Phantasmagoric Dreams

Nobody Likes A Smartass

2008-08-20T01:07:00.000-05:00

Regardless of what they say.

Over the years I have wondered why I have had so few relationships. I'm not ugly. I have a wicked sense of humor. Fairly easy to get along with. Honest, to a fault even. But yet I was still single. Then today, while squaring off with one of the stupidest people I've ever had the displeasure of encountering, on one of my favorite sites, it hit me. Intelligence is okay, as long as said intelligence doesn't exceeed the other person's. Oh. Damn. I guess this is where I've gone wrong all these years.

Ever since I was little, I've had people say, "God, she's smart." I learned to read by the time I was four. Couldn't tie my shoe till I was six though. I very, very, very rarely need spellcheck. I speak three languages, one of them being Latin, and am learning numbers four and five. (Japanese and French.) I am very articulate and have an extensive vocabulary. I read constantly. Yes, I am the intellectual equivalent of God. And am not afraid to prove it either.

I believe this is because I have an uncle who likes to goade me into intellectual sparring matches, and who may or may not play devil's advocate most of the time. And believe me, it's a lot easier than you think. I am the type of person who knows I'm right, and as such, have this almost compulsive need to correct misinformation. Now, if a subject does come up that I don't know anything about, I will say so, but I quickly remedy it.

I don't know if it's the fact that I'm insanely intelligent or the fact that I'm not shy about letting people know it, but it seems to turn many people off. I can't help it, really. I used to think guys valued intelligence in girls. But yet all I saw were these stupid bimbos, who were rarely single, with a man. And there I was with nobody. I don't get it. I've found myself at times wishing I were dumber, so I wouldn't know when I was being used, or so aware of all that's wrong with this world, so I could live in my own insulated bubble, none the wiser. And then I realize that these bimbos are also stupid conformist sheep, and I get over it real quickly.

Answers to the Musical Guessing Game

2008-08-18T13:37:00.000-05:00

Okay, so I'm assuming that everybody who's going to take a whack at it has, so without further ado, here's the answers.

1. She's in Parties by Bauhaus.

2. Return to Innocence by Enigma. This is on Exit to Eden. You know that kinky movie with Rosie O'Donnell in it. Scary.

3. Sweat by Tool. Again not one of my favorite Tool songs.

4. Good Enough by Sarah McLachlan. This song is one of my favorites. It's about abusive relationships, and learning to be strong and being good enough for yourself.

5. Precious by Depeche Mode.

6. Lookaway by Sepultura and Jonathan Davis of Korn.

7. Just Say Yes by The Cure. I really don't like this song. But my computer seems to think I do. It plays it all the time.

8. Quietly by Guano Apes. This is a German alternative band that I discovered several years ago. Their lyrics don't make much sense in English. This band never took off outside of Germany. Don't know why, they're pretty good.

9. I Predict a Riot by Kaiser Chiefs.

10. Wonder by Natalie Merchant.

11. Everybody Hurts by R.E.M. OMG, everybody should know this song!

12. Sultans of Swing by Dire Straits. Thank my dad for this one, he's a Dire Straits fan, and he wanted to me download some of their songs one day and burn a disc of them so he could have it to listen to at work. I didn't delete them when I was done.

13. Best of You by Foo Fighters. The first time I heard this song, I was watching the first season of Breaking Bonaduce, and his wife wrote the lyrics on a mirror and gave it to him for his birthday, and he blew a gasket. That is what happens when you marry somebody after only knowing them for a day, duh dipshit! They're fucking clueless, I swear. Anyway, moving on.

14. Haunted by Type O Negative. This is off their October Rust CD. It was never a single, but it's a good song. Sexy, even.

15. Kissing You by Des'ree. From Romeo + Juliet. The one with Leo DiCaprio in it. That song was the only good part of the whole movie.

16. My Own Summer (Shove It) by Deftones.

17. Renegade by Styx. I can't believe some of you *cough*TB*cough* didn't know this one.

18. Iris by Goo Goo Dolls. Yes, I have a lot of sappy pop music on here. Don't tell anybody! They'll never take me seriously again.

19. Everybody's Gotta Learn Sometime by Beck. Ahem, this is the song that plays at the end of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless mind when the credits roll.

20. Don't Cry by Seal. Bet you're kicking yourself now, huh? :p

Heh. That was fun. I might do it again on my other blog.

Get Some Maroon Cantaloupe In Your Life

2008-08-18T05:21:00.000-05:00

So, I started another blog. Only this one's all about all things entertainment. Music, books, movies, computers, stuff like that. No whining about my life. Don't worry, you'll still get to read about me whining about my life here. This one's not going anywhere. It's just that I like movies and music a lot, but reviews of stuff like that don't really fit the theme here. It would have seemed out of place to me.

So, check out me and a couple of friends over on Maroon Cantaloupe for all your entertainment needs. Heh, yeah right. I'm still trying to set the place up, we don't even have our advertising sorted or our domain up and running yet. But it's still perusable. I posted my very first review this morning.

Oh, right, the name. The story behind it is way more boring than you might think. Basically, I was trying to think up new names for it, and couldn't come up with anything that would fit an entertainment blog, so I found that band name and song generator, and typed in music, and it was one of the names that was spit back at me. I liked it, it was a little quirky, so it stuck. Anyway check it out. Hope ya'll like it.

Musical Guessing Game!

2008-08-15T10:09:00.000-05:00

I have a very eclectic music collection, so this should be fun. But first, some rules.

1. Put your mp3 player or music player on your computer on random.
2. Post the first four lines from the first 20 songs that play, no matter how embarrassing the song (skip repeat artists).
3. Post and let everyone you know guess (in the comments!) what song and artist the lines come from.
4. Don’t fucking cheat, you Google whores!

On with the show!

1. Learning lines in the rain/Special Effects by lunatic and drinks/the graveyard scene/the golden years

2. Love, devotion, feeling, emotion/Don't be afraid to be weak/Don't be too proud to be strong/Just look into your heart my friend

3. I'm sweating and breathing and staring and thinking and sinking deeper/It's almost like I'm swimming/The sun is burning hot again/On the hunter and the fisherman and I'm trying to remember when but it makes me dizzy

4. Hey your glass is empty/It's a hell of a long way home/Why don't you let me take you/It's not good to go alone

5. Precious and fragile things need special handling/My God what have we done to you/We always tried to share the tenderest of care/Now look what we have put you through

6. Each time I pull it apart I get disgusted/Can't do it today/What makes it so good/That a man would kill for it lie just a little bit

7. Say this is it/Don't say maybe/Don't say no/Say this it

8. Quietly explodes your love/Your insecurity is so soft to me/I can't let you bleeding/We are falling into us

9. Oh, watching the people get lairy/It's not very pretty I tell thee/Walking through town is quite scary/And not very sensible either

10. Doctors have come from distant cities/Just to see me/Stand over my bed/Disbelieving what they see

11. When your day is long/And the night, the night is yours alone/And you're sure you've had enough of this life/Hang on

12. You get a shiver in the dark/It's raining in the park but meantime/South of the river you stop and you hold everything/A band is blowing Dixie double four time

13. I've got another confession to make/I'm your fool/Everyone's got their chains to break/Holding you

14. A swollen sun melting in the horizon/Between the sheets where I wait for her to come/A living flame impossible to resist/Burning me deep with every bite, kiss, and lick

15. Pride could stand a thousand trials/The strong would never fall/But watching stars without you/My soul cries

16. Hey you, big star/Tell me when it's over/Hey you, big in the mood/Guide me to shelter

17. Oh, mama I'm in fear for my life from the long arm of the law/Law man has put an end to my running and I'm so far from my home/Oh mama I can hear you a crying you're so scared and all alone/Hangman is coming down from the gallows and I don't have very long

18. And I'd give up forever to touch you/Cause I know that you feel me somehow/You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be/And I don't want to go home right now

19. Change your heart/Look around you/Change your heart/It will astound you

20. Don't be so hard on yourself/Those tears are for someone else/I hear your voice on the phone/I hear you feel so alone

And there you have it. A random sampling of music from my computer. See if you can guess.

Politics Pervade

2008-08-14T14:31:00.000-05:00

Found this funny little election video on Youtube. Enjoy.

How I (Didn't) Lose My Virginity

2008-08-12T04:37:00.000-05:00

Vix is talking about virginity. I thought I'd offer up my own personal story. And with this, I bid you goodnight, because I am sexually frustrated.
__________

When I was 17, about to be 18, I had a boyfriend. He was 16. Yeah, I like 'em young, apparently. I was with this guy for about 7 months. I shall call him The Italian. I would say he was my first love. And I was a virgin.

One Friday afternoon (late afternoon), I went over to his house. His mother loved me. She let me stay the whole weekend. She even told us we could sleep together with the stipulation that I slept under the covers fully clothed and he slept over the covers fully clothed. My mother would have killed me if she had known any of this.

So, we went out in the backyard and lay down on a blanket and just talked for awhile. Now the Italian was one of maybe three guys I've dated that I could really just talk to. And at the time it was nice. He never pressured me to do anything I didn't want to do and up to that point, the most we'd done was some heavy petting and making out. And boy could he kiss.

To my utter delight, his mother came outside and told us she had to go to the store. As soon as we heard her car leave, he went inside to see if anybody was left in the house. Nobody was there but us. He came back outside and sat down next to me and pushed me back on the blanket and started kissing me. Hard. I was totally turned on by then. We didn't waste any time getting semi-naked there in the backyard.

After some heavy foreplay, he went down on me. I'd heard stories about this, but none of them prepared me for what I felt. At first it felt like I'd peed myself. Then it got a lot better. He was licking and licking for all he was worth, and I could feel myself getting closer and closer, but suddenly we heard car doors slam. I quickly pulled up my pants, and sat up and we acted as if nothing had happened. One of his sisters came in the backyard and told him his mom wanted us, so we went inside. I think she had an idea of what we could have been doing so she wanted us to watch a movie with her and his sisters. So we did. And the entire time, I couldn't stop thinking about what he was doing to me out there in the backyard.

When the movie was over, we were sent to bed. His mother had told us under no circumstances were we to get it on. This wasn't the first time I'd slept over, but it was the first time she let us sleep in the same bed. We went to bed, and about an hour later, we couldn't keep our hands off each other. Our clothes came off, we were making out, grinding against each other. I was nervous that any second somebody would come upstairs to check on us, and we'd be caught red handed.

I pulled off my underwear, and I was totally naked. He started kissing my neck, then my breasts, then my stomach, until his head was between my legs.

"Oh, Jesus," I whispered, as he started to licking. He was a lot rougher about it this time, and in less than five minutes, I whispered that I wanted to feel him inside me. He still had his shorts on, and he turned on the light and started looking for something. When he didn't find it, he went downstairs. I was confused, I had no idea why he'd stopped. Until he came back upstairs and dropped trou and started putting on a condom. And I watched as he did it, scared and fascinated at the same time. I'd never seen a penis that close up before. Actually, until that point, I'd never seen one in real life.

It was huge. It was about 4 or 5 inches around and about 8 or 9 long. I don't know what I was expecting, but I'd heard the bigger the better. So, he shut off the light, and climbed back into bed, and we started kissing again. He pushed me back onto the bed, and I could feel him between my legs. I held my breath and waited the split second as he pushed it in. And I felt like I was being ripped apart from the inside. He was barely in, and I started hyperventilating. He tried to calm me down, but I kept saying it hurt too much. He took his time, and slowly tried to go further, but I couldn't take it anymore and told him to take it out. By this time I had started crying and I just wanted to scream from the pain. And any second, I just knew somebody was going to hear me and come up there.

He gave in and pulled out, and I knew he was frustrated and upset. I apologized profusely, but it didn't help. He rolled away from me, and quietly, I put my clothes back on. I was still in pain, and I felt like shit because we didn't finish. And I had really wanted to.

The next morning, I thought he was okay. He seemed fine to me. When we woke up, he put his arm around me and kissed me. I asked him if he wanted to try again, but he said no, and something about how his sisters would probably come up there to wake us up in a little bit. It wasn't his sisters, but about ten minutes later the dog bounded up the stairs.

I don't know if his mother ever found out. About a week or so later we got into a huge fight and broke up. We never did finish what we started.

10 Things I Hate About You

2008-08-11T03:52:00.000-05:00

Well, not hate, that's such an ugly word. But 'don't like' doesn't really fit the title. Anyway, moving right along to The List.

1. I don't like that I'm self-destructive.

2. I don't like that I'm insecure.

3. I don't like that I'm judgmental.

4. I don't like that I can't let the past go.

5. I don't like that I'm negative all the time.

I thought about this list. I thought it would be longer. I can't say I don't like the way I look, because I think I'm pretty. I've made peace with the fact that I will never be a size 2, regardless of what other people say about my weight. So, I got a little bit of a belly, BFD. I told my mom Saturday that I was making this list. She asked me "Well, what do you like about yourself?" I made a list for that too. In no particular order, here are the things I like.

1. That I have brilliant comic timing.

2. That I am intelligent.

3. That I am open minded.

4. That I am loyal to the people I care about.

5. That I don't give up easily.

6. That my friends can always count on me to be there for them.

Ya notice how the second list is slightly longer than the first? That's a good thing, no? Now, if anybody has any ideas how to change the above, suggestions will be greatly appreciated.

Today I am thankful for: Children, they put things in perspective. A nap really is the most important thing in life.

Ch-ch-changes!

2008-08-09T08:41:00.000-05:00

I did it again. I changed my blog. Sorry, I couldn't resist. I'm cleaning house, emotionally speaking, so I felt the need to spruce up my internet "home".

I am making a list of all the things I don't like about myself - and I'm going to change it, even if it kills me. Because yesterday, after that post (which you can no longer see), I started thinking. That it wasn't about him. None of it was ever about him. It was me. I'm the one with the problem. I am so afraid of letting somebody in that I will do anything to keep them away. Even to the point of creating excess problems to prove that I should just be alone. My mother told me a long time ago that I'd never be satisfied until I ruined every good thing in my life. I'm starting to think that there may be some truth to that.

But you know what, this is where it stops. I can't be that negative, self-destructive, insecure person anymore. If I continue down this path, I will ruin my life. I'm starting to realize that attitude really is everything. So, like I said, I'm going to make a list of everything I don't like about myself, and I'm going to change it. I'm going to get off my ass and do something to better myself, whether I like it or not. And I'm going to find something to be thankful for every day. If you wanna see the list, I'll show it to you after I finish it. Hey, wait a minute, that's a great idea. I'll post it here tomorrow, because I need a nap before I have to go my sister's house this afternoon, and then that will help you all keep me accountable.

Today I am thankful for: another day to learn from my mistakes.

So Long, Scarecrow

2008-08-07T07:54:00.000-05:00

I was sitting here, wondering what to write about. Nothing was coming to mind. I'd already told ya'll how I broke my foot. Then, lightbulb moment, I remembered that I told you that I'd tell you all about #1 Crush. I gotta tell ya, my poor 16 year old heart had never been more crushed than it was with that guy.

When I was in third grade, my mother went to work for a certain church/charity organization. I'm not going to name it, but if you think real hard, you'll probably figure it out. They're EVERYWHERE, so it can't possibly be that hard to figure out. Anywho, after she had been working for them for awhile, they decided to invite my sisters and I to their kiddie groups. We went, despite much vehement protesting from me. See, even then I was reclusive and antisocial. Wow, I just realized what a hypocrite I am for bitching about the BF being the same way. Anyway, moving on. So, we went. And after awhile, I started to kind of like it. Made some friends. My mom and my sisters and I became regular members of this church.

Long about when I was 14, this woman and her two sons started coming too. She also was working for them, and they roped her in the same way they'd roped my mom in. Her firstborn was my age, 14. His brother, #1 Crush, was 13 at the time. Shaddup, I know what you're thinking. Just because the BF, #1 Crush, and two of my exes were younger than me does not make me a cradlerobber or a couger in training. Moving right along.

Now, there weren't many kids that were regular members of this church, and we all were pretty good friends with each other. So, it wasn't out of the ordinary that I befriended #1 Crush and his brother. The more I got to know him, the stronger my crush got. I do think that it's possible to go beyond a crush to full blown love, and at the ripe old age of 15, I think I fell in love with him. And it was obvious. Painfully obvious. Everybody, from his mother to mine, to all our friends in the church, and even him, knew it. But my mother had forbidden me from dating until I was at least 16, same with his mother. Oh, but that didn't stop them from plotting to get us together, no. There were many times that his mother and mine would be off in a corner talking to each other, and later when we'd go home, my mother would taunt me with the knowledge that they thought we'd make such a cute couple.

It was around this time in my life that I had gotten incredibly curious about other religions. My mother didn't see anything wrong with my exploration. She let me go to my best friend's Hanukkah and Yom Kippur celebrations. I'd started reading books about Wicca and Buddhism. I started asking the pastor about atheism and agnosticism and what they meant. The more I learned, the more I started questioning my own faith, to the point where I realized I had none in the Christian religion. So, unbeknownst to anybody but my younger sister, I decided I was going to be Wiccan. I still went to church, because I didn't know how or whether to tell my mom of my newfound religion.

I turned 16, and I started my junior year of high school. I still had feelings for #1 Crush, and Homecoming was right around the corner. I was determined go to this dance, and it was going to be with him. So, I called up his mother. And I asked her if he could go with me to Homecoming. She said it was fine with her, but she didn't know if he wanted to go. So, after a moment of panic, between her handing him the phone and him saying hello, I got up the courage to ask him. It didn't take him long to say, "Uh, sure." I got off the phone a few minutes later, and I thought I was going to die. I had accomplished the seemingly impossible. I had asked him out on a date, and before he was allowed to date, no less. I called my best friend, and told her about it, and we squealed like teenage girls do, and she tells me, "You should try to kiss him." Man, I wanted to.

A week before homecoming however, it was not to be. He called me to tell me he couldn't go. They had implemented this thing at my school where if your grades weren't at least a C average in every class, you couldn't participate in extra-curricular activites and they considered dances to be extra-curricular. Turns out, he was failing his math class. I was crestfallen. That is until he suggested we go see a movie instead. That actually made me more nervous than going to the dance. I was going to be in the dark, mere inches away from him. Our legs could touch, or our hands. Would he try to hold my hand? Would I get away with trying to kiss him? Would he do the old yawn and stretch? I didn't know, and I was excited and nervous as hell. The night of, I was so nervous that I thought I was going to ralph on myself. I almost called him and said I was sick, but my mother wouldn't let me. I went. We saw Rush Hour. No yawn and stretch, no kiss, no hand holding, no nothing. By the time it was over, I was convinced that he had absolutely no interest in me, and it was only a pity date. Of course, I didn't help matters by blurting out what my best friend had told me about trying to kiss him and hold his hand. It didn't seem to affect our friendship though, afterward we carried on like normal.

During the second semester of that year, I started taking Intro to Journalism. I met a couple of girls and became friends with them who turned out to be Wiccan. We got to talking about it one day, and it was like I'd found people who finally understood me. It was great. However, these girls were very vocal in their rebelliousness, and everybody in school knew it. One of them actually wore a pentacle to school. As the semester progressed, our teacher told our class that we were going to produce one of the last issues of the school paper for that year. And each one of us was responsible for writing a story for it. I was given the task of writing an editorial. At first, I had no idea what to write about, but as I sat down and thought, it took on a life of it's own. I wound up writing a story that outed myself as a Wiccan. I had no idea it was going to go over like a lead balloon.

The day it came out, I felt smug. I read and re-read what I had written and I was feeling pretty proud of myself. It wasn't until I went home from school that day that I found out what exactly I had done. Unknown to me, the church also got the school paper. Why, I have no idea, but they did. All the way home, my mother wouldn't speak to me. She pulled up in front of my grandparents' house, and told me to get out. I asked her if she was mad at me. Then she just exploded on me, telling me that she'd seen the article, how embarrassed she was, and how I'd "hurt" the people we went to church with. She was so mad at me, that I had to spend the night and my grandparents' house. She'd even showed it to them, and they were not pleased at all. The next day, it got worse. I found a note from #1 Crush in my locker. This was highly unusual, because we didn't write notes to each other. I didn't have time to read it before Pentacle Girl ran up to me with that day's copy of the school paper. Yes, they published it every day. She told me I wasn't going to believe what somebody had written about me. She shoved it into my hand, and I started to read. The more I read, the sicker I felt. #1 Crush had written a letter to the editor, calling me a liar ("I know this girl, she goes to my church, she's no Wiccan), an attention whore, and a whole bunch of other nasty names. I had never in my in life seen anybody react this way over something I'd done before. I went to class, totally forgetting about the note he sent me.

When I got home that night, I was emptying my pockets, and I pulled out the note. I unfolded it and started reading, and I started to cry. The triade continued. He'd called me a liar again, said I was a blasphemer, along with some more very hurtful things and the end it said, "I can't even look at you anymore." I showed it to my mom, and she either was still sore from being so thoroughly embarrassed my by actions or she thought I was getting what I deserved, but she wasn't very sympathetic. I remember asking her why he would something like that, and she said, "Maybe because you hurt him." At the time the only thing I could think about was the fact that he'd hurt me. I knew our friendship was over, and anything else that might have been between us. True to his word, he never spoke to me again.

The last time I saw #1 Crush, I was 19. I was with Shawn. He would have been 18 at the time, and had just graduated from school. Shawn and I had gone to see a movie. To my utter surprise, he was working there. He was taking tickets. I smiled at him, and asked him how his mom was doing, and he either didn't recognize me or refused to acknowledge that he knew me, but he never answered me.

There was a lot of history between me and #1 Crush. I'd known him for close to three years. A lot of things that happened with us, I haven't even mentioned. We were really close. It dawned on me years later that the reason he did what he did wasn't because he hated me, but because he really did love me and thought that he knew who I was. I realized this after Shawn and I had gone our separate ways, and I remembered how angry I was over the fact I thought I knew him only to find that I didn't know him at all. Sometimes I regret doing what I did the way I did. Still doesn't change the fact that I don't believe in God anymore, if I ever did. But if I'd have known it would have hurt people I cared about as much as it did, I would have just kept it to myself.

Just Call Me Grace

2008-08-04T23:46:00.000-05:00

Grace is my mother's aunt. She is the clumsiest person I know. My grandmother used to tell us that she'd trip over the flowers in the rug. Yesterday, I think I usurped her title.

Ya'll remember I have a broken foot right? Well, let me tell you how that happened. A week and half ago, my sister and I were rearranging our living room furniture. We have an 8 foot tall, solid oak book case in there. I helped my mother move that thing in here when my sister and my grandma moved to town in 2006. It's not really that heavy. Well, I picked up my side, my sister picked up her side. She starts across the room, and I didn't have a good hold on it, and she basically pulled it out of my hands. Right on top of my foot. Wound up breaking the first metatarsal in two places on my right foot. After the drugs took effect, and I was pretty much in a Percocet induced haze, it wasn't so bad.

Sunday, I went and got my hair cut. A la Siouxsie Sioux circa 1980. It's really cute. Very punk princess. I was ~~walking~~ hobbling on my crutches back to my mother's house afterward. Well, one of my crutches and my left foot came down in a hole and I tripped and fell. And twisted my left ankle. I crawled back to my mother's house, told her what happened, and she took me to hospital. It's kinda funny, cause the doctor that saw me when I broke my foot was there again. He took one look at me and said, "Back again I see. Did you miss me or something?" Turns out I tore a ligament pretty badly. I gotta tell ya guys, this sprained ankle hurts way worse than my foot did. Even the sheet brushing my toes make me cry. So, I'm back on the Percocet (what fun!) and now I'm in a wheelchair because I can't walk. And I may need to have surgery on my ankle to repair the ligament, because my ankle is so weak from spraining it so many times. This really makes it hard to go find a job, because I'm pretty much trapped in the house. I can't do anything for myself; I even have to have help going to the bathroom and taking a bath. I'm beginning to understand how my grandma felt because she couldn't do things for herself.

So, how was ya'll's weekend?

Deal With The Devil

2008-08-01T05:29:00.001-05:00

I went to my mother's house last night. Ya know how I said I was still jobless and about to be evicted? Well, my mother took it upon herself to take out a loan to pay our rent and electric and water bills. And then she expected me to fall all over myself and be grateful for it. I really hate my mother sometimes. Of course, my sister was all for it. I can't really blame her. She doesn't see things quite the way I do.

It's not really the money that pissed me off. It's the fact that she didn't talk to us about it first before taking it upon herself to do something like this. It's the fact that she's trying to make up for 25 years of emotional neglect with some money as a band aid when it's too fucking late.

Mommy dearest couldn't quite understand why I was less than pleased with the idea. "I don't know why you're being so pigheaded about it," she said. Really? Well, let me tell you why.

I'm 25. And I have nothing to show for it. Not a goddamn thing. I have no job. No money. I don't even have a fucking car or know how to drive. I flunked out of college. I feel like I am worthless. I can't take care of myself.

I hear all kinds of stories about people I went to high school with. This one's married, that one's having a kid, and that other one's opening up their own law office. Or he just got drafted to the NFL. She got a record deal. Seems like everybody's getting what they wanted except me. I get stuck Podunk USA.

It's a really bitter pill to swallow to know you were meant for more than this, but somehow you missed it all.

Another Year Older

2008-07-31T01:38:00.001-05:00

25 years and 4 hours and 16 minutes ago, yours truly made her entrance into the world. Kicking and screaming like the prima donna she is.

Birthdays are supposed to be a good time to reflect on one's life. I was blessed, or cursed depending upon how you want to look at it, with the gift of insightfulness. I reflect, brood, whatever about my life just about every single day, birthday or no. So instead of whining about how everything sucks like usual, I thought I'd regale you with a story. That I wrote. I really like this story, even though I wrote it years ago, and it really needs to be fleshed out more. As far as sheer raw talent goes, you can see that I have it in spades after reading the story.

And yes, this is kind of a cop out post. See, I was hobbling down the street on my crutches this afternoon, and happened upon a 50 dollar bill lying on the sidewalk. So I treated myself to dinner, a movie, and a bottle of champagne. And champagne goes straight to my head, so I need to lay down so the room will stop spinning. Anyway, enjoy the story. And to those of you who are just fucked up enough, I will find out if you stole it, and I will hunt you down and fuck you up.

The Highwayman

It wasn't a nice night to be out. Not by yourself on a lonely highway. And definitely not after the things he'd heard in the last town, or rather he DIDN'T hear in the last town. Not that anybody said anything to him. They acted like they couldn't see him, and didn't pay any attention to him. Not that it mattered much anyway. He'd just wanted to look at a map, and get out of the car. Driving all night in a desert was bound to play tricks on the mind.

He'd found a little roadside cafe and truckstop and pulled over. The bright lights of the awning over the gas pumps had been the only thing he'd seen in this god-forsaken area of the country since he left the last town an hour and half ago. No wonder it was the referred to as the Forgotten Acres. Hopefully nobody forgot he was out here.

He drove up and parked in front of the cafe. Looking around in the dark, he got out of the car. There weren't many people there, a few truckers. It was after two in the morning, so it was reasonable not to expect many people. He just felt uneasy about this trip. He went inside, map in hand, and walked up to the cash register where a skinny brunette in her early forties at the least was standing reading a tabloid. She was chomping on gum and looked up at him when the door opened. Picking up a menu she said, "Just you, sugar?"

He smiled at her. He hair was dull and dry, her skin sallow stretched tight over her skull. He was fairly certain that it was a drug addiction of some kind. "No, ma'am, I'm not staying long. I think I've lost my way, and I was just wondering if you could help me get back on the interstate. I think I took a wrong turn somewhere."

She looked at him with beady brown eyes. Surveying him for a minute, she told him he was already on the interstate. "That's Interstate 6."

"No, that can't be right. I was just in a town called Fredrickson. It's not on the Interstate. According to this map, Frederickson is on County Road 91."

"Did you get that map in Fredrickson?" she asked, pointing with her long, dirty, red fingernail. It looked more like a talon.

"Well, yes. Why?"

"Because everything in Fredrickson is old. It's like they seem to want to hang onto the past and not move forward. Everything's come to a standstill in Fredrickson. County Road 91 was incorporated into the interstate 45 years ago. That map has got be 50 years old, at least." She turned on her heel, snatched up a coffee pot and started refilling empty cups. The sleepy truckers thanked her quietly, and turned back to their meals and books, or table mates if they had one.

He stared at the map, dumbfounded. He couldn't find a date on it. He thought back to the bar and grill he had been in. The people were very strange. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but something had been off about the town. Not just the fact that everything seemed outdated, but the people themselves seemed to have a dull, lifeless quality. They paid no attention to him when he walked in. Even the waitress seemed like taking his order was routine, and wasn't really all there. It was strange, to say the least. He shook his head to clear the memory away. He wasn't there now. He was twenty miles down the road. But the feeling of something being not quite right still lingered.

The waitress had made her way back up the row of tables, and stood behind the register, flipping through her magazine. She'd glanced expectantly at him once, then ignored him. Obviously he wasn't going to be a paying customer, no need to keep up pretenses of caring. He'd gone back out to his car, studied the useless map again and tossed it aside. He'd find his own way. This was the first time he'd ever been in the desert. He had no idea where he was. Or how to get to where he was going. Oh, well, he thought to himself. If he kept going to west, he was bound to run into a town, or better yet, a big city. He drove the car over to a gas pump, inserted his credit card, and filled up the tank. Hopefully that would get him to where he was going.

He started back down the road. The waitress swore it was Interstate 6. He still wasn't too sure about that. He flicked on the radio dial, and listened to Paul Harvey drone on about the rest of the story. He wasn't listening to it, but the sound of a voice talking helped him concentrate, and not fall asleep. The dark was oppressive out here in the desert, with no lights in the distance. At that moment he realized he hadn't seen any cars in front of, behind or coming toward him since he'd left Tucumcari. A shiver ran down his back. The night suddenly had taken on an erie quality, and he wished like hell he had stayed and had a cup of coffee at that truckstop. Not a lot he could do about it now. He kept driving, getting antsy, and finally he had to pull over for a bit of a nap. He locked all the doors, turned the ignition off, and laid his seat back. After all, he hadn't seen any cars on this road, no one was going to bother him. And even if someone happened down the road, they couldn't see him. It was way too dark, and a headlight wouldn't provide much light.

Settling back and closing his eyes, he relaxed in the seat. Hopefully it would be daylight when he woke up, and he wouldn't feel so disoriented, and he'd find his way back to where he was going. Just as soon as he'd made up his mind about this, there was a tap on the window. He jerked up, startled that there was someone or something on the other side of that glass. He almost didn't want to open his eyes to face whatever it was, but if it was a cop, he'd need to. It was a woman looking at him, and from the looks of her, she was just as jumpy as he was. He rolled down the window. She was obviously trying to get away from something. Or someone.

"Where are you going? Can I hitch a ride?" He looked at her, although he couldn't see much in the dark. She had a backpack slung over her shoulder. He wasn't real sure she was over 18, and he didn't want to be picked up for kidnapping.

"Mesa. Where are you going?"

"Away from here," she said, reaching in the window and unlocking the back door and got in. She climbed over the front seat and plopped down, wrestling the bag of her shoulder. He turned on the dome light, and instantly she slapped her hand to it. "Turn that off!" she hissed. "If anybody comes by here and sees me, I'm toast."

He got a brief glimpse of her as he flicked it off. She was wearing a dirty white tank top and a pair of torn jeans. She had long dark hair and a deep tan. Definitely over 18, he thought, shifting in his seat. He started the car again, a little pissed that he wasn't gonna get any sleep. She opened the glove compartment and the feeble light that shined out was enough. She started digging around in her bag, and pulled out a pack of cigrettes. She offered him one, and he took it, tucking it behind his ears.

"Where you from?" he asked her. She lit her cigarette, and held the lighter out to him, ignoring the question. She gazed out the window, watching the landscape slip by. He lit his own, and rolled down the window, concentrating on the road ahead of him.

"You know what time it time is?" she asked after a few minutes.

"When I stopped the car it was getting on to three. Maybe three-thirty now."

"Oh." She reached over and flicked dial on the radio, and a jarring, squealing sound poured out from the speakers. It grated on his nerves, but he didn't turn it. Even after he started to feel a dull ache in his head, he didn't turn it. The undertone of the music kept him riveted. Dark and angry. The way this night was starting to feel. He smoked the cigarette to a stub and flipped it out the window. His gaze slid over to the girl in the passenger seat. He didn't even know what her name was, not that it mattered. She obviously wasn't up for 20 questions. He tried anyway.

"So, what's your name?" He said as he watched the stripes fly by.

"It's better if I don't tell you what my name is. That way you can't lie if someone asks if you've seen me. I got some bad people looking for me," she said, looking at him in profile. He was young looking. She pegged him at 32, even with the faint lines around his eyes and forehead. "What's your name?"

"You have to give too. I asked first."

"Okay, fine. It's Anna. Now it's your turn."

"Richard. I'm named after Richard the Lionhearted, who I'm related to somehow."

She sighed lightly. "I'm not named after anybody. I got this name from the nuns that took me in. My parents couldn't even name me before the dropped me on the convent's doorstep in the rain. I guess Anna was the best they could come up with." She looked down at her hands, fiddling with her nails. She was getting antsy. She wanted out of Quay County. But she wasn't getting anywhere anytime soon on two feet. She could have sworn she'd seen this strip of road once tonight, but out here, everything looked the same.

They drove on in silence for a half hour, before he spoke again. It was barely audible, but she heard him anway. "I saw something I shouldn't have seen. I don't want to talk about it."

"Look, I'm not above stopping this car, and putting you out on the side of the road if you don't tell me why you're in such a hurry to get out of New Mexico. I'm not going to have drug dealers and murderers on my tail. I gotta worry about myself too, you know."

"Well, Richard, you're not going to believe me, even if I told you. Let's just say I never should have been in Fredrickson. We shoulda just kept going, and we would have been fine. But you know how men are, never listen to a woman when she says that something's wrong."

"Wait, you were in Fredrickson? When?"

"About one, or shortly thereafter. My fiance wanted something to drink, and it was the first town we'd come to, so he stopped. I kept tellin' 'im that I didn't like it, that it didn't feel right, but he wouldn't listen to me. I stayed in the car, and locked the doors." Her breath started to hitch in her throat, and he put a hand on her arm to comfort her. He couldn't believe that he'd been in the same town only minutes after her. Quietly, he pressed her to finish the rest of her story. "I fell asleep, but it was only for a minute or two. I looke around, and I didn't see anything at all. It was completely deserted. I didn't know what was keeping Adam, so I got out, and went inside. There was nobody. No trace of him. I ran around that store looking for him, but I didn't find him. It was covered in dust, and there weren't even any footprints. There should have been footprints. So I ran outside, calling his name, but there was never any answer. It was like he had vanished. I got scared, and started running until it felt like my side was going to split in two. I passed a truckstop, but it was deserted and boarded up. I kept walking and before too long, I saw you stop." She fished out another cigarette out of her bag, and lit it with shaky hands.

He decided right then that she was nuttier than a fruitcake on Christmas Day, but he resisted the urge to dump her out on the side of road. He decided when he got to Mesa, he'd take her to police and let them deal with her. A woman wasn't going to hurt him. After all, he'd been raised with a Marine for a father. He kept silent, not wanting to make small talk. He just wanted to be in Mesa, and the sooner the better. He hoped she didn't have a gun in that bag. His thoughts started to drift off to better days, the car lulling him into drowsiness. He jerked awake as she started shrieking about something she saw in the window.

"Oh my God! Did you see that sign?" She caught his arm in a death grip, completely hysterical.

"What sign?" he asked, trying to shake her off.

"That sign we just passed. Did you see what it said?" Tears were streaming from her eyes and her skin was ashy and pale; even in the dark he could tell that she'd lost all coloring.

"It's just a road sign, Anna. They're all over the highway."

"No, you don't understand!"

He sighed, exhausted, and close to losing his temper with her. "There's nothing to worry about. It's just a sign. I didn't see it anyway, but I wasn't paying attention." He kept his eyes on the road, but he turned his bright lights on anyway, just to make sure he didn't miss anything else that might be vital to getting out of the desert. He saw a light twinkling off in the distance, but thought nothing of it.

"Richard," she said quietly and a little to calmly for his tastes. "That sign said Fredrickson, 10 miles. We've already passed Fredrickson New Mexico. And as far as I know, there is no Fredrickson Arizona."

He immediately slammed on the brakes, throwing them both forward in their seats. He could feel the panic bubbling up in his throat. The little amount of light coming from the dash made her face look eerie. He forced himself to speak calmly, even though he wanted to run as fast as he could in the opposite direction. This night started out badly, and it was just getting worse. It was like a bad dream he couldn't escape from. "What did you just say?"

"I said 'The sign said Fredrickson, 10 Miles'."

"That's impossible. We're at least 150 miles west of Fredrickson. And I know I didn't veer off and go in the opposite direction. I'm tired, but I'd remember something like that. Put your seatbelt on. We're getting out of this fucking desert, and if I get pulled over for speeding, I don't want another fine for you not wearing your seatbelt on top of it." He threw the car into drive, and sped off, 30 miles over the posted limit of 55. He wasn't going to deny, to himself at least, that what she'd said about being 10 miles outside of Fredrickson had struck some chord within him and scared him to death.

The closer the light in the distance came, the more he told himself that it was all just a bad joke. He was shaking by the time the Fredrickson city limit sign came into view. It would only be a few more miles before he was in the town proper. The streetlights cast a sick green glow over the car and Anna's face. He had slowed down the car to a crawl, looking in every dark window for any sign of life. He had been through this town once before, but there had been people, and lights on in the storefronts. Now the paint was peeling off the sides of buildings, and glass was broken, and the signs were all faded and covered in thick layers of dust. How could a town change so much in a matter of hours? he thought to himself. She pointed to something on the side of the street, another sign, only this one was an historical marker.

"Pull over. I want to see what it says." He did as she requested, and got out of the car. The both stared at the sign, the paint peeling in places that made some of it illegible. She put her hand in his, mostly out of fear. He reached out and wiped away the dust to get a better look at the sign. The garish light made it easy to read the words on the sign.

Fredrickson, New Mexico
1876-1954
The town of Fredrickson was prosperous for most of the beginning of the 20th century until a freak occurrence of nature wiped out all living inhabitants on June 21st, 1954. A thunderstorm of epic proportions blew in that afternoon, followed by a cyclone that killed the entire population of the town. No buildings were damaged during the storm, nor were any remains ever found. It was as if the town ceased to exist. The only proof anyone had ever been in Fredrickson are the buildings.

He noticed at the bottom the date the sign had been planted there; January 19th, 1984, by the New Mexico Historical Society. Thirty years after the inhabitants had disappeared. He thought it was strange that after 50 years nobody had reinhabited the town. The thought made the hair on the back of his neck prickle. He suddenly decided that standing in the middle of a deserted street in a ghost town wasn't the wisest idea. He pushed Anna around to the passenger side of the car, roughly pushing her in, and ran around to the driver's side. He got in and started the car up, barely pausing to put in drive and speed off again. All kinds of crazy thoughts started swirling in his head, but he refused to give voice to any of them. She did it instead.

"What's today?"

"June 20th."

"Not anymore it's not. It's after midnight, remember?"

"So? It doesn't mean anything. There's another explanation for all this, and I'm going to find out what it is." He didn't feel nearly as confident as he made himself sound, but skepticism and flat out disbelief was better than thinking the sign was true.

"I told you, I stopped here, right at that little store," she pointed out the window as the car sped by. "And I fell asleep for two minutes, and Adam was gone. Disappeared just like that! Where would he have gone in two minutes? There was nobody in that store, or anywhere around it. I checked!" Her voice started rising, uncontrollably. She was scared now, he could see it on her face.

"Okay, what if it's all true? What does that mean? I came through this town, almost the same time you did, and I stopped at a bar and grill two blocks back from that store, and I saw people! There were people in that bar! Where have they gone now?" he demanded. Her hands came up to her face, in slow motion, and understanding dawned on her pretty face. Tears filled her eyes again, from being thoroughly terrified.

"We got out of the car," she whispered.

"What does that have to do with anything?" he said, angrily. He was coming very close to losing his temper with her.

"We got out of our cars, and touched the ground. That makes us part of the town. We can never leave now. The town is evil, it was destroyed by evil! And every year, on the same night, it takes more victims."

"No! No, you're crazy. You got that? Thoroughly fucking crazy! And as soon as I get to a town that's populated, I'm leaving you in it!" He watched in the mirror as the ugly green lights got smaller. He refused to look at her or he would become as crazy as she was. Something in words rang true, even though he didn't want to believe it.

"Don't you get it, Richard? Don't you realize, this is the reason why you and I never saw another living soul coming out of Fredrickson? No other cars or anything on the road?"

"See, that's where you're wrong. There's a truckstop up the road, about 20 miles from this town, and there were people there. I got out there too."

"That can't be. I saw the truckstop, but it was deserted. Nothing there. It's part of this town too!"

"Shut up! How can I have seen people, and you didn't? Explain that one to me!" He felt like he was going insane. Nothing made sense anymore. Why didn't he just get on a plane and fly to Mesa, instead of driving? He would have made it there in no time. But he hated flying, and avoided it whenever possible, that's why he'd chosen to drive instead.

"I don't know! I don't know why I didn't see anybody and you did! But don't you see? If you didn't turn around, and I didn't turn around, why are we back in this town?"

"Just shut up, and let me think for one damned second, would you?" he screamed at her.

She was stunned into silence. He hadn't been paying attention to anything but her until that point, but he paused, hearing something the announcer said on the radio. He didn't know when the station got changed, or if it got changed, but it wasn't playing heavy metal anymore. It was playing golden oldies, the stuff his parents listened to when he was a kid. He kept driving, his hands clenched tightly to the wheel. He told himself that he was just sleeping, and he'd wake up any minute, and he'd be safe at home in his bed. But the more he told himself that, the more he knew it was a lie.

They passed the truckstop, this time boarded up and deserted, just as she'd claimed. It was madness. That was the only thing he could think. He glanced down at the radio dials and noticed the time on the little illuminated digital clock. 1:54. He stopped the car, pulling it onto the side of the road slowly. This couldn't be happening, it was all madness. He was lost in his own thoughts, when Anna grabbed his arm. He looked over at her, ready to yell at her again, but she wasn't looking at him. Her mouth had gone slack, her eyes full of terror. Slowly she raised her hand to point at something in front of the car, and he turned his head to see it.

It was a road sign that said Fredrickson, 10 Miles.

I'm Just One Big Fucked Up Mess

2008-07-27T09:01:00.002-05:00

This is going to be a post with lots of different things in it. So, sorry if seems like I'm rambling, cause I probably am.

I registered with an organization that helps people with disabilities find and keep employment. Hey, it's worth a shot right? Anyway, I was going through the application, and there were two questions of note. What is your disability and the other asked about other factors that might contribute. So, I sat down and thought about all the different diagnoses I have. Let's see, there's ADHD, dyslexia, dyscalculia, borderline personality disorder, social anxiety. And then there's the implied ones; Asperger's syndrome, obsessive compulsive personality disorder, avoidant personality disorder, dependent personality disorder. Seriously, the list goes on, but I think you have the idea. I am seriously one big fucked up mess. It's a wonder I'm not locked in a little padded room somewhere screaming "Master!" at the flies. Oh, sorry that was a flashback to the movie Dracula.

My birthday is coming up. In exactly three and a half days. I have noticed that the closer it gets to D-Day, the bitcher I get. I have become uber bitch lately. I called my mom yesterday, and she was joking (I think) and said, "So, didn't you tell me your birthday was Wednesday?" and I said, "You don't remember when my birthday is?" in an incredibly nasty tone of voice. She was supposed to come and get me and my sister yesterday, and she didn't show up at the appointed time, so I called her again.

Me: Are you coming over?
Her: I don't know.
Me (very pissy): Well you said you were coming at 2.
Her: Well, I can't get away.
Me: Well, you know what, just forget it! [slams phone down]

And that's not to mention the random acts of bitchiness I've committed here in the blogosphere. Vix, if you happen to be reading this, I apologize for the snarky pregnancy comment. And the one before that. It's me, not you. Really.

I had an odd dream last night. It involved my best friend, her husband, me, my younger sister, an odd hybrid of my first serious crush (who I've dreaming about a lot lately for some reason) and the BF (they look an awful lot alike), and some blond girl I don't know. Now, in my dreams lately, my brain has been confusing the BF for [we shall refer to him as] #1 Crush. It is eerie how much alike they look. Same hair color, same eye color, they both even have long hair. There's one very subtle difference between the two, and it's the way their eyes are set in their heads. The BF's are set deep in his face and close together, and #1 Crush's are set far apart on his face, and close to the surface. I don't know how to describe it. Anyway, moving right along.

Okay, the first part of the dream, I happened to be with my best friend. It seemed to be understood that she had split with her husband, and she was torn up about it. So, she convinced me to go with her to his house so she could make one last ditch effort to get back together with him. While all this is happening, I'm acutely aware of the fact that there is a girl that the #1 Crush/BF hybrid has met, and that he/they want to be with her, but because of me, he hasn't made a move. So, I'm standing on the sidewalk watching my best friend make a miserable fool out of herself to a man that doesn't want her, and I decided I would be gracious and let him go. I tell my best friend that I will see her later, and I go to find him. And I find him in a church, where the service is about to start, and I see The Girl at the front of the chapel, and him sitting a pew somewhere in the middle with my younger sister. Now, the fact that he's in a church is significant, because I used to go to church, when I was a teenager, and that's where I met #1 Crush. I'll have to tell you the story of what happened with him later, because boy is it a doozy. Back to the dream. I make my way up the center aisle, and make a beeline to this girl, and I tell her I need to talk her later. Then I make my way over him and my sister. Now, get a load of this conversation, cause it's a significant part of this dream.

Him: What'd you say to her?
Me: I just told her I needed to talk to her.
Him: You can use me if you want. (Referring to the fact that sometimes when I don't want to admit to something, I use other people as scapegoats.)
Me: No, I'm just going to give you to her, cause that's what you want, and I guess I'll just be alone for the rest of my life. [I start walking off]
Him: Okay. [Turns away from me, I stop and back up]
Me: [facing him] You never really wanted to be with me, did you?
Him: No, not really.
Me: Then why the hell did you say yes in the first place?
Him: [says something about previous relationships that ended horribly; don't really remember this part]
Me: [grabs his lips and squeezes them shut, and laughingly says] You are not allowed to talk anymore![Then I lean over and hug him]
Him: Sweetie, what are you doing?
Me: It's okay, I hug my friends.

Now, during the conversation, it's not spoken, but I seem to be aware of the fact that I don't really love him like a boyfriend, just an incredibly close friend. Like the same way I love my best friend. So I'm not angry. Nothing happens after this, cause I woke up, and it was 5:30, and I wanted a cigarette. I don't know what this means. I don't know if the person in my dreams is supposed to represent the BF, #1 Crush, or somebody totally different. I don't know if this is prophetic, metaphorical, or somthing in between. If it's prophetic, does it mean I'm going to be single again before too much longer? Maybe I shouldn't be worried about a dream, but it just made me feel very WTF when I woke up this morning.

Speaking of the BF, I think the poor guy's having a withdrawal again. He's been very quiet of late, not that I've been able to talk to him much anyway because of my shitty internet. I spend more time trying to connect to the internet than actually doing anything on the internet. But when I asked him Friday if he was okay, he didn't even respond to that.

Oh, fuck! I'm like totally forgetting the most important thing. I came on here Friday to tell you all about it, but because the internet was being a bitch, I didn't even bother. And it didn't even occur to me until now. It might be because I can't feel it anymore (YAY PERCOCET!) and therefore forgot all about it.

I broke my foot.

I Don't Believe In Fairy Tales

2008-07-24T02:57:00.000-05:00

There's no such thing as a soul mate. Sorry.

I cringe everytime I hear somebody talk about that one perfect person for them. First of all, there is no such thing as soulmates, "the one", whatever the fuck you want to call it. The fact of the matter is that there is any number of people you could be compatible with at any given time. Parts of your personality will mesh well with one person, and other parts with another person, etc. If there was only one person in your entire life that you were completely compatible with, there would be no such things as friends. And when you think about relationships that have progressed to the stage of marriage or something similar, compatibility takes a backseat to communication and problem solving skills. Soulmates are fun for movies and romance novels, not so practical in the real world.

Second of all, monogamy is not natural. It's an "evolutionary" response that has been bred into humans as a way to protect the family, home, and assets. And perpetuated by the Catholic church as "civilized", i.e. to separate Christians from heathens. Regardless of that fact, some people are more comfortable with monogamy, some people aren't. For me, it doesn't matter, I could be just as happy in a monogamous relationship as I could be in a poly relationship.

But I don't kid myself into thinking that there is some ideal person(s) just for me, who is going to magically put all the pieces into place. That's going to understand ever single nuanced thing about me. That is going to be so in sync with me, that it'll be hard to tell where I end and they begin. Puh-lease. Whenever I hear people talk about this ideal, because that's all it is, it makes me want to brain them repeatedly until they've come to their senses.

This is what makes a relationship: communication. If you can communicate with the other person, you're pretty much set. I do not have some list of qualifications that a person has to meet before I'll even consider dating them. I think that's shallow, and a great way to keep meeting the same pretentious assholes over and over. I have one, count 'em, UNO, deal breakers, and that's children. I don't want to be a parent, step-parent, or anything in between. And anything else, it can be solved with honest communication.

Seriously, in a world where women pride themselves on being independent and can think for themselves, why do they keep buying into this bullshit? One more thing, before I go. Something to chew on, ladies. Women outnumber men. So there's no fucking way that every one of us is going to get our very own special man. Oh, they didn't tell you that at Hallmark?

For The Love of Dog

2008-07-22T08:31:00.001-05:00

I've been having some strange dreams the past couple of nights. I've been dreaming about my dog, Stinky. Stinky died, of old age, around Christmas time. It was sad, but I knew it was coming, so it wasn't a shock when I got up in the morning, and she wasn't in bed with me. I found her on her favorite blanket in the living room, near the heater vent.

Now, dreaming about beloved lost pets isn't so weird in my opinion. No, what's weird about these dreams, is that I know she's gone, but I find her body and as soon as I touch her, she comes back to life. I've had this same dream on three different occasions in the last two nights. I wonder what it could mean.

Well, it looks like my stab at responsible adulthood is rapidly coming to an end. I am still jobless. So's my sister now. And in a week, if we don't have the rent paid, we're getting kicked out. I still haven't heard the end of it from my mother about the last one. "Well, it was a job, wasn't it?" Seriously, what has happened to the world? How did I get born into a family like mine?

Speaking of family, my sister and I went over to my parents' house for the first time since I moved on Sunday. I was there for 15 minutes before I was dying to go home. I kept asking my mom to take me home, and she kept saying, "I wish you'd stay." Oh, but anytime I want something, does she ever do it for me? Fuck no. The older I get, the more selfish and needy she gets. I don't know if she's trying to make up for the serious lack of whatever you want to call it when I was growing up. Attention, love, whatever. Either way, it's too fucking little too fucking late. Really, I'd love to have nothing more whatsoever to do with my family. They've never really given a shit about me beyond bitching about how much of an annoyance and a royal fuck up I am. So why should I give a shit about anything they want? I'll take their money if they want to give it to me, but I don't believe that means I owe them my undying devotion. Just because we share the same DNA doesn't mean shit to me. And this, ladies and gentlemen, is the reason why the population needs to be sterilized. Because I see the same thing being done by my other sister to her children that was done to us. The cycle is repeating itself, and pretty soon, there will three more fucked up children in this world.

Music, the Spice of Life

2008-07-20T22:45:00.002-05:00

I shamelessly stole this meme from Taoist Biker.

Here it is, the soundtrack to my life.

Opening credits - Float On by Modest Mouse. Don't let the peppiness fool you. Have you seen the video for this song? It's a little on the sinister side. Slaughtered sheep? Yeah, there's some happy thoughts for you.

Waking up - Shut Up! by Simple Plan. That's what I think every morning when I get woke up.

Average day - Time of the Season by the Zombies. Just a song I like, nothing real significant about it. Which is why I put it here.

First date - Can't think of anything for this one.

Falling in love - Mint Car by The Cure. This song captures the excitement and exuberance of a budding new romance.

Love scene - Head Over Feet by Alanis Morissette. This song has a special meaning to me. However, I prefer to keep that to myself.

Sex scene - Rev 22:20 by Puscifer. I soooo don't go for those sappy, "I wanna make lurv to you" songs. I much prefer the perverted ones like this song.

Fight scene - 24 by Jem. I've seen Ultra Violet waaaaaaay too many times.

Breaking up - You Can Sleep While I Drive by Melissa Etheridge. I have so many songs on my computer that are about lost love. I don't know why, but I've found sad songs to be more authentic, for lack of a better word. Out of all the songs I have to choose from, I picked this one, simply because I think everybody can relate to the wanting to do whatever it takes to get them to stay for another minute, another hour, another day, whatever it takes to get them to realize that they belong with you, and knowing that in the end it wouldn't matter anyway. It always hits me right in the heart when I hear this song.

Wedding scene - At Last by Etta James. This has always been one of my very favorite love songs. If I ever got married, this is what would play during the first dance.

Secret love - Vermilion, Part 2 by Slipknot. Just listen to it. I can't really describe why I think of unrequited love when I hear it.

Life's ok - Just What I Needed by The Cars. Another not really remarkable song I just like.

Mental breakdown - Paranoid by Type O Negative. This is a cover of Paranoid by Black Sabbath, but it's much darker and depressing. You gotta hear it. I'm not entirely sure the whole song is here, but who knows.

Driving - Passenger by Deftones f. Maynard James Keenan. The whole song makes me think about driving around in the middle of the night, stoned out of my gourd. Makes me wanna hop in my non existent car and go for a drive.

Learning a lesson - Like a Friend by Pulp. You're the last drink I never should have drunk/You are the body hidden in the trunk/You're the habit I can't seem to kick/You are my secrets on the front page every week/You're the car I never should have bought/You're the dream I never should have caught/You're the cut that makes me hide my face/You're the party that makes me feel my age. Heavy stuff man.

Deep thought - Mary Jane's Last Dance by Tom Petty. Every time I hear this song, I get restless, and wonder what it would be like to start my life over somewhere else.

Flashback to childhood - 1979 by Smashing Pumpkins. I wasn't born in 1979, but it sure takes me back to my teen years when I hear this song.

Partying - More, More, More by Andrea True.

Happy dance - I Wanna Be Sedated by The Ramones. This is the closest I get to dancing. It's kinda like flailing around, really.

Regretting - Old Habits Die Hard by Mick Jagger and Dave Stewart. Yeah, I know this is from the Alfie soundrack, but it seems apropos for something like this. After all, Alfie was about regrets too.

Long night alone - Last Day of Summer by The Cure. I really didn't want to repeat myself, but this song is pure sit alone in a corner crying, slit your wrists music.

Death Scene - In Loving Memory by Alter Bridge. I heard this song for the first time a week after my grandma died. I can't listen to this song and not think about death.

Closing credits - Vide Cor Meum by Patrick Cassidy, sung by Danielle di Niese and Bruno Lazzaretti. I love opera. Guess you'd have never guessed that about me, huh? This song, even though it's about death, seems perfect for the closing credits of a movie.

It's the End of the World As We Know It

2008-07-18T00:20:00.004-05:00

I have a bed buddy. He's warm and cuddly, and doesn't hog the covers. He doesn't whine and complain. He doesn't snore. He's quite nearly perfect. Except for the infernal scratching. Jackimo has allergies. And he's shedding them all over my bed. The poor thing has a bald spot on his ass from where he's scratched all his hair off. I have no idea what to do for him. He scratches and scratches and rubs and rolls around on the carpet until he's raw. Then goes back for more. Short of putting a satellite dish on his head, I don't know what to do for him.

Holy crap! Two nights in a row! Wow, what's the world coming to? Oh, yes, a very grisly end in about 4 years.

The other day I was doing my laundry at the laundromat across the street. While waiting for my stuff to dry, I was half assed paying attention to the television blathering on in the background. Then my ears pricked up when they mentioned December 21st, 2012. The apocalypse of the world is sort of a fascination to me. For those who may not know, or aren't inclined to care, December 21st, 2012 is the last day of the Mayan calendar. The doomsayers claim this is the end of the world. So, I started listening to what was being said. Apparently there's also some scientific evidence that the earth and the sun are going to perfectly align on the perigee-apogee line (I know that should mean something, but it's really fuzzy at the moment), and this will cause a catostrophic shift of the earth's axis, and a whole bunch of other crazy stuff.

Now, I'm not saying I actually believe this. There's been sooooo many "It's all gonna end!" prophecies out there. And Nostradamus didn't say anything about December 21st, 2012. It's just interesting to me. Idiots will believe anything. And so what if it does all end in four years? What can we do about it? Just bend over and kiss your ass goodbye, I guess. Which is what my dad tells me whenever a tornado hits, but that doesn't stop me from freaking out.

Just for the record, I feel I should point out that the above is just a distraction to keep myself from dwelling on the real issues. Those being that it has been 6 years, 2 months, and 13 days since I last got laid. Am I ever going to get laid again? I am truly pathetic.

Interlude

2008-07-17T03:13:00.001-05:00

This is not the glorious return I prophesied two weeks ago. We'll just call this a minor interlude. I'm bogarting somebody's unsecured wireless network. I got exceedingly lucky tonight because it normally kicks me off after a few minutes and won't reconnect for days. That's not long enough to post a blog.

So, cutting to the chase. The move went okay. To be honest, I feel kinda like Napoleon - in exile, awaiting the time when I'm finally allowed to go home. But only a small part of me wants to go back to my parents' house. The part that protested this entire thing from the beginning. The part that doesn't, nor has ever, wanted to be a "productive member of society" or "responsible adult". What can I say? Rebellion's in my blood. But on the other hand, aside from my uncle's stinky dog that my sister inherited, I'm having the time of my life not being under my mother's thumb. That alone makes paying bills and playing grown up worth it, I guess.

Last night, I was outside at 3 am, smoking a cigarette (lease says I can't smoke inside, and going outside at 3 am at my parents' house would have been a capitol offense) and one of the neighbors to the west of us, was outside. My sister and I live in a duplex. Our connecting neighbors are a middle aged woman and her live in lover, who are actually quite interesting to me. About three feet away, is two more duplexes, which house a buttload of Hispanic people. I've seen about three adult females, and about 2 dozen adult males over there. Well, one of the males was outside sitting in his Range Rover drinking a beer when I came outside. I had the dog with me, (his name is Jack, affectionately called by me Jackimo) and he was doing what dogs do outside, and this dude from next door got out of his car, and walked over to us. He started making small talk with me, and soon got around to asking me if I wanted a drink. I said no. So then he asks me if I want to fuck him. Only, he asked me in Spanish. I may be as white as the paint on my bedroom walls, but listening to my sister speak fluent Spanish for the last ten years, I've picked up quite a bit. Needless to say, I politely declined the offer and me and the dog went back inside rather abruptly. That will teach me to go outside at 3 am.

Remember me telling you about the job I had? Yeah, forget it. It turned out to be not kosher, if you catch my drift. When they called me and told me I had the job, they told me that it would be collecting donations for charity. Naturally, I thought it would be a noble thing to do. Long story short, these "charities" they were collecting money for, some of them were being investigated for fraud, and some of them didn't even exist. And the worst part was that the jerkoffs who ran the place (it was a third party organization that had been contracted out to do this) thought it was perfectly fine to call up little old ladies on Social Security, and lie and manipulate them to try to get as much money as possible from them. I may be a lot of things, but uncrupulous is not one of them. So, after two days and a nagging concscience, I quit. It pissed my mother off royally ("We'll see how well your morals pay the rent when you're homeless!") but at least I can live with myself.

Well, that's it on the updates. I'm alive, not so well. The next time the planets align and I actually manage to get online (or get my own internet connection) for longer than 2.5 seconds, I'll update again.

Cake or Death?

2008-07-02T13:30:00.000-05:00

I was watching Eddie Izzard's Dress To Kill last night on tha intertubes. You can see my favorite part above.

Okay, two pieces of news I must impart to you: First, I am moving Saturday. I do not have internet yet at my sister's house, so I'm going to be absent for a few weeks. Do not worry, I will be back. So, I suggest those of you who haven't already done so subscribe to my feed so you'll know when I make my glorious return.

Second, I got a job finally. I start Sunday. Yay for me!

Hello, My Name Is Poly

2008-06-26T03:47:00.002-05:00

When I was 18, I was involved in a threesome. It was me, my ex asshole, Shawn, and one of my friends. Back up - one of my friends that I was very attracted to. See, I've known all my life that I was bisexual. For a long time, I tried to deny it, but when you get caught staring at the popular girl's chest in gym class and word gets spread around the school that you're a big flaming homo, it's really hard to deny. However, I'm not much of a boob girl, I like asses more.

Anyway, back to the story. It was the first time I'd ever been with a girl, and it was obvious. I had no freaking clue what I was doing. And it didn't help when the asshole thought it was all about him and kept getting in between me and my friend. Seriously, I did not enjoy it. At one point, I got so pissed off that I got up and left the room. Which put an abrupt halt to the whole thing, because my friend wanted to be with me, not him.

I have not been with a woman since. My lack of ability and the fear of being made fun of because of it has kept me from going down that road. A few years ago, I developed feelings for a woman I know. Don't talk to her much anymore because of what happened. Let's just say that I felt like she was playing me. She knew I had feelings for her, but she told me she didn't want to get involved with anybody, but yet she called me baby, she'd say she loved me, etc. It left me really confused.

I was having a discussion the other day with the BF. I don't remember exactly what he said, but I remember thinking to myself that it was comments like that that made me wish I had a girlfriend. I have come to realize that I have needs that can't be filled by a man. Women have this way of relating to each other that, no matter how hard they try, men can't get on that same wavelength. No guy is ever going to empathize with me when the PMS monster has struck because no guy has ever had to deal with mind-numbing cramps, depression, rage, bloating, etc. once a month for thirty or so years. (And to the guys who may be reading this, just because you've put up with your wife/girlfriend's PMS does not mean you've dealt with it.) And as hard as he tries, and I love him for trying, he just doesn't understand some of my more irrational emotions. Such as the insecurity that crops up from time to time for no real reason.

When I was with Shawn, I met one of his friends. This guy developed feelings for me, and I found myself in turn incredibly infatuated with him. Shawn found out, and told me I had to choose. Him or the other guy. It was a painful situation. At the time, I struggled to come to terms with myself. I thought that it meant I didn't really love Shawn if I had feelings for somebody else. But at the same time, I couldn't choose. The being forced to choose hurt me deeply. I remember sitting them both down and telling them both to just forget I existed, because I couldn't choose, and they deserved better than that. Shawn wanted me to pick him, the other guy wanted me to pick him, and I just couldn't. (Forget for a moment what happened between me and Shawn, all that happened long after this.) I realize now, after much discussion, that that was my first foray into poly. I just didn't know there was a name for what I was feeling at the time.

I guess this is my long winded declaration that I am, surprisingly, poly. It's taken a lot of honest examination of myself and what I want to get to the point where I feel comfortable saying that. Because the way I feel runs contrary to what I've been taught was "right". Monogamy has been packaged and sold as de rigueur. By religon, by the government, by society. I felt that if I wanted a girlfriend, I had to choose. But during this little journey I've gone on, I remembered how it made me feel when I was forced to choose between Shawn and his friend. I ultimately chose Shawn, but I always wondered if I'd mad the right the right choice. And then, the other day, a thought occurred to me: wouldn't it be nice to not have to choose?

Suburbia Scares Me

2008-06-22T03:20:00.002-05:00

My mom and I went out Saturday morning to yard sales. We haven't done that in a long time. We hit up a couple in the richy-rich subdivisions on the west side of town. The houses were all the same. Same pukey beige color. Same box shape. The only way to tell them apart were the cars parked in the driveways. It was like the opening credits of Weeds.

I think the thing that scares me more than dying is becoming conventional. The whole time we were there, I kept repeating in my head 'Please, God, don't ever let me become like these people.' That's a pretty serious issue. I don't believe in God.

Happy Things

2008-06-18T06:55:00.002-05:00

Something unexpected happened to me the day before yesterday.

A few months ago, I got into a big fight with a male friend of mine. Long story short, he said some things that hurt my feelings, mainly about the BF, and how all I ever do is whine about how badly he treats me and that he didn't want to listen to it anymore. At the time, I was really angry and hurt, so what he said to me didn't register. After I calmed down, I realized he was right. And I go back through this blog, and I read it all here. The negativity. There's maybe two posts that aren't me whining about how my feelings got hurt. It made me realize that the reason why my friends have such a negative view of him is because I haven't said many positive things about my relationship. But I'll get back to that in a minute.

So, I was sitting on my bed, just watching some of my favorite shows because I no longer get Showtime on the television, and I got an instant message. It was from my friend. It was the third time this week that he'd sent me an IM, and I was very cool with him. After all, he was the one that said he didn't want to talk to me. So, a few minutes into this, "How are you?" "I'm fine," one and two word answer crap, he tells me that he's sorry. I actually choked on my gum. He told me he missed me, that I'm one of the few people that he can actually talk to and not feel like he has to dumb himself down. He said he wanted to put the fight behind us and be friends again.

I said okay. Truth is, I missed him too. Aside from the BF, he's about the only other person on the planet who doesn't find my extreme attachment to inanimate objects weird. Or the fact that when I get really excited about something I start bouncing up and down or skipping around the house. It's really nice having my friend again. He's like the brother I never had.

It's sunk in. It took a long time for me realize what exactly I was saying. I love ***** very much. But how can other people see that if the only thing I talk about regarding him is things I don't like? I have this lifelong bad habit of being incredibly cynical and negative. After the shit with the poly thing and the huge fucking fight I got into over it with one of my female friends (who by the way is still not speaking to me) I realized that that negativity has carried over into my relationship. So, I'd like to take the opportunity to try to rectify that and tell you about the good things.

He makes me laugh. Like to the point where I have tears streaming down my face. His sense of humor is a lot like mine. But he knows when to be serious too. I like that. That shows maturity to me.

It's easy to talk to him. Not just because he makes me laugh, but because he just gets me. We can talk for hours about seemingly nothing and learn so much about each other. And when I say things that aren't politically correct, he doesn't get offended like a lot of people do. In fact, he usually agrees with me. We're so much alike in so many ways that it's eerie.

He's there when it counts. Not only for me, but his friends and his family too. I can't count how many times he's listened to me when I was depressed and crying, just telling me it would all be okay and not to let it get to me. He's never once said I was or made me feel ridiculous for feeling the way I did. If anything, he apologizes for it, like it's his fault.

And on a totally superficial note, he's hot as hell. Blond hair, blue eyes, what's not to love?

The biggest thing is the way I feel when I spend time with him. As crazy as it may sound, I feel like I've found what I've been looking for all my life. This is totally cliche, but it really is like feeling like you're home. It's a wonderful, indescribable feeling.

Stinky Flower of Death!

2008-06-15T01:43:00.006-05:00

The above is what is commonly known as a corpse flower. It's scientific name is Amorphophallus titanum, which in Greek literally means gigantic misshappen penis. They are native to Sumatra. I want one of these things. They can get up to ten feet tall, and they smell like putrid, decaying flesh when they bloom, which can be up to 3 times in their 40 year lifespan. They're very rare. And quite the conversation piece too. Flower that smells like death? How goth.