunftsrückseite hat zurückgegangen. Ich bin ungewiß in Angriff nehmend, wenn ich mein gesamtes Leben unter einer Wolke des Grolls ständig leben könnte, eifersüchtig von, was andere haben, und sie aus keinem Grund. Ich denke, dass er mich langsam fahren konnte geisteskrank. Tatsächlich bin ich sicher, dass er wurde. Die Wahrheit ist, dass die einzige Person, die Sein eifersüchtig und verärgert an anderen ständig verletzt, selbst ist. Und ich wuchs von der Verletzung müde. Ich wuchs müde, träge, vom Wundern, was ich getan hatte und seiend eifersüchtig. Jetzt möchte ich und am Frieden allein sein. Gefüllt mit der Ruhe, die ich für vorher bewilligt genommen hatte. Bevor sie ganz explodierte und bevor ich in Kreise innerhalb meines Kopfes spann.
How to cope with anger and resentment.
How to cope with anger and resentment.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Secret word of the week
This week my secret word of the week is:
"ashes"
And this is my explanation for "ashes":
Ich würde Ihnen eine Liebe gegeben haben, die eine Lebenszeit gedauert haben würde. Jetzt gebe ich Ihnen nichts. Sie verrieten mich mit jedem Wort, jeder Gedanke, jede Tätigkeit. Was gelassen wird, ist Asche.
Je t'aurais donné un amour qui aurait duré une vie. Maintenant je ne te donnerai rien. Vous m'avez trahi avec chaque mot, chaque pensée, chaque action. Ce qui est laissé est des cendres.
"ashes"
And this is my explanation for "ashes":
Ich würde Ihnen eine Liebe gegeben haben, die eine Lebenszeit gedauert haben würde. Jetzt gebe ich Ihnen nichts. Sie verrieten mich mit jedem Wort, jeder Gedanke, jede Tätigkeit. Was gelassen wird, ist Asche.
Je t'aurais donné un amour qui aurait duré une vie. Maintenant je ne te donnerai rien. Vous m'avez trahi avec chaque mot, chaque pensée, chaque action. Ce qui est laissé est des cendres.
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Thanks for the interest, everyone
Yesterday I had 7726 hits on my blog. Today, when I logged in? There were 7819. Thanks for the interest everyone is showing in what I have to say. I have to admit I do appreciate knowing that everyone is reading.
I went and picked up the first in a series of medication pickups today, and catastrophic coverage does indeed mean that I don't have co-pays through the end of the year. 'Chelle and I both sat and held our breath waiting for the pharmacy tech to ask me for money, which she didn't. So yay for that.
And yay for discovering that I can get pure maple syrup for a decent price, because I had a craving for maple & brown sugar oatmeal, and discovered that what I have in my refrigerator is *not* maple syrup. Eww. I now have it, and will probably have that for dinner.
Okay, that's it for right now, I need to go and do some housekeeping around here. But again, thanks for the interest, I always appreciate knowing that people stop by and read what I have to say.
I went and picked up the first in a series of medication pickups today, and catastrophic coverage does indeed mean that I don't have co-pays through the end of the year. 'Chelle and I both sat and held our breath waiting for the pharmacy tech to ask me for money, which she didn't. So yay for that.
And yay for discovering that I can get pure maple syrup for a decent price, because I had a craving for maple & brown sugar oatmeal, and discovered that what I have in my refrigerator is *not* maple syrup. Eww. I now have it, and will probably have that for dinner.
Okay, that's it for right now, I need to go and do some housekeeping around here. But again, thanks for the interest, I always appreciate knowing that people stop by and read what I have to say.
Friday, September 19, 2008
When boys play at being men, the end results can be disastrous
"You couldn't be that man I adored..."
I'm in the clear for the rest of the weekend, and I have no intention of doing anything else but suiting myself. Thanks to Sissa for giving me a hand this morning so I could catch everything up, and now I'm good to go. Furious still, but good to go.
And it's a good, clear, not-even-losing-my-speech fury. There's nothing left except that. I'm not broken, I'm just angry. And it's clear now, and there's nothing here. I was hoping that things would be salvaged that can't. My fault, I guess I was more of an optimist than I would have believed possible, and that's fine.
I refuse to give that up. But just because you never grew up, and you want to walk in place? That's your own problem, and not mine. You can't fuck her, and have me to give you everything else. You don't get to have a "relationship" with her, while I fill all the rest of your needs. Doesn't work that way.
I deserve better than that, and you deserve to lie in the bed you chose. Bored, and dealing with what you wanted. And it *is* what you wanted, and you deserve to be bored brainless. She can't even have a decent conversation, and we both know it.
You don't want me, you don't love me, you don't need me, you're an adult and your own person? Fine. You wanted it that way, now go ahead and prove it. I have proven that I'm an adult. I'm standing here, in the clear, and I'm not ashamed of what I've done.
I haven't hurt you. I didn't abandon you. I fought for you, I helped you. I loved you, I trusted you, and I did everything in my power to make everything work. I bent over backwards helping you, and keeping everything running smoothly for you, over and over and over. I tried to be what you wanted, and tried to give you what you asked for. Even when it hurt me. Even when it was wrong, and made me feel like shit, so that it would make *you* happy.
And you did...absolutely nothing in return. Does that make you feel good about yourself? That you would treat someone that way? What does that say about you as a person? As a man? Because what it says to me is that you're not a man, you're still a boy, playing at being a man.
A man stands up for his friends. A man doesn't abandon those friends just to get his dick wet. A man is loyal, and backs up his words with actions, and a man is honorable.
Boys play. Men? Real men, act with respect, and with conscience, and with integrity. Apparently I need to remember that, before I get myself mixed up with anyone else, and take a good, hard look at people before I get emotionally entangled with anyone again. Because I refuse to be walked all over again, by boys.
Now playing: Torn - Natalie Imbruglia
I'm in the clear for the rest of the weekend, and I have no intention of doing anything else but suiting myself. Thanks to Sissa for giving me a hand this morning so I could catch everything up, and now I'm good to go. Furious still, but good to go.
And it's a good, clear, not-even-losing-my-speech fury. There's nothing left except that. I'm not broken, I'm just angry. And it's clear now, and there's nothing here. I was hoping that things would be salvaged that can't. My fault, I guess I was more of an optimist than I would have believed possible, and that's fine.
I refuse to give that up. But just because you never grew up, and you want to walk in place? That's your own problem, and not mine. You can't fuck her, and have me to give you everything else. You don't get to have a "relationship" with her, while I fill all the rest of your needs. Doesn't work that way.
I deserve better than that, and you deserve to lie in the bed you chose. Bored, and dealing with what you wanted. And it *is* what you wanted, and you deserve to be bored brainless. She can't even have a decent conversation, and we both know it.
You don't want me, you don't love me, you don't need me, you're an adult and your own person? Fine. You wanted it that way, now go ahead and prove it. I have proven that I'm an adult. I'm standing here, in the clear, and I'm not ashamed of what I've done.
I haven't hurt you. I didn't abandon you. I fought for you, I helped you. I loved you, I trusted you, and I did everything in my power to make everything work. I bent over backwards helping you, and keeping everything running smoothly for you, over and over and over. I tried to be what you wanted, and tried to give you what you asked for. Even when it hurt me. Even when it was wrong, and made me feel like shit, so that it would make *you* happy.
And you did...absolutely nothing in return. Does that make you feel good about yourself? That you would treat someone that way? What does that say about you as a person? As a man? Because what it says to me is that you're not a man, you're still a boy, playing at being a man.
A man stands up for his friends. A man doesn't abandon those friends just to get his dick wet. A man is loyal, and backs up his words with actions, and a man is honorable.
Boys play. Men? Real men, act with respect, and with conscience, and with integrity. Apparently I need to remember that, before I get myself mixed up with anyone else, and take a good, hard look at people before I get emotionally entangled with anyone again. Because I refuse to be walked all over again, by boys.
Now playing: Torn - Natalie Imbruglia
Oh, yeah. For reference?
I really no longer give a shit what anyone thinks of me, what I write here, or whether or not it offends.
And prior to now, I have been attempting civility.
Be forewarned: If you don't like what I have to say? Stay the fuck off my blog.
And yes, if you have to wonder if it applies to you?
YES IT FUCKING APPLIES TO YOU.
And prior to now, I have been attempting civility.
Be forewarned: If you don't like what I have to say? Stay the fuck off my blog.
And yes, if you have to wonder if it applies to you?
YES IT FUCKING APPLIES TO YOU.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
On the good ship, lollipop...
I've still got a fair amount of stuff I need to get done for school, and I'll get to it, but my solution for my current problems? Is to simply go and burn off my frustration with sex. A lot of it, since there's no good reason not to.
The simple truth is that the men that I care about and love, they don't give a shit about me, not if they stop and really think honestly to themselves. Or if they actually do care about me, in any fashion? They have done one stellar job of proving that they can treat me like absolute garbage, with no concern in the slightest for my well-being, or concern for my feelings.
In one corner, we have my supposed best friend Danny, who managed to say without so much as considering the implications of it, that of course if things go south, he'd be able to move back in with me. Sure he would! Notwithstanding the fact that for the entire last year, I've had to rebuild my life without him, because he moved on without a backward glance in my direction, and I was just supposed to be fine with that, while he fucked her silly in front of me. But of course, if everything falls apart with her, sure he'd be able to move right back in, because hey, why wouldn't he be able to? What the fuck? Does he seriously not see how crass that was, on the heels of "okay" in the termination of communication, and a friendship, the automatic assumption that of course he'd be able to and welcome to move back in? What am I? However much I might care, does that give you leave to treat me as disposable while you ignore me 90% of the time, and ban me from your house, and basically ditch our friendship, and expect to be welcome to live here if she dumps you? And you expect to *not* be hated? Seriously? And me to not be offended, and you expect hugs, and everything to be bunnies and fucking sunshine?
And in the other corner, we have Phillip, who swore up and down, knowing how insecure I was, that if Colleen gave him an ultimatum, he was not going to walk away from a friendship that he valued, because of a woman. He wasn't that spineless, and he would never abandon a friend he trusted and depended on. He wouldn't allow an ultimatum of that sort, ever. We'd discussed it at length, and I laughed at him, and told him that he'd never choose a friend over a girlfriend, and he assured me repeatedly, that he'd never do that, abandon a friend. I was being silly, and I should stop worrying.
Cue the shitty two-line email, and never hearing from him again, when the ultimatum came down, and the fact that she did exactly what I'd predicted, and he never did bother to contact me again. And I wasn't at fault in that entire mess, and I never did hurt him. We were friends. We were lovers. And he walked away from that friendship without a backwards glance, without any apology, because he had to have her. And he never returned. So much for the value of friendship, or loyalty, or anything else.
So now, I'm not really inclined to go looking to have a "boyfriend", or looking for a commitment. Looking to get laid? Sure, sex is fun, and I like to fuck and get off just as much as anybody else. But trusting someone to not screw me over? Not a chance. Because the people I trusted, have completely fucked me over. I don't have any belief at all that someone is going to look at me, and see something kind and tender, and not completely rip it away.
Oh, I value myself just fine these days, make no mistake about that. I actually do have quite a lot of self-esteem, and I know what I want. But what I want isn't to allow anyone else to get close now, and to give them the opportunity to rip me to shreds again, and leave. I tried that, doesn't work for me.
I don't need you anymore. You've both done an outstanding job of proving to me just how little I was valued by either of you, ever. You've done a beautiful job of teaching me how to stand on my own, and how to take what I want, without feeling any need to give anything back now. Thanks for that. I guess I needed a wake up call. Maybe I should have learned sooner how to be a little more selfish.
Perhaps I should learn how to pretend to be a self-centered pampered little princess too, and then maybe *all* the boys will try to fall in love with me, and I can grind them under my heels like the women you two morons seem to want to chase after, and I can sit and laugh at you just like they do.
The simple truth is that the men that I care about and love, they don't give a shit about me, not if they stop and really think honestly to themselves. Or if they actually do care about me, in any fashion? They have done one stellar job of proving that they can treat me like absolute garbage, with no concern in the slightest for my well-being, or concern for my feelings.
In one corner, we have my supposed best friend Danny, who managed to say without so much as considering the implications of it, that of course if things go south, he'd be able to move back in with me. Sure he would! Notwithstanding the fact that for the entire last year, I've had to rebuild my life without him, because he moved on without a backward glance in my direction, and I was just supposed to be fine with that, while he fucked her silly in front of me. But of course, if everything falls apart with her, sure he'd be able to move right back in, because hey, why wouldn't he be able to? What the fuck? Does he seriously not see how crass that was, on the heels of "okay" in the termination of communication, and a friendship, the automatic assumption that of course he'd be able to and welcome to move back in? What am I? However much I might care, does that give you leave to treat me as disposable while you ignore me 90% of the time, and ban me from your house, and basically ditch our friendship, and expect to be welcome to live here if she dumps you? And you expect to *not* be hated? Seriously? And me to not be offended, and you expect hugs, and everything to be bunnies and fucking sunshine?
And in the other corner, we have Phillip, who swore up and down, knowing how insecure I was, that if Colleen gave him an ultimatum, he was not going to walk away from a friendship that he valued, because of a woman. He wasn't that spineless, and he would never abandon a friend he trusted and depended on. He wouldn't allow an ultimatum of that sort, ever. We'd discussed it at length, and I laughed at him, and told him that he'd never choose a friend over a girlfriend, and he assured me repeatedly, that he'd never do that, abandon a friend. I was being silly, and I should stop worrying.
Cue the shitty two-line email, and never hearing from him again, when the ultimatum came down, and the fact that she did exactly what I'd predicted, and he never did bother to contact me again. And I wasn't at fault in that entire mess, and I never did hurt him. We were friends. We were lovers. And he walked away from that friendship without a backwards glance, without any apology, because he had to have her. And he never returned. So much for the value of friendship, or loyalty, or anything else.
So now, I'm not really inclined to go looking to have a "boyfriend", or looking for a commitment. Looking to get laid? Sure, sex is fun, and I like to fuck and get off just as much as anybody else. But trusting someone to not screw me over? Not a chance. Because the people I trusted, have completely fucked me over. I don't have any belief at all that someone is going to look at me, and see something kind and tender, and not completely rip it away.
Oh, I value myself just fine these days, make no mistake about that. I actually do have quite a lot of self-esteem, and I know what I want. But what I want isn't to allow anyone else to get close now, and to give them the opportunity to rip me to shreds again, and leave. I tried that, doesn't work for me.
I don't need you anymore. You've both done an outstanding job of proving to me just how little I was valued by either of you, ever. You've done a beautiful job of teaching me how to stand on my own, and how to take what I want, without feeling any need to give anything back now. Thanks for that. I guess I needed a wake up call. Maybe I should have learned sooner how to be a little more selfish.
Perhaps I should learn how to pretend to be a self-centered pampered little princess too, and then maybe *all* the boys will try to fall in love with me, and I can grind them under my heels like the women you two morons seem to want to chase after, and I can sit and laugh at you just like they do.
Don't you ever tell me it's what *I* wanted
You never lifted a finger to fight for me. Not then, not now, not once, not ever. In my entire life, no one has ever once fought for me.
So don't you ever tell me it's what I wanted. You don't have that right. You never will again. It's what you wanted. It's what you've wanted since the day you listened to me say the words "we should probably break up", and proceeded to start making out with her the next day, and were in her bed within two weeks. And shoving it in my face every single day thereafter, until you finally chased me out of town, because I simply couldn't take it anymore.
So you don't get to tell me it's what I wanted. What I wanted was someone to prove to me that they loved me enough to fight for me, and show it. Not to just shrug and say "okay".
Someone to tell me that I mattered, in any capacity. That I wasn't a disposable thing to them, and could be cast aside without a second thought. That's what I wanted, and no one, ever, has ever bothered to do that.
Everyone has always told me that I wasn't disposable. But when it came right down to it? I was the one cast aside. I was the one who didn't matter, and I was the one who was abandoned. Every single time. So don't tell me it's what I wanted. Because it's bullshit. And you know it.
I never asked to not matter. And you knew what my insecurities were. You've always know that my biggest insecurity was being abandoned, and left behind because I didn't matter enough. That's been my overriding insecurity for my entire life. Because I was the one who never mattered to anybody, and that no one noticed.
So when someone walks out on me, and never comes back? I don't "get over it". And when someone can casually just say "okay", and leave? Yes, I can hate you. Because that is the one thing I can't handle. And you know that. And you've always known that.
I had my heart ripped out of me, and left bleeding on the ground, and then stomped on, and shattered for good measure. And I tried to pick up the pieces, and I took them, and ran away. And every single time I tried to put it all back together, someone needed me, and I help hold them together, because I'm me, and that's what I do. And it never mattered to them, whether or not it was damaging me. Because I was disposable, and once they were done with me, off they went on their merry way. They got what they came for, and they felt better.
And now? Now that I'm trying to hold everything in place? You throw in my face that it's what I want? That's bullshit. This was never what I wanted, and you have no right to ever say that.
And the casual knowledge that if it all goes south, you can always come back and I'll be right here, and you'll be fine? That isn't fair either, and you should be ashamed of yourself for thinking it, much less being willing to say it. Because I went through hell, and had to rebuild my entire life without anyone, and yet, obviously I'll just be right here, and you'll have a safe haven, right?
But it's what I want, to be left alone, and abandoned, so you can have what you want.
So don't you ever tell me it's what I wanted. You don't have that right. You never will again. It's what you wanted. It's what you've wanted since the day you listened to me say the words "we should probably break up", and proceeded to start making out with her the next day, and were in her bed within two weeks. And shoving it in my face every single day thereafter, until you finally chased me out of town, because I simply couldn't take it anymore.
So you don't get to tell me it's what I wanted. What I wanted was someone to prove to me that they loved me enough to fight for me, and show it. Not to just shrug and say "okay".
Someone to tell me that I mattered, in any capacity. That I wasn't a disposable thing to them, and could be cast aside without a second thought. That's what I wanted, and no one, ever, has ever bothered to do that.
Everyone has always told me that I wasn't disposable. But when it came right down to it? I was the one cast aside. I was the one who didn't matter, and I was the one who was abandoned. Every single time. So don't tell me it's what I wanted. Because it's bullshit. And you know it.
I never asked to not matter. And you knew what my insecurities were. You've always know that my biggest insecurity was being abandoned, and left behind because I didn't matter enough. That's been my overriding insecurity for my entire life. Because I was the one who never mattered to anybody, and that no one noticed.
So when someone walks out on me, and never comes back? I don't "get over it". And when someone can casually just say "okay", and leave? Yes, I can hate you. Because that is the one thing I can't handle. And you know that. And you've always known that.
I had my heart ripped out of me, and left bleeding on the ground, and then stomped on, and shattered for good measure. And I tried to pick up the pieces, and I took them, and ran away. And every single time I tried to put it all back together, someone needed me, and I help hold them together, because I'm me, and that's what I do. And it never mattered to them, whether or not it was damaging me. Because I was disposable, and once they were done with me, off they went on their merry way. They got what they came for, and they felt better.
And now? Now that I'm trying to hold everything in place? You throw in my face that it's what I want? That's bullshit. This was never what I wanted, and you have no right to ever say that.
And the casual knowledge that if it all goes south, you can always come back and I'll be right here, and you'll be fine? That isn't fair either, and you should be ashamed of yourself for thinking it, much less being willing to say it. Because I went through hell, and had to rebuild my entire life without anyone, and yet, obviously I'll just be right here, and you'll have a safe haven, right?
But it's what I want, to be left alone, and abandoned, so you can have what you want.
So I've been on this compare and contrast kick this week...
You might think that a man would choose a woman who would be similar in manner, if not physically to the partner that he'd had for the previous seven years, when they split up. Especially when you consider that the split up was not initiated by him, and when the new woman was a complete opposite in body-type to his previous fiancee. On the surface, my ex-fiance's new princess seemed a lot like me. But then, I didn't know her very well when she moved in to be my new roommate, just before our breakup.
She seemed very nice, and sweet and generous. And she had claimed to be as obsessive, compulsive about being clean and organized as I am. I freely admit that I have that problem, the need to keep my house clean and organized. I can't handle things being constantly destroyed and shoved everywhere and having piles of crap everywhere. It makes me go crazy. And to have a roommate with the same neuroses as myself seemed like a good solution.
It didn't turn out that way. Princess isn't at all clean, unless someone is there to pick up after her. Dishes in the sink, food on the counters. She wouldn't take out the garbage, and she wouldn't pick up anything, as far as I could tell, ever. I spent the entire time she lived in my apartment cleaning up after her, because she certainly refused to do it herself as soon as she understood that I simply couldn't tolerate the mess, and really was compulsive about it, and it would get done. The dishes would wash themselves, because I had to have it clean.
It showed how manipulative she could be, that she would simply continue to make the messes, knowing they would disappear. She simply couldn't be bothered to clean up after herself, and made no effort to do anything around the apartment. Laundry would pile up, and she would get angry when she realized that her child's clothes needed to be washed, because she was too lazy to go and check near her bed for dirty clothes. She never seemed to grasp that it was her responsibility as a parent to check for those things, it was always someone else's responsibility. That was a difference between us.
I'm in the habit of taking responsibility for myself, for the things that I do. I had no problem looking around the house, to pick up after my fiance was an irritant to me, but I did it. Because I didn't like the laundry piling up. I didn't like having to check my child's bedroom when she was small, to have to do her laundry, but I did that too. Because it was part of the responsibility of being a parent, to me.
I am loyal. I am unflinchingly, frighteningly loyal. My friends and my family know this. It turned out, once they moved out of my apartment, that loyalty is something that Princess wears or doesn't wear, like socks. Danny was my best friend, and she knew that, when she chose to pursue him, that while we had split up and were no longer in a "relationship", she knew that our friendship wasn't simply going to drift into the ether, and end. It was explained to her, in no uncertain terms, that he was a major part of my life, and just because he was going to be slipping his dick into her, didn't mean I was willing to lose my best friend.
Nobody prepared me for exactly what level of backstabbing, dishonesty Princess was capable of pulling. Because I am blunt, and honest, and I told her exactly how I felt, when she "asked" me if she could pursue him. Because I never dreamed that she would do the sorts of things she would then do over the course of the next year, and try to tear apart a thirteen year friendship.
In all the time we were together, when times got tough, and the money ran out, I put every single cent I had into our "mutual" money pot, to try and improve the state of our lives. Because it never occurred to me to be selfish enough to say "this is my money". I just dumped it all in. Being selfish isn't exactly in my personal makeup.
It would never have occurred to me to do anything else but take care of him, or anyone else I loved and cared about, when the chips were down, and they needed something. Not because I was keeping a running tally of what they might be able to do for me later, or what I could gain from it. And I have always, and will always want the best for my friends.
I'm not pampered. I'm not a "princess" In fact, when they moved out, the one little purple pillow I had that hung from my bedroom door originally that said "princess" on it? She took it with her, even though it belonged to me. Evidently conveniently forgetting that it wasn't actually hers. Perhaps in her mind, if it was something she liked, or was in her room for (x) amount of time, it then became hers, I don't know. And it wasn't worth arguing about.
But I know that I cooked for him, for years. And I cleaned up after him, and I took care of him. I was there when he was sick, and I was the one he came to anytime something was wrong. I was his best friend. And he was mine. I did his laundry, and I packed his suitcases when he had to go out of town. We had shared views and things we did together, because we had things in common. I stimulated his mind, and we were partners, more than just in bed. He called me, every morning when he woke up, and every night before he went to sleep when he traveled. And he couldn't wait to get back home. And honestly? I missed the hell out of him when he was gone, because he was my Danny.
And today would have been our eight year anniversary. And two weeks after our breakup, he threw it all away, to climb into bed with his new Princess, someone who is nothing like me, in any way. Except for what she seemed to be on the surface. Yeah, she has a great body. I'll admit that. I'm not much to look at. But in all the ways that it counted, in all the ways it mattered for a helpmate, and a friend, and a life partner? I'll never understand, because she's nothing like me.
She seemed very nice, and sweet and generous. And she had claimed to be as obsessive, compulsive about being clean and organized as I am. I freely admit that I have that problem, the need to keep my house clean and organized. I can't handle things being constantly destroyed and shoved everywhere and having piles of crap everywhere. It makes me go crazy. And to have a roommate with the same neuroses as myself seemed like a good solution.
It didn't turn out that way. Princess isn't at all clean, unless someone is there to pick up after her. Dishes in the sink, food on the counters. She wouldn't take out the garbage, and she wouldn't pick up anything, as far as I could tell, ever. I spent the entire time she lived in my apartment cleaning up after her, because she certainly refused to do it herself as soon as she understood that I simply couldn't tolerate the mess, and really was compulsive about it, and it would get done. The dishes would wash themselves, because I had to have it clean.
It showed how manipulative she could be, that she would simply continue to make the messes, knowing they would disappear. She simply couldn't be bothered to clean up after herself, and made no effort to do anything around the apartment. Laundry would pile up, and she would get angry when she realized that her child's clothes needed to be washed, because she was too lazy to go and check near her bed for dirty clothes. She never seemed to grasp that it was her responsibility as a parent to check for those things, it was always someone else's responsibility. That was a difference between us.
I'm in the habit of taking responsibility for myself, for the things that I do. I had no problem looking around the house, to pick up after my fiance was an irritant to me, but I did it. Because I didn't like the laundry piling up. I didn't like having to check my child's bedroom when she was small, to have to do her laundry, but I did that too. Because it was part of the responsibility of being a parent, to me.
I am loyal. I am unflinchingly, frighteningly loyal. My friends and my family know this. It turned out, once they moved out of my apartment, that loyalty is something that Princess wears or doesn't wear, like socks. Danny was my best friend, and she knew that, when she chose to pursue him, that while we had split up and were no longer in a "relationship", she knew that our friendship wasn't simply going to drift into the ether, and end. It was explained to her, in no uncertain terms, that he was a major part of my life, and just because he was going to be slipping his dick into her, didn't mean I was willing to lose my best friend.
Nobody prepared me for exactly what level of backstabbing, dishonesty Princess was capable of pulling. Because I am blunt, and honest, and I told her exactly how I felt, when she "asked" me if she could pursue him. Because I never dreamed that she would do the sorts of things she would then do over the course of the next year, and try to tear apart a thirteen year friendship.
In all the time we were together, when times got tough, and the money ran out, I put every single cent I had into our "mutual" money pot, to try and improve the state of our lives. Because it never occurred to me to be selfish enough to say "this is my money". I just dumped it all in. Being selfish isn't exactly in my personal makeup.
It would never have occurred to me to do anything else but take care of him, or anyone else I loved and cared about, when the chips were down, and they needed something. Not because I was keeping a running tally of what they might be able to do for me later, or what I could gain from it. And I have always, and will always want the best for my friends.
I'm not pampered. I'm not a "princess" In fact, when they moved out, the one little purple pillow I had that hung from my bedroom door originally that said "princess" on it? She took it with her, even though it belonged to me. Evidently conveniently forgetting that it wasn't actually hers. Perhaps in her mind, if it was something she liked, or was in her room for (x) amount of time, it then became hers, I don't know. And it wasn't worth arguing about.
But I know that I cooked for him, for years. And I cleaned up after him, and I took care of him. I was there when he was sick, and I was the one he came to anytime something was wrong. I was his best friend. And he was mine. I did his laundry, and I packed his suitcases when he had to go out of town. We had shared views and things we did together, because we had things in common. I stimulated his mind, and we were partners, more than just in bed. He called me, every morning when he woke up, and every night before he went to sleep when he traveled. And he couldn't wait to get back home. And honestly? I missed the hell out of him when he was gone, because he was my Danny.
And today would have been our eight year anniversary. And two weeks after our breakup, he threw it all away, to climb into bed with his new Princess, someone who is nothing like me, in any way. Except for what she seemed to be on the surface. Yeah, she has a great body. I'll admit that. I'm not much to look at. But in all the ways that it counted, in all the ways it mattered for a helpmate, and a friend, and a life partner? I'll never understand, because she's nothing like me.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Damn the man can *cook*!
I can't even remember the last time a man cooked me dinner, so thank you Stewie :) And seriously, the man can cook. It was so sweet of him, too, he even helped to clean up the kitchen, because he told me that it would be rude to leave it all messy.
But we had a good time, and I'm glad that he came to play with me. It's such a nice way to spend the afternoon and night, with someone who can stimulate my mind and everything else, because he's such good company. I have to give him that, there's never any shortage of stuff to do with Stewie, we can fill ten hours without any effort at all. And all without ever turning on a television.
God, how I love that. The ability to spend that much time with someone, and know that my company is valued, and enjoyed. I know I certainly enjoy his.
I just took him home at around eleven something o'clock, which was cool, because now I need to go and do the homework that I've been putting off since two this afternoon, and pretend that I enjoy homework more than fucking off all day today. But alas, it must be done.
Anyhow...Thanks Stew.
'Nite.
But we had a good time, and I'm glad that he came to play with me. It's such a nice way to spend the afternoon and night, with someone who can stimulate my mind and everything else, because he's such good company. I have to give him that, there's never any shortage of stuff to do with Stewie, we can fill ten hours without any effort at all. And all without ever turning on a television.
God, how I love that. The ability to spend that much time with someone, and know that my company is valued, and enjoyed. I know I certainly enjoy his.
I just took him home at around eleven something o'clock, which was cool, because now I need to go and do the homework that I've been putting off since two this afternoon, and pretend that I enjoy homework more than fucking off all day today. But alas, it must be done.
Anyhow...Thanks Stew.
'Nite.
wet, naked, soapy
I do so love it when Stewie says that :P
/addendum
And damn, Stewie's awfully hot when he's all wet!!
/addendum
And damn, Stewie's awfully hot when he's all wet!!
everytime i try to go
i fail
please forgive me
this weakness causes me pain
and it's draining me
and i can't sleep
and i can't think
and no matter what i do
i just can't keep going
please
please forgive me
everytime i try to go
i fail
please forgive me
this weakness causes me pain
and it's draining me
i can still see all those things
the way the light caught your eyes
the way it felt to be in your arms
the memories are crushing me
i'm spinning
i'm drowning
everytime i try to go
i fail
please forgive me
this weakness causes me pain
and it's draining me
and it's over
when will it finally be over
i fail
please forgive me
this weakness causes me pain
and it's draining me
and i can't sleep
and i can't think
and no matter what i do
i just can't keep going
please
please forgive me
everytime i try to go
i fail
please forgive me
this weakness causes me pain
and it's draining me
i can still see all those things
the way the light caught your eyes
the way it felt to be in your arms
the memories are crushing me
i'm spinning
i'm drowning
everytime i try to go
i fail
please forgive me
this weakness causes me pain
and it's draining me
and it's over
when will it finally be over
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
ouch :(
And it's not a minor ouch, it's kind of a major ouch :(
I think I may have overdone it, a little. Well. A lot. Sort of. Maybe. Yeah, okay, so yes, I know I did. I have a new trampoline, and that's all well and good. Yay? Except that in amongst my bouncy-bouncy-bouncy, I then decided after a couple of hours of that, that going swimming was a fabulous idea.
And it isn't even so much that I went and swam laps or anything. It's more that I walked out to the far pool, climbed in and out of the pool and the spa a couple of times, and then walked back to the apartment. And did laundry. All day. And cleaned the kitchen. And moved some boxes. And stuff.
All of which, this morning, has ended up with me sitting here, wanting to cry, because now I hurt, and it's not a little kind of hurt, it's a massive I think I probably should just go crawl into a bottle of pain medication sort of hurt, because I was an idiot, and yes, I did it to myself, but I hurt like hell, and this blows, kind of thing.
I hate being an idiot that way. Part of it was that I wanted to clean off the computer desk, and take pictures of the Mac/PC shot, so I could upload it. Which would have been easy/peasy, except my digital battery was dead...and I couldn't find the charger. So I had to find the box. So I had to move the boxes. You see the progression here, right? I did end up finding the box, the charger, and take the photos. And swim. And bouncy-bouncy-bouncy. And do dishes. And laundry. And I felt more or less okay, last night...
And then I woke up this morning, feeling sort of like my muscles are made of concrete. And just to add insult to injury? I'll probably go use the trampoline in spite of myself, because I don't think it's completely in my best interest to skip a day of exercise, just because I'm sore. I don't want my legs to expect a day off like that. I want to build up the muscles there, because, damnit, I *want* to have a nice bubble shaped ass, with good tone to it, instead of just a bubble shaped ass. Which is going to involve exercise, whether I like it or not.
Bouncy-bouncy-bouncy. But it's not altogether easy, when everything hurts.
My ankle still isn't healed right, either, which means I'm going to need to get some kind of brace for it, because I'm tediously sick of having to wrap it with an ace wrap, which takes a lot longer than I like, and one of the permanent type braces would simply be faster and more effective at this point, than the daily wrapping of a bandage.
Damn, and I need to go grocery shopping soon to. Craptastic. I really need to start writing that down on a list. I think I'm out of milk again. Or was it bagels? Sigh. And I think I wanted bananas. Or something. I'm sure I'll remember at some point. Maybe I'll wander over and get it later tonight. Food is good, right? OH! That's right, I wanted to get the stuff for cabbage rolls! Yay! Sissa and Grandma Kitty gave me the recipe, and I wanted to try and make them in the crockpot, and I need ingredients! Damn, I knew I was forgetting *something*.
Oh. Yeah. And I might as well post the update on here too, as it's out in the open elsewhere as well now. Yes, I'm playing World of Warcraft, and have been for quite some time. About three months now. Since the beginning of July? Thereabouts. Make no mistake, I'm not even vaguely trying to hide who I am, or anything else about the fact that I'm there. To the point of being Cryssallia and/or Cryssannia as a player. My other 'toon is Jessamyn, but it's not a big enough level to make it onto the Armory listings. My pet, as I'm a hunter everywhere I play? Is either a cat named Esbat or Ezzie, or a cat named Rory, depending on which one I have stabled at any given time. I play. Sissa and Shawn play. Danny plays, and will be transferring in to the realm I'm on. Chelle plays. Ryan is re-activating his account next month, to transfer over to where I'm playing. I have a fair amount of friends and I'm enjoying the hell out of the game, now that I've discovered that it wasn't that the game itself sucks, it's that my stupid brain tumor made it impossible for me to play it. That was why I hated it so much. I no longer hate it, now that my visual processing centers *work*. In much the same way I always enjoyed MMUD, I like WoW.
Okay, having gotten that out of the way, I have essays to outline, discussion boards to update on, forums to peruse, and people to harass. And a counselor to call.
More updates soon!
I think I may have overdone it, a little. Well. A lot. Sort of. Maybe. Yeah, okay, so yes, I know I did. I have a new trampoline, and that's all well and good. Yay? Except that in amongst my bouncy-bouncy-bouncy, I then decided after a couple of hours of that, that going swimming was a fabulous idea.
And it isn't even so much that I went and swam laps or anything. It's more that I walked out to the far pool, climbed in and out of the pool and the spa a couple of times, and then walked back to the apartment. And did laundry. All day. And cleaned the kitchen. And moved some boxes. And stuff.
All of which, this morning, has ended up with me sitting here, wanting to cry, because now I hurt, and it's not a little kind of hurt, it's a massive I think I probably should just go crawl into a bottle of pain medication sort of hurt, because I was an idiot, and yes, I did it to myself, but I hurt like hell, and this blows, kind of thing.
I hate being an idiot that way. Part of it was that I wanted to clean off the computer desk, and take pictures of the Mac/PC shot, so I could upload it. Which would have been easy/peasy, except my digital battery was dead...and I couldn't find the charger. So I had to find the box. So I had to move the boxes. You see the progression here, right? I did end up finding the box, the charger, and take the photos. And swim. And bouncy-bouncy-bouncy. And do dishes. And laundry. And I felt more or less okay, last night...
And then I woke up this morning, feeling sort of like my muscles are made of concrete. And just to add insult to injury? I'll probably go use the trampoline in spite of myself, because I don't think it's completely in my best interest to skip a day of exercise, just because I'm sore. I don't want my legs to expect a day off like that. I want to build up the muscles there, because, damnit, I *want* to have a nice bubble shaped ass, with good tone to it, instead of just a bubble shaped ass. Which is going to involve exercise, whether I like it or not.
Bouncy-bouncy-bouncy. But it's not altogether easy, when everything hurts.
My ankle still isn't healed right, either, which means I'm going to need to get some kind of brace for it, because I'm tediously sick of having to wrap it with an ace wrap, which takes a lot longer than I like, and one of the permanent type braces would simply be faster and more effective at this point, than the daily wrapping of a bandage.
Damn, and I need to go grocery shopping soon to. Craptastic. I really need to start writing that down on a list. I think I'm out of milk again. Or was it bagels? Sigh. And I think I wanted bananas. Or something. I'm sure I'll remember at some point. Maybe I'll wander over and get it later tonight. Food is good, right? OH! That's right, I wanted to get the stuff for cabbage rolls! Yay! Sissa and Grandma Kitty gave me the recipe, and I wanted to try and make them in the crockpot, and I need ingredients! Damn, I knew I was forgetting *something*.
Oh. Yeah. And I might as well post the update on here too, as it's out in the open elsewhere as well now. Yes, I'm playing World of Warcraft, and have been for quite some time. About three months now. Since the beginning of July? Thereabouts. Make no mistake, I'm not even vaguely trying to hide who I am, or anything else about the fact that I'm there. To the point of being Cryssallia and/or Cryssannia as a player. My other 'toon is Jessamyn, but it's not a big enough level to make it onto the Armory listings. My pet, as I'm a hunter everywhere I play? Is either a cat named Esbat or Ezzie, or a cat named Rory, depending on which one I have stabled at any given time. I play. Sissa and Shawn play. Danny plays, and will be transferring in to the realm I'm on. Chelle plays. Ryan is re-activating his account next month, to transfer over to where I'm playing. I have a fair amount of friends and I'm enjoying the hell out of the game, now that I've discovered that it wasn't that the game itself sucks, it's that my stupid brain tumor made it impossible for me to play it. That was why I hated it so much. I no longer hate it, now that my visual processing centers *work*. In much the same way I always enjoyed MMUD, I like WoW.
Okay, having gotten that out of the way, I have essays to outline, discussion boards to update on, forums to peruse, and people to harass. And a counselor to call.
More updates soon!
Monday, September 15, 2008
Tales from the vastly amused
Yup. That's me, vastly amused. And I am, truly. I spend a fair amount of my personal time fairly amused at life, and the little things that everyone else around me does. Quite a few people spend a good deal of their time wondering what I'm up to, and whether or not I'm getting into trouble. The short answer? Yep, I am. And I'm having a lot of fun with that. Because, well, honestly? I *can*. There's no reason for me not to amuse myself these days.
The rest of the time? I just wish all of the idiots of the world would figure out that they're wasting their time stalking me, and that it's not worthwhile for them to be so damned obsessed with me. Obviously, I'm just that wonderful (ha ha ha), that they can't get over me? Somehow, I doubt that. More likely, they're worried about what I might do that will wreck whatever little soapbubble fantasy they might have built a pile of lies on, and my special brand of truth has a bad habit of popping such soapbubbles.
See, the upside to spending a good deal of my time living in reality, and not constructing elaborate lies to play in? Means that I don't have to wonder if and when my house of cards will fall down. I don't have to wonder whether or not I'll be unhappy tomorrow, or whether or not the fantasy life that's being lived will disintegrate by the end of the week.
And I like that. And it amuses me, watching all the other little hamsters, on their repetitive wheels. Because while my life is pretty calm and predictable for the most part? I like it that way, and I'm pretty happy these days. I've got things going well for me.
I've got my needs being met, and I have things that make me happy and content, and I'm not bored. I didn't end up settling, and I'm not just marking time, hoping that everything will work itself out.
Wow, I ended up rambling, I'm not even sure where I started with this.
Oh, on another note, I have an assignment for school on a "contrast and compare" essay, which I'm going to get a royal kick out of writing. I really enjoyed the last one that was assigned, on a major life-changing event, and I'm enjoying the course itself. School is challenging and stimulating, and I'm looking forward to writing this new assignment as well.
Okay, that's it for right now.
The rest of the time? I just wish all of the idiots of the world would figure out that they're wasting their time stalking me, and that it's not worthwhile for them to be so damned obsessed with me. Obviously, I'm just that wonderful (ha ha ha), that they can't get over me? Somehow, I doubt that. More likely, they're worried about what I might do that will wreck whatever little soapbubble fantasy they might have built a pile of lies on, and my special brand of truth has a bad habit of popping such soapbubbles.
See, the upside to spending a good deal of my time living in reality, and not constructing elaborate lies to play in? Means that I don't have to wonder if and when my house of cards will fall down. I don't have to wonder whether or not I'll be unhappy tomorrow, or whether or not the fantasy life that's being lived will disintegrate by the end of the week.
And I like that. And it amuses me, watching all the other little hamsters, on their repetitive wheels. Because while my life is pretty calm and predictable for the most part? I like it that way, and I'm pretty happy these days. I've got things going well for me.
I've got my needs being met, and I have things that make me happy and content, and I'm not bored. I didn't end up settling, and I'm not just marking time, hoping that everything will work itself out.
Wow, I ended up rambling, I'm not even sure where I started with this.
Oh, on another note, I have an assignment for school on a "contrast and compare" essay, which I'm going to get a royal kick out of writing. I really enjoyed the last one that was assigned, on a major life-changing event, and I'm enjoying the course itself. School is challenging and stimulating, and I'm looking forward to writing this new assignment as well.
Okay, that's it for right now.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
NSFW - quickies, sex, orgasms!
Okay, so on the topic of quickies, basic screwing in general, and all the fun that can be had therein, I've been pondering lately what's "normal" for duration in sex. I've got a new partner now, and I'd been discussing lately what the average time for a man is, and we were talking about it. I guess I've been lucky for the most part, and I guess my luck is apparently going to continue to hold.
I cannot imagine screwing someone whose idea of sex was going to be, on a regular basis, a 3-7 minute session. And I've been informed that's "average". I scoffed, and was then informed that, no, really! That's not including about 5 minutes worth of foreplay or whatever, but that's about it. Expect it to be about a 15 minute event.
So I went looking, and pulled up my good old friend MetaFilter, and AskMeFi, as always, provided me with what I wanted to know. The Bedroom Mamba Questions-and-Answershas an entire page worth of various people's opinions, including this very pertinent article on coitus that's a little dry but that definitely boils down the facts to 7.9 minutes, and 100-500 thrusts per encounter. Now granted, it's an appalling statistic. I'm dismayed in the extreme!
And now that my flexibility is getting better, and my *ahem*, creativity is increasing, I'm enjoying the hell out of trying new things, since I can get a little more freaky, and I'm loving it. So I'd be all kinds of disappointed if my partner could only manage a 7.9 minute session, and 500 thrusts before he blew his load! WTF?!
And then there was this shiny beauty about a quickie, that just had me laughing my ass off, and I'm totally going to cap it completely, because it was the most classic thing I've seen in days of a description of a quickie, and I'm going to try it out if I can, because honestly? That sounds like it would be *absolutely amazing*:
Different strokes, and then some. Me? I consider a quickie to be when you're both so lust-crazed you can't get the clothes off without tearing and she's wet and you're hard in seconds flat and it's all hands and tongues and gasps and you slide in like butter off a hot knife and she nearly comes on the spot and you both buck and rut like fiends and come like a plane crash after less than a minute.
I cannot imagine screwing someone whose idea of sex was going to be, on a regular basis, a 3-7 minute session. And I've been informed that's "average". I scoffed, and was then informed that, no, really! That's not including about 5 minutes worth of foreplay or whatever, but that's about it. Expect it to be about a 15 minute event.
So I went looking, and pulled up my good old friend MetaFilter, and AskMeFi, as always, provided me with what I wanted to know. The Bedroom Mamba Questions-and-Answershas an entire page worth of various people's opinions, including this very pertinent article on coitus that's a little dry but that definitely boils down the facts to 7.9 minutes, and 100-500 thrusts per encounter. Now granted, it's an appalling statistic. I'm dismayed in the extreme!
And now that my flexibility is getting better, and my *ahem*, creativity is increasing, I'm enjoying the hell out of trying new things, since I can get a little more freaky, and I'm loving it. So I'd be all kinds of disappointed if my partner could only manage a 7.9 minute session, and 500 thrusts before he blew his load! WTF?!
And then there was this shiny beauty about a quickie, that just had me laughing my ass off, and I'm totally going to cap it completely, because it was the most classic thing I've seen in days of a description of a quickie, and I'm going to try it out if I can, because honestly? That sounds like it would be *absolutely amazing*:
Different strokes, and then some. Me? I consider a quickie to be when you're both so lust-crazed you can't get the clothes off without tearing and she's wet and you're hard in seconds flat and it's all hands and tongues and gasps and you slide in like butter off a hot knife and she nearly comes on the spot and you both buck and rut like fiends and come like a plane crash after less than a minute.
Sex in Ancient Rome, woo hoo!
Sex lives of the Ancient Romans
**For elite men, the basic message was that sexual penetration correlated with pleasure and power. Sexual partners might be of either sex. There was plenty of male-with-male sexual activity in the Roman world, but only the very faintest hints that “homosexuality” was seen as an exclusive sexual preference, let alone lifestyle choice. Sexual fidelity to a wife was not prized or even particularly admired. In the search for pleasure, the wives, daughters and sons of other elite men were off-limits (and crossing that boundary might be heavily punished by law). The bodies of slaves and, up to a point, of social inferiors, were there for the taking. Poorer citizens, with a less-ready supply of servile sexual labour, would no doubt use prostitutes instead. But individual relations between Roman men and women were not as unnuanced and mechanical as my stark summary might suggest.
All kinds of relationships of care and tenderness flourished, whether between husband and wife, master and slave, lover and beloved. An expensive gold bracelet, for example, found on the body of a woman at a settlement just outside Pompeii is inscribed with the words, “From the master to his slave girl”. It reminds us that affection can exist even within these structures of exploitation (though how far that affection was reciprocated by the slave girl concerned, we of course do not know). And the walls of Pompeii, both inside and out, carry plenty of vivid testimony to passion, jealousy and heartbreak with which it is hard for us not to identify, even if anachronistically, “Marcellus loves Praestina and she doesn't give a damn”, “Restitutus has cheated on lots of girls”. All the same, the basic structure of Roman sexual relations was a fairly brutal one, and not one that was female friendly. **
Ya know? I'm not sure I would have been cut out to live in ancient Rome, mostly because I would only have enjoyed it if I was part of the rich class. I watched a series a while back that showed an interesting viewpoint, and I remember thinking even then that life if you weren't rich wouldn't have been nearly as interesting. Kind of tedious.
I enjoy reading about and studying the various points of historical Rome, and the things that are gleaned from the time period, the rich history of the religion from back then in particular.
But I enjoy indoor plumbing, and modern convenience too much to want to go back and live during those times :P
My .02 cents.
**For elite men, the basic message was that sexual penetration correlated with pleasure and power. Sexual partners might be of either sex. There was plenty of male-with-male sexual activity in the Roman world, but only the very faintest hints that “homosexuality” was seen as an exclusive sexual preference, let alone lifestyle choice. Sexual fidelity to a wife was not prized or even particularly admired. In the search for pleasure, the wives, daughters and sons of other elite men were off-limits (and crossing that boundary might be heavily punished by law). The bodies of slaves and, up to a point, of social inferiors, were there for the taking. Poorer citizens, with a less-ready supply of servile sexual labour, would no doubt use prostitutes instead. But individual relations between Roman men and women were not as unnuanced and mechanical as my stark summary might suggest.
All kinds of relationships of care and tenderness flourished, whether between husband and wife, master and slave, lover and beloved. An expensive gold bracelet, for example, found on the body of a woman at a settlement just outside Pompeii is inscribed with the words, “From the master to his slave girl”. It reminds us that affection can exist even within these structures of exploitation (though how far that affection was reciprocated by the slave girl concerned, we of course do not know). And the walls of Pompeii, both inside and out, carry plenty of vivid testimony to passion, jealousy and heartbreak with which it is hard for us not to identify, even if anachronistically, “Marcellus loves Praestina and she doesn't give a damn”, “Restitutus has cheated on lots of girls”. All the same, the basic structure of Roman sexual relations was a fairly brutal one, and not one that was female friendly. **
Ya know? I'm not sure I would have been cut out to live in ancient Rome, mostly because I would only have enjoyed it if I was part of the rich class. I watched a series a while back that showed an interesting viewpoint, and I remember thinking even then that life if you weren't rich wouldn't have been nearly as interesting. Kind of tedious.
I enjoy reading about and studying the various points of historical Rome, and the things that are gleaned from the time period, the rich history of the religion from back then in particular.
But I enjoy indoor plumbing, and modern convenience too much to want to go back and live during those times :P
My .02 cents.
Secret word of the week
Today's word is for Trinette and her family, and for everyone else who has lost someone recently or is mourning a loss of something or someone.
"funereal"
It seems as though a lot of us have lost someone recently, over the last few months, and it appears that there are more on the horizon. A lot of our loved ones are getting older, or are in failing health, and it's making me angry and frustrated to know that there's nothing I can do about that *except* mourn, and shake my fists at the gods and know that time will march on in spite of me.
"funereal"
It seems as though a lot of us have lost someone recently, over the last few months, and it appears that there are more on the horizon. A lot of our loved ones are getting older, or are in failing health, and it's making me angry and frustrated to know that there's nothing I can do about that *except* mourn, and shake my fists at the gods and know that time will march on in spite of me.
Saturday, September 13, 2008
The love of a lifetime
I would take you, with all of your faults and strengths, as I offer myself to you with my faults and strengths. I will help you when you need help, and will turn to you when I need help. I will encourage you to achieve all of your goals, grow with you in mind and spirit, and always be open and honest with you. I choose you as the person with whom I would spend my life. I will cherish our friendship and love you today, tomorrow, and forever. I will trust you and honor you. I will laugh with you and cry with you. I will love you faithfully through the best and the worst, through the difficult and the easy. What may come, I will always be there. As I have given you my hands to hold, so I give you my life and my heart to keep. Entreat me not to leave you, or to return from following after you. For where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. And where you die, I will die and there I will be buried. May the Gods do what they will with me and more if anything but death parts you from me.
Those were meant to be wedding vows, once. Mine, as a matter of fact. The love of a lifetime, something that could last a lifetime. Something I rarely talk about, because it's considered out of character for me to a great many people who know me, is the fact that I am not on the marriage bandwagon. I'm not completely opposed to marriage, in fact. It's not that at all.
My opposition from marriage actually is a much quieter problem, one that I don't often speak about. My problem is divorce. And this is strictly *for me*. So I don't want for anyone to think that what I'm saying here is that divorce is wrong for them, or that I judge anyone harshly based on decisions they make for themselves, or that I oppose anyone for something they've done. That isn't the case, and I'd never say that it is.
For me, personally, I know that I'm not built in a way that would allow me to get a divorce, under any circumstances. I know myself well, and that wouldn't be an option for me. I have moral issues with it, among other things. In much the same way that I don't cheat on my partners, and wouldn't even if I could, I don't believe in divorce. What other people do? That doesn't affect me, and I don't care about others. But for me, divorce isn't an option. And that makes taking the plunge, and being willing to be married very...frightening.
Because I know that no matter what? I would stay. And that's scary. And the simple truth is that in order to love someone so much that you'd be willing to stay with that person, knowing they could cheat on you, abuse you, do any number of things...and you would stay? That's very frightening.
And for me, that's part of the hitch about me, and being loyal. Marriage is about loyalty, it's a commitment. You agree to be with that person, no matter what, for the rest of your lives. There are no loopholes, this is who you're going to be with, and you're going to make it work. And inside of me, that's how I feel about it. No loopholes, no convenient excuses. There is no "out".
I wrote the above vows, because for a short time, I could see myself making a lifetime commitment to someone. I could see his flaws, and mine, and I was okay with that. I understood them, and still had respect for his need to be himself. I wasn't trying to change him, and I didn't think I needed to be anyone else but me. And I thought that was enough. It was the first time in my life that I felt the possibility of wanting to be committed to someone, because of how I feel about a lifetime commitment.
Sure, I think about that mythical perfect mate, and that's a neat daydream. But honestly, someone who I can talk to, share a meal with. Someone who shares my interests, and can spend time with me. Someone who doesn't bore me to tears, and who can make me laugh, and make me feel complete? Those things mean a lot to me. Someone who can't keep their hands off of me, and who makes me happy, as I make them happy more often than not. That's a good start. That's what I was looking at, looking for. I guess it's still what I'm looking for, sort of. Someone who could be the love of a lifetime, not someone to settle for...
Those were meant to be wedding vows, once. Mine, as a matter of fact. The love of a lifetime, something that could last a lifetime. Something I rarely talk about, because it's considered out of character for me to a great many people who know me, is the fact that I am not on the marriage bandwagon. I'm not completely opposed to marriage, in fact. It's not that at all.
My opposition from marriage actually is a much quieter problem, one that I don't often speak about. My problem is divorce. And this is strictly *for me*. So I don't want for anyone to think that what I'm saying here is that divorce is wrong for them, or that I judge anyone harshly based on decisions they make for themselves, or that I oppose anyone for something they've done. That isn't the case, and I'd never say that it is.
For me, personally, I know that I'm not built in a way that would allow me to get a divorce, under any circumstances. I know myself well, and that wouldn't be an option for me. I have moral issues with it, among other things. In much the same way that I don't cheat on my partners, and wouldn't even if I could, I don't believe in divorce. What other people do? That doesn't affect me, and I don't care about others. But for me, divorce isn't an option. And that makes taking the plunge, and being willing to be married very...frightening.
Because I know that no matter what? I would stay. And that's scary. And the simple truth is that in order to love someone so much that you'd be willing to stay with that person, knowing they could cheat on you, abuse you, do any number of things...and you would stay? That's very frightening.
And for me, that's part of the hitch about me, and being loyal. Marriage is about loyalty, it's a commitment. You agree to be with that person, no matter what, for the rest of your lives. There are no loopholes, this is who you're going to be with, and you're going to make it work. And inside of me, that's how I feel about it. No loopholes, no convenient excuses. There is no "out".
I wrote the above vows, because for a short time, I could see myself making a lifetime commitment to someone. I could see his flaws, and mine, and I was okay with that. I understood them, and still had respect for his need to be himself. I wasn't trying to change him, and I didn't think I needed to be anyone else but me. And I thought that was enough. It was the first time in my life that I felt the possibility of wanting to be committed to someone, because of how I feel about a lifetime commitment.
Sure, I think about that mythical perfect mate, and that's a neat daydream. But honestly, someone who I can talk to, share a meal with. Someone who shares my interests, and can spend time with me. Someone who doesn't bore me to tears, and who can make me laugh, and make me feel complete? Those things mean a lot to me. Someone who can't keep their hands off of me, and who makes me happy, as I make them happy more often than not. That's a good start. That's what I was looking at, looking for. I guess it's still what I'm looking for, sort of. Someone who could be the love of a lifetime, not someone to settle for...
Friday, September 12, 2008
Well I'm not manic
But I am frustrated, that's for sure. And I've got excess energy to burn off, which I've been trying to do in constructive ways, and that's been working, to a certain extent. The apartment is pretty clean. I've been using the new trampoline, which I really like, a lot. I'm glad Kat got hers, or I wouldn't have realized how awesome that they are. And the decorating on the place is going well, and I'm liking how it's all turning out.
But I'm still working through my frustrations as best I can, and there isn't much I can besides try and be constructive. I'm doing fairly well in my classes, as far as I can tell. I'm really enjoying the writing course, although it's a lot more difficult than I initially believed it was going to be. I'm getting a lot of reading done.
I'll be shipping Carl's books and his things back to him shortly, per his request, which kind of bums me out, but it'll clear out some space in the apartment. But I'll definitely miss the books. I bet he'll be happy to have access to them again though. And I'm still weeding through my closets on an almost weekly basis, it's kind of crazy.
And I'm waiting. At least, that's kind of how it feels. As though there's this empty feeling, an empty waiting. And I can't make it stop, and I can't make it go away, and there doesn't seem to be anything I can do to change the lost feeling. There was no closure, there was no good reason for any of it, and that hurts, and so I still have a hole I can't quite close. It isn't that I didn't move on, because I did. I'm still moving forward and seeing someone new now, and doing all the things I should have done before. But it's still an empty feeling. A loss of a friendships that I hadn't expected to lose, and things that cause pain.
Meh. Nothing to do but move forward, and do what has to be done, right? Responsible as always.
But I'm still working through my frustrations as best I can, and there isn't much I can besides try and be constructive. I'm doing fairly well in my classes, as far as I can tell. I'm really enjoying the writing course, although it's a lot more difficult than I initially believed it was going to be. I'm getting a lot of reading done.
I'll be shipping Carl's books and his things back to him shortly, per his request, which kind of bums me out, but it'll clear out some space in the apartment. But I'll definitely miss the books. I bet he'll be happy to have access to them again though. And I'm still weeding through my closets on an almost weekly basis, it's kind of crazy.
And I'm waiting. At least, that's kind of how it feels. As though there's this empty feeling, an empty waiting. And I can't make it stop, and I can't make it go away, and there doesn't seem to be anything I can do to change the lost feeling. There was no closure, there was no good reason for any of it, and that hurts, and so I still have a hole I can't quite close. It isn't that I didn't move on, because I did. I'm still moving forward and seeing someone new now, and doing all the things I should have done before. But it's still an empty feeling. A loss of a friendships that I hadn't expected to lose, and things that cause pain.
Meh. Nothing to do but move forward, and do what has to be done, right? Responsible as always.
What about that?
We walked along the beach
What a moonlit night
He held my hand in his
He kissed me
He said I wanna spend my life with you... I want you for my wife
Just then I thought
What about the times you lied to me?
What about the times you said no one would want me?
What about all the shit you've done to me?
What about that, what about that?
What about the times you yelled at me?
What about the times I cried, you wouldn't even hold me
What about those things?
What about that, what about that?
I took a pause, then a deep sigh
He looked right into my eyes as he said
I know I didn't say something wrong
I didn't have the courage to say
But then I thought
What about the times you hit my face?
What about the times you kept on when I said "no more please"?
What about those things?
What about that, what about that?
What about the times you shamed me
What about the times you said you didn't fuck her?
She only gave you head
What about that, what about that?
Don't wanna live my life
In misery
Don't tell me you did it cause you love me
I don't believe
I'm sick and tired
Your deceptive games
Wonder where you have been
I can't live life wondering
My heart was pounding
But the time had come
To stop letting my whispering heart control me
And telling my screaming mind what to do
I looked him straight in the eyes and then I said
What about the times you lied to me?
What about the times you said no one would want me?
What about all the shit you've done to me?
What about that, what about that?
What about the times you yelled at me?
What about the times I cried, you wouldn't even hold me
What about those things?
What about that, what about that?
What about the times you hit my face?
What about the times you kept on when I said "no more please"?
What about those things?
What about that, what about that?
What about the times you shamed me
What about the times you said you didn't fuck her?
She only gave you head
What about that, what about that?
Janet Jackson - What about that?
What a moonlit night
He held my hand in his
He kissed me
He said I wanna spend my life with you... I want you for my wife
Just then I thought
What about the times you lied to me?
What about the times you said no one would want me?
What about all the shit you've done to me?
What about that, what about that?
What about the times you yelled at me?
What about the times I cried, you wouldn't even hold me
What about those things?
What about that, what about that?
I took a pause, then a deep sigh
He looked right into my eyes as he said
I know I didn't say something wrong
I didn't have the courage to say
But then I thought
What about the times you hit my face?
What about the times you kept on when I said "no more please"?
What about those things?
What about that, what about that?
What about the times you shamed me
What about the times you said you didn't fuck her?
She only gave you head
What about that, what about that?
Don't wanna live my life
In misery
Don't tell me you did it cause you love me
I don't believe
I'm sick and tired
Your deceptive games
Wonder where you have been
I can't live life wondering
My heart was pounding
But the time had come
To stop letting my whispering heart control me
And telling my screaming mind what to do
I looked him straight in the eyes and then I said
What about the times you lied to me?
What about the times you said no one would want me?
What about all the shit you've done to me?
What about that, what about that?
What about the times you yelled at me?
What about the times I cried, you wouldn't even hold me
What about those things?
What about that, what about that?
What about the times you hit my face?
What about the times you kept on when I said "no more please"?
What about those things?
What about that, what about that?
What about the times you shamed me
What about the times you said you didn't fuck her?
She only gave you head
What about that, what about that?
Janet Jackson - What about that?
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
I was going to blog
But I think I might have changed my mind. Everything I'm willing to say has more or less already been said. And everything else that I want to say? I'm either too stubborn to put down for the world to see, or I'm too afraid to admit even to myself.
I'm tired, and I just want it all to...stop.
I'm tired, and I just want it all to...stop.
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
One more day...
So tomorrow is supposed to be the end of the world, according to MSNBC this afternoon. How very Angels and Demons. Large hadron collider will fire up tomorrow for the very first time. And that's a big fucking deal. Of course it is. And it's kind of scary, and it's really exciting.
Everyone has had theories about how the world was created, since, well, forever. Me among them. Who hasn't? And tomorrow, they're going to try and recreate the big bang theory. And that's cool.
But me? I'd kind of like to spend tonight with someone besides myself, because tomorrow might be the end of the world as we know it. Not that I really believe that it'll be the actual end of the world. But I do think that things will change fast, once they turn that machine on.
Science is a marvelous thing. And theories are going to be tested that never have before. But tonight? Tonight I don't really want to be alone. I'd like to sit and debate, and talk, and...hell, I don't know...
** Addendum ** Thanks Ryan, for coming to my rescue and spending the night with me and lifting my spirits :)
Everyone has had theories about how the world was created, since, well, forever. Me among them. Who hasn't? And tomorrow, they're going to try and recreate the big bang theory. And that's cool.
But me? I'd kind of like to spend tonight with someone besides myself, because tomorrow might be the end of the world as we know it. Not that I really believe that it'll be the actual end of the world. But I do think that things will change fast, once they turn that machine on.
Science is a marvelous thing. And theories are going to be tested that never have before. But tonight? Tonight I don't really want to be alone. I'd like to sit and debate, and talk, and...hell, I don't know...
** Addendum ** Thanks Ryan, for coming to my rescue and spending the night with me and lifting my spirits :)
Sunday, September 7, 2008
Choice, Direction, Nature - Mine
That's it, isn't it. Finally. I'm free. I hadn't realized. I'm free to come and go as I please, and I do. It's my choice, and while Fate might circumvent me in the end, and I might not end up precisely the way I plan, for right now, it's my choice, as it never was before. I can choose my own direction, even if it's the wrong one.
And yes, I love him. I've always loved him. I always will. I won't lie about it, even to myself. There's no point. Even if I'm wrong, even if I make a mistake, I won't lie about it. I love him more than anything. But I won't belong to him.
I won't be anyone's convenience, not ever again. Any belonging, if it ever happens, will be on both sides, or not at all. It will be complete. I've given myself before, to someone who didn't love me. It seemed like it was the sensible thing to do, and it seemed like it was the right choice. I did it because I was afraid, and because I thought that no one would ever want me. I was afraid no one ever would.
I was afraid to be alone. I hate admitting that to myself. I was terrified of being alone. That's just not true anymore. And I owe thanks to Danny and Phillip both, in the end, for having left me completely alone, as afraid as I was. Because now? I'm not afraid at all. I've learned how to be alone, and to like myself. To respect myself. I've learned to respect who I am.
The fact that I can be alone doesn't mean that I have to be, it means that I don't need to be with anyone else anymore. I don't need to be a part of anyone else to be happy anymore. I don't have to change the life that I've finally started for myself anymore, to throw myself into someone else's line of vision, just to "complete" myself.
I come first now. Me, Crystal. I will not settle anymore, for one inch less than everything. Just because I'm in love with him, just because I want him more than I ever wanted anything, does not mean that I will throw everything I have built in the last year away, to chase after him like a lost puppy. I have more self-respect than that, and I value myself more than that now.
I'll do the choosing this time. I'll choose my direction, and follow my own path now. I have the capacity to love, with a whole heart now, and to share a part of my life. But I won't be a convenience, and I won't be a toy. I don't need to be. I'll be a friend, because that's in my nature. Because I know myself now. Because I've had time to heal, and to think, and to evaluate who I am, and who I want to be.
I'm Crystal. Finally. And it took me a damned long time to get here.
And yes, I love him. I've always loved him. I always will. I won't lie about it, even to myself. There's no point. Even if I'm wrong, even if I make a mistake, I won't lie about it. I love him more than anything. But I won't belong to him.
I won't be anyone's convenience, not ever again. Any belonging, if it ever happens, will be on both sides, or not at all. It will be complete. I've given myself before, to someone who didn't love me. It seemed like it was the sensible thing to do, and it seemed like it was the right choice. I did it because I was afraid, and because I thought that no one would ever want me. I was afraid no one ever would.
I was afraid to be alone. I hate admitting that to myself. I was terrified of being alone. That's just not true anymore. And I owe thanks to Danny and Phillip both, in the end, for having left me completely alone, as afraid as I was. Because now? I'm not afraid at all. I've learned how to be alone, and to like myself. To respect myself. I've learned to respect who I am.
The fact that I can be alone doesn't mean that I have to be, it means that I don't need to be with anyone else anymore. I don't need to be a part of anyone else to be happy anymore. I don't have to change the life that I've finally started for myself anymore, to throw myself into someone else's line of vision, just to "complete" myself.
I come first now. Me, Crystal. I will not settle anymore, for one inch less than everything. Just because I'm in love with him, just because I want him more than I ever wanted anything, does not mean that I will throw everything I have built in the last year away, to chase after him like a lost puppy. I have more self-respect than that, and I value myself more than that now.
I'll do the choosing this time. I'll choose my direction, and follow my own path now. I have the capacity to love, with a whole heart now, and to share a part of my life. But I won't be a convenience, and I won't be a toy. I don't need to be. I'll be a friend, because that's in my nature. Because I know myself now. Because I've had time to heal, and to think, and to evaluate who I am, and who I want to be.
I'm Crystal. Finally. And it took me a damned long time to get here.
Secret word of the week
The secret word of the week is:
"reminiscent"
And now I'm gonna go crash out, it's been a long day, a long week, and I'm tired and just in general not happy.
"reminiscent"
And now I'm gonna go crash out, it's been a long day, a long week, and I'm tired and just in general not happy.
Saturday, September 6, 2008
Thank you Brody, it's cocktastic!
Okay, so anyone who reads Brody's blog from here will see that I did indeed sit and discuss lesbians this morning with her, and the perfect male penis specimen. Yeah, so our conversations over tea and breakfast tend to run the gamut, and this morning due to a slight case of, well, horny, we ended up discussing sex and the various aspects of perfectly aesthetically pleasing cocks. The truth is, I've only come across a couple that I personally considered beautiful. And only one that fascinated me to the point that I just could not keep my hands (mouth, anything else) off of it.
I suppose I could write poetry for it. And I might. That would be some funny shit. Poetry about Phil's Perfect Penis. That'd be classic. Most men think that their equipment is the best thing ever, but honestly, it's just not true. Sure, yay, look there's a cock there. But they're not all that interesting for the most part. What was it Holly told me once? "You can make me cum, that doesn't make you God?" And I thought it was hilarious. I guess it's a line from a movie, but I hadn't seen it, so I was amused.
But for Phil? His was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, and I could have sat there and admired the sheer male perfection of it for hours. I understand why artists choose to sculpt such things, because a cock can be silky and sweet, and hard and soft and such a myriad of things, all at the same time. It's an unending, fascinating toy, and a wonderfully complex tool, all at once.
Add in a man who knows exactly how to utilize what he has? And yes, stars shine, and music plays, and whatever it is, ladies, that all those ridiculous authors are writing about? There it is.
Don't get me wrong, any man who takes some time to make his partner happy is a good man. But something about a man with that perfectly aesthetically soft silky penis fascinates me. Because I will sit and worship that thing all day long. As I, unfortunately, proved time and again. It was like a sickness, how much I wanted it. And if given the chance, I'd probably do it again, because I couldn't help it. The idea of it makes my head spin, and works me up.
Damn Brody for even getting me started on thinking about it.
So that's my thought for the day. Cocks in all their glory, and Phillip's in particular. Long may it...stay hard? I hope someone appreciates it. I certainly did.
I suppose I could write poetry for it. And I might. That would be some funny shit. Poetry about Phil's Perfect Penis. That'd be classic. Most men think that their equipment is the best thing ever, but honestly, it's just not true. Sure, yay, look there's a cock there. But they're not all that interesting for the most part. What was it Holly told me once? "You can make me cum, that doesn't make you God?" And I thought it was hilarious. I guess it's a line from a movie, but I hadn't seen it, so I was amused.
But for Phil? His was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, and I could have sat there and admired the sheer male perfection of it for hours. I understand why artists choose to sculpt such things, because a cock can be silky and sweet, and hard and soft and such a myriad of things, all at the same time. It's an unending, fascinating toy, and a wonderfully complex tool, all at once.
Add in a man who knows exactly how to utilize what he has? And yes, stars shine, and music plays, and whatever it is, ladies, that all those ridiculous authors are writing about? There it is.
Don't get me wrong, any man who takes some time to make his partner happy is a good man. But something about a man with that perfectly aesthetically soft silky penis fascinates me. Because I will sit and worship that thing all day long. As I, unfortunately, proved time and again. It was like a sickness, how much I wanted it. And if given the chance, I'd probably do it again, because I couldn't help it. The idea of it makes my head spin, and works me up.
Damn Brody for even getting me started on thinking about it.
So that's my thought for the day. Cocks in all their glory, and Phillip's in particular. Long may it...stay hard? I hope someone appreciates it. I certainly did.
Friday, September 5, 2008
Bad news seems to come in threes :(
I'm exhausted and I'm worried, and I don't feel very good. My head is splitting, and while I'd like nothing more than to crawl under a rock, my homework isn't going to do itself, and if I don't do it, I'll fail. And that's not something I'm willing to do. All of that notwithstanding, on the one-to-ten craptastic meter? I'm not even registering.
Shawn got laid off yesterday, and my entire focus is on "oh crap, what is going to happen for Sissa???", and knowing that in reality there's almost nothing I *can* do, and that fucking blows. I can't do much more than sit here and worry, and hope everything will be alright. And while he's looking at jobs nationwide? That means in reality that my Sissa is going to be moving away, probably far away. And that makes me sad, because I will miss her badly. While I don't make it down there as often as I should, I like knowing that she's right there. Although I'll also support her moving to wherever the hell she needs to, for them to be okay again, so Shawn can work. I'm just worried about them. None of us saw this coming, and I guess maybe I'm still in shock somewhat.
Yes, I'm definitely in shock still. Hell, I lost my speech completely when she told me yesterday. It caught me that off guard.
And I'm worried about Brody, and what will happen when she goes to Stanford, because I just want them to figure out what's broken, and FIX IT already, dammit. And I know that's not fair, but, well, I'm tired of trying to be fair all the time.
Sometimes I just want to stomp my feet and punch things and point out that it isn't okay that everything goes to shit. See? I knew I shouldn't have taken my stuff out of boxes, and unpacked the spare room. I told everyone that, and no one listened! And now it appears lives are going to hell in handbaskets, and I just want it to stop!
I want to hold close everyone I love, and hug them tight, and know that they are safe, and cared for, and will be happy and secure. Is that so much to ask? Is it really? It doesn't seem as though that's an unreasonable request.
Shawn got laid off yesterday, and my entire focus is on "oh crap, what is going to happen for Sissa???", and knowing that in reality there's almost nothing I *can* do, and that fucking blows. I can't do much more than sit here and worry, and hope everything will be alright. And while he's looking at jobs nationwide? That means in reality that my Sissa is going to be moving away, probably far away. And that makes me sad, because I will miss her badly. While I don't make it down there as often as I should, I like knowing that she's right there. Although I'll also support her moving to wherever the hell she needs to, for them to be okay again, so Shawn can work. I'm just worried about them. None of us saw this coming, and I guess maybe I'm still in shock somewhat.
Yes, I'm definitely in shock still. Hell, I lost my speech completely when she told me yesterday. It caught me that off guard.
And I'm worried about Brody, and what will happen when she goes to Stanford, because I just want them to figure out what's broken, and FIX IT already, dammit. And I know that's not fair, but, well, I'm tired of trying to be fair all the time.
Sometimes I just want to stomp my feet and punch things and point out that it isn't okay that everything goes to shit. See? I knew I shouldn't have taken my stuff out of boxes, and unpacked the spare room. I told everyone that, and no one listened! And now it appears lives are going to hell in handbaskets, and I just want it to stop!
I want to hold close everyone I love, and hug them tight, and know that they are safe, and cared for, and will be happy and secure. Is that so much to ask? Is it really? It doesn't seem as though that's an unreasonable request.
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Good Enough
I'm feeling out of sorts. Someone told me today that this song reminds them of me, and that every time she hears it, she thinks of me, and that it should be the theme of my life, because no matter what I do, it seems as though I wouldn't be able to say no. And that might be true, I simply don't know.
The truth is that everyone who really knows me, knows that however angry I might be at someone, if I love them, I'll always be there for them. I'd take a hell of a lot from anyone, to help them, because I'm loyal to my friends, and they know that. And that gets me hurt, a lot of the time. And I think that's what she was thinking about. And it's true, because it hurts me, but I'd still let someone back in, if I knew I was needed, because that's who I am. And it took some soul searching on my part to realize that's just a part of who I am.
I'd have to give up a part of myself, and become someone that I'm not, to walk away from a friend in need. And maybe that makes me a fool. Maybe it makes me weak, and asking for trouble. But the same parts of me that make me that foolish person, are the same parts that make me the strong, giving woman that everyone values at the end of the day. Because those same traits are what they need to lean on, to be held by, and that they trust. Because I don't let them fall. Because I calm their fears, and I'm the one who is always there with a hand, with sympathy, to quiet the voices when they get too loud, and to help them through when it's too difficult.
I'm the person who keeps their secrets, and keeps the dark at bay. Who will always have a candle in the window, and has coffee all night long if that is what's needed. And I'm not sure if that's a bad thing necessarily.
So fine, I wouldn't be able to say no if he asks to come in. I can't push away when it hurts me sometimes. And that makes me a fool, because I'll never be good enough. But at the same time, I'm still the friend I always was, for everyone else, and I'm still the friend I was for him. Whether or not it matters anymore is irrelevant now. *I* am still that person, because that is me. I can't and won't change that, more fool me.
I don't want to play stupid foolish games. I don't want to sit and argue about anything. It isn't a contest of wills to be won, and it isn't a competition. There's not going to be a winner, and everybody loses. Everybody already did lose, so why keep fighting about it?
I'm so tired of being alone, and pretending that I don't care about anything. Because I do.
Under your spell again.
I can't say no to you.
Crave my heart and it's bleeding in your hand.
I can't say no to you.
Shouldn't let you torture me so sweetly.
Now I can't let go of this dream.
I can't breathe but I feel...
Good enough,
I feel good enough for you.
Drink up sweet decadence.
I can't say no to you,
And I've completely lost myself, and I don't mind.
I can't say no to you.
Shouldn't let you conquer me completely.
Now I can't let go of this dream.
Can't believe that I feel...
Good enough,
I feel good enough.
It's been such a long time coming, but I feel good.
And I'm still waiting for the rain to fall.
Pour real life down on me.
'Cause I can't hold on to anything this good enough.
Am I good enough for you to love me too?
So take care what you ask of me,
'Cause I can't say no.
*Good Enough - Evanescence-
The truth is that everyone who really knows me, knows that however angry I might be at someone, if I love them, I'll always be there for them. I'd take a hell of a lot from anyone, to help them, because I'm loyal to my friends, and they know that. And that gets me hurt, a lot of the time. And I think that's what she was thinking about. And it's true, because it hurts me, but I'd still let someone back in, if I knew I was needed, because that's who I am. And it took some soul searching on my part to realize that's just a part of who I am.
I'd have to give up a part of myself, and become someone that I'm not, to walk away from a friend in need. And maybe that makes me a fool. Maybe it makes me weak, and asking for trouble. But the same parts of me that make me that foolish person, are the same parts that make me the strong, giving woman that everyone values at the end of the day. Because those same traits are what they need to lean on, to be held by, and that they trust. Because I don't let them fall. Because I calm their fears, and I'm the one who is always there with a hand, with sympathy, to quiet the voices when they get too loud, and to help them through when it's too difficult.
I'm the person who keeps their secrets, and keeps the dark at bay. Who will always have a candle in the window, and has coffee all night long if that is what's needed. And I'm not sure if that's a bad thing necessarily.
So fine, I wouldn't be able to say no if he asks to come in. I can't push away when it hurts me sometimes. And that makes me a fool, because I'll never be good enough. But at the same time, I'm still the friend I always was, for everyone else, and I'm still the friend I was for him. Whether or not it matters anymore is irrelevant now. *I* am still that person, because that is me. I can't and won't change that, more fool me.
I don't want to play stupid foolish games. I don't want to sit and argue about anything. It isn't a contest of wills to be won, and it isn't a competition. There's not going to be a winner, and everybody loses. Everybody already did lose, so why keep fighting about it?
I'm so tired of being alone, and pretending that I don't care about anything. Because I do.
Under your spell again.
I can't say no to you.
Crave my heart and it's bleeding in your hand.
I can't say no to you.
Shouldn't let you torture me so sweetly.
Now I can't let go of this dream.
I can't breathe but I feel...
Good enough,
I feel good enough for you.
Drink up sweet decadence.
I can't say no to you,
And I've completely lost myself, and I don't mind.
I can't say no to you.
Shouldn't let you conquer me completely.
Now I can't let go of this dream.
Can't believe that I feel...
Good enough,
I feel good enough.
It's been such a long time coming, but I feel good.
And I'm still waiting for the rain to fall.
Pour real life down on me.
'Cause I can't hold on to anything this good enough.
Am I good enough for you to love me too?
So take care what you ask of me,
'Cause I can't say no.
*Good Enough - Evanescence-
Oops
Maybe I was wrong, and things aren't sunshine and roses for Phil. Public apology if that's the case, I wasn't trying to piss anyone off, I actually was happy for him. I don't have an ax to grind anymore. But as I said a while back, I still keep an eye on his blog, and he seems to be running fast and furious at the moment, and is frustrated at someone's arrogance. If that was me for something, then I guess I apologize for whatever I did this time. Although to be fair, I don't figure he gives a fuck about me anymore, so chances are it's not me. But in the interest of not picking up anymore negative karma points for that entire thing?
There ya go.
While I'm still pretty stressed about some stuff lately, I don't think I'd want to have to go through life with a fuck the world attitude. While my circle of friends has gotten a lot smaller, and I'm a lot more cautious about who I trust anymore in the last few months? If I'm hurting, I'm still going to go and simply ask for help, and someone to talk to.
I won't work myself into a frustrated manic fit over anything, not anymore. I know who can help me, and I'll damned well ask at this point, to keep my mental stability in check. Life is easier that way. I'm not so stubborn as to fall down into a pit of despair, and end up twisted first. I've learned better.
Where was I going with that? Fuck, I don't even remember. I have to go and find my shoes, I was supposed to be somewhere like a half hour ago.
There ya go.
While I'm still pretty stressed about some stuff lately, I don't think I'd want to have to go through life with a fuck the world attitude. While my circle of friends has gotten a lot smaller, and I'm a lot more cautious about who I trust anymore in the last few months? If I'm hurting, I'm still going to go and simply ask for help, and someone to talk to.
I won't work myself into a frustrated manic fit over anything, not anymore. I know who can help me, and I'll damned well ask at this point, to keep my mental stability in check. Life is easier that way. I'm not so stubborn as to fall down into a pit of despair, and end up twisted first. I've learned better.
Where was I going with that? Fuck, I don't even remember. I have to go and find my shoes, I was supposed to be somewhere like a half hour ago.
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
Politics, Republicans, Democrats
The Worst Vice President Nominee In U.S. History, By Robert J. Elisberg
The Worst Vice-Presidential Nominee in U.S. History
By Robert J. Elisberg
There was a TV ad for deodorant that said, "Never let them see you sweat." The John McCain campaign has just showed the world that it is drenched.
Selecting Sarah Palin as its choice for a vice presidential candidate is perhaps the worst such choice in American History. To be fair, maybe there are worse choices, but I don't know how bad William O. Butler was when he ran with Lewis Cass against Zachary Taylor.
But it's far worse than Dan Quayle, who was a sitting senator. Worse even
than Geraldine Ferraro, who at least served in Congress for three-terms.
And far worse than William Miller, a choice so obscure when selected by Barry
Goldwater that he (honestly) later did an American Express commercial asking, "Do you know me?" And that ad was after the election. But even Miller had been a Congressman for 12 years. And been a prosecutor during the Nuremberg War trials against Nazis. Sarah Palin lists her credits as a hockey mom.
There was a point during the Republican primaries when I was trying to figure out who I hoped got the presidential nomination. Someone so weak he'd be easy for the Democrats to beat, or someone more challenging who at least wouldn't be a disaster for America. I decided on the latter because America has to resolve its serious problems and can't afford risking some glitch where another George Bush got elected. And so I felt that John McCain, for all his weaknesses, was the lesser of all evils and was glad he got the nomination. Throw that out the window.
McCain-Palin is an unthinkable disaster.
I completely understand the reasoning behind the decision for John McCain to
select Sarah Palin. Absolutely. It's the thinking that settled on Sarah
Palin that's missing.
No doubt John McCain will get some women to vote for him who wouldn't have
otherwise, and even some independents. But he will also probably lose as many Republicans uncomfortable with a woman on the ticket - let alone a woman with so little experience as Sarah Palin. Not to mention that the choice will cause many undecided Democratic women to be aghast and push them back to following their Democratic beliefs. And further, it will lose all the independents who look at the GOP ticket and say "This is who I'm supposed to give my vote for the next four years to lead and protect America??" It may even appeal to right-wing evangelicals for her strong pro-life stance and get some to vote - but that position and others related to it are specifically what loses even more women voters. And men.
Ultimately, the nomination will lose far, far more votes than it gains.
But this is not the reason the decision is so terrible.
It's always said that the most important decision a presidential candidate makes is their pick for vice president. It shows their thinking and judgment. John McCain, in his first decision, has just told the world that he believes Sarah Palin is the most qualified person to be a heartbeat from the presidency.
Forgetting all the available men for a moment, if John McCain felt it critical to select a woman in an effort to somehow grab the Hillary Clinton supporters, look at his choice of women he had available: Christine Todd Whitman, Kay Bailey Hutchinson, Elizabeth Dole, Susan Collins, even - for goodness sake - Condoleezza Rice. Or Carly Fiorina. Each of these have marks against them, and perhaps some might not have wanted to run, but it's near-impossible to look at the list and suggest to the American public that Sarah Palin is the best choice of Republican women to be vice president. And again, this is ignoring the men he who could have
been chosen.
It's not that Sarah Palin is inexperienced. It's that this is gross political misconduct. Sarah Palin has been governor of Alaska for just a bit over 18 months.
Alaska has a population of 683,000. (Though that doesn't include moose.) This would only make it the 17th most populous city in the United States. Just ahead of Fort Worth.
Before that, she was mayor of Wasilla, Alaska. Population 9,000. I know Republicans like to promote "small town values," but this is taking things to ridiculous extremes, don't you think? I'm from Glencoe, Illinois, population 8,762.
It's so small it doesn't even have a mayor, it has an appointed village manager.
I'm sure that Paul Harlow is doing wonderfully at his job in the village - but I don't expect that he sees himself as even wanting to be a heartbeat from the U.S. President in 18 months. You know what the top news story is on the Glencoe website? "Fire Hydrant Painting Underway." (To be fair, it's the 2 story.
The top news is a clarification about displaying political signage.)
Do you know what the first two "powers and duties" are for the mayor of
Wasilla, Alaska? Check their municipal code:
1. Preside at council meetings. The mayor may take part in the discussion of
matters before the council, but may not vote, except that the mayor may vote
in the case of a tie;
2. Act as ceremonial head of the city;
Swell.
If you live in small town America (and I mean really, really small), look around you and be honest - do you see your mayor (or village manager) as a heartbeat from the presidency in 18 months?
But that's not the reason either that the decision to make Sarah Palin the
VP nominee is so terrible.
It's one thing to discuss how unqualified Sarah Palin is. That's a national matter and huge. But on a grassroots political level, her nomination takes away the Republicans' ONLY weapon in the campaign - calling Barack Obama inexperienced.
They haven't even been trying to run on the issues, or on the eight-year record of George Bush, which John McCain has supported almost 95% of the time. They've only been running on the faux-issue of Barack Obama's experience of 14 years in federal and state government. Yes, Sarah Palin is merely running for VP, not president, but with a 72 year-old candidate with a history of serious medical issues, this is who they're saying is able to step in as president in a heart-beat. She has so little experience that she makes Sen. Obama look like FDR, Winston Churchill and Julius Caesar combined. So, the Republicans pulled the rug out from under themselves. They have no issues. The economy? Housing? The national debt? Education? The Environment? Iraq? Afghanistan? Nothing.
All they have is "Dear Democratic women: please pretend our VP candidate is Hillary Clinton. Just forget that she's pro-life. And against most things Democrats stand for."
But that's not the reason the decision is so terrible.
Because if the hope for John McCain is to get women to vote for him who otherwise supported Hillary Clinton - if anything could get Hillary Clinton campaigning in full force and fury...this is it. She likely would have campaigned hard, but it's in Hillary Clinton's best interest to be the leading voice for women, and the leading woman candidate for president in the future, so having another woman as the potential Vice President (and potential President) is a significant challenge to that. The Republicans just opened Pandora's Box and brought Hillary Clinton roaring to Barack Obama's side on the Democratic train. And Bill Clinton, too.
Yet even that's not the reason the decision is so terrible.
What this does in the most profound and grandiose way possible is give lie to John McCain's pompous posturing that he Always Puts America First. And that undercuts the most prominent campaign issue of his entire career, that everything he does is for reasons of honor. There is nothing honorable about making Sarah Palin your vice presidential nominee. Nothing. Unless you define honor as "blatantly pandering."
But that's not the reason either that this decision is so terrible.
But before we get to that, let's look at the actual announcement to make Gov. Sarah Palin (AK - pop. 683,000) the Republican nominee for president, and put the horrible decision in perspective.
First, John McCain stood at the podium, looking up-and-down reading his speech.
It's impossible not to compare that to Barack Obama giving his majestic speech the night before that even conservative analysts were admiring in awe.
Second, the cameras were polite enough to avoid it, but there were empty seats in the gym. It's impossible not to compare that to a stadium of 75,000 people that Barack Obama spoke to the night before.
Third, when people around the nation were waiting to hear about Sarah Palin's qualifications and gravitas to be Vice President of the United States, the first five minutes of her speech were spent talking about her husband being a champion snowmobiler.
Fourth, when she finally got around to her qualifications, pretty much all we discovered was that she fought to cut property taxes. And then, she basically stopped there.
She did, however, mention becoming energy self-sufficient - by talking about how she supported drilling in Alaska!!! Perhaps to Republicans this is being an environmentalist, but to most of America, not so much. Then again, she's
also against putting polar bears on the endangered species list (which the government did), so maybe her environmental qualifications are more lax than
she thinks.
And then, finally, she spent the rest of her time praising John McCain.
Fine, that's very supportive of her...except that the one question on everyone's mind was not -- "can you say John McCain is a swell guy and tell us that he was a POW", the question on everyone's mind was - "Who in God's name are you, and please tell us why you should be a heart-beat from the presidency?"
In the end, the only case she herself made for being on the ticket was praising Hillary Clinton! That's it, period. Now, it might be enough to attract some women -- but it doesn't make a case for the ticket. Why? Hint: some women did vote for Hillary Clinton solely because she was a woman. But most women voted for Hillary Clinton because she was a Democrat, as well as a woman, who stood for important Democratic values they seriously believed in. If Sarah Palin wants to praise Hillary Clinton, go for it. But at least understand what you're praising. Because it will likely come back and bite you.
It was a thin, nothing, empty speech. It was a speech to be head of the Chamber of Commerce. Compare that to the speech by Joe Biden when Barack Obama introduced him.
Eloquent, soaring and explaining in blunt detail why John McCain should not be president. Joe Biden must have been watching Sarah Palin's speech, in order to take notes in preparation for his debate with her and thought, "This isn't fair."
And all that's not even the reason the decision is so terrible.
The reason is because the election is not about Sarah Palin. Or about Joe Biden.
As much as TV analysts want to be excited by the balloons and hoopla, tomorrow the air will be let out, and there are still over two months to go for the campaign.
The campaign is about Barack Obama and John McCain.
Sarah Palin's nomination doesn't change that. In fact, it reinforces it.
Nothing about putting Sarah Palin on the GOP ticket changes a word that Barack Obama said in his vibrant acceptance speech - about himself, about his issues, and about John McCain's repeatedly faulty judgment on the critical issues facing America.
What Sarah Palin's nomination does do is focus attention on John McCain's age. Indeed, the nomination was made on his birthday, when he turned 72, the oldest man ever to run for president. As the crowd sang "Happy Birthday to You," you almost sensed that through John McCain's clenched smile, saying, "Thanks for reminding me," that what he was thinking underneath was "Please, oh, please, don't sing the 'How old are you now?' part." And how good a message was it that he's saying he supposedly forgot it was his birthday?
Vice presidents are usually selected as people who are adept at blasting the other side's presidential candidate, because it's only the presidential candidate that matters. Joe Biden has already done that - twice - at length, spoken as someone who knows John McCain well and likes him. Sarah Palin had her first chance...and whiffed. Didn't even try. And it's hard to imagine what she has in her arsenal that will remotely allow her to do so in the future.
The election is about the presidential candidates. And the selection of Sarah Palin now allows Barack Obama to campaign untouched by the Republican ticket.
John McCain's only other option is for himself to personally become negative for two months - which is disaster in presidential politics.
Now add on all the problems expressed above. Sarah Palin's inexplicably laughable lack of substance, most-especially on the foreign policy stage.
Her taking away the one issue, experience, Republicans were even attempting.
Her pushing away voters who might otherwise be willing to vote for a senator with 26 years in the Senate. Her bringing Hillary Clinton aggressively back into the campaign. Her inability to offer anything to off-set Joe Biden. Her standing as supposedly the most-qualified Republican woman as John McCain's first decision.
And, in the end, it all focuses back on Barack Obama, with his indictment of eight years of the Bush Administration and of John McCain's flawed judgment - and John McCain's defense of all that.
Republicans might be dancing earlier today, because there was a lot of fun music playing. But the music has stopped. The actual campaign has now started. For Republicans, it might have ended.
The Worst Vice-Presidential Nominee in U.S. History
By Robert J. Elisberg
There was a TV ad for deodorant that said, "Never let them see you sweat." The John McCain campaign has just showed the world that it is drenched.
Selecting Sarah Palin as its choice for a vice presidential candidate is perhaps the worst such choice in American History. To be fair, maybe there are worse choices, but I don't know how bad William O. Butler was when he ran with Lewis Cass against Zachary Taylor.
But it's far worse than Dan Quayle, who was a sitting senator. Worse even
than Geraldine Ferraro, who at least served in Congress for three-terms.
And far worse than William Miller, a choice so obscure when selected by Barry
Goldwater that he (honestly) later did an American Express commercial asking, "Do you know me?" And that ad was after the election. But even Miller had been a Congressman for 12 years. And been a prosecutor during the Nuremberg War trials against Nazis. Sarah Palin lists her credits as a hockey mom.
There was a point during the Republican primaries when I was trying to figure out who I hoped got the presidential nomination. Someone so weak he'd be easy for the Democrats to beat, or someone more challenging who at least wouldn't be a disaster for America. I decided on the latter because America has to resolve its serious problems and can't afford risking some glitch where another George Bush got elected. And so I felt that John McCain, for all his weaknesses, was the lesser of all evils and was glad he got the nomination. Throw that out the window.
McCain-Palin is an unthinkable disaster.
I completely understand the reasoning behind the decision for John McCain to
select Sarah Palin. Absolutely. It's the thinking that settled on Sarah
Palin that's missing.
No doubt John McCain will get some women to vote for him who wouldn't have
otherwise, and even some independents. But he will also probably lose as many Republicans uncomfortable with a woman on the ticket - let alone a woman with so little experience as Sarah Palin. Not to mention that the choice will cause many undecided Democratic women to be aghast and push them back to following their Democratic beliefs. And further, it will lose all the independents who look at the GOP ticket and say "This is who I'm supposed to give my vote for the next four years to lead and protect America??" It may even appeal to right-wing evangelicals for her strong pro-life stance and get some to vote - but that position and others related to it are specifically what loses even more women voters. And men.
Ultimately, the nomination will lose far, far more votes than it gains.
But this is not the reason the decision is so terrible.
It's always said that the most important decision a presidential candidate makes is their pick for vice president. It shows their thinking and judgment. John McCain, in his first decision, has just told the world that he believes Sarah Palin is the most qualified person to be a heartbeat from the presidency.
Forgetting all the available men for a moment, if John McCain felt it critical to select a woman in an effort to somehow grab the Hillary Clinton supporters, look at his choice of women he had available: Christine Todd Whitman, Kay Bailey Hutchinson, Elizabeth Dole, Susan Collins, even - for goodness sake - Condoleezza Rice. Or Carly Fiorina. Each of these have marks against them, and perhaps some might not have wanted to run, but it's near-impossible to look at the list and suggest to the American public that Sarah Palin is the best choice of Republican women to be vice president. And again, this is ignoring the men he who could have
been chosen.
It's not that Sarah Palin is inexperienced. It's that this is gross political misconduct. Sarah Palin has been governor of Alaska for just a bit over 18 months.
Alaska has a population of 683,000. (Though that doesn't include moose.) This would only make it the 17th most populous city in the United States. Just ahead of Fort Worth.
Before that, she was mayor of Wasilla, Alaska. Population 9,000. I know Republicans like to promote "small town values," but this is taking things to ridiculous extremes, don't you think? I'm from Glencoe, Illinois, population 8,762.
It's so small it doesn't even have a mayor, it has an appointed village manager.
I'm sure that Paul Harlow is doing wonderfully at his job in the village - but I don't expect that he sees himself as even wanting to be a heartbeat from the U.S. President in 18 months. You know what the top news story is on the Glencoe website? "Fire Hydrant Painting Underway." (To be fair, it's the 2 story.
The top news is a clarification about displaying political signage.)
Do you know what the first two "powers and duties" are for the mayor of
Wasilla, Alaska? Check their municipal code:
1. Preside at council meetings. The mayor may take part in the discussion of
matters before the council, but may not vote, except that the mayor may vote
in the case of a tie;
2. Act as ceremonial head of the city;
Swell.
If you live in small town America (and I mean really, really small), look around you and be honest - do you see your mayor (or village manager) as a heartbeat from the presidency in 18 months?
But that's not the reason either that the decision to make Sarah Palin the
VP nominee is so terrible.
It's one thing to discuss how unqualified Sarah Palin is. That's a national matter and huge. But on a grassroots political level, her nomination takes away the Republicans' ONLY weapon in the campaign - calling Barack Obama inexperienced.
They haven't even been trying to run on the issues, or on the eight-year record of George Bush, which John McCain has supported almost 95% of the time. They've only been running on the faux-issue of Barack Obama's experience of 14 years in federal and state government. Yes, Sarah Palin is merely running for VP, not president, but with a 72 year-old candidate with a history of serious medical issues, this is who they're saying is able to step in as president in a heart-beat. She has so little experience that she makes Sen. Obama look like FDR, Winston Churchill and Julius Caesar combined. So, the Republicans pulled the rug out from under themselves. They have no issues. The economy? Housing? The national debt? Education? The Environment? Iraq? Afghanistan? Nothing.
All they have is "Dear Democratic women: please pretend our VP candidate is Hillary Clinton. Just forget that she's pro-life. And against most things Democrats stand for."
But that's not the reason the decision is so terrible.
Because if the hope for John McCain is to get women to vote for him who otherwise supported Hillary Clinton - if anything could get Hillary Clinton campaigning in full force and fury...this is it. She likely would have campaigned hard, but it's in Hillary Clinton's best interest to be the leading voice for women, and the leading woman candidate for president in the future, so having another woman as the potential Vice President (and potential President) is a significant challenge to that. The Republicans just opened Pandora's Box and brought Hillary Clinton roaring to Barack Obama's side on the Democratic train. And Bill Clinton, too.
Yet even that's not the reason the decision is so terrible.
What this does in the most profound and grandiose way possible is give lie to John McCain's pompous posturing that he Always Puts America First. And that undercuts the most prominent campaign issue of his entire career, that everything he does is for reasons of honor. There is nothing honorable about making Sarah Palin your vice presidential nominee. Nothing. Unless you define honor as "blatantly pandering."
But that's not the reason either that this decision is so terrible.
But before we get to that, let's look at the actual announcement to make Gov. Sarah Palin (AK - pop. 683,000) the Republican nominee for president, and put the horrible decision in perspective.
First, John McCain stood at the podium, looking up-and-down reading his speech.
It's impossible not to compare that to Barack Obama giving his majestic speech the night before that even conservative analysts were admiring in awe.
Second, the cameras were polite enough to avoid it, but there were empty seats in the gym. It's impossible not to compare that to a stadium of 75,000 people that Barack Obama spoke to the night before.
Third, when people around the nation were waiting to hear about Sarah Palin's qualifications and gravitas to be Vice President of the United States, the first five minutes of her speech were spent talking about her husband being a champion snowmobiler.
Fourth, when she finally got around to her qualifications, pretty much all we discovered was that she fought to cut property taxes. And then, she basically stopped there.
She did, however, mention becoming energy self-sufficient - by talking about how she supported drilling in Alaska!!! Perhaps to Republicans this is being an environmentalist, but to most of America, not so much. Then again, she's
also against putting polar bears on the endangered species list (which the government did), so maybe her environmental qualifications are more lax than
she thinks.
And then, finally, she spent the rest of her time praising John McCain.
Fine, that's very supportive of her...except that the one question on everyone's mind was not -- "can you say John McCain is a swell guy and tell us that he was a POW", the question on everyone's mind was - "Who in God's name are you, and please tell us why you should be a heart-beat from the presidency?"
In the end, the only case she herself made for being on the ticket was praising Hillary Clinton! That's it, period. Now, it might be enough to attract some women -- but it doesn't make a case for the ticket. Why? Hint: some women did vote for Hillary Clinton solely because she was a woman. But most women voted for Hillary Clinton because she was a Democrat, as well as a woman, who stood for important Democratic values they seriously believed in. If Sarah Palin wants to praise Hillary Clinton, go for it. But at least understand what you're praising. Because it will likely come back and bite you.
It was a thin, nothing, empty speech. It was a speech to be head of the Chamber of Commerce. Compare that to the speech by Joe Biden when Barack Obama introduced him.
Eloquent, soaring and explaining in blunt detail why John McCain should not be president. Joe Biden must have been watching Sarah Palin's speech, in order to take notes in preparation for his debate with her and thought, "This isn't fair."
And all that's not even the reason the decision is so terrible.
The reason is because the election is not about Sarah Palin. Or about Joe Biden.
As much as TV analysts want to be excited by the balloons and hoopla, tomorrow the air will be let out, and there are still over two months to go for the campaign.
The campaign is about Barack Obama and John McCain.
Sarah Palin's nomination doesn't change that. In fact, it reinforces it.
Nothing about putting Sarah Palin on the GOP ticket changes a word that Barack Obama said in his vibrant acceptance speech - about himself, about his issues, and about John McCain's repeatedly faulty judgment on the critical issues facing America.
What Sarah Palin's nomination does do is focus attention on John McCain's age. Indeed, the nomination was made on his birthday, when he turned 72, the oldest man ever to run for president. As the crowd sang "Happy Birthday to You," you almost sensed that through John McCain's clenched smile, saying, "Thanks for reminding me," that what he was thinking underneath was "Please, oh, please, don't sing the 'How old are you now?' part." And how good a message was it that he's saying he supposedly forgot it was his birthday?
Vice presidents are usually selected as people who are adept at blasting the other side's presidential candidate, because it's only the presidential candidate that matters. Joe Biden has already done that - twice - at length, spoken as someone who knows John McCain well and likes him. Sarah Palin had her first chance...and whiffed. Didn't even try. And it's hard to imagine what she has in her arsenal that will remotely allow her to do so in the future.
The election is about the presidential candidates. And the selection of Sarah Palin now allows Barack Obama to campaign untouched by the Republican ticket.
John McCain's only other option is for himself to personally become negative for two months - which is disaster in presidential politics.
Now add on all the problems expressed above. Sarah Palin's inexplicably laughable lack of substance, most-especially on the foreign policy stage.
Her taking away the one issue, experience, Republicans were even attempting.
Her pushing away voters who might otherwise be willing to vote for a senator with 26 years in the Senate. Her bringing Hillary Clinton aggressively back into the campaign. Her inability to offer anything to off-set Joe Biden. Her standing as supposedly the most-qualified Republican woman as John McCain's first decision.
And, in the end, it all focuses back on Barack Obama, with his indictment of eight years of the Bush Administration and of John McCain's flawed judgment - and John McCain's defense of all that.
Republicans might be dancing earlier today, because there was a lot of fun music playing. But the music has stopped. The actual campaign has now started. For Republicans, it might have ended.
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