It has come to my attention recently that I have had a couple of unexpected visitors here reading my public ramblings, and while I am flattered by your interest, I would like to make it clear that I shall not be apologizing for anything that I have written, am currently writing, or will ever write in the future. I write what I feel, and I keep it simple and honest. If anyone feels the need to read further into anything I post here, I applaud your imagination, but there is no hidden meaning or innuendo between the lines because I believe in being blunt and there isn't a whole lot that pisses me off more than beating around the proverbial bush.
I also don't appreciate this assumption that I cannot make mature decisions for myself, or that I would not be capable of dealing with the consequences. I have made questionable decisions in the past and have been hurt because of them, but if I could turn back time I wouldn't change a thing because I have grown and learned from every one. I have handled every situation maturely because I'm not a child anymore. Please, if anyone feels that they know what's best for me and want to tell me of any mistakes I may be making, come to me first. Sneaking around behind my back, especially in affairs that don't concern you, is high school stuff. Even I can recognize that it is immature, and apparently I'm just a "girl".
I will make the decisions I choose to make, I will interact with whomever I decide to befriend and I will be whoever the fuck I turn out to be because of that. I am in control.
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Happy Days
Today I have happier news to report than I have been of late. No whiny vagina post today, my friend! Unfortunately I cannot divulge the details because I made a promise (so this post may not make much sense), but I have had a spring in my step since I woke up this morning, regardless of the grey clouds and fat rain drops splashing on the windows. Maybe it's just sleep deprivation making me delusional (I'm going through another insomnia episode) but I'm pretty sure it's because I had my heart broken and then neatly mended last night. Good as new! As the gorgeous Marc Warren once said, "It's funny the things you think of with your shirt off..."*
I was having a bit of a rough night and Rachel suggested a hot shower and some hot chocolate to calm me down, but alas, I had no hot chocolate so I lit some candles and settled for a margarita and a bubble bath. Mmm... Anyway, I felt better almost instantly and had a bit of a think as I soaked and I realized something that should have been clear to me from the start: If I really want to know something, why don't I just ask? So I did. The results were unexpected but welcome. And I mean very welcome. So much so that I've been smiling non-stop all day. I didn't even let it bother me when Tracy insulted me. Again. (I don't think he means it, but for fuck's sake man, I will kill you)
Before I sign off, I'd like to take a moment to wish my daddy a very special, very happy Father's Day. I know he knows it already, but sometimes I forget to say thank you when I am grateful for the things he does for me and puts up with, and sometimes I forget to say "I love you" just because, but that doesn't make it any less true. I love my daddy. I couldn't have asked for anyone more patient, loving and kind in my life, especally with the shit I put him through. He really has given me all he could possibly give me, and then some, and I hope he knows how much I truly appreciate it.
And to my biological father, may he rest in peace: I'm sorry we never had the chance to meet, I hear some pretty cool things about you and I'm sure we would have gotten on well given the opportunity. I have a lot of questions I would have loved to ask you, and I hope you understood that I could never be mad at you for what you did in the past (even if I do think it was kind of shitty) because everything turned out for the best! You had your beautiful family and I have mine. I could almost thank you if it hadn't hurt my mother, but we're both over it now and very happy with the way everything turned out. RIP.
And finally, to all the fathers out there: Today is a day to celebrate all the love and happiness that you have brought to your family, so spend it with the ones you love. Happy Father's Day.
x
*Gold star to the first one to get that one ;)
I was having a bit of a rough night and Rachel suggested a hot shower and some hot chocolate to calm me down, but alas, I had no hot chocolate so I lit some candles and settled for a margarita and a bubble bath. Mmm... Anyway, I felt better almost instantly and had a bit of a think as I soaked and I realized something that should have been clear to me from the start: If I really want to know something, why don't I just ask? So I did. The results were unexpected but welcome. And I mean very welcome. So much so that I've been smiling non-stop all day. I didn't even let it bother me when Tracy insulted me. Again. (I don't think he means it, but for fuck's sake man, I will kill you)
Before I sign off, I'd like to take a moment to wish my daddy a very special, very happy Father's Day. I know he knows it already, but sometimes I forget to say thank you when I am grateful for the things he does for me and puts up with, and sometimes I forget to say "I love you" just because, but that doesn't make it any less true. I love my daddy. I couldn't have asked for anyone more patient, loving and kind in my life, especally with the shit I put him through. He really has given me all he could possibly give me, and then some, and I hope he knows how much I truly appreciate it.
And to my biological father, may he rest in peace: I'm sorry we never had the chance to meet, I hear some pretty cool things about you and I'm sure we would have gotten on well given the opportunity. I have a lot of questions I would have loved to ask you, and I hope you understood that I could never be mad at you for what you did in the past (even if I do think it was kind of shitty) because everything turned out for the best! You had your beautiful family and I have mine. I could almost thank you if it hadn't hurt my mother, but we're both over it now and very happy with the way everything turned out. RIP.
And finally, to all the fathers out there: Today is a day to celebrate all the love and happiness that you have brought to your family, so spend it with the ones you love. Happy Father's Day.
x
*Gold star to the first one to get that one ;)
Sunday, June 13, 2010
What a good boy, what a smart boy, what a strong boy"
*There's a reference in that there title. Ten points to he/she who gets it - no cheating!*
Contrary to popular belief, I do not, in fact, hate men. I quite like some of them, actually. As long as there are no romantic or sexual feelings involved, I sometimes even get on better with men than I do women because I am not easily offended by their sexist jokes (I make a few of them myself) and I know how to be one of the boys. My favorite boy at the moment is my good friend Eric. Eric is going to fix me, I just know it. Although there are some romantic feelings mixed in there (I want him to make the first move, I'd die if I tried and he shot me down), I see him as one of my best boy friends because I can tell him absolutely anything and he never judges or laughs at me. One night on the train home, I found myself telling him personal things that I'd done in the past that I've never told anyone before, and he sympathized and I knew it was going to be okay. We get on so well because we have a lot in common and we can just relax around each other. Also, he keeps me safe on those late night train rides home because he knows I can't say no to the weirdos that try and talk to me when all the sane people are safe in bed.
Recently he agreed to help me with some issues I've been having (read: Oh, every blog post so far?) by personally designing an exercise and diet program for me to follow that will allow me to lose between 15 and 20 lbs before my birthday. There's nothing particularly special about that deadline, I just think it works out nicely that this 8 week program will end around the same time as my birthday, so who knows, maybe I'll be able to wear a bikini that day and go to the beach! Anyway, I trust him completely with this task, he's probably the most qualified person I know who could do it, and I know he only has my best interests at heart. I really don't know what I did to deserve someone so kind and wonderful in my life.
On a less sappy, girly note, I'm excited to start this new program. Eric says it's going to seriously kick my ass, but the first two weeks will be the hardest, and after I get over that hump it will become more routine and easier to manage. He wants me to run up and down this hill though, and I'm really not sure I can do it. Running is one of those things I have never been able to do and never really want to anyway, like speaking German or driving a car. I have decided though, that if I can't manage the hill, I will just have to turn my early morning dog walks around the lake into early morning dog runs and see how that goes. I'm still going to end up with fucking shin splints though, so I may have to punch Eric... He wouldn't hit a girl back, would he?
Contrary to popular belief, I do not, in fact, hate men. I quite like some of them, actually. As long as there are no romantic or sexual feelings involved, I sometimes even get on better with men than I do women because I am not easily offended by their sexist jokes (I make a few of them myself) and I know how to be one of the boys. My favorite boy at the moment is my good friend Eric. Eric is going to fix me, I just know it. Although there are some romantic feelings mixed in there (I want him to make the first move, I'd die if I tried and he shot me down), I see him as one of my best boy friends because I can tell him absolutely anything and he never judges or laughs at me. One night on the train home, I found myself telling him personal things that I'd done in the past that I've never told anyone before, and he sympathized and I knew it was going to be okay. We get on so well because we have a lot in common and we can just relax around each other. Also, he keeps me safe on those late night train rides home because he knows I can't say no to the weirdos that try and talk to me when all the sane people are safe in bed.
Recently he agreed to help me with some issues I've been having (read: Oh, every blog post so far?) by personally designing an exercise and diet program for me to follow that will allow me to lose between 15 and 20 lbs before my birthday. There's nothing particularly special about that deadline, I just think it works out nicely that this 8 week program will end around the same time as my birthday, so who knows, maybe I'll be able to wear a bikini that day and go to the beach! Anyway, I trust him completely with this task, he's probably the most qualified person I know who could do it, and I know he only has my best interests at heart. I really don't know what I did to deserve someone so kind and wonderful in my life.
On a less sappy, girly note, I'm excited to start this new program. Eric says it's going to seriously kick my ass, but the first two weeks will be the hardest, and after I get over that hump it will become more routine and easier to manage. He wants me to run up and down this hill though, and I'm really not sure I can do it. Running is one of those things I have never been able to do and never really want to anyway, like speaking German or driving a car. I have decided though, that if I can't manage the hill, I will just have to turn my early morning dog walks around the lake into early morning dog runs and see how that goes. I'm still going to end up with fucking shin splints though, so I may have to punch Eric... He wouldn't hit a girl back, would he?
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Just Crazy Enough pt.2
6/1/10
Some days I can look back on 2010 so far and think, "Wow, I have grown so much! I knew I wanted this to be a year of change and exploration, and that's exactly what I got!" and other times, sitting on the train now, for example, I can look back in shame and cry about all the stupid shit I've done in the name of personal growth and exploration. I wanted to have all kinds of adventures, I wanted to take up any challenge thrown in my path, and I wanted to join in all the fun that everyone else seemed to be enjoying. Is that too much to ask of a single year? I got it, though. I got adventures and challenges and I have faced them with my head held high. Of course, I never expected to face the drama that came with them. I never was any good at planning ahead, considering the consequences or thinking before I acted.
On the rare occasions I do think about how my actions could affect myself or those around me, I tend to overestimate my ability to cope with the repercussions. My mantra seems to have unwittingly become "I'm a big girl now, I can take care of myself" and for the most part, I can. When I met the boy I gave my virginity to, I knew he wasn't good for me. He left is girlfriend to be my fuck buddy, even though I told him (and myself) that it was a rule of mine to never get involved with a man who would do that. What's to say he wouldn't turn around and do the same to me when he got bored? He totally did, by the way, which is why we are no longer together. Everyone told me it was a terrible idea, that he would get bored and leave once he had had his fill of me, but I told them I understood exactly what was going on and I would be able to walk away at any time. THAT'S SO NOT HOW IT HAPPENED! I had to go and be a "girl" and develop "feelings" which were quickly torn up and stomped on because he developed a "conscience". He's still adamant that that's not how it was, but I've forgiven him. It got messy for a while after the initial 'break-up' of sorts because I unleashed my crazy and made some stupid decisions, but we are back on friendly speaking terms, we just don't hang out nearly as much. Or fuck. We don't fuck anymore, which is probably what I miss the most.
Sex made me crazy.
Some days I can look back on 2010 so far and think, "Wow, I have grown so much! I knew I wanted this to be a year of change and exploration, and that's exactly what I got!" and other times, sitting on the train now, for example, I can look back in shame and cry about all the stupid shit I've done in the name of personal growth and exploration. I wanted to have all kinds of adventures, I wanted to take up any challenge thrown in my path, and I wanted to join in all the fun that everyone else seemed to be enjoying. Is that too much to ask of a single year? I got it, though. I got adventures and challenges and I have faced them with my head held high. Of course, I never expected to face the drama that came with them. I never was any good at planning ahead, considering the consequences or thinking before I acted.
On the rare occasions I do think about how my actions could affect myself or those around me, I tend to overestimate my ability to cope with the repercussions. My mantra seems to have unwittingly become "I'm a big girl now, I can take care of myself" and for the most part, I can. When I met the boy I gave my virginity to, I knew he wasn't good for me. He left is girlfriend to be my fuck buddy, even though I told him (and myself) that it was a rule of mine to never get involved with a man who would do that. What's to say he wouldn't turn around and do the same to me when he got bored? He totally did, by the way, which is why we are no longer together. Everyone told me it was a terrible idea, that he would get bored and leave once he had had his fill of me, but I told them I understood exactly what was going on and I would be able to walk away at any time. THAT'S SO NOT HOW IT HAPPENED! I had to go and be a "girl" and develop "feelings" which were quickly torn up and stomped on because he developed a "conscience". He's still adamant that that's not how it was, but I've forgiven him. It got messy for a while after the initial 'break-up' of sorts because I unleashed my crazy and made some stupid decisions, but we are back on friendly speaking terms, we just don't hang out nearly as much. Or fuck. We don't fuck anymore, which is probably what I miss the most.
Sex made me crazy.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Just Crazy Enough pt.1
This is the first installment of a series I hope to continue of the random shit that crosses my mind on the train ride home. I find myself alone on the train at least 5 days a week, a handful of which rides occur late at night, so I have a lot of time to poke through the crazy and form coherent sentences, which I then document as notes on my iPod. If I think they're coherent enough for public consumption, I'll post them up here.
I must warn you, Just Crazy Enough pt.1 starts the series off with a sort of grotesque bang, so those sensitive souls amongst you may want to just wait for the next installment.
5/29/10
I have a love/hate relationship with my vagina.I find myself both fascinated with and disgusted by it on almost a daily basis. There's just nothing sexy or even vaguely appealing about the vagina in general, and as a woman with little-to-no self esteem, I can honestly do without another unattractive feature on my body.
Both men and women around the world have tried to convince me of what a wonderful piece of art the vagina really is, but I am yet to see what could be so beautiful about that thing between my legs. To be honest, I'd love to see the delicate flower that it has been compared to, but I just don't. It's not that pretty, and in my experience it seems to bring nothing but drama! I fail to see where the fascination comes from, other than the curiosity of men who don't have their own to explore.
I find myself intrigued, however, because something so unappealing that manages to complicate so many things for me still has the power to also bring unspeakable pleasure. Of course, the pleasure is not always necessarily a welcome occurrence. Sometimes the desire for such pleasure just brings you back to my point about the drama and confusion. Maybe it's karma. I've done terrible things to my vagina in the name of "beauty". I have shaved, plucked, waxed and even sprayed myself with nasty chemicals because I hear that's what guys want. I hear they go crazy for that smooth feeling, but I don't know why I bother if no one knows what's down there. Two men have ever been allowed passage below my belt (and whom shall remain anonymous for privacy sake, though you know who you are), and have lived to tell the tale. I practically maimed the most vulnerable part of my body, and they both screwed me over in the end (no pun intended). Oh, vagina, you are a strange, impossible thing, and I (partially) blame you for my crazy.
I must warn you, Just Crazy Enough pt.1 starts the series off with a sort of grotesque bang, so those sensitive souls amongst you may want to just wait for the next installment.
5/29/10
I have a love/hate relationship with my vagina.I find myself both fascinated with and disgusted by it on almost a daily basis. There's just nothing sexy or even vaguely appealing about the vagina in general, and as a woman with little-to-no self esteem, I can honestly do without another unattractive feature on my body.
Both men and women around the world have tried to convince me of what a wonderful piece of art the vagina really is, but I am yet to see what could be so beautiful about that thing between my legs. To be honest, I'd love to see the delicate flower that it has been compared to, but I just don't. It's not that pretty, and in my experience it seems to bring nothing but drama! I fail to see where the fascination comes from, other than the curiosity of men who don't have their own to explore.
I find myself intrigued, however, because something so unappealing that manages to complicate so many things for me still has the power to also bring unspeakable pleasure. Of course, the pleasure is not always necessarily a welcome occurrence. Sometimes the desire for such pleasure just brings you back to my point about the drama and confusion. Maybe it's karma. I've done terrible things to my vagina in the name of "beauty". I have shaved, plucked, waxed and even sprayed myself with nasty chemicals because I hear that's what guys want. I hear they go crazy for that smooth feeling, but I don't know why I bother if no one knows what's down there. Two men have ever been allowed passage below my belt (and whom shall remain anonymous for privacy sake, though you know who you are), and have lived to tell the tale. I practically maimed the most vulnerable part of my body, and they both screwed me over in the end (no pun intended). Oh, vagina, you are a strange, impossible thing, and I (partially) blame you for my crazy.
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