Saturday, September 24, 2011
medical musings
Figured out how to hook the scanner up, though I need to figure out how to scan directly on my computer. I would upload all of it onto here, but hell that's what i have a fb for. Here I will type all my musings not someone else's. have to dig up more journals. For now....pain meds kicking in...sleep beckons
This is me....The real me...can you handle that
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Atlantis sank again
Nostalgic memories, dyslexic dreams, shattered to the utmost oblivion in days to come. Free your soul, speak your mind. If only it were that easy. If things spoken, were done. If things felt, were shown. But then again, if life were perfect would it be worth living?Winter creeps up and if memory serves, it is that which brought us together in the first place. Cold and alone we long for shelter, for something to thaw the tears frozen to our faces. For knitted warmth for our frostbitten hearts. hands reached out and grasped as we shared our dreams., goals, aspirations and life. All on the same wavelength we prayed for solace from the snow that so blinded us. Together we build a future, together we meld the past, together we destroy the bonds that we thought were permanent. And what have we to show for it? But fearful happiness and distant looks of solidarity.. Standing on your own two feet seems so much harder when you're alone. But our paths divided and we took the steps we did to build a better singular us. And as the sounds of those last goodbyes, those final footsteps recede into the forest of our minds, all I know to feel is loss. The spring brought growth and the summer brought the fevered end to what seemed like the most beautifully ironic and redundant relationship a group can perceive. Looking back on it, we smile for the strength we've shared in such a short time can not compare to any
we will find in the future. But as the leaves swirl their brightly colored symphony it's hard to wonder what if. What if things ended differently or didn't end at all and just progressed to a higher level. What if the fights, hardships and sadness hadn't been advertised to the world, but kept between our tightly knit friendship. What of our silent longings and wishes had been voiced instead of being churned in our old souls. What if we had never said goodbye and let life move over us instead of longing for yesterday gone by. As the air cools and the comfort of a warm sweater and friendship are needed. I look to you my friends, my associates and now just barely my acquaintances and wonder what it would be like if we had never forgotten to say; I need you now, I missed your sweet voice or more importantly if we had never forgotten the deep down, turmoiled and distinctly important meaning of the words I Love You
we will find in the future. But as the leaves swirl their brightly colored symphony it's hard to wonder what if. What if things ended differently or didn't end at all and just progressed to a higher level. What if the fights, hardships and sadness hadn't been advertised to the world, but kept between our tightly knit friendship. What of our silent longings and wishes had been voiced instead of being churned in our old souls. What if we had never said goodbye and let life move over us instead of longing for yesterday gone by. As the air cools and the comfort of a warm sweater and friendship are needed. I look to you my friends, my associates and now just barely my acquaintances and wonder what it would be like if we had never forgotten to say; I need you now, I missed your sweet voice or more importantly if we had never forgotten the deep down, turmoiled and distinctly important meaning of the words I Love You
Friday, September 16, 2011
September 16th
Five years ago today I was getting married (Well I had already gotten married, at this point int he evening we were realizing I had awful food poisoning)
Four years ago today my husband told me he wanted to sleep with other people (After we got back from a wonderful trip to Florida)
Three years ago today I found out I was pregnant with my amazing daughter ( And my husband took our son out of the doctors office and told me he was leaving me to go back to Washington...after asking if it was his of course)
Two years ago today I was apartment hunting to try and pick myself up from all that had brought me down
This year, I had forgotten all about the day till I got a Happy Anniversary text.....which was not amusing....I can't wait to throw my divorce party
Four years ago today my husband told me he wanted to sleep with other people (After we got back from a wonderful trip to Florida)
Three years ago today I found out I was pregnant with my amazing daughter ( And my husband took our son out of the doctors office and told me he was leaving me to go back to Washington...after asking if it was his of course)
Two years ago today I was apartment hunting to try and pick myself up from all that had brought me down
This year, I had forgotten all about the day till I got a Happy Anniversary text.....which was not amusing....I can't wait to throw my divorce party
Monday, September 12, 2011
Regression
A hug is waiting
At every open door
But it's not enough
To sooth the soul
Bending
To pick up the pieces
From the floor
Of my shattered heart
Longing to hear
The words
That only one soothing voice
Can provide
My ringing ears
Provide no comfort
To my aching head
And my bleeding heart
Body quivering
Needing to be held
In the strong arms
That she slept in
Soul screaming
Longing for a past
Shying away from a future
Locking herself
In a clear box
Of her regression
Junior Year HS
At every open door
But it's not enough
To sooth the soul
Bending
To pick up the pieces
From the floor
Of my shattered heart
Longing to hear
The words
That only one soothing voice
Can provide
My ringing ears
Provide no comfort
To my aching head
And my bleeding heart
Body quivering
Needing to be held
In the strong arms
That she slept in
Soul screaming
Longing for a past
Shying away from a future
Locking herself
In a clear box
Of her regression
Junior Year HS
Lost
Raindrops
Falling from
Starry skies
The man in the moon
Weeps for he has lost a child
A child
Who danced and played
In the pale moons
Great light
A child
Of joy and laughter
Sits huddled now
Beneath a willow tree
The man in the moon
Looks down
What's wrong there my child?
The child looks up
I am weary
And alone
The moon wistfully smiled
And with all its might
It shone
Brighter than before
Covering the boy in protection
As he slept the night away
Junior year of HS
Falling from
Starry skies
The man in the moon
Weeps for he has lost a child
A child
Who danced and played
In the pale moons
Great light
A child
Of joy and laughter
Sits huddled now
Beneath a willow tree
The man in the moon
Looks down
What's wrong there my child?
The child looks up
I am weary
And alone
The moon wistfully smiled
And with all its might
It shone
Brighter than before
Covering the boy in protection
As he slept the night away
Junior year of HS
Tender
Written Junior Year of High School-
What did it mean
to you
When I looked into
your beautiful eyes
What did you think
as you
Ran your warm hands
Across my face
What did you feel
when you
Pressed your soft lips
Against
Do I pale
in the shadow
Of her smile
Does my place
in your heart
Disappear when she's close
Are my worst fears
coming true
The strength to go on
comes from the head
Courage from the heart
But to move on
and lose my place
Isn't worth the risk
Is it?
What did it mean
to you
When I looked into
your beautiful eyes
What did you think
as you
Ran your warm hands
Across my face
What did you feel
when you
Pressed your soft lips
Against
Do I pale
in the shadow
Of her smile
Does my place
in your heart
Disappear when she's close
Are my worst fears
coming true
The strength to go on
comes from the head
Courage from the heart
But to move on
and lose my place
Isn't worth the risk
Is it?
Shattered
Written Junior Year-
Shattered Pieces
Of a Broken Mirror
Cover the Floor
With Memories
Huddled
In the Corner
In a Heap
Of Flesh and Cloth
Raindrops Fall
From Starry Eyes
Over the Pale Face
Of the Moon
Fingers Slither
Up a Spiderweb
Crack
In the Floor
Noises
Those of a Scared Child
Escape Furiously
Through Pursed Lips
Gazing Up
Over the Reflections
Of the
Broken Heart
A Smile
Creeps Upon her Face
Yet Inside
She is Still Empty
Being as it May
She Stands
Treading Carefully
A Narrow path
Being a Person
Of Love
And Compassion
She Stands Tall
Her Eyes
Reflecting Future
Her Heart
Clinging to the Past
Slowly to the Door
She Walks
Turning Back
For a Last Glance
By the Door
She Stands
Her Hand Lingering
On the Switch
With One Last Glance
And On Sad Smile
She flips the Switch
The Room Goes Dark
Her Past Fades
All That is Left
In the Light of Day
Is Her Future
Shattered Pieces
Of a Broken Mirror
Cover the Floor
With Memories
Huddled
In the Corner
In a Heap
Of Flesh and Cloth
Raindrops Fall
From Starry Eyes
Over the Pale Face
Of the Moon
Fingers Slither
Up a Spiderweb
Crack
In the Floor
Noises
Those of a Scared Child
Escape Furiously
Through Pursed Lips
Gazing Up
Over the Reflections
Of the
Broken Heart
A Smile
Creeps Upon her Face
Yet Inside
She is Still Empty
Being as it May
She Stands
Treading Carefully
A Narrow path
Being a Person
Of Love
And Compassion
She Stands Tall
Her Eyes
Reflecting Future
Her Heart
Clinging to the Past
Slowly to the Door
She Walks
Turning Back
For a Last Glance
By the Door
She Stands
Her Hand Lingering
On the Switch
With One Last Glance
And On Sad Smile
She flips the Switch
The Room Goes Dark
Her Past Fades
All That is Left
In the Light of Day
Is Her Future
Forgotten Birthday
Maybe written when I was 20 or 22; It would seem that way, from the content. And the fact that I still had my maiden name....
I realized sometime late last night that everyone forgot my birthday. Not that it means much now, But I realized how much it hurt; family and friends forgetting something important to me. Sure it's not 21 but it was important. And I guess what makes me sadder is that I don't, can't and never forget about any one's special days. A friend told me once that I feel so much and what people fear of me is my "presence" is strong while others are scared of their weak ones breaking. I wish for one day that I could look through someone else's eyes and see what they see when they look at me. But more so I'd like it for once, if you could look through my eyes and feel what I feel. Helpless to make all the emotion around me float around and no one take it in. Not realizing what it's like to feel with your entire essence and sneak in under the radar. Making people feel ; only to have them push you away when you get too close...To feel lost in a moment of utter unexpectedness and still believe that it's no ones business but your own...And to know that to many, celebrating birthdays is trivial but they bask in the happy radiance when theirs is remembered... That's why it is so hard to go on feeling so much...Only to be forgotten on a day you will never forget. On a day you will celebrate the joy of like others brought forth unto you....When they were born into this world. My birthday this year was forgotten...But it seems as of late; like I wasn't born at all.
*NOTE* This was totally written in a Molly Ringwald Sixteen Candles journal
I realized sometime late last night that everyone forgot my birthday. Not that it means much now, But I realized how much it hurt; family and friends forgetting something important to me. Sure it's not 21 but it was important. And I guess what makes me sadder is that I don't, can't and never forget about any one's special days. A friend told me once that I feel so much and what people fear of me is my "presence" is strong while others are scared of their weak ones breaking. I wish for one day that I could look through someone else's eyes and see what they see when they look at me. But more so I'd like it for once, if you could look through my eyes and feel what I feel. Helpless to make all the emotion around me float around and no one take it in. Not realizing what it's like to feel with your entire essence and sneak in under the radar. Making people feel ; only to have them push you away when you get too close...To feel lost in a moment of utter unexpectedness and still believe that it's no ones business but your own...And to know that to many, celebrating birthdays is trivial but they bask in the happy radiance when theirs is remembered... That's why it is so hard to go on feeling so much...Only to be forgotten on a day you will never forget. On a day you will celebrate the joy of like others brought forth unto you....When they were born into this world. My birthday this year was forgotten...But it seems as of late; like I wasn't born at all.
*NOTE* This was totally written in a Molly Ringwald Sixteen Candles journal
Sex.....Or something like It
I had to write a memoir for school. It started out as a book I had once begun but never finished. I had to edited it down length wise but I am posting the full version on here. Feel free to enjoy(and thanks to everyone who helped me get through tonight with some semblance of sanity)
Abstract
A lot
of people haven’t come to terms with their overt sexuality. I have not only
come to terms with it, I have explored it, studied it and most of all enjoyed
it. I have been straight, bi-sexual and gay. I have kissed boys, girls and the androgyny
in between. I was just a hopeless romantic in a search for acceptance and love
in a world of crazy. The past fifteen
years have been quite a rollercoaster in trying to find out who I am. I longed
to see myself not only as a person, but as a sexual creature the belonged in
this world. I haven’t quite come across a title that fits me just yet. But the
ride has been a fun one. Here is a glimpse into what I look back on fondly as,
my glory days.
Keywords: Love, Lust, Sexuality,
Romanticism, Pride
Sex…Or
Something like It
I
have never liked penises….Something always struck me as odd about them. Dangling
bits hung off of a perfectly sculpted male. It was just a means to seal the
deal. But they were never that important to me. In fact to an extent I want to
say I was scared of the notion of the penis. The mere thought of having one
penetrate me, brought me to tears. Not because I would have something skewering
my body, but the mere principle behind the fact. Anything with a penis has the
ability to penetrate you in the fullest and most complete form possible. They
are not just turning you into a shish-ka-bob in a moment of ecstasy; they are
piercing your heart, your soul and your intellect. Now don’t get me wrong, I
realize I may be one of the few still with the belief that there has to be some
sort of connection in order to have sex with someone. I am one that until
recently never had the experience of emotionless sex, and trust me it wasn’t
that good. However, I have never had a problem with giving a blow-job; in fact
I have had more bj partners than I have had sexual partners. There is something
about the control over their spirit. You have everything they bargain their
lives for and within your mouth, for you to do with what you please. In fact
the first time I took that control was on a whim. My boyfriend at the
time…Nimrod…was freaking out. It was my first experience with any kind of
depression, especially one with a bi-polar twist. He was fine one minute, then
trying to slit his wrists in the next. After a wrestling match in which his
hunting knife was thrown out the window, I flipped him and decided in that
second that the only way I was going to calm him down was to take what he had
left of his manhood into my own control. So I did….and trust me he calmed
down. Granted there wasn’t a time in the
relationship after that when I wasn’t on my knees once a day. The point I am
trying to make is, in that moment I felt like I had more control over the
outcome of the worldly ways than I had ever had before. Although I have pretty
much gotten over my fear of the penis, since control is all in the form of a warm
mouth. I still don’t really like them.
There
are far too many people, in this day and age, who don’t enjoy kissing. Now that
isn’t to say, that no one enjoys kissing, just far too many that don’t give
kissing as much credit as it deserves. There is nothing better than a kiss,
nice soft lips dancing with your own, just enough tongue and once it starts to
heat up, you get those butterflies in your stomach and your hands start to move
and it becomes the hottest make-out session that you have had since your first
one in high-school. A kiss is touching someone in the most chastely sexual ways
possible. Now granted there are people that do not know how to kiss….like the
first guy I ever kissed. We were on the playground. And it was four of us, two
girls and two guys. Unfortunately the one I wanted to kiss was busy exchanging
DNA with the other of the female persuasion. That left Chas….Chas was adorable,
taller than me, with an insanely fake Australian accent and for some reason
orange hair….not red orange…just orange. He smelled good and it was my first
kiss, so I thought what the hell let’s do this. What a mistake. My mouth was
bruised and sore from the fact that my esophagus was explored with a massive
protruding slimy tongue that would not let me breathe. Somehow his gum ended up
in my mouth. Talk about the worst kiss EVER.
Trust me there have been ones that rank just as badly. I mean come on now, a twenty -something guy
should know that the tongue stays in the mouth unless it is beckoned out.
Regardless, kissing is still one of the things I enjoy the most. I had the best
make-out partner once, and by partner I do mean we fooled around but those
times we were together, still get me all riled up. I met Tommy through a group
of friends, and we talked once in a while. We finally got the chance to hang
out and spent a good two hours making out on my girlfriend’s bed while she
slept beside us. To this day, no one compares to the way that Tommy could kiss.
I honestly think the mark of someone who knows what they are doing is someone
who can give you an orgasm by kissing you. I wonder what Tommy is up to nowadays;
all I know is that the girl that has him is incredibly lucky.
I
am a romantic; one might say a hopeless one at that. I dream of the moment
where a white horse will ride up to me with a carriage to take me away to a
land full of Prince Charming and flowers. In reality I know that, this could
never happen because the only prince charming’s in the world are gay. Now don’t
get me wrong, there are such things as nice guys in this world; but low and
behold they are no Prince Charming’s. They take you out and hold your chair for
you. They pick up the check and bring you flowers. Then within two weeks of
moving in with them, there they are in their boxers and unsightly dirty white
tube socks watching the game and asking you to bring them a beer. Besides, the
nice ones are so boring. Sure they may not turn into a pig when you end up
moving in with them, but they aren’t dominant in bed. They let you have all the
control until honestly you are the one reaching for the remote while they
diddle away under the covers and you make some noises just because you don’t
want to make them feel bad. Then there are the bad boys…those cocky assholes
that everyone wants. They know they are attractive, intelligent and good in bed
and that is the reason you like them. Because when you go out with them, you
know everyone is jealous. You imagine them in tight jeans and a leather jacket,
out of some sort of James Dean fantasy and you are instantly fulfilled.
Unfortunately in the end there is no romance, no flowers, no conversation and
no honesty. So where is the happy medium between the two? The nice, sweet, polite, bad boy who makes
you drools with lust AND keep those butterflies in your stomach. Where are the
prince charming’s? I know where they
are….they are the ones sitting across from you listening to you bitch about
those nice guys; and the ones wiping your tears when the bad ones hurt you.
Every girl has dated them once in high school….where they called themselves
actors, artists and poets…..Now in the 21st century, when all is accepted, they
call themselves homosexuals.
I
am not a fruit fly; a fruit fly is one of those girls at the clubs that buzz
around their gay boys trying to make them love her. A fag hag is a girl they
just love without reason. I have never wanted to be anything more than whom I
was, and until I found George I didn’t know I could have that. Now don’t get me
wrong, if it came down to it and he was straight, he would be one of the first
boys I had gone after but it isn’t like that. Most people get the whole gay
boy/bi girl relationship all wrong, and I know why. In fact I see a shining
example of it almost every day. It is those girls that dote so much on their
gay boys because they need the constant in their life. Having the affection of
a lover without the strings, the need to live with someone, the lack of self-esteem
to go and do anything but fuck someone. It is a relationship you don’t have to
build and fix. The boys who are involved cling to the girl because if they do,
then they don’t have to admit they hate themselves for being outside the
“norm”. Nobody can judge you if they don’t know you are a freak. The truth
about the gay/straight relationship is an enigma in itself. George and I
clicked when we first met, it just worked. We have gotten the comments and the
ridicule at points but it isn’t like that. I don’t have to pretend, and the
fact that there is no underlying sexual tension makes me not have to fake an interest
that isn’t there. He is the one that gabs with me late at night, brushes the
tears away and picks up the pieces. He is also the one who laughs at me, gets
wildly drunk and posted about on the net with me and who has never been anyone
but himself. Every girl should have a gay boy and they should cherish them for
everything that they are. Because you will never find a better person to love
and cherish than a best friend who just gets it.
My
closest friends tell me that I’m safe. No I don’t mean like I’m running from
something; or that I have stolen a base….I mean my personality is safe. I am
not judgmental and not accusatory, which is apparently the reason I get hit on
by a lot of straight girls. Now I have been with many a first timer, when it
comes to the female persuasion, and I enjoy every minute of it. The lust, the
experimentation and to be honest sex is just different when it is between two
women. I was told last night that I am safe, because I am nice. That is one of
my flaws. I’m safe so they can have control and try everything out; then run
home like nothing happened. They know I won’t come after them because it isn’t
my place to do so. Is it really a good thing to be safe? I mean I know inside
each and every one of us there is this vixen waiting to get out. Is it because
I look young, or because I am just too nice for my own good? Safe is a word you
want to hear to feel protected, it is not a word you want to hear all the time
in bed. Which leads to the question, do men think I am safe as well?
Bi-sexuality
in this day and age is something that is chic. It is “in” to love both sexes
and to experiment with everyone. Now the fact of the matter is that I honestly
believe you can love whom you want; regardless of age, sex, and so forth. I do
NOT believe in those who are self-loathing. Honestly what is the point of
bashing someone’s sexuality just because you do not approve of it? Is it
because you are too scared that the half-naked girl in the gym who brushed
against you got you a little wet, or is it because when you saw those two boys
kissing in a bar you found that your little friend took more attention than you
thought he would? Who cares what you want or who you want as long as you
appreciate yourself for it? It kills me that there are self-loathers out there.
Trust me, I have been around my share of straight, bi-sexual and gay people in
my life and there is nothing I can’t stand more than a self-loather. Don’t
pretend to be happy and such; then disparage “fags” just because you think it
will get you a laugh. Don’t pretend to like someone only to make fun of their
sexuality behind their back, even though last night it was you on your knees.
It is just a point of being proud and un-closeted…I mean honestly what is the
point of being hot and not exercising all the pleasure in the world because
your moral standards don’t work with your genetic profile? Trust me honey,
there are plenty of us out there behind you.
You
get a little something out of every relationship you are in; even if it is just
a short one. I am not talking about the gushy emotional stuff, that I am so
fond of. I mean something physical, a trophy if you wish that until you lose
it, or your new significant other throws it out, you have as a memento of the
past. Now I am a big fan of those little tokens of love, especially if they
were acquired during a passionate moment or two. My favorite token of affection
is the tee shirt. Specifically a tee shirt recently worn by the person you are
sleeping with. Their smell embedded into the fabric, the kind of thing you can
wrap your pillow in so you can sleep with them while getting through the heart
break. I am not being melodramatic, take Caleb for example. Now I met Caleb on
a trip down to Princeton to see a girlfriend of mine. Caleb was a friend of
hers that I met on these stone steps across from Princeton University. A
typical punk boy, red hair that was not natural and could have been spiked in a
Mohawk, but wasn’t, converse sneakers, ratty clothes and a gorgeous smile. He
was tall, gangly and wonderful, we talked, went behind the stores where I gave
him a blow job while he sat on an air conditioning unit…Very romantic eh?
Anyway, I was there for a few days, we hung out….no big deal. We continued to
talk after I left and about a week later he came to Queens for the weekend. He
had a briefcase type bag and one change of clothing. My god he was beautiful,
in that poetic young love type of way. I know if I had a third love it would
have been him. That night and I was so happy wrapped up in his scent. He had
his favorite shirt, an AFI black t-shirt, with “punk is dead” on the back. He
loved that shirt and he left it at my house with me and a kiss. I’ve never seen
him again, and though the shirt has been washed many a time…his scent still
lingers.
Everyone
has their awkward sexual moments. I have had my share of them through my
exploits. Now I was hoping to lose my virginity in that classic romantic way.
Candles, dinner, flowers, music….it had to be perfect, the moment, the mood and
the setting. I will never regret how or when I lost my virginity, even though
he isn’t in my life anymore, and in the end is the reason I have bad credit, I
will never regret whom I lost it to. Let me set the scene for you. I am a
junior in high school. I just finished the day and am going to my science
fiction club. I walk in and there is someone standing there, black trench coat,
black hair, black boots…he turns around and I am dazzled by this amazing smile.
He was the most perfect stereotypical Goth boy I had ever met. Jon kissed me
that day, soft and sweet on the mouth, and we exchanged numbers. He was
visiting from Jersey, and he had met everyone at a convention they had gone to.
We talked on the phone all of the time, for almost a year. I had just finished
my second month of senior year, my first love had moved away and I got a phone
call. It was Jon, we hadn’t spoken all summer and he decided it was high time
he came to see me again. He took the bus from Jersey, walked to my house in the
rain and kissed me. It was sweet and amazing and wonderful, of course it was, I
was a teenager. We dated and in March of that year, with my family out of town
Jon met me at my house. I had just gotten a CD signed by Aerosmith and I walked
in to soft music playing, candlelight dinner, a bath drawn for two….Sounds
perfect eh? We pulled out the couch bed and I told him I was ready…..Five
minutes later it was over….He was asleep and all I could think was, that’s it?
Everything I hoped for…and that was it? Painful and short….Someone should have let
me know ahead of time I was allergic to latex….
So
I don’t believe in one night stands. I mean honestly unless there is an instant
connection in some way that is other than sexual I don’t really get the point.
Now I used to be unjustified in saying this, because I had never had a one
night stand, but I decided to quell the interest and see what the whole thing
was about. You can’t judge something unless you try it right? So, as per most one
night stands I didn’t really see it coming at first. At a bar, with two of my
friends and towards the end of the night this beautiful man was ordering a beer
right by us. Now to give you a visual, he was at least six foot tall, and looked like Taye Diggs’
younger brother. You could tell from the way his black t-shirt hugged his body, that he
was as solid as a rock. So yes, there was a physical attraction, and he winked
at me. This took me by
surprise, but we started talking. We hit
it off and had so much in
common. He had lived in New York for a little while, during college.
He was here from Nigeria to make a life as an actor. For some reason
he had ended up in that
little Podunk bar in Norfolk Virginia. My friends and I went back to
his house; they stayed in
a room with a bed, a TV and the video cassette of the Jungle Book, while we
went into his room. Polite conversation, he stripped…and just as I figured, he
was a chiseled dark chocolate version of “David”. He ran around his room,
looking for his “Justin” and although it peaked my curiosity I sat there,
still fully dressed
wondering what the hell he was talking about. He flipped through a bunch of CD
cases murmuring off what they held in them “porn, porn, porn, house, porn,
house, house” and then triumphantly as a child who just learned how to ride a
bike for the first time he exclaimed “Justin Timberlake!!!” That was the crowning point of the
night; I may even go as
far as to say it was the climax of the night. Sex ensued and I entertained
myself by watching the
designs on his media player bounce along to the Justin Timberlake CD he had put in his lap top. He finished,
asked to keep my panties and I left…unsatisfied and unfulfilled. It makes a
great party story yes, but when I crawled into my bed at the end of the night I
knew I was founded in my belief that one night stands aren’t that
great….especially with a hard-core JT fan.
Do
you remember your first internet fling? I know everyone has had one, but how
many people do you know that actually remember what it was all about? I was
twelve or so and the first version of AOL was starting make ripples in the pond
that would become an empire. I was in a chat room with a friend of mine, and we
were talking to some guys most of whom were
being really annoying. There was one… I shall call Joey who just wouldn’t shut
up and then he started writing “Attention, I love Shea, attention” In big
letters across the screen. I was excited and enthralled, never had anyone let
alone a stranger pay me so much attention. The weekend ended, I went back home
where I didn’t have computer, but never forgot about that boy. Well a year
later, I get with the times and
randomly remember the screen name. He was still around!!! He was states and
states away but we talked a little bit online, only to have him disappear
soon after. This went on for years, until when I was 16 I got an email saying
that his family was moving to NY. He sent me an actual letter with a
picture and told me he would be in touch. A few months later, in the summer I
finally heard back
from him. Joey told me he had moved with his parents to Long
Island and wanted to meet me. With a wing and a prayer and some money
borrowed from my friends, I ditched summer school and hopped on the LIRR, to
Long Island. My first train trip by myself, meeting a boy I didn’t know at all, I have to chalk it up to teenage
frivolousness. Well, Joey met me at the train station and we spent the
afternoon cuddling and talking. It was wonderful, and bonus points for the fact
he wasn’t a serial killer. As the sun started to set, he dropped me at the
train and kissed me goodbye. It was sweet and sad and had emotion behind it I
had never felt before. I cried on the way home, but looked forward to seeing
him again. I got an email from him that night, he told me he was running away,
that he hated NY and only stuck around long enough to meet me. I never heard
from him again…I thought I found him once, I was in the other room and the TV
was blaring….I heard a voice that sounded like Joey, but I was disappointed…It
was only Snake, on the Simpsons.
I
guess I have had my most interesting relationships with the guys I have met
online. There was Mark, a little raver-boy that was to e-tarded to even make a
first move. There was Colin, who looked like a strange version of Jerry
Seinfeld and David Schwimmer, nice guy…..way too clingy. There was Kevin, my little 18 year old emo
actor who tried to have sex with me before we even kissed….while I was sleeping, but at least he looked good in
a leather jacket. Then we have the most tumultuous of internet relationships,
and the one I still have yet to be fully done with, Trip. We met online because
his profile stalked mine, on some random dating site I had just signed up for.
We exchanged emails and phone calls for nine months. He was nothing more than an incredible pen-pal and
friend. We decided to meet, and from there….well…I got pregnant, we got married
and lived in Virginia, where he was stationed. Talk about an amazing and fast
relationship, everything seemed perfect. He was one of those all-time good
guys. Enough attitude to make you swoon, enough affection to make you melt, but I came to find out, all a façade.
Now don’t get me wrong, Trip has taught me many things about life and myself
that I would have never learned otherwise.
(And) Currently it is one day at a time with us. I think that it will always
be, at least for our son’s sake. Mark my words, a note of caution when you find
prince charming online. As wonderful a friend as they are, sometimes they should
just stay that way. You never know what truly lies beneath the surface unless
you experience it firsthand.
On
that note, I don’t believe you can fall in love online. In lust yes, in desire
ok….in fact I think you can love someone you have met on the internet, but to
truly fall in love with someone you have to go about it the old fashioned way.
I have expressed my most
inner desires to those I have met online, told them things that I have never told anyone else, let
them see the real me, all of this
without having to meet them. Now I
think it is cute when you are online “dating” at least you know you are never
going to get bored when you have nothing
else to do. Who doesn’t love to see a sweet email when they hop online for the
first time each day?
Online dating has its benefits, you always have someone to talk to, someone that is far enough away
from the situation to give you advice. You always know that someone cares. Unfortunately they don’t know you; you can’t have that chemistry
if you have never looked into a person’s eyes. That is how they play you, you
don’t know if you are talking to a real person until you can look into their hearts.
Not to sound shallow; or
actually to sound very shallow physical attraction does play a part in a
relationship. You can have the most meaningful conversations and write the most
beautiful letter, but when
push comes to shove, there needs to be a spark. Take Angel for example; we knew each other in person; he was my best friend, and
amazing kisser and one of the sweetest guys in the world. There was no spark,
even though we tried to make it happen it didn’t. So some solid advice to those
out there, if you are
confiding your deepest darkest secrets to someone online, you may be better off confiding in your favorite pet. At
least, in the end you will have something real to snuggle with, that loves you
back.
Is
it true that you only get two great loves in your life? Or even one for that
matter? At 25 years old have I wasted both of my chances to have true love on
people that may not have deserved them? If
it is only two people are those people perfectly compatible for each other, or
does everyone always end up in a relationship where they love the other person just a little bit more. I
think about that, in every relationship I have been in it has always weighed
heavily one sided. Not saying that the other person didn’t have feelings, but
it seemed that their feelings never added up to mine. Then it was an endless
cycle of guilt and pity and you wondered what you were actually getting out of
the relationship. If we only have
two loves in our lives then I have filled mine and I will spend the rest of my days alone. Zachary was my
first love. I met him through a friend that I had met online, originally it was my plan to hook
up with her, but my body had different feelings. We met Zachary and by the end
of the night, after my first joint and our first kiss I had fallen. He was quiet and
sweet with a disconcerting want to wear my clothes, but it didn’t bother me. My boyfriend was prettier than I but that was ok by me. He
told me he loved me on the second night we knew each other, he took care of me
and I went in and out of the hospitals and then it was over. He moved, across
the country, and in the days pre-9-11 we
had a movie moment goodbye at the airport. We talked for a month or two but by
that point it was over. We were young and thought that maybe someday it would work out. Well
life is a bitch that way and every time we had the chance to see each other,
the kisses were still just as sweet and the butterflies were still there but it
never worked out, because I
was too good a friend to him in the long run. The other love of my life was Trip. He was my pen pal and
friend. He became so much more, and now deems to be so much less. Like I said,
in every relationship one loves someone that much more, and the most heartbreaking words to
hear are….well isn’t my love enough, because it is all I can give you.
Sometimes love just ain’t enough as the cliché goes and it leaves you yearning
for more. If you have already spent all of your love on two before it was your
time, then where is the ATM machine
that holds the reserves for your heart? If you only get two shots, then I am
fucked.
Friday, September 9, 2011
Done...Just fucking done
I want to know why it happens to me. No this isn't a poor fucking pity me rant, I am just really curious. Why everyone else comes before me. I buy, I shlep I make time, I visit, I take care of everyone but myself. My world is coming crashing down on me and I don't even really know why. My life is in shambles. There is no food in my fridge. I don't know when the food stamps will come in. The computer fucked my hard disk so bad that they have to send me a new one and i have to figure out how the fuck I am going to finish my school assignments. My house is a fucking hellhole and I don't feel fucking guilty about it. now I am angry, I am angry that I am too nice...that i do and do and do and put up with the numerous amounts of shit that i do just because i care. i honestly truly fucking care. Because if i didn't then maybe i would have done this a long time ago. But that's it. The people that are staying are family. You want to prove to me that you care, Im putting the fucking ball in your court. PROVE IT! I am tired of being walked all over. I am not a doormat for you to wipe your feet on. I am not someone you can fucking use when its convienent for you. That you make plans with and get my expectations up and then break them. Only to have me find out that someone else was more important. I have for too long been too fucking nice. Well I am done. I don't want phone calls yelling at me for being honest. I don't want poor me messages. You want to be part of my life. Fucking grow a set and be part of my life. because I can't think of a single one of you that I haven't broken my back for. I have been there for you when it was good for you. Well right now, it's no good for me anymore. And it breaks my heart and I know there are faces that I won't see again. But talk shit about me long enough, realize that I am a fucking person too. I have had it. Message me, text me, comment on this blog. But it going to be for all to see. I am done.
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Guilt (Written Today)
Guilt...profound, helpless,worthless guilt. A good friend(who no longer talks to me) once said, if you don't like the way something is going in your life then change it. Well i tried. I took the bull by the horns, and started going back to school. I was able to save and scrimp to take my kids on a vacation we have never had and at that point things were doing....Good. I want to say they were getting back into great. The boy and I working out our differences, the ex and I finally parting ways. And it was good, then I got fired. And with that came a whirlwind, cyclonic twister of shit that hasn't stopped. It's September the 7th 2011. I have nothing left on my food stamp card, I don't qualify for cash assistance because my child support payments are to high(going to the day care and for diapers for the littles), my WIC checks are out (which as long as the CAP office doesn't flood tomorrow we will have them renewed), I have drained every last penny out of my accounts to pay my rent (and had to borrow some and it STILL isn't all paid), I poured out my coin jar to cash in the measly 14 bucks with which went straight into rent. I finally got my meds back (which isn't helping that I haven't had them in 3 days, not that it would have made me any less upset). Guilty that I went away for the weekend and cost us money to take us home, guilty that I had to ask people for money, guilty that I got fired too early for unemployment, guilty that my newest job is part time and I havent started yet. Guilty that my boyfriend is working his fingers to the bone, but because of our car situation isn't doing all he can be (which is my fault because I have to get my appointments in during the weeks). Guilty that I feel like I maybe shouldve done vacation another year and used that money more wisely. Guilty that I couldn't put my foot down and demand payment for almost 6 months of sleeping on my couch. Guilty that I couldve taken more vitamins and given the kids more viatmins and been sick less so I could have worked more. Guilty that I left a good job in oreder to be closer to home only to have that all ripped away from me because apparantly i wasnt a good teacher. Guilty that now I am frantic about doing classwork and shutting everyone else out. Guilty that I don't believe it anymore when people say they want to help. Guilty for having to ask for help. Guilty that I can't provide for my family. And as the floodwaters rise my thoughts sink deeper into the muck and I don't even know which way is up. All this rain is making me panic, doubtful we will get any in our house(cept for the leak in the ceiling) but still panicing. Guilty that there are people I refuse to talk to and still had the audacity to ask for money. Guilty that I have had to borrow money for my fuck ups. lets see.....320 for rent....120 for electric....100 for cable....72 for car insurance....that is almost 600 dollars that I still need to put together before the 12th. Ive taken to selling things that mean things to me. I have half of my collectors things on ebay and craigslist, Ive tried to sell my comics to no avail. I wonder what it will take to make it through this mess but I really don't know. and Now I've had all of you read this. Because you keep wanting to know what is going on in my life. And all I've done is make you feel sorry for me....I didn't mean to, I was just being honest. Don't worry though, it's just another thing to feel guilty about.....
Sunday, September 4, 2011
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