Monday, February 28, 2005
Naked
Call me weird, but I have never in my life spent one thought on my hairy underarms. I am a rather hairy woman, unfortunately, and with rather dark hair everywhere, so a lot of my grooming time goes into taking care of that. Legs, feet, armpits, eyebrows, privates, chin... but my underarms? Yeah, they are very fuzzy... but the hair is soft, and unlike on any other body part of mine, it is of a very light color.
And nobody ever complained about them, or made any comment...
So the other day I am coming upon this passage in one of the books I am reading ("Secrets about Men every Woman should know"), that says that one of the major turn offs for the men that were interviewed for the book were unshaved underarms.
And, with all my usual depilation efforts, my underarms have never as much as occured to me.
So I stuck out my bare hairy underarms, walked up to The Fiancé, shoved them into his face, and asked if he was bothered by what he saw.
He gave me a puzzled look.
I guess that means no?
Either way, I Nair-ed my underarms today. Smooooooth... I didn't know I had that many freckles on my arms... and worst of all... I feel naked like a slug now... it's like the first time I shaved my legs 10 years ago all over again...
And just in case you wonder... the #1 turn-off for men is vaginal odor. This bit of useless trivia was brought to you by yours truly. Good night! :)
And nobody ever complained about them, or made any comment...
So the other day I am coming upon this passage in one of the books I am reading ("Secrets about Men every Woman should know"), that says that one of the major turn offs for the men that were interviewed for the book were unshaved underarms.
And, with all my usual depilation efforts, my underarms have never as much as occured to me.
So I stuck out my bare hairy underarms, walked up to The Fiancé, shoved them into his face, and asked if he was bothered by what he saw.
He gave me a puzzled look.
I guess that means no?
Either way, I Nair-ed my underarms today. Smooooooth... I didn't know I had that many freckles on my arms... and worst of all... I feel naked like a slug now... it's like the first time I shaved my legs 10 years ago all over again...
And just in case you wonder... the #1 turn-off for men is vaginal odor. This bit of useless trivia was brought to you by yours truly. Good night! :)
Meme
(Because I have work to do, and don't wanna. Snatched from Ren.)
BASICS
Your gender: female
Straight/gay/bi? bi
Single? nope
Want to be? famous musician
Your birthday: January 12, 1979
Your age: 26
Your height:freakishly tall 5'10"
The color of your eyes: steel-grey... steel-blue when pissed off, water-green when the sun shines into them. I have chameleon eyes.
The color of your hair: currently some shade of mahogany red/brown
Left/right/ambidextrous? right
Have any pets? my black beloved kitty cat, various aquatic critters, some fleas
What's your job: freelance graphic designer
Piercings? 7
Tattoos? nope. can't handle irreversibility and permanence like that
Obsessions? cleanness - impossible to achieve with three male roommates
Addictions? ColdStone Ice Cream
Do you speak another language? German, English, Spanish, French, Latin
Have a favorite quote? "Until you spread your wings you have no idea how far you can fly." Dunno who said it.
Do you have a webpage? d'uh!
DEEP THOUGHTS about life and you in it
Do you live in the moment? I wish I could say that. Mostly I am hung up with planning for the future.
Do you consider yourself tolerant of others? Not really. I get really impatient with ignorant and stupid and inconsiderate people. And bad drivers.
Do you have any secrets? Depends on who I am talking with. I have nothing to hide from The Fiancé.
Do you hate yourself? No. But I pity myself a lot, when I get depressed.
Do you like your handwriting? Yes. I have spent years developing it. Though I am so used to typing now that I get cramps in my hand rather fast from handwriting.
Do you have any bad habits? Let's see... I am lazy... I am pessimistic... I am controlling... and I like picking my nose.
What is the compliment you get most from people? I have the height of a model, they say. Which is obvious at 5'10". However, I have never heard that I have the looks of a model as well. Other than that I get complimented on my brains a lot. And my work.
If a movie was made about your life, what would it be called? Doomsday
What's your biggest fear? Death of loved ones, fire.
Can you sing? Just as well as I can throw a block of cement.
Are you a daredevil? I am starting to be now... yes. I never used to be. Always scared of everything. Nowadays I am more fond of risks and outrageous stuff.
Is there anything you fear or hate about yourself? My attacks of weakness. My height. My breasts. My nose. My negativity. Mostly my breasts, though. Donate to my boob job fund, willya.
Are you passive or aggressive? Mostly passive.
Have you got a journal? Ya looking at it, matey!
What is your greatest strength and weakness? Strength? I am realistic and down-to-earth with a strong will to succeed. Weakness? I defeat my greatest strength a lot with my own negativity.
How do you vent? I yell and scream and cry.
Do you think you are emotionally strong? I don't think so. I take everything to heart too much.
Is there anything you regret doing/not doing in life? Na... even the stuff I might regret is part of what made me who I am today... and I like who I am today. As far as stuff I haven't done in life goes... my life isn't over yet, I still have plenty of time to do what I wanna do.
Do you think life has been good so far? It has started to be good now... I didn't much like my teenage years. My childhood, however, was wonderful.
What is the most important lesson you've learned from life? Sometimes it pays off to take a great risk... and everything happens for a reason.
What do you like the most about your body? My eyes and mouth.
And least? My ass and my thighs.
Do you think you are good looking? I think I'm alright. Could be better. But could also be MUCH worse.
Are you confident? Always... when I am not depressed, that is.
What is the fictional character you're most like? C3PO
Do people know how you feel? I try to keep myself as unapproachable as possible. I allow rare glimpses, that's about it.
Are you perceived wrongly? Pretty much all the time. Maybe this has something to do with the answer to the last question? lol
DO YOU?
Smoke? No. I am very anti-smoke. Which makes me a huge hypocrite, because I smoke occasionally when I drink.
Do drugs? Yeah, I do the occasional pot, and yes, I love it, and no, I don't believe in pot being the beginning of a long and criminal drug addiction. On the contrary, I firmly believe it should be legalized, and alcohol of any sort should be outlawed.
Read the newspaper? No, news depress me.
Pray? Haaa-hahaha-hahaha-ha-ha-ha!
Go to church? I visit interesting churches in interesting places when I go sightseeing.
Talk to strangers who IM you? Not usually. I like the ignore button. However, there's been one or two who turned out to be really cool to chat with.
Sleep with stuffed animals? Hey! No name-calling The Fiancé! LOL!
Take walks in the rain? It's nice, sometimes. Annoying at other times.
Talk to people even though you hate them? I try to avoid it. And I'll be distant and formal.
Drive? Of course.
Like to drive fast? Not really... however... Roomie#R's car, which I am currently driving, seduces me to unreasonable driving speeds all too often...
WOULD OR HAVE YOU EVER?
Hurt yourself? As in... on purpose? Yeah. I have used scissors on my underarms before. Why? Don't ask. I don't even know myself. Or as in... accidentally? More like... who hasn't?
Been out of the country? Many, many times. I've been to: Italy, Germany, Switzerland, Hungary, Czechoslovakia, Bulgaria, Romania, Turkey, Greece, France, England, Scotland, Belgium, Spain, Portugal, and of course Austria and the USA. And probally a few others which I can't really think of, right now. Working on Mexico, and Costa Rica (- honeymoon!).
Been in love? Certainly.
Gone skinny dipping? Yes. On Corsica.
Had a medical emergency? Yeah... my appendix almost burst.
Had a surgery? See above.
Ran away from home? No. But thought about it many times... but then, which normal teenager hasn't?
Played strip poker? No, I don't know how to play poker. But I stripped! Does that count?
Gotten beaten up? Unfortunately. By an ex of mine.
Beaten someone up? Unfortunately. In Junior High. And I was grounded for it, too.
Been picked on? All the time. I had a horrible teenagehood.
Thought about suicide? Frequently. I try to keep it in check.
Pulled an all-nighter? I was a college student...
If yes, what is your record? I have no idea. Usually 2 days and one night are enough to knock me out for a whole week straight. Has nothing to do with getting older... I've always been wimpy that way. I need my beauty sleep. ;)
Gone one day without food? Yeah, on occasion... and when waiting for a paycheck...
Talked on the phone all night? All night? Probally not. All day... possibly. I can't remember. I am not fond of the phone much.
Slept all day? Oh hell ya... matter of fact... damn, I have work to do. :(
Made out with a stranger? Yeah... several times. There was some good stuff about being a teenager afterall.
Had sex with a stranger? Yeah. Not proud of it.
Thought you're going crazy? I thought I was born that way.
Kissed the same sex? Unfortunately... not yet. :(
Done anything sexual with the same sex? See above. Damn. I need to get me some t&a, and soon too. :(
Been betrayed? I wish I could answer with no, alas...
Had a dream that came true? Yeah. Freaky, huh? Now I wish for my dream of making it in the music scene to come true as well...
Broken the law? I smoke marijuana... I ran a couple of red lights... and I drove stoned once. Not proud of that either.
Met a famous person? Ummm... no, I don't think so?
Have you ever killed an animal by accident? I stepped on a few insects accidentally, I'm sure.
On purpose? Yeah, fuck you, mosquitoes!
Told a secret you swore you wouldn't tell? I am not sure. Can't remember what I did as a kid. Not lately though, no.
Stolen anything? No.
Been on radio/tv? I just had my first tv interview yesterday. :) And we've been on the radio with one of our songs last fall. :)
Been in a mosh-pit? A whut?
Had a nervous breakdown? I think so, yes.
Considered religious vocation? Haaa-hahaha-hahaha-ha-ha-ha!
Been criticized about your sexual performance? No. Complimented, though, many times.
Bungee jumped? No. I mostly like my life, and I am not ready yet to expose it to the possibility of a freak accident.
Had a dream that kept coming back? Yes.
CLOTHES and other fashion junk
Shoe brand? Whatever's cheap and fits and looks good.
Brand of clothing? Whatever's cheap and fits and looks good.
Cologne/perfume? Jil Sander Sun
What are you normally wearing to school/work? Clothes.
How about panties? Yes, panties too.
Wear hats? Occasionally. I have this really cool one that looks like it's made out of my cat's fur. People say I look like Britney Spears in it. However, you would never catch me alive with a baseball hat. I have some class.
Judge other people by their clothing? No... unless they are dirty and smelly and ragged.
Wear make-up? The second I leave the house.
Favourite place to shop? Bookstores. Sorry, no clothing stores to list here.
Favourite article of clothing? Jeans.
Are you trendy? I try to be, but not overly so.
Would you rather wear a uniform to school? I don't go to school.
BELIEFS
Believe in life on other planets? Of course.
Miracles? No.
Astrology? Crock of shit. But it's entertaining sometimes.
Magic? No.
God? No.
Satan? No.
Santa? No.
Ghosts? Most certainly.
Luck? Yes.
Love at first sight? No. Attraction at first sight, though.
Yin and Yang? Yes.
Witches? Yes. It's part of paganism.
Easter bunny? I used to! lol
Believe it's possible to remain faithful forever? Yes. It's a matter of character.
Believe there's a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow? You kidding me, right?
Do you wish on stars? I used to, as a kid.
DEEP THEOLOGICAL QUESTIONS
Do you believe in the traditional view of Heaven and Hell? No.
Do you think God has a gender? I don't think god has anything other than the power of peoples' delusions.
Do you think that science counteracts religion? Yes. Religion holds back Science.
Do you believe in organized religion? Not at all.
Where do you think we go when we die? Either into an urn, or into a grave. As far as our life force is concerned... I believe it'll be around forever, either reabsorbed into nature, or remanifested as what many would call a "ghost".
LOVE, and all that
Did you get frightened or uncomfortable seeing that as a section title? Yeah, totally. Peel me out from underneath my bed now, please.
Do you consider love a mistake? Love is never a mistake. However who we love, and how we love can be seen as a mistake sometimes.
What do you find romantic? I don't feel like writing an essay here right now. In short, however: romantic is what I don't have to ask for.
Turn-on? The Fiancé. Porn. Gay male porn. Women. Watching other people have sex. Self-confidence. Charm. Good smelling people. The Fiancé talking Spanish to me. The Fiancé fantasizing about dick with me. Ugh...
Turn-off? Bad attitude, arrogance, bad hygiene, uncut fingernails, long toenails, sandpaper-faces, socks, cutsey-talk, selfishness, guys who haven't seen a haircut for a while, wannabes, losers, short people, over-indulgence, etc.
First kiss? French kiss? I was 13, and he was the crush of every 13 year old in my school.
If you had no interest in dating someone who expressed interest in dating you, how would you feel? Flattered?
Do you prefer knowing someone before dating them? Uh... I usually get to know them during dating...
Have you ever wished it was more "socially acceptable" for a girl to ask a guy out? Oh... it's not?
Have you ever been romantically attracted to someone physically unattractive? Yeah.
Do you think the opposite sex finds you good looking? Most of them do.
What is best about the opposite sex? Their penises. No wait... I love being held close in the strong arms of a man, against his broad chest, breathing in his man-scent...
What is the worst thing about the opposite sex? They aren't women.
Do you read porn? Read it... watch it... do it myself. I LOVE porn.
What's the last present someone gave you? A kicking ass poster about basses and scales and all that nifty theoretical stuff that I don't know about.
Are you in love? Very, very much.
Do you consider your significant other hot? Dude! Waitresses trip over their own feet in order to get to our table first, and then forget about taking my orders...
What would you do if you were walking down the street and saw some hot guy/girl standing on the sidewalk? Think to myself: "wow, there's some hot guy/girl standing there on the sidewalk..."
RIGHT THIS MOMENT:
Are you going out? I have to leave to deliver a comp for a client in a bit... and then pick up The Fiancé from school and drive him over to his second job...
What are you wearing right now? Black sweat pants, a striped shirt.
Body-part you're touching right now: Hey... I know I spend a lot of time at the computer... but I don't consider the keyboard a body part of mine just yet...
What are you worried about right now? Getting this graphic comp done which I have to deliver in a bit...
What book are you reading? Douglas Adams - The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy; Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus; Barbara deAngelis - Secrets about Men every Woman should know;
Are you bored? Stressed out, more like it.
Are you tired? Always.
Are you talking to anyone online? No. I am working. No wait... I am typing this here thingy...
Are you talking to anyone on the phone? Not at this precise moment, no.
Are you lonely or content? Right now very content.
Are you listening to music? Not right now.
Oh no... are we done already? Back to real work then... :(
BASICS
Your gender: female
Straight/gay/bi? bi
Single? nope
Want to be? famous musician
Your birthday: January 12, 1979
Your age: 26
Your height:
The color of your eyes: steel-grey... steel-blue when pissed off, water-green when the sun shines into them. I have chameleon eyes.
The color of your hair: currently some shade of mahogany red/brown
Left/right/ambidextrous? right
Have any pets? my black beloved kitty cat, various aquatic critters, some fleas
What's your job: freelance graphic designer
Piercings? 7
Tattoos? nope. can't handle irreversibility and permanence like that
Obsessions? cleanness - impossible to achieve with three male roommates
Addictions? ColdStone Ice Cream
Do you speak another language? German, English, Spanish, French, Latin
Have a favorite quote? "Until you spread your wings you have no idea how far you can fly." Dunno who said it.
Do you have a webpage? d'uh!
DEEP THOUGHTS about life and you in it
Do you live in the moment? I wish I could say that. Mostly I am hung up with planning for the future.
Do you consider yourself tolerant of others? Not really. I get really impatient with ignorant and stupid and inconsiderate people. And bad drivers.
Do you have any secrets? Depends on who I am talking with. I have nothing to hide from The Fiancé.
Do you hate yourself? No. But I pity myself a lot, when I get depressed.
Do you like your handwriting? Yes. I have spent years developing it. Though I am so used to typing now that I get cramps in my hand rather fast from handwriting.
Do you have any bad habits? Let's see... I am lazy... I am pessimistic... I am controlling... and I like picking my nose.
What is the compliment you get most from people? I have the height of a model, they say. Which is obvious at 5'10". However, I have never heard that I have the looks of a model as well. Other than that I get complimented on my brains a lot. And my work.
If a movie was made about your life, what would it be called? Doomsday
What's your biggest fear? Death of loved ones, fire.
Can you sing? Just as well as I can throw a block of cement.
Are you a daredevil? I am starting to be now... yes. I never used to be. Always scared of everything. Nowadays I am more fond of risks and outrageous stuff.
Is there anything you fear or hate about yourself? My attacks of weakness. My height. My breasts. My nose. My negativity. Mostly my breasts, though. Donate to my boob job fund, willya.
Are you passive or aggressive? Mostly passive.
Have you got a journal? Ya looking at it, matey!
What is your greatest strength and weakness? Strength? I am realistic and down-to-earth with a strong will to succeed. Weakness? I defeat my greatest strength a lot with my own negativity.
How do you vent? I yell and scream and cry.
Do you think you are emotionally strong? I don't think so. I take everything to heart too much.
Is there anything you regret doing/not doing in life? Na... even the stuff I might regret is part of what made me who I am today... and I like who I am today. As far as stuff I haven't done in life goes... my life isn't over yet, I still have plenty of time to do what I wanna do.
Do you think life has been good so far? It has started to be good now... I didn't much like my teenage years. My childhood, however, was wonderful.
What is the most important lesson you've learned from life? Sometimes it pays off to take a great risk... and everything happens for a reason.
What do you like the most about your body? My eyes and mouth.
And least? My ass and my thighs.
Do you think you are good looking? I think I'm alright. Could be better. But could also be MUCH worse.
Are you confident? Always... when I am not depressed, that is.
What is the fictional character you're most like? C3PO
Do people know how you feel? I try to keep myself as unapproachable as possible. I allow rare glimpses, that's about it.
Are you perceived wrongly? Pretty much all the time. Maybe this has something to do with the answer to the last question? lol
DO YOU?
Smoke? No. I am very anti-smoke. Which makes me a huge hypocrite, because I smoke occasionally when I drink.
Do drugs? Yeah, I do the occasional pot, and yes, I love it, and no, I don't believe in pot being the beginning of a long and criminal drug addiction. On the contrary, I firmly believe it should be legalized, and alcohol of any sort should be outlawed.
Read the newspaper? No, news depress me.
Pray? Haaa-hahaha-hahaha-ha-ha-ha!
Go to church? I visit interesting churches in interesting places when I go sightseeing.
Talk to strangers who IM you? Not usually. I like the ignore button. However, there's been one or two who turned out to be really cool to chat with.
Sleep with stuffed animals? Hey! No name-calling The Fiancé! LOL!
Take walks in the rain? It's nice, sometimes. Annoying at other times.
Talk to people even though you hate them? I try to avoid it. And I'll be distant and formal.
Drive? Of course.
Like to drive fast? Not really... however... Roomie#R's car, which I am currently driving, seduces me to unreasonable driving speeds all too often...
WOULD OR HAVE YOU EVER?
Hurt yourself? As in... on purpose? Yeah. I have used scissors on my underarms before. Why? Don't ask. I don't even know myself. Or as in... accidentally? More like... who hasn't?
Been out of the country? Many, many times. I've been to: Italy, Germany, Switzerland, Hungary, Czechoslovakia, Bulgaria, Romania, Turkey, Greece, France, England, Scotland, Belgium, Spain, Portugal, and of course Austria and the USA. And probally a few others which I can't really think of, right now. Working on Mexico, and Costa Rica (- honeymoon!).
Been in love? Certainly.
Gone skinny dipping? Yes. On Corsica.
Had a medical emergency? Yeah... my appendix almost burst.
Had a surgery? See above.
Ran away from home? No. But thought about it many times... but then, which normal teenager hasn't?
Played strip poker? No, I don't know how to play poker. But I stripped! Does that count?
Gotten beaten up? Unfortunately. By an ex of mine.
Beaten someone up? Unfortunately. In Junior High. And I was grounded for it, too.
Been picked on? All the time. I had a horrible teenagehood.
Thought about suicide? Frequently. I try to keep it in check.
Pulled an all-nighter? I was a college student...
If yes, what is your record? I have no idea. Usually 2 days and one night are enough to knock me out for a whole week straight. Has nothing to do with getting older... I've always been wimpy that way. I need my beauty sleep. ;)
Gone one day without food? Yeah, on occasion... and when waiting for a paycheck...
Talked on the phone all night? All night? Probally not. All day... possibly. I can't remember. I am not fond of the phone much.
Slept all day? Oh hell ya... matter of fact... damn, I have work to do. :(
Made out with a stranger? Yeah... several times. There was some good stuff about being a teenager afterall.
Had sex with a stranger? Yeah. Not proud of it.
Thought you're going crazy? I thought I was born that way.
Kissed the same sex? Unfortunately... not yet. :(
Done anything sexual with the same sex? See above. Damn. I need to get me some t&a, and soon too. :(
Been betrayed? I wish I could answer with no, alas...
Had a dream that came true? Yeah. Freaky, huh? Now I wish for my dream of making it in the music scene to come true as well...
Broken the law? I smoke marijuana... I ran a couple of red lights... and I drove stoned once. Not proud of that either.
Met a famous person? Ummm... no, I don't think so?
Have you ever killed an animal by accident? I stepped on a few insects accidentally, I'm sure.
On purpose? Yeah, fuck you, mosquitoes!
Told a secret you swore you wouldn't tell? I am not sure. Can't remember what I did as a kid. Not lately though, no.
Stolen anything? No.
Been on radio/tv? I just had my first tv interview yesterday. :) And we've been on the radio with one of our songs last fall. :)
Been in a mosh-pit? A whut?
Had a nervous breakdown? I think so, yes.
Considered religious vocation? Haaa-hahaha-hahaha-ha-ha-ha!
Been criticized about your sexual performance? No. Complimented, though, many times.
Bungee jumped? No. I mostly like my life, and I am not ready yet to expose it to the possibility of a freak accident.
Had a dream that kept coming back? Yes.
CLOTHES and other fashion junk
Shoe brand? Whatever's cheap and fits and looks good.
Brand of clothing? Whatever's cheap and fits and looks good.
Cologne/perfume? Jil Sander Sun
What are you normally wearing to school/work? Clothes.
How about panties? Yes, panties too.
Wear hats? Occasionally. I have this really cool one that looks like it's made out of my cat's fur. People say I look like Britney Spears in it. However, you would never catch me alive with a baseball hat. I have some class.
Judge other people by their clothing? No... unless they are dirty and smelly and ragged.
Wear make-up? The second I leave the house.
Favourite place to shop? Bookstores. Sorry, no clothing stores to list here.
Favourite article of clothing? Jeans.
Are you trendy? I try to be, but not overly so.
Would you rather wear a uniform to school? I don't go to school.
BELIEFS
Believe in life on other planets? Of course.
Miracles? No.
Astrology? Crock of shit. But it's entertaining sometimes.
Magic? No.
God? No.
Satan? No.
Santa? No.
Ghosts? Most certainly.
Luck? Yes.
Love at first sight? No. Attraction at first sight, though.
Yin and Yang? Yes.
Witches? Yes. It's part of paganism.
Easter bunny? I used to! lol
Believe it's possible to remain faithful forever? Yes. It's a matter of character.
Believe there's a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow? You kidding me, right?
Do you wish on stars? I used to, as a kid.
DEEP THEOLOGICAL QUESTIONS
Do you believe in the traditional view of Heaven and Hell? No.
Do you think God has a gender? I don't think god has anything other than the power of peoples' delusions.
Do you think that science counteracts religion? Yes. Religion holds back Science.
Do you believe in organized religion? Not at all.
Where do you think we go when we die? Either into an urn, or into a grave. As far as our life force is concerned... I believe it'll be around forever, either reabsorbed into nature, or remanifested as what many would call a "ghost".
LOVE, and all that
Did you get frightened or uncomfortable seeing that as a section title? Yeah, totally. Peel me out from underneath my bed now, please.
Do you consider love a mistake? Love is never a mistake. However who we love, and how we love can be seen as a mistake sometimes.
What do you find romantic? I don't feel like writing an essay here right now. In short, however: romantic is what I don't have to ask for.
Turn-on? The Fiancé. Porn. Gay male porn. Women. Watching other people have sex. Self-confidence. Charm. Good smelling people. The Fiancé talking Spanish to me. The Fiancé fantasizing about dick with me. Ugh...
Turn-off? Bad attitude, arrogance, bad hygiene, uncut fingernails, long toenails, sandpaper-faces, socks, cutsey-talk, selfishness, guys who haven't seen a haircut for a while, wannabes, losers, short people, over-indulgence, etc.
First kiss? French kiss? I was 13, and he was the crush of every 13 year old in my school.
If you had no interest in dating someone who expressed interest in dating you, how would you feel? Flattered?
Do you prefer knowing someone before dating them? Uh... I usually get to know them during dating...
Have you ever wished it was more "socially acceptable" for a girl to ask a guy out? Oh... it's not?
Have you ever been romantically attracted to someone physically unattractive? Yeah.
Do you think the opposite sex finds you good looking? Most of them do.
What is best about the opposite sex? Their penises. No wait... I love being held close in the strong arms of a man, against his broad chest, breathing in his man-scent...
What is the worst thing about the opposite sex? They aren't women.
Do you read porn? Read it... watch it... do it myself. I LOVE porn.
What's the last present someone gave you? A kicking ass poster about basses and scales and all that nifty theoretical stuff that I don't know about.
Are you in love? Very, very much.
Do you consider your significant other hot? Dude! Waitresses trip over their own feet in order to get to our table first, and then forget about taking my orders...
What would you do if you were walking down the street and saw some hot guy/girl standing on the sidewalk? Think to myself: "wow, there's some hot guy/girl standing there on the sidewalk..."
RIGHT THIS MOMENT:
Are you going out? I have to leave to deliver a comp for a client in a bit... and then pick up The Fiancé from school and drive him over to his second job...
What are you wearing right now? Black sweat pants, a striped shirt.
Body-part you're touching right now: Hey... I know I spend a lot of time at the computer... but I don't consider the keyboard a body part of mine just yet...
What are you worried about right now? Getting this graphic comp done which I have to deliver in a bit...
What book are you reading? Douglas Adams - The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy; Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus; Barbara deAngelis - Secrets about Men every Woman should know;
Are you bored? Stressed out, more like it.
Are you tired? Always.
Are you talking to anyone online? No. I am working. No wait... I am typing this here thingy...
Are you talking to anyone on the phone? Not at this precise moment, no.
Are you lonely or content? Right now very content.
Are you listening to music? Not right now.
Oh no... are we done already? Back to real work then... :(
Sunday, February 27, 2005
The Fiancé has a tongue piercing...
...we make soft clicking noises now.
*falls over laughing*
But then again... you should hear the noises I am making now... it's an angel's Hallelujah... excuse me while I am off worshipping my finally-healed metal ring some more...
*falls over laughing*
But then again... you should hear the noises I am making now... it's an angel's Hallelujah... excuse me while I am off worshipping my finally-healed metal ring some more...
Saturday, February 26, 2005
Pregnant
Guess who is?
No, it is not me, let me take all suspense away right from the top, so I don't have you sitting there, nervously chewing on your nails until you are done reading this post.
So, guess who's pregnant?
I'll tell ya who's pregnant. Every-frickin-body around me is!!! What the hell? My baby cousin (- well, "baby" is to be understood with a sense of relativity here - she's 21 now) just got knocked up by some dude she knows for a mere few weeks - and I didn't even know that she broke up with her boyfriend of several years(!) and met someone else, I am so out of the loop. She wants to keep it, he wants to "make an honorable woman" out of her and marry her, she doesn't wanna get married just because she's having a baby... drama, drama, drama. Silly girl! Silly, silly girl. She's a lot smarter than her surroundings and circumstances would ever have supported her to be when she was growing up, and now that she's finally supporting herself, she played with the thought of going back to school and becoming a nurse, like my sister. But... no self-confidence! She defeated herself before she even tried to get in, by telling herself she's too stupid to ever make it in the first place, when I know she probably is very capable of making it, with a little effort. And now she's knocked up by some stranger. Kiss her possibilities and potential good bye. She'll end up just like she is right now: working some minimum-wage dead-end job sans opportunities for improvement for the rest of her life - or she'll give up work altogether to become a stay-at-home mom and a burden to society, just like the majority of the rest of the family.
And then there's my dad's best friend's wife. They just announced her second pregnancy. Total different situation. He's got a master's degree and his Ph.D. in physics, she has a master's degree on her own. They own a beautiful and big appartment, and he alone makes more money in a day than The Fiancé and I combined would make in an entire month. They are married for 3 or 4 years, they already have a toddler in the house. Perfect circumstances, no? NO. Both of them are incapable of child-rearing, and they should be forbidden to procreate any more. Smart people as they are, well-educated, and sophisticated, they are completely delusional when it comes to their kid, to the point where it makes you wanna walk out of the house when you see the way they are handling him, because you can't take it anymore. They follow some sort of "philosophy" according to which the child is supposed to grow up without having to know the meaning of "no", and with no restrictions whatsoever. He need not eat at regular meal times, he need not eat what he doesn't want to eat, he is allowed generous sips of his parents' beer for dinner, he need not go to bed at night if he doesn't want to, he need not sleep in his own bed, he need not clean up after himself, and if he wants to play with the microwave and electrocute himself, or reach for the hot stove and burn himself, that's okay too... because he shall learn by making his own mistakes.
Which was - in some weird and twisted way - tolerable up until the point when Mom had to rejoin the work forces after about two years, and all of a sudden a regular rhythm was required. Kiddo throws tantrums now if they try to put him to sleep anytime before midnight (when both of them are already so wired that they wanna go to bed around 9), and naturally he has problems getting out of bed when they have to in order to go to work. Also of course... now that he's old and big enough to get into all kinds of things, the "don't say no" philosophy proves itself for the crock of shit that it is, for now he turns their house upside down and puts himself in dangerous situations, and they have no power over him whatsoever. And he's only 2 1/2 years old! Rejoyceth, for one day he will be a teenager... LOL! Not to say that each and every single person around them who observed their "methods" told them so... but we told them so.
And now she's pregnant again. At this point, I am not sure if I should be happy for them, or heartily laugh at them.
At any rate - both of them have one thing in common: they'll have a baby soon. And what that thought does to me - a woman in her mid-twenties who has a serious and hardly suppressed hormonal itch to procreate myself - is horrible in my current situation. Now that there is so much stuff going on with my band and it feels like we are moving on, and moving on fast, and we see some serious possibilities out there, and I have finally managed to cancel all thoughts of cuddly and sweet babies out of my mind and focus on what's important right now, there come these two with their big news, and fuck my brain over all over again.
Why does everything in my life have to be such a tormenting decision? To stay and spend a good amount of my fertile years in trying to make a dream come true, or to go back home, get married, and have the baby that I want so bad? And of course - one thing is incompatible with the other. And the decision will have to be made soon... soon as in: the next 3 months. Mostly for legal bureaucratic issues, that is.
Ah, well. Congrats to the two future mommies.
No, it is not me, let me take all suspense away right from the top, so I don't have you sitting there, nervously chewing on your nails until you are done reading this post.
So, guess who's pregnant?
I'll tell ya who's pregnant. Every-frickin-body around me is!!! What the hell? My baby cousin (- well, "baby" is to be understood with a sense of relativity here - she's 21 now) just got knocked up by some dude she knows for a mere few weeks - and I didn't even know that she broke up with her boyfriend of several years(!) and met someone else, I am so out of the loop. She wants to keep it, he wants to "make an honorable woman" out of her and marry her, she doesn't wanna get married just because she's having a baby... drama, drama, drama. Silly girl! Silly, silly girl. She's a lot smarter than her surroundings and circumstances would ever have supported her to be when she was growing up, and now that she's finally supporting herself, she played with the thought of going back to school and becoming a nurse, like my sister. But... no self-confidence! She defeated herself before she even tried to get in, by telling herself she's too stupid to ever make it in the first place, when I know she probably is very capable of making it, with a little effort. And now she's knocked up by some stranger. Kiss her possibilities and potential good bye. She'll end up just like she is right now: working some minimum-wage dead-end job sans opportunities for improvement for the rest of her life - or she'll give up work altogether to become a stay-at-home mom and a burden to society, just like the majority of the rest of the family.
And then there's my dad's best friend's wife. They just announced her second pregnancy. Total different situation. He's got a master's degree and his Ph.D. in physics, she has a master's degree on her own. They own a beautiful and big appartment, and he alone makes more money in a day than The Fiancé and I combined would make in an entire month. They are married for 3 or 4 years, they already have a toddler in the house. Perfect circumstances, no? NO. Both of them are incapable of child-rearing, and they should be forbidden to procreate any more. Smart people as they are, well-educated, and sophisticated, they are completely delusional when it comes to their kid, to the point where it makes you wanna walk out of the house when you see the way they are handling him, because you can't take it anymore. They follow some sort of "philosophy" according to which the child is supposed to grow up without having to know the meaning of "no", and with no restrictions whatsoever. He need not eat at regular meal times, he need not eat what he doesn't want to eat, he is allowed generous sips of his parents' beer for dinner, he need not go to bed at night if he doesn't want to, he need not sleep in his own bed, he need not clean up after himself, and if he wants to play with the microwave and electrocute himself, or reach for the hot stove and burn himself, that's okay too... because he shall learn by making his own mistakes.
Which was - in some weird and twisted way - tolerable up until the point when Mom had to rejoin the work forces after about two years, and all of a sudden a regular rhythm was required. Kiddo throws tantrums now if they try to put him to sleep anytime before midnight (when both of them are already so wired that they wanna go to bed around 9), and naturally he has problems getting out of bed when they have to in order to go to work. Also of course... now that he's old and big enough to get into all kinds of things, the "don't say no" philosophy proves itself for the crock of shit that it is, for now he turns their house upside down and puts himself in dangerous situations, and they have no power over him whatsoever. And he's only 2 1/2 years old! Rejoyceth, for one day he will be a teenager... LOL! Not to say that each and every single person around them who observed their "methods" told them so... but we told them so.
And now she's pregnant again. At this point, I am not sure if I should be happy for them, or heartily laugh at them.
At any rate - both of them have one thing in common: they'll have a baby soon. And what that thought does to me - a woman in her mid-twenties who has a serious and hardly suppressed hormonal itch to procreate myself - is horrible in my current situation. Now that there is so much stuff going on with my band and it feels like we are moving on, and moving on fast, and we see some serious possibilities out there, and I have finally managed to cancel all thoughts of cuddly and sweet babies out of my mind and focus on what's important right now, there come these two with their big news, and fuck my brain over all over again.
Why does everything in my life have to be such a tormenting decision? To stay and spend a good amount of my fertile years in trying to make a dream come true, or to go back home, get married, and have the baby that I want so bad? And of course - one thing is incompatible with the other. And the decision will have to be made soon... soon as in: the next 3 months. Mostly for legal bureaucratic issues, that is.
Ah, well. Congrats to the two future mommies.
Thursday, February 24, 2005
Still here!
Yes, I've been a bit quiet. The reason? None in particular. Just not that much to say, I suppose... especially since Jo's absence at our last gig pretty much took all wind out of my sails - again.
I still have her voice mail to listen to though... but even that I do less and less. It hurts, and I don't want to expose myself to that, and on top of that I don't really want to admit to the pain it causes either... cause that would mean I would have to admit to just how deeply she's got me, and furthermore that would mean I'd have to admit to how stupid it is to fall for a person completely unknown to me, and dragging that crush on and on and on beyond any reason and rationale.
So... all you pretty women out there between 23 and 30 and above 5'8" tall living in the Los Angeles area and having no problem with my fiancé and my committment to our life and love together... come to mamma. ;)
It also didn't help my enthusiasm to write here, that I had to emotionally deal with something my little sister dished out to me the other day. You see... if you want to understand me and about half of the issues I am dragging around with myself, you'll have to understand my partially dysfunctional relationship I have with my sister.
No, I love my sister, really. A whole lot in fact - and especially since she stopped being a puberty-ridden problematic teenager a few years ago, she and I have developed a really close friendship, and at least on my part she's closer to me than many people I call my close friends.
However... ever since I can remember I have felt inferior to my sister, despite the fact of me being older. For many reasons... but what it comes down to is that I can't remember one thing in my life that I could have for myself - me, myself, and I - without her interfering, or taking those same things special to me and making them her own. Let me give you a few examples: fighting for allowance. Oh boy, and how did I fight for allowance. I wasn't allowed any money for a long time based on reasons of "age", and the immaturity that comes along with it. Finally I got some... a little... I was so happy, I was so proud... until I found out that at the same time my little sister started to get allowance as well, to make it "just" - and suddenly age and immaturity didn't seem to matter anymore. Or: housekeys. I wasn't allowed keys to my parents place as a kid for much the same reasons I wasn't given any allowance. I was just a kid afterall... I could lose them, or whatnot. Finally... finally... I was given a set of housekeys. I felt so gifted, they were so precious to me - until I turned around and saw a set handed to my little sister as well. Puny little stuff - big sister syndrome - I know, I know. But in such a manner it went on, and on, and on through the years. Heck! I couldn't even have a broken arm all for myself - she broke hers at almost the exact same time, same arm, same injury (- I fell off my bike, and she ran into a wall during gym class) - and we were walking around with identical casts for about 6 weeks, known everywhere with a smirk on peoples' faces as the "cast twins".
And of course, she's always been cooler. Prettier, more popular, funnier, more outgoing, with all the cool friends and all the cool places to go, more daring and adventurous than me, and with guys flocking around her at any given moment. Me? I pretended not to care, continued working on my straight As in high school, my University "career", and my conventional cookie-cutter relationship with one and the same guy for 3 1/2 years. Never went to parties, never went out, never had any guy lusting after me, never had many friends, hiding my disfiguring acne behind buckets of useless paint in my face, making myself as invisible as possible to people by creating as big a likeness as possible to a grey little mouse.
Then: sudden change. I moved to the United States in pretty much the spur of a moment. What a big deal! What an outrage! If I looked for uniqueness in my family, I sure found it now. No one in my family ever left the country, no one ever gave up everything they were doing in order to follow a dream, and I knew it was something my sister wouldn't even dream of doing. I was sure to ensure my place in family history with such blatant boldness! And all went well... so well. Boy, was I unique, and boy, did I get attention. That is - until my sister decided to come visit me, fell in love with one of my best friends, made MY friends HER friends, and is periodically hanging around in MY world, in MY country, with MY people ever since. She took my world, the world I worked so hard for to claim for my own and to keep family intruders out of, and made it her own.
Now I can see how you might think I am overreacting, and how I should be glad having her here so relatively often when usually I don't get to see my family a whole lot - but try being me for an instant, and you'll understand.
But anway... that's how things happened, that's how things are, and it's all water under the bridge now.
I still have the most unique thing about myself to myself. The uniqueness I am reveling in, the uniqueness I am still tentatively exploring, the uniqueness so precious and special to me that I am hesitant sharing it with less open-minded people yet.
I am a bisexual!
How friggin' unique is that?
Well, maybe not all that, but in my family surely more unique than a purple-specked carnivorous pig singing La Cucaracha under a hot shower.
Or so I thought. Or what??? You can probally tell that I wasn't pleased when my sister revealed to me that one of her coworkers outed herself to her as a bisexual, and her comment to that being that this was "very interesting". Now I am aware that "very interesting" doesn't have to mean a damn thing, but of course a thousand little alarm bells were ringing in my head at this right away. Was she trying to tell me something? Was she telling me this little story of her coworker out of nowhere to see how I would react to someone's bisexuality in general, and then reveal herself to me once she saw I wasn't freaking out?
Or maybe it's none of the above... but boy, did that possibility shake my world. I know that she's had talks with The Fiancé before, when they were alone at home, where she hinted at stuff like that. He told me so. He also told me that she thinks I am the most conservative and sexually stuck-up and inhibited person in existance, deriving her conclusion from the fact that I avoid talking about sex in my family or sex concerning my family, ever since I walked in on my parents once when I was about to hit puberty. That in itself strikes me as sort of funny, knowing that I have done just about everything in the book, and am open to doing just about anything else too outrageous to even be in the book in the first place, have a partner who pushes me to go further and further each time we have sex, and considering that I have a surgical steel ring stuck through my genitalia, and I am loving every second of it.
Call me stuck up and inhibited, girly, will ya.
Anyways. The possibility of my sister being a bisexual as well? Too horrible to even put into one coherent thought. As irrational as it may sound to anyone else... but... how much further do I have to go, how much more outrageous do I have to become, to finally cut that invisible cable between my sister and I that somehow seems to make us clones in everything I do and am? I love her - I do - I just want to finally be apart from her and totally submerged in my own thing, without looking like we're each others' copycats, and arguing about who came up with something first, and who followed along. I've had enough of being "cast twins".
Next thing she'll be picking up an instrument and becoming famous with a band before I do.
Picture me unreasonably upset.
I still have her voice mail to listen to though... but even that I do less and less. It hurts, and I don't want to expose myself to that, and on top of that I don't really want to admit to the pain it causes either... cause that would mean I would have to admit to just how deeply she's got me, and furthermore that would mean I'd have to admit to how stupid it is to fall for a person completely unknown to me, and dragging that crush on and on and on beyond any reason and rationale.
So... all you pretty women out there between 23 and 30 and above 5'8" tall living in the Los Angeles area and having no problem with my fiancé and my committment to our life and love together... come to mamma. ;)
It also didn't help my enthusiasm to write here, that I had to emotionally deal with something my little sister dished out to me the other day. You see... if you want to understand me and about half of the issues I am dragging around with myself, you'll have to understand my partially dysfunctional relationship I have with my sister.
No, I love my sister, really. A whole lot in fact - and especially since she stopped being a puberty-ridden problematic teenager a few years ago, she and I have developed a really close friendship, and at least on my part she's closer to me than many people I call my close friends.
However... ever since I can remember I have felt inferior to my sister, despite the fact of me being older. For many reasons... but what it comes down to is that I can't remember one thing in my life that I could have for myself - me, myself, and I - without her interfering, or taking those same things special to me and making them her own. Let me give you a few examples: fighting for allowance. Oh boy, and how did I fight for allowance. I wasn't allowed any money for a long time based on reasons of "age", and the immaturity that comes along with it. Finally I got some... a little... I was so happy, I was so proud... until I found out that at the same time my little sister started to get allowance as well, to make it "just" - and suddenly age and immaturity didn't seem to matter anymore. Or: housekeys. I wasn't allowed keys to my parents place as a kid for much the same reasons I wasn't given any allowance. I was just a kid afterall... I could lose them, or whatnot. Finally... finally... I was given a set of housekeys. I felt so gifted, they were so precious to me - until I turned around and saw a set handed to my little sister as well. Puny little stuff - big sister syndrome - I know, I know. But in such a manner it went on, and on, and on through the years. Heck! I couldn't even have a broken arm all for myself - she broke hers at almost the exact same time, same arm, same injury (- I fell off my bike, and she ran into a wall during gym class) - and we were walking around with identical casts for about 6 weeks, known everywhere with a smirk on peoples' faces as the "cast twins".
And of course, she's always been cooler. Prettier, more popular, funnier, more outgoing, with all the cool friends and all the cool places to go, more daring and adventurous than me, and with guys flocking around her at any given moment. Me? I pretended not to care, continued working on my straight As in high school, my University "career", and my conventional cookie-cutter relationship with one and the same guy for 3 1/2 years. Never went to parties, never went out, never had any guy lusting after me, never had many friends, hiding my disfiguring acne behind buckets of useless paint in my face, making myself as invisible as possible to people by creating as big a likeness as possible to a grey little mouse.
Then: sudden change. I moved to the United States in pretty much the spur of a moment. What a big deal! What an outrage! If I looked for uniqueness in my family, I sure found it now. No one in my family ever left the country, no one ever gave up everything they were doing in order to follow a dream, and I knew it was something my sister wouldn't even dream of doing. I was sure to ensure my place in family history with such blatant boldness! And all went well... so well. Boy, was I unique, and boy, did I get attention. That is - until my sister decided to come visit me, fell in love with one of my best friends, made MY friends HER friends, and is periodically hanging around in MY world, in MY country, with MY people ever since. She took my world, the world I worked so hard for to claim for my own and to keep family intruders out of, and made it her own.
Now I can see how you might think I am overreacting, and how I should be glad having her here so relatively often when usually I don't get to see my family a whole lot - but try being me for an instant, and you'll understand.
But anway... that's how things happened, that's how things are, and it's all water under the bridge now.
I still have the most unique thing about myself to myself. The uniqueness I am reveling in, the uniqueness I am still tentatively exploring, the uniqueness so precious and special to me that I am hesitant sharing it with less open-minded people yet.
I am a bisexual!
How friggin' unique is that?
Well, maybe not all that, but in my family surely more unique than a purple-specked carnivorous pig singing La Cucaracha under a hot shower.
Or so I thought. Or what??? You can probally tell that I wasn't pleased when my sister revealed to me that one of her coworkers outed herself to her as a bisexual, and her comment to that being that this was "very interesting". Now I am aware that "very interesting" doesn't have to mean a damn thing, but of course a thousand little alarm bells were ringing in my head at this right away. Was she trying to tell me something? Was she telling me this little story of her coworker out of nowhere to see how I would react to someone's bisexuality in general, and then reveal herself to me once she saw I wasn't freaking out?
Or maybe it's none of the above... but boy, did that possibility shake my world. I know that she's had talks with The Fiancé before, when they were alone at home, where she hinted at stuff like that. He told me so. He also told me that she thinks I am the most conservative and sexually stuck-up and inhibited person in existance, deriving her conclusion from the fact that I avoid talking about sex in my family or sex concerning my family, ever since I walked in on my parents once when I was about to hit puberty. That in itself strikes me as sort of funny, knowing that I have done just about everything in the book, and am open to doing just about anything else too outrageous to even be in the book in the first place, have a partner who pushes me to go further and further each time we have sex, and considering that I have a surgical steel ring stuck through my genitalia, and I am loving every second of it.
Call me stuck up and inhibited, girly, will ya.
Anyways. The possibility of my sister being a bisexual as well? Too horrible to even put into one coherent thought. As irrational as it may sound to anyone else... but... how much further do I have to go, how much more outrageous do I have to become, to finally cut that invisible cable between my sister and I that somehow seems to make us clones in everything I do and am? I love her - I do - I just want to finally be apart from her and totally submerged in my own thing, without looking like we're each others' copycats, and arguing about who came up with something first, and who followed along. I've had enough of being "cast twins".
Next thing she'll be picking up an instrument and becoming famous with a band before I do.
Picture me unreasonably upset.
Wednesday, February 16, 2005
Back to School
..for the last time. And even though I am only enrolled in an advanced Photoshop class this semester, picture me highly annoyed. You see, I am already finished with my curriculum, I am already a certified gaphic designer (sans the hardcopy certificate yet), but I have to take another semester in order to be allowed to stay in the country legally until my graduation ceremony in June.
However... much fun as Photoshop is, it's been 8 years since I graduated from high school, I wasted 4 of those at the University in Vienna without ever graduating, and now it's about TIME to be done with education. I am tired of it. Time to start LIFE. Without the disruption of school.
On the other hand... the longer the semester, the longer my justification of staying in the country...
However... much fun as Photoshop is, it's been 8 years since I graduated from high school, I wasted 4 of those at the University in Vienna without ever graduating, and now it's about TIME to be done with education. I am tired of it. Time to start LIFE. Without the disruption of school.
On the other hand... the longer the semester, the longer my justification of staying in the country...
Tuesday, February 15, 2005
Chocolates and Flowers...
Valentine's Day truly is the worst of all artificially created holidays. I wonder how many couples end up fighting or breaking up that day, just because they cannot or don't want to fulfill the general expectations of overdone and overdisplayed shows of affection and special attention designated to this day, yet they can't get out of it because it's all around them, it's everywhere, it's total media control!
Needless to say, we didn't get to go on our arranged date last night. Which would have been fine, would I never have known about it in the first place. But getting me all excited about it, and then making it look to the generous donors as if I was the one who created the problems that caused us not to go in the end is way not cool.
What followed was emotional breakdown. Completely. Which just got me mad even more, because I virtually never let my guard down, and almost never allow anyone a peek into my soul. I give them superficial glimpses... every once in a while... and other than that I believe in attack as my best method of defense. I hurt before I get hurt. I lash out before people get a chance to lash out at me. And I always dip my darts in poison. I know that this causes problems in my relationships with other people (The Fiancé included), but I can live with that. It's always been this way. What I cannot live with is when my wall comes crashing down all around me all of a sudden and all people need to do in order to know what really is up with me is to look. I cannot cope with that. So I spent the Eve of Valentine's Day a sobbing pathetic lump on our bed, so drained that I could hardly move, and so vulnerable and defenseless that The Fiancé had no grounds to attack anymore. It would have been as satisfying as it would have been for a mean ol' bully to attack a sick little baby, really. A sick little baby who ran out of poison darts. So he mostly just sat there rather taken aback, looking at me, listening to me, and then mostly just holding me, letting me cry, and begging me to open up to him more, to spare him some confusion and us a lot of misunderstandings.
And I can't stop thinking that if it wouldn't have been Valentine's Day yesterday, none of this would have happened at all.
Needless to say, we didn't get to go on our arranged date last night. Which would have been fine, would I never have known about it in the first place. But getting me all excited about it, and then making it look to the generous donors as if I was the one who created the problems that caused us not to go in the end is way not cool.
What followed was emotional breakdown. Completely. Which just got me mad even more, because I virtually never let my guard down, and almost never allow anyone a peek into my soul. I give them superficial glimpses... every once in a while... and other than that I believe in attack as my best method of defense. I hurt before I get hurt. I lash out before people get a chance to lash out at me. And I always dip my darts in poison. I know that this causes problems in my relationships with other people (The Fiancé included), but I can live with that. It's always been this way. What I cannot live with is when my wall comes crashing down all around me all of a sudden and all people need to do in order to know what really is up with me is to look. I cannot cope with that. So I spent the Eve of Valentine's Day a sobbing pathetic lump on our bed, so drained that I could hardly move, and so vulnerable and defenseless that The Fiancé had no grounds to attack anymore. It would have been as satisfying as it would have been for a mean ol' bully to attack a sick little baby, really. A sick little baby who ran out of poison darts. So he mostly just sat there rather taken aback, looking at me, listening to me, and then mostly just holding me, letting me cry, and begging me to open up to him more, to spare him some confusion and us a lot of misunderstandings.
And I can't stop thinking that if it wouldn't have been Valentine's Day yesterday, none of this would have happened at all.
Monday, February 14, 2005
Happy Valentine's Day!
Or not, as the case may be. As for me? I haven't figured out yet if it's a happy or a sad one... and it's already 7pm. Not much more time to figure, eh?
Thing is... The Fiancé and I have postponed Valentine's Day until next week, when we'll hopefully have some money saved up to go up to Santa Barbara for a romantic getaway with jacuzzi type thing. We agreed on not gifting each other with cutsey little cheesy things that we don't have money for... because we have all year round to do that, and I am not into feeding the chocolate-and-flower-businesses, just because the media and TV commercials tell me so.
We really already wanted to "getaway" right after I came back from my Europe trip, but... bills and stuff... you know how Real Life™ can be likesometimes most of the time.
Anyway. Turns out that the Roomies want to send us out on a date tonight, and pay for everything. *blink blink* What a sweet surprise! And after I got over being weirded out over this, I actually got really excited. Movie! Ice cream! Dinner! Quality time with the man I love and never get to spend time with that doesn't revolve around work or band stuff! However... I have made the apparent mistake of mentioning the fact that his working until at least 9pm tonight is a bit incovenient for the occasion, and then made the second apparent mistake of inquiring as to whether or not he could possibly get out an hour earlier. He concluded that I was an ungrateful, nagging, complaining bitch who doesn't want to go and has something negative to say about everything even if it's free and something nice and sweet someone likes to do for us, and concluded his brilliant deduction with "well, just forget about it".
Hurm. I just came back from dropping him off at work, and watching him leave the car without saying good bye to me. Not sure what is going to happen... can Valentine's Day be saved?
Of course, I will never find out until I go back outside and fetch my cell phone from the car... so while I go do that, I'll entertain you with a list of keywords people have used to find this here blog. It partially entertained me today, so why not share all the fun:
latex-clad girls
le sex shoppe
bisexual blog
short story on how someone got in an accident because other person in car was talking on cell phone
clit coming
hood piercings
phantom pains definition piercings
clit blog
Once I find it, I'll make sure to hook y'all up with my Pulitzer-deserving short story on how someone got in an accident because other person in car was talking on cell... *rolls eyes*
Thing is... The Fiancé and I have postponed Valentine's Day until next week, when we'll hopefully have some money saved up to go up to Santa Barbara for a romantic getaway with jacuzzi type thing. We agreed on not gifting each other with cutsey little cheesy things that we don't have money for... because we have all year round to do that, and I am not into feeding the chocolate-and-flower-businesses, just because the media and TV commercials tell me so.
We really already wanted to "getaway" right after I came back from my Europe trip, but... bills and stuff... you know how Real Life™ can be like
Anyway. Turns out that the Roomies want to send us out on a date tonight, and pay for everything. *blink blink* What a sweet surprise! And after I got over being weirded out over this, I actually got really excited. Movie! Ice cream! Dinner! Quality time with the man I love and never get to spend time with that doesn't revolve around work or band stuff! However... I have made the apparent mistake of mentioning the fact that his working until at least 9pm tonight is a bit incovenient for the occasion, and then made the second apparent mistake of inquiring as to whether or not he could possibly get out an hour earlier. He concluded that I was an ungrateful, nagging, complaining bitch who doesn't want to go and has something negative to say about everything even if it's free and something nice and sweet someone likes to do for us, and concluded his brilliant deduction with "well, just forget about it".
Hurm. I just came back from dropping him off at work, and watching him leave the car without saying good bye to me. Not sure what is going to happen... can Valentine's Day be saved?
Of course, I will never find out until I go back outside and fetch my cell phone from the car... so while I go do that, I'll entertain you with a list of keywords people have used to find this here blog. It partially entertained me today, so why not share all the fun:
Once I find it, I'll make sure to hook y'all up with my Pulitzer-deserving short story on how someone got in an accident because other person in car was talking on cell... *rolls eyes*
Saturday, February 12, 2005
She didn't.
There... all suspension taken away in the headline already.
Who am I kidding, anyway? Like Roomie#E likes to say on occasion: "Things happen for a reason", and like The Ex said to me the other day in a conversation revolving around my crush on her: "Be careful what you wish for."
I guess it's time to reconsider. Take to heart those two statements. Chasing after and lusting for the fantasy of a woman who is rather obviously not likewise inclined will get me nothing other than heartache, and it does nothing for my every day mood, which in turn influences my relationship with The Fiancé - who is still supportive and encouraging me despite everything.
We have been invited to a birthday party in Long Beach tonight, by some guy who came to the gig last night. Long Beach, yanno. The Fiancé asked me if I liked to go, and I just sort of shrugged it off. I don't know if I want to go yet. He looked at me sort of bewildered and said something like... but come on! Long Beach! We could call her!
Yeah... we could. But there is a fine line between just calling someone and asking them out, or to be annoying them and being importunate. She got her message across, and that's fine. Time to move on.
Who am I kidding, anyway? Like Roomie#E likes to say on occasion: "Things happen for a reason", and like The Ex said to me the other day in a conversation revolving around my crush on her: "Be careful what you wish for."
I guess it's time to reconsider. Take to heart those two statements. Chasing after and lusting for the fantasy of a woman who is rather obviously not likewise inclined will get me nothing other than heartache, and it does nothing for my every day mood, which in turn influences my relationship with The Fiancé - who is still supportive and encouraging me despite everything.
We have been invited to a birthday party in Long Beach tonight, by some guy who came to the gig last night. Long Beach, yanno. The Fiancé asked me if I liked to go, and I just sort of shrugged it off. I don't know if I want to go yet. He looked at me sort of bewildered and said something like... but come on! Long Beach! We could call her!
Yeah... we could. But there is a fine line between just calling someone and asking them out, or to be annoying them and being importunate. She got her message across, and that's fine. Time to move on.
Friday, February 11, 2005
Will she come?
We shall see, I guess. Of course she didn't call me back... but that was to be expected, wasn't it? I mean, I didn't tell her to, and I didn't leave my callback number.
Or did she? Yesterday afternoon The Fiancé called me to chit chat, and while we were doing so, I got a call waiting... no number showing... meaning someone called with blocked ID, just like Jo did last time. Technologically challenged as I am, I couldn't figure out how to switch between calls, and when I finally did, all I could hear was a steady signal tone on the other line.
No message left. Could it have been her? Will she make the long trip from Long Beach to Hollywood tonight through the hard rain to see us play, simply because I asked her to? Stay tuned for the next episode on "The Other Blog", coming soon to a computer screen near you...
Or did she? Yesterday afternoon The Fiancé called me to chit chat, and while we were doing so, I got a call waiting... no number showing... meaning someone called with blocked ID, just like Jo did last time. Technologically challenged as I am, I couldn't figure out how to switch between calls, and when I finally did, all I could hear was a steady signal tone on the other line.
No message left. Could it have been her? Will she make the long trip from Long Beach to Hollywood tonight through the hard rain to see us play, simply because I asked her to? Stay tuned for the next episode on "The Other Blog", coming soon to a computer screen near you...
Thursday, February 10, 2005
Metallic Benefits
You see, I am not a woman who normally has problems having an orgasm. Unless I am with a certain someone who claims I am having self-esteem problems and am not in touch with my own body, because I couldn't cum within the five uneventful minutes it usually took him to finish. The same guy who has a "best lover in the world" trophy of some kind standing in one of his corners, allegedly given to him by an actual flesh-and-blood woman. The same guy who had his first sexual experience with a four-legged non-human... err, I am getting off on a tangent here that might not be quite appropriate. Maybe I'll save that story for another day.
So, like I said. I usually orgasm easily, and above all a lot. You can call it a hobby of mine. List your favorite hobbies: reading, skiing, playing music, and orgasming... lol. I am a Big-O-Addict, I'll do anything (- and most of all myself) in order to get my next fix. Heh. The Fiancé has commented on occasion how unusual of a woman I am in that regard, cause it doesn't really matter what he's doing with me, or how he's doing it, given some time eventually he'll always succeed. So, with this in mind... picture me one happy little girl pretty much most of the time, especially considering how insatiable of a clichée Latin Lover shares my bed with me.
That said... with all these premises in mind... and me already being quite the orgasmoholic, imagine how I felt like today when - completely unexpectedly - it took me a grand total of maybe 2 minutes to go off like a rocket. 2 minutes! With no change of technique applied whatsoever. 2 minutes! It's like gift-wrapping an already perfectly shiny 450 horsepower Porsche with one million new and crisp 1-dollar bills.
I love you so much, little ring in my not-sore-anymore flesh! As I previously predicted, we became best friends rather quickly. And I love you, Sick Mike, for you have obviously paid a lot of attention in perfect-HCH-placement 101.
And I love you, weird band we went to see perform last night, for you used your 5-string Schecter bass in such a way and in such a volume that I had the grandest of times sitting on that couch in front of the stage with slightly opened legs...
So, like I said. I usually orgasm easily, and above all a lot. You can call it a hobby of mine. List your favorite hobbies: reading, skiing, playing music, and orgasming... lol. I am a Big-O-Addict, I'll do anything (- and most of all myself) in order to get my next fix. Heh. The Fiancé has commented on occasion how unusual of a woman I am in that regard, cause it doesn't really matter what he's doing with me, or how he's doing it, given some time eventually he'll always succeed. So, with this in mind... picture me one happy little girl pretty much most of the time, especially considering how insatiable of a clichée Latin Lover shares my bed with me.
That said... with all these premises in mind... and me already being quite the orgasmoholic, imagine how I felt like today when - completely unexpectedly - it took me a grand total of maybe 2 minutes to go off like a rocket. 2 minutes! With no change of technique applied whatsoever. 2 minutes! It's like gift-wrapping an already perfectly shiny 450 horsepower Porsche with one million new and crisp 1-dollar bills.
I love you so much, little ring in my not-sore-anymore flesh! As I previously predicted, we became best friends rather quickly. And I love you, Sick Mike, for you have obviously paid a lot of attention in perfect-HCH-placement 101.
And I love you, weird band we went to see perform last night, for you used your 5-string Schecter bass in such a way and in such a volume that I had the grandest of times sitting on that couch in front of the stage with slightly opened legs...
Wednesday, February 09, 2005
Do, or do not. There is no try. (Master Yoda)
Okay... I already did it once, so I might as well do it again, no? And afterall... she told me to, no?
Be proud of me!!!
11:36am seemed like a good time to call her, because chances are that she is at work, and I will get to talk with her answering machine again, and not making an ass out of myself by talking with her in person and having to ask her to repeat every other sentence again cause I can't hear people on the phone very well, sounding like a complete retard. Believe you me... if you ever had the chance to talk with me on the phone, you'll know that it's a procedure as enjoyable as getting our toenails pulled - both yours and mine. Yours because it's like having to mimick a broken record at full volume in order for me to understand what you are saying, and mine because I feel like an idiot having to ask you to mimick a broken record at full volume in order to understand what you are saying over and over again.
Anyway. I was right. I got her answering machine. However, I discovered that I can also sound like a complete retard when I am just leaving a message. So yeah... I thanked her for calling me back and letting me know that she was alright, and that I thought it was really "sweet" (-sweet! Ugh!) of her... and then that if she's still interested and since it didn't work out last weekend, she can come see us play this Friday, gave her the time and location of the gig, and then... ugh... then I told her that I would love to see her there.
You see, I didn't say: "I'd love to see you there."
I said: "I'd love to see you there."
How idiotic!!! How creepy!!!
Then I forgot to leave her my call back number (- who says that she wrote it down somewhere, last time?), forgot to tell her to call me back to confirm or to decline, told her "I will see you later, girl", and hung up... breathing hard to get my heartbeat back under my own control, and to get my wild irrational shaking to stop.
Well. At least nobody can tell me I didn't get over myself and try. Nu-huh.
Be proud of me!!!
11:36am seemed like a good time to call her, because chances are that she is at work, and I will get to talk with her answering machine again, and not making an ass out of myself by talking with her in person and having to ask her to repeat every other sentence again cause I can't hear people on the phone very well, sounding like a complete retard. Believe you me... if you ever had the chance to talk with me on the phone, you'll know that it's a procedure as enjoyable as getting our toenails pulled - both yours and mine. Yours because it's like having to mimick a broken record at full volume in order for me to understand what you are saying, and mine because I feel like an idiot having to ask you to mimick a broken record at full volume in order to understand what you are saying over and over again.
Anyway. I was right. I got her answering machine. However, I discovered that I can also sound like a complete retard when I am just leaving a message. So yeah... I thanked her for calling me back and letting me know that she was alright, and that I thought it was really "sweet" (-sweet! Ugh!) of her... and then that if she's still interested and since it didn't work out last weekend, she can come see us play this Friday, gave her the time and location of the gig, and then... ugh... then I told her that I would love to see her there.
You see, I didn't say: "I'd love to see you there."
I said: "I'd love to see you there."
How idiotic!!! How creepy!!!
Then I forgot to leave her my call back number (- who says that she wrote it down somewhere, last time?), forgot to tell her to call me back to confirm or to decline, told her "I will see you later, girl", and hung up... breathing hard to get my heartbeat back under my own control, and to get my wild irrational shaking to stop.
Well. At least nobody can tell me I didn't get over myself and try. Nu-huh.
Monday, February 07, 2005
On a second thought...
I left both mine and The Fiancé's callback number on her answering machine when I called her... and if I remember right I told her to give "us" a call back, not "me"... and The Fiancé has left a message for her asking about her well being before I left mine... so she had his message, and mine, and both our cell phone numbers, both of us asking her to call back to see how she was doing after the accident...
...yet The Fiancé didn't receive a call back from her, even though he is much closer acquainted with her than I am. She called me instead...
...yet The Fiancé didn't receive a call back from her, even though he is much closer acquainted with her than I am. She called me instead...
Sunday, February 06, 2005
Mistake, mistake... BIG mistake...
Oh boy, was I pissed at The Fiancé today. But then... who wouldn't be. He went out on "errands" with the roomies, leaving me at home bored, working, waiting for them to come home, thinking they are shopping like they said they are, starving with nothing in my stomach all day but a 3 Musketeers bar, and a gaping hole for a fridge interior. But that's cool... they run errands, afterall... yes? So after more time has passed than all the errands in the world could possibly take up, I make a phone call. And also to gently remind him to please bring me a $1 hot dog from 7/11 when he goes pick up some cat food, cause a 1$ hot dog is all I was willing to spend on food today, with bills and rent looming horribly over our heads.
So he picks up. Lots of noise in the background. "Hey, I just wanted to tell you... wait... where are you? What's that noise?"
"Oh... just here, at the California Brewery." All chipper and happy.
What followed was stunned silence, a horribly growling stomach, an explanation of how I supposedly should have gathered the information "we're gonna have a boys night out with beer and lots of food because our fridge is empty" from the overheard conversation: "I'll go with you guys to pick up some ink for the printers and then to the Guitar Center and then come back ASAP, because we have a lot of laundry to be done", and then tears.
Many, many tears.
You'd think anybody would pick up their bloody cell phone and give me a ring, telling me that they are done with errands, and are going to go get food and have fun™, asking me if I was hungry, and maybe wanted to come, too.
Yeah... think again.
Another full hour passed before they returned from their beer soaked venture... one full hour, when the place is no more than 10 minutes away from home, and when I was crying desperately into the phone, in utter hurt confusion on why I was left behind alone at home in the belief that useful errands are being run, sobbing in a way that would make any man with a heart in his chest drop whatever he is doing and hurry home to his damsel in distress.
Do you know how many tears can be shed in one full hour? I don't know either. I lost count when my sleeve was soaked with snot and started to drain onto my pillow.
To make a long story short and without explaining too much on why he came home empty-handed when he should have had the decency to at least bring me something to eat from the place, or at least a cup of Cherry-loves-Cheesecake ColdStone ice cream from right across the street to make amends and render me a bit more placable, and on why he then had to run out to get cat food after he came home instead of before, and then spent 2 hours in search for something to eat for me when I told him that I don't want anything anymore and then returned with only half of what I eventually allowed him to bring me because "Ooops, $5 haven't been enough" after I told him "Get more money, because $5 won't be enough":
After he called me once and I decided not to pick up because I am wrathful like that, I got another phone call. Maybe three minutes later. Blocked caller ID. Now, I have a policy of not picking up when I don't know the number period, and especially not after I just refused to pick up The Fiancé, who could possibly have been sneaky and turned off his caller ID to trick me into thinking it is not him and therefore making me pick up when I don't want to talk with him.
Yeah... I know I am interpreting too much into a man's creativity.
Anyway. So I was there, lying on my bed in the dark, my eyes so swollen that I could barely look out of them, curled up on my snot-stained pillow, watching my cell phone silently but excitedly flash in announcement of the incoming phone call. I was staring at it wildly irate, and if I would have had the super power to shoot little acid-soaked arrows out of my eyes, I would have used it on my cell phone right then and there.
The excited flashing stopped evetually. Everything was quiet and the room went dark again, as the lights on my cell phone gave up on me and went out. I was thinking: "Ha.", and was immediately interrupted by the sudden announcement that I have received a new voice mail.
Then... sudden horror piercing my heart like an icy spear. What if it wasn't The Fiancé afterall, because - as is common knowledge - men don't usually go to great lengths like that to get a pissed off and hurt woman to talk with them... what if it was...
- I fished for my phone and furiously pushed the button that would connect me to my mailbox. "You have one new message, received at 9:23pm..."
"Hi it's Jo, I just got your message, and I just wanted to say thank you for calling, that's so sweet of you guys to..." The rest got kind of lost in the sudden thunderous rush of blood in my ears, but it ended something like: "so... give me a call sometime... I will talk with you later."
WHAT A STUPID IDIOT I AM!!!
But her voice... oh, her voice... like some weirdo stalker I immediately saved her message... and listened to it over and over and over again. So sweet... I could hear her energy and her laughter through her voice, and her smile, the way she was touching me when we were talking the first time, the way she hugged me when we left the party... all that came rushing back at me with such a clear intensity that I wasn't even aware I remembered her with. I was ready to call her back and tell her everything as soon as I got to hear her voice... but of course I didn't. Instead I started to become insecure about myself again, feeling again like the clumsy and ugly teenager that I once was, my self-esteem hit rock bottom again, again I was unworthy of even hearing Her voice through my cell phone, and I felt no bigger than a tiny amoeba in comparison to the mighty sun in the resounding of her beautiful laughs on my answering machine. And again I was thinking... what the hell am I doing here... what the hell am I thinking... the very thoughts I promised myself never to think of again, when it comes to admitting and being proud of who and what I am.
"...give me a call sometime... I will talk with you later..."
Was that an invitation, or a polite way of telling me off? I mean... don't we tell people to "see you later" or "call me up sometime" all the time when we have not the slightest intention of ever talking with them again??? I know that I do. "Yeah... let's stay in touch,and now get out of my face already you boring lame person, and stop bugging me."
So he picks up. Lots of noise in the background. "Hey, I just wanted to tell you... wait... where are you? What's that noise?"
"Oh... just here, at the California Brewery." All chipper and happy.
What followed was stunned silence, a horribly growling stomach, an explanation of how I supposedly should have gathered the information "we're gonna have a boys night out with beer and lots of food because our fridge is empty" from the overheard conversation: "I'll go with you guys to pick up some ink for the printers and then to the Guitar Center and then come back ASAP, because we have a lot of laundry to be done", and then tears.
Many, many tears.
You'd think anybody would pick up their bloody cell phone and give me a ring, telling me that they are done with errands, and are going to go get food and have fun™, asking me if I was hungry, and maybe wanted to come, too.
Yeah... think again.
Another full hour passed before they returned from their beer soaked venture... one full hour, when the place is no more than 10 minutes away from home, and when I was crying desperately into the phone, in utter hurt confusion on why I was left behind alone at home in the belief that useful errands are being run, sobbing in a way that would make any man with a heart in his chest drop whatever he is doing and hurry home to his damsel in distress.
Do you know how many tears can be shed in one full hour? I don't know either. I lost count when my sleeve was soaked with snot and started to drain onto my pillow.
To make a long story short and without explaining too much on why he came home empty-handed when he should have had the decency to at least bring me something to eat from the place, or at least a cup of Cherry-loves-Cheesecake ColdStone ice cream from right across the street to make amends and render me a bit more placable, and on why he then had to run out to get cat food after he came home instead of before, and then spent 2 hours in search for something to eat for me when I told him that I don't want anything anymore and then returned with only half of what I eventually allowed him to bring me because "Ooops, $5 haven't been enough" after I told him "Get more money, because $5 won't be enough":
After he called me once and I decided not to pick up because I am wrathful like that, I got another phone call. Maybe three minutes later. Blocked caller ID. Now, I have a policy of not picking up when I don't know the number period, and especially not after I just refused to pick up The Fiancé, who could possibly have been sneaky and turned off his caller ID to trick me into thinking it is not him and therefore making me pick up when I don't want to talk with him.
Yeah... I know I am interpreting too much into a man's creativity.
Anyway. So I was there, lying on my bed in the dark, my eyes so swollen that I could barely look out of them, curled up on my snot-stained pillow, watching my cell phone silently but excitedly flash in announcement of the incoming phone call. I was staring at it wildly irate, and if I would have had the super power to shoot little acid-soaked arrows out of my eyes, I would have used it on my cell phone right then and there.
The excited flashing stopped evetually. Everything was quiet and the room went dark again, as the lights on my cell phone gave up on me and went out. I was thinking: "Ha.", and was immediately interrupted by the sudden announcement that I have received a new voice mail.
Then... sudden horror piercing my heart like an icy spear. What if it wasn't The Fiancé afterall, because - as is common knowledge - men don't usually go to great lengths like that to get a pissed off and hurt woman to talk with them... what if it was...
- I fished for my phone and furiously pushed the button that would connect me to my mailbox. "You have one new message, received at 9:23pm..."
"Hi it's Jo, I just got your message, and I just wanted to say thank you for calling, that's so sweet of you guys to..." The rest got kind of lost in the sudden thunderous rush of blood in my ears, but it ended something like: "so... give me a call sometime... I will talk with you later."
WHAT A STUPID IDIOT I AM!!!
But her voice... oh, her voice... like some weirdo stalker I immediately saved her message... and listened to it over and over and over again. So sweet... I could hear her energy and her laughter through her voice, and her smile, the way she was touching me when we were talking the first time, the way she hugged me when we left the party... all that came rushing back at me with such a clear intensity that I wasn't even aware I remembered her with. I was ready to call her back and tell her everything as soon as I got to hear her voice... but of course I didn't. Instead I started to become insecure about myself again, feeling again like the clumsy and ugly teenager that I once was, my self-esteem hit rock bottom again, again I was unworthy of even hearing Her voice through my cell phone, and I felt no bigger than a tiny amoeba in comparison to the mighty sun in the resounding of her beautiful laughs on my answering machine. And again I was thinking... what the hell am I doing here... what the hell am I thinking... the very thoughts I promised myself never to think of again, when it comes to admitting and being proud of who and what I am.
"...give me a call sometime... I will talk with you later..."
Was that an invitation, or a polite way of telling me off? I mean... don't we tell people to "see you later" or "call me up sometime" all the time when we have not the slightest intention of ever talking with them again??? I know that I do. "Yeah... let's stay in touch,
What an evening...
Or, simply put: we rocked the damn house.
We had them singing, dancing, screaming, and giving us standing ovations. I was approached with compliments by many people (not pertaining to our private fanbase) about my performance. We were approached by the solo guitarist who played before us, asking us if she could open up for us in the future.
We were asked to be opened up for! Not the other way round...! We sold CDs... we had a full house... but most of all, and most importantly of all, we had fun. I guess that's what sucked people in and made them stay... we had a grand ol' time up there on stage, and this energy got passed onto the crowd, who reflected it back on us, making us perform even better.
Trust me, there is nothing like the feeling of being cheered at on stage by a hyped-up crowd who loves what they see, being up there right with your very best friends whose eyes shine and sparkle just as much as your own, and whose engery bounces off of you, mixing into something so dynamic, it is hard to understand for anyone outside our little circle of three. It puts you on a natural high that is comparable to nothing that I know of, and lets you soar up high, pumping you up with the belief that you can do everything. Everything is possible and within reach! It makes you feel like you are the Queen of the world! :)
Oh, and how I was soaring... even before we started with our show. Jo was coming! I was going to see her! And I kept pulling The Fiancé around everytime I got a hold of him so I could stare at his wrist watch, counting the minutes until I'd get to see her again... at 8 she would be there, she said. Just perfect timing with the beginning of our show!
I made plans... I decided after long and heated discussions with myself that I would approach her, and ask her out. I would hold eye contact with her while on stage, flirt with her... test the waters. No more passive-pathetic drooling over a fantasy I basically know nothing substantial of; now it was time to take the bull by the horns! How else would I ever find out, right?
The minutes passed by, slowly like syrup, and I was fidgety and jumpy... very unlike my usual self. Kept staring out the windows, unable to focus on the show that was going on right before ours. Good thing I could officially blame my nervousness onto the upcoming gig. Reasonable enough.
The performance on stage finally ended... and still no Jo. Yet, I was not even close to giving up hope. She said she would come, and I refused to believe that she is one of those unreliable all-talk-no-action type of people. She can't be! She is the perfect woman afterall, right? So we got ready... and soon I was so focused on performing, that I had - almost - blocked all thoughts of her out of my mind. I occasionally kept scanning the premises for her, but couldn't make her out anywhere. Oh well... we were doing so great up there, that in my arrogance and soaring high I started thinking along the lines of "your own damn fault, if you miss this".
Ah, yes... cockiness.
We were done... I was mingling and networking with the crowd... as The Hostess and her boyfriend walked up to me, a rather grave look on her face, hugging me goodbye, and explaining to me that they'd have to leave now, picking up Jo from the freeway somewhere in Downtown, where she has had an accident on the way here.
An accident!!!
My heart sunk so rapidly that it made me dizzy, and the look on my face must have made me look more than suspicious to her, as I inquired as to what had happened, and if she was okay.
Apparently she got rear-ended by some idiot, and pushed into 2 other cars, and ended up in a 5-car pile-up that left her stranded on the freeway only 10 minutes away from where the show was. Only 10 minutes away! When her whole long drive from Long Beach to Hollywood must have already taken her about 40 minutes that she was willing to invest in coming to seeme us perform! And that idiot who did that to her? Took off.
A freaking hit-and-run!!! I got so mad... so irate... thinking of her, her beautiful face, all upset and freaking out there all alone with a demolished car on the freeway... and that idiot who doesn't even have the slightest idea what he has done... who he has hit... and (- but that is only besides the point) how he has ruined my evening. I was so angry... I wanted to jump right into the car with The Hostess and speed to her rescue...
...what is this? If I wouldn't know any better, I'd say I was feeling the way a man would... all protective over a woman he cares about.
*checks self for boobs*
Okay, still there. Phew.
But of course my rescuing her didn't happen... I had my responsibility towards the band (- aside from the fact that I didn't want to appear weird), and so I had to let them go, take care of business, and worry for the rest of the evening. What it all boiled down to was that when The Hostess and her boyfriend got there, they managed to start her car again, and they took off back to Long Beach. Fortunately nothing had happened to her, but this doesn't change the fact that I somehow feel guilty for what happened to her. Of course I shouldn't feel that way, but... you know... she took that drive to come seeme us... and if we wouldn't have asked her to come, she would have never gotten into that crash in the first place.
She got hit because I wanted to see her again.
I am aware that this is probably a stupid way of thinking about this... but like I already mentioned a few times before: sometimes one's logic doesn't correlate with one's feelings. I can't help but feel responsible in a weird way-
-and my feeling like this finally kicked me in the a$$ enough to overcome myself. This morning I picked up the phone, dialed her number, and hit the talk-button. And why wouldn't I? She came to seeme us... she got into an accident while on the way to see me us... there is nothing weird in calling her up under such circumstances, and asking her how she was doing. And then, when I was finally, after months, resolved on talking with her on the phone, when I knew exactly that I was going to tell her that I feel guilty about her accident, and that I would like for us to take her out to dinner tonight to sort of "make up" for it, when I had my heart set on telling her all these things... I got a shot with her answering machine.
Well... I made the best out of it, and told the answering machine all these things. I told her that we (- 'we' is a safe word) want to take her out for dinner. I left my cell phone number. I asked her to call me back, if she likes to. I hung up, and spent the rest of the day glued to my phone - again.
And well... she hasn't called back. I doubt that she will. Our gig caused her to get into an accident, afterall. I am upset. And who am I kidding about getting her out of my mind, anyways? :(
We had them singing, dancing, screaming, and giving us standing ovations. I was approached with compliments by many people (not pertaining to our private fanbase) about my performance. We were approached by the solo guitarist who played before us, asking us if she could open up for us in the future.
We were asked to be opened up for! Not the other way round...! We sold CDs... we had a full house... but most of all, and most importantly of all, we had fun. I guess that's what sucked people in and made them stay... we had a grand ol' time up there on stage, and this energy got passed onto the crowd, who reflected it back on us, making us perform even better.
Trust me, there is nothing like the feeling of being cheered at on stage by a hyped-up crowd who loves what they see, being up there right with your very best friends whose eyes shine and sparkle just as much as your own, and whose engery bounces off of you, mixing into something so dynamic, it is hard to understand for anyone outside our little circle of three. It puts you on a natural high that is comparable to nothing that I know of, and lets you soar up high, pumping you up with the belief that you can do everything. Everything is possible and within reach! It makes you feel like you are the Queen of the world! :)
Oh, and how I was soaring... even before we started with our show. Jo was coming! I was going to see her! And I kept pulling The Fiancé around everytime I got a hold of him so I could stare at his wrist watch, counting the minutes until I'd get to see her again... at 8 she would be there, she said. Just perfect timing with the beginning of our show!
I made plans... I decided after long and heated discussions with myself that I would approach her, and ask her out. I would hold eye contact with her while on stage, flirt with her... test the waters. No more passive-pathetic drooling over a fantasy I basically know nothing substantial of; now it was time to take the bull by the horns! How else would I ever find out, right?
The minutes passed by, slowly like syrup, and I was fidgety and jumpy... very unlike my usual self. Kept staring out the windows, unable to focus on the show that was going on right before ours. Good thing I could officially blame my nervousness onto the upcoming gig. Reasonable enough.
The performance on stage finally ended... and still no Jo. Yet, I was not even close to giving up hope. She said she would come, and I refused to believe that she is one of those unreliable all-talk-no-action type of people. She can't be! She is the perfect woman afterall, right? So we got ready... and soon I was so focused on performing, that I had - almost - blocked all thoughts of her out of my mind. I occasionally kept scanning the premises for her, but couldn't make her out anywhere. Oh well... we were doing so great up there, that in my arrogance and soaring high I started thinking along the lines of "your own damn fault, if you miss this".
Ah, yes... cockiness.
We were done... I was mingling and networking with the crowd... as The Hostess and her boyfriend walked up to me, a rather grave look on her face, hugging me goodbye, and explaining to me that they'd have to leave now, picking up Jo from the freeway somewhere in Downtown, where she has had an accident on the way here.
An accident!!!
My heart sunk so rapidly that it made me dizzy, and the look on my face must have made me look more than suspicious to her, as I inquired as to what had happened, and if she was okay.
Apparently she got rear-ended by some idiot, and pushed into 2 other cars, and ended up in a 5-car pile-up that left her stranded on the freeway only 10 minutes away from where the show was. Only 10 minutes away! When her whole long drive from Long Beach to Hollywood must have already taken her about 40 minutes that she was willing to invest in coming to see
A freaking hit-and-run!!! I got so mad... so irate... thinking of her, her beautiful face, all upset and freaking out there all alone with a demolished car on the freeway... and that idiot who doesn't even have the slightest idea what he has done... who he has hit... and (- but that is only besides the point) how he has ruined my evening. I was so angry... I wanted to jump right into the car with The Hostess and speed to her rescue...
...what is this? If I wouldn't know any better, I'd say I was feeling the way a man would... all protective over a woman he cares about.
*checks self for boobs*
Okay, still there. Phew.
But of course my rescuing her didn't happen... I had my responsibility towards the band (- aside from the fact that I didn't want to appear weird), and so I had to let them go, take care of business, and worry for the rest of the evening. What it all boiled down to was that when The Hostess and her boyfriend got there, they managed to start her car again, and they took off back to Long Beach. Fortunately nothing had happened to her, but this doesn't change the fact that I somehow feel guilty for what happened to her. Of course I shouldn't feel that way, but... you know... she took that drive to come see
She got hit because I wanted to see her again.
I am aware that this is probably a stupid way of thinking about this... but like I already mentioned a few times before: sometimes one's logic doesn't correlate with one's feelings. I can't help but feel responsible in a weird way-
-and my feeling like this finally kicked me in the a$$ enough to overcome myself. This morning I picked up the phone, dialed her number, and hit the talk-button. And why wouldn't I? She came to see
Well... I made the best out of it, and told the answering machine all these things. I told her that we (- 'we' is a safe word) want to take her out for dinner. I left my cell phone number. I asked her to call me back, if she likes to. I hung up, and spent the rest of the day glued to my phone - again.
And well... she hasn't called back. I doubt that she will. Our gig caused her to get into an accident, afterall. I am upset. And who am I kidding about getting her out of my mind, anyways? :(
Saturday, February 05, 2005
Scratch that...
SHE IS COMING!!!!!!!
*falls over with a loud thud*
*falls over with a loud thud*
I am nervous!
But I guess I am not to blame... show me one person who isn't right before a gig. 3 hours until showtime, and instead of blogging, I should probably already be in the shower, and slapping on more makeup than I usually wear spread over one whole week. Yeah, after the shower, silly.
However... I feel like I owe this blog a Jo-update concerning this evening. Not like there's much to say, though. We left her 2 messages, she never called back, and through a phone call with The Hostess The Fiancé has found out that she probably won't be able to make it tonight, seeing as she works Saturdays and Sundays starting at 6am.
Some job with a radio station. *shrugs*
Of course being subjected to the ways of human nature, I stubbornly refuse to take this as a definite no despite all the evidence of lack of intent, and will probably spend the entire evening fantasizing about how The Hostess convinced her to come afterall, and how she will walk in in the middle of our performance. As a result I will also spend the entire evening scanning the premises for her shining beauty to brighten up my night, not giving up hope until I have played my last note. I will look for her in crowd despite my better knowledge that she won't be there (- don't you hate these battles of logic and knowledge vs. heart and hope sometimes?), and pretend all evening I am playing for her, and how I will boldly walk up to her afterwards, and ask her out on a date.
Ugh... who am I kidding. :(
I don't even understand why I am torturing myself like that over a person I have seen twice in my life, and not again since 4 months. It probably is the better alternative to never ever see her again, and to just open my eyes to all the other pretty women out there. As long as I don't stop seeing her in my mind, as long as I don't stop recalling those sapphire blue eyes into my memory, I will never be open to fully explore my own potential. Only, how hard it is to let go of the image and fantasy of the most perfect woman ever to cross your path...
However... I feel like I owe this blog a Jo-update concerning this evening. Not like there's much to say, though. We left her 2 messages, she never called back, and through a phone call with The Hostess The Fiancé has found out that she probably won't be able to make it tonight, seeing as she works Saturdays and Sundays starting at 6am.
Some job with a radio station. *shrugs*
Of course being subjected to the ways of human nature, I stubbornly refuse to take this as a definite no despite all the evidence of lack of intent, and will probably spend the entire evening fantasizing about how The Hostess convinced her to come afterall, and how she will walk in in the middle of our performance. As a result I will also spend the entire evening scanning the premises for her shining beauty to brighten up my night, not giving up hope until I have played my last note. I will look for her in crowd despite my better knowledge that she won't be there (- don't you hate these battles of logic and knowledge vs. heart and hope sometimes?), and pretend all evening I am playing for her, and how I will boldly walk up to her afterwards, and ask her out on a date.
Ugh... who am I kidding. :(
I don't even understand why I am torturing myself like that over a person I have seen twice in my life, and not again since 4 months. It probably is the better alternative to never ever see her again, and to just open my eyes to all the other pretty women out there. As long as I don't stop seeing her in my mind, as long as I don't stop recalling those sapphire blue eyes into my memory, I will never be open to fully explore my own potential. Only, how hard it is to let go of the image and fantasy of the most perfect woman ever to cross your path...
Positive Reinforcement
I am receiving lots of it, lately. About this blog, for one... and about my recently acquired clit hood piercing as well.
The latter seems to inspire a lot of comments and questions, and not one of them has been of the "you-are-a-fucking-freak"-nature. All of them have been encouraging, and if I may be so cocky: admiring my braveness, my ovaries, if you may. Aside from the fact that The Fiancé is constantly dribbling over me and horribly lamenting the fact that he has to keep himself and all his body parts at least 5 inches away from it because that's how far germs can travel, this is giving me a lot of confidence, and makes me feel really good about myself.
Yeah... it's painful. Yeah... it's uncomfortable to the touch. Yeah... my enforced abstinence is a big sarcrifice. Yeah... yesterday's attempt at masturbation, satisfying and necessary as it was, was a great stupidity which I am paying for right now. But you know what? It's the best damn thing I have ever done for myself... that's right, for ME, MYSELF, and I... and it truly is worth all the hassle. Because of the way it makes me feel about myself. Because of how it makes me feel different from all those "normal" women, into whose mold I do not fit. Because of how it stands for me finally admitting to the fact that I am outside the mold.
It's the exclamation mark that accentuates the statement of "I".
I love it. And I love the positive feedback, despite the commonly accepted "weirdness" of genital piercings in general.
Now... about this blog, this little project of mine. Today, while doing my daily rounds on the internet, I stumbled across an entry on my friend Autumn's blog, talking about an anonymous blog, which she and a few other people have the priviledge of reading. Call me egocentric or self-important, but I am pretty darn sure it was me she was talking about. I dunno how many other people in her circle of online acquaintances have "secret" self-discovery blogs that she has the priviledge of reading, but I take it that it's not very likely, and so I sharply concluded it must me lil' ole' me she devoted parts of that entry to. And what an entry it was. I admit it made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
Unfortunately, she doesn't have the option to link back to her entries, so I'll take the freedom of Ctrl-c, Ctrl-v:
"Bite me. I just keep thinking about this one blog that I can't call out here. I have the privilege of reading this particular blog. A privilege that was given to me by the writer because she's exploring herself in this blog and doesn't feel comfortable sharing it with the world, except for people she trusts, and that is totally understandable.
At the same time, I feel that it's a shame that she doesn't feel that she is allowed to share with the masses what is becoming a very self-defining part of who she is. She has written the best stuff she has ever written, and I think that's because she's writing about stuff that she feels passionately about and I think people with access to her thoughts are blessed in a weird way. I say weird because I've been allowed to be a voyeur in the most voyeuristic way possible, but at the same time it's not dirty. It's enlightening and, dare I say, neato.
She's able to write about things more freely because there are no prying eyes that would judge her poorly. She's finding freedom on her blog and I really hope she keeps writing.
[enter long rant about mutual blog-bashing-and-bitching here]
So ANYWAYS....neener to the rest of you. I'll finish this with a statement about Random Daily Blogs that has nothing to do with my rant....
You are missing so much emotion and discovery and good shit like that on the anonymous blog of which I originally gushed before I got brain diarrhea. And I think this anonymous person reads me here so don't be embarrassed honey because you'll probably know that I'm writing about you but no one else will. I just really intend to read your stuff forever.
And I'm really considering some metal. God save and protect me."
I am not embarrassed. :) I am honored. That's probably the sweetest thing someone has ever said about any of my internetly drivels... and above all it made me think about the way I am approaching this here blog of mine.
What good is a planned "coming out", if I keep this link sheltered securely under the wings of secrecy? What value do all my brave statements of intent have, if I don't go out there and shove myself into the face of the world? Sure, I leave this link to be found by random visitors, I link to bisexual people I don't know and leave comments on their site hoping that they pay me a visit back... but I am hell-bent on leaving people I know in the dark over this.
Maybe it's time for a recap? Who knows about this blog, who knows that I am a bisexual?
I have deliberately given this link to: The Fiancé, Autumn, Ren, Cat, and Caitlin.
The following happened to find out about it without me telling them specifically: The Ex, and Azzy.
Those are the ones that I am aware of, anyways. I am sure there might be more, since I have slowly started to leave the link to here in comments over at Ren's blog, and since she has a lot of readers, odds are that maybe a few of them have surfed over here from there. I think that's how Azzy found this, for instants.
Now, as for the people who don't read blogs, and who I am outed to, I guess that leaves only Roomie#R, and possibly Roomie#E, though I could not be sure, and I certainly don't want to ask.
So... how successful have I been so far? Not very, I fear. I mean... c'mon... not even the woman I gush over has the slightest idea, because I am too chicken shit to make a move on her. Does that make me a failure? I think not... all it really makes me is a coward.
And this is why I have authorized Auty (who has a rather large fan base) to spread the word about this. Whoever you think might enjoy this, please direct them over here. The same goes for Ren, if you are reading, and Cat.
The only restriction: draw the line at people of who you know that know me in real life. I am pretty sure all of you know who that would be, especially if you've been keeping up with my "real" blog over time. I don't wish to spell out names here, but if you wanna be on the safe side, you can always email me.
And right on with the metal, girl... should I feel sorry for having a small hand in corrupting you? ;)
The latter seems to inspire a lot of comments and questions, and not one of them has been of the "you-are-a-fucking-freak"-nature. All of them have been encouraging, and if I may be so cocky: admiring my braveness, my ovaries, if you may. Aside from the fact that The Fiancé is constantly dribbling over me and horribly lamenting the fact that he has to keep himself and all his body parts at least 5 inches away from it because that's how far germs can travel, this is giving me a lot of confidence, and makes me feel really good about myself.
Yeah... it's painful. Yeah... it's uncomfortable to the touch. Yeah... my enforced abstinence is a big sarcrifice. Yeah... yesterday's attempt at masturbation, satisfying and necessary as it was, was a great stupidity which I am paying for right now. But you know what? It's the best damn thing I have ever done for myself... that's right, for ME, MYSELF, and I... and it truly is worth all the hassle. Because of the way it makes me feel about myself. Because of how it makes me feel different from all those "normal" women, into whose mold I do not fit. Because of how it stands for me finally admitting to the fact that I am outside the mold.
It's the exclamation mark that accentuates the statement of "I".
I love it. And I love the positive feedback, despite the commonly accepted "weirdness" of genital piercings in general.
Now... about this blog, this little project of mine. Today, while doing my daily rounds on the internet, I stumbled across an entry on my friend Autumn's blog, talking about an anonymous blog, which she and a few other people have the priviledge of reading. Call me egocentric or self-important, but I am pretty darn sure it was me she was talking about. I dunno how many other people in her circle of online acquaintances have "secret" self-discovery blogs that she has the priviledge of reading, but I take it that it's not very likely, and so I sharply concluded it must me lil' ole' me she devoted parts of that entry to. And what an entry it was. I admit it made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
Unfortunately, she doesn't have the option to link back to her entries, so I'll take the freedom of Ctrl-c, Ctrl-v:
"Bite me. I just keep thinking about this one blog that I can't call out here. I have the privilege of reading this particular blog. A privilege that was given to me by the writer because she's exploring herself in this blog and doesn't feel comfortable sharing it with the world, except for people she trusts, and that is totally understandable.
At the same time, I feel that it's a shame that she doesn't feel that she is allowed to share with the masses what is becoming a very self-defining part of who she is. She has written the best stuff she has ever written, and I think that's because she's writing about stuff that she feels passionately about and I think people with access to her thoughts are blessed in a weird way. I say weird because I've been allowed to be a voyeur in the most voyeuristic way possible, but at the same time it's not dirty. It's enlightening and, dare I say, neato.
She's able to write about things more freely because there are no prying eyes that would judge her poorly. She's finding freedom on her blog and I really hope she keeps writing.
[enter long rant about mutual blog-bashing-and-bitching here]
So ANYWAYS....neener to the rest of you. I'll finish this with a statement about Random Daily Blogs that has nothing to do with my rant....
You are missing so much emotion and discovery and good shit like that on the anonymous blog of which I originally gushed before I got brain diarrhea. And I think this anonymous person reads me here so don't be embarrassed honey because you'll probably know that I'm writing about you but no one else will. I just really intend to read your stuff forever.
And I'm really considering some metal. God save and protect me."
I am not embarrassed. :) I am honored. That's probably the sweetest thing someone has ever said about any of my internetly drivels... and above all it made me think about the way I am approaching this here blog of mine.
What good is a planned "coming out", if I keep this link sheltered securely under the wings of secrecy? What value do all my brave statements of intent have, if I don't go out there and shove myself into the face of the world? Sure, I leave this link to be found by random visitors, I link to bisexual people I don't know and leave comments on their site hoping that they pay me a visit back... but I am hell-bent on leaving people I know in the dark over this.
Maybe it's time for a recap? Who knows about this blog, who knows that I am a bisexual?
I have deliberately given this link to: The Fiancé, Autumn, Ren, Cat, and Caitlin.
The following happened to find out about it without me telling them specifically: The Ex, and Azzy.
Those are the ones that I am aware of, anyways. I am sure there might be more, since I have slowly started to leave the link to here in comments over at Ren's blog, and since she has a lot of readers, odds are that maybe a few of them have surfed over here from there. I think that's how Azzy found this, for instants.
Now, as for the people who don't read blogs, and who I am outed to, I guess that leaves only Roomie#R, and possibly Roomie#E, though I could not be sure, and I certainly don't want to ask.
So... how successful have I been so far? Not very, I fear. I mean... c'mon... not even the woman I gush over has the slightest idea, because I am too chicken shit to make a move on her. Does that make me a failure? I think not... all it really makes me is a coward.
And this is why I have authorized Auty (who has a rather large fan base) to spread the word about this. Whoever you think might enjoy this, please direct them over here. The same goes for Ren, if you are reading, and Cat.
The only restriction: draw the line at people of who you know that know me in real life. I am pretty sure all of you know who that would be, especially if you've been keeping up with my "real" blog over time. I don't wish to spell out names here, but if you wanna be on the safe side, you can always email me.
And right on with the metal, girl... should I feel sorry for having a small hand in corrupting you? ;)
Friday, February 04, 2005
Okay, that should teach me
...to get my pants in a bunch over something before I know all the facts.
Plus, emails aren't really the best way of communicating thoughts and concerns, and are like an open door for misunderstandings, so after we all got together last night after practice, we put the smack down on each other, and in the end felt so warm and fuzzy that we were ready for a group hug.
It's not that they want a new manager... it's just that they want to leave the possibility open that should someone who does this professionally and for a living want to take us over, we can make the switch without hurting anyone's feelings. And that this should be put in writing, along with a lot more administrative stuff revolving around money and copyrights and shares and percentages, so that later there could never arise any problems or misunderstandings.
Paperwork, paperwork... when did this whole thing stop being a fun endeavour for our own amusement in our living room, and turn into a bunch of administrative stuff, heavy leather-bound organizers, road managers, public relations managers, marketing strategies, and contracts?
Not that I am complaining, of course... only the right amount of taking this seriously and turning it into a business can possibly take us somewhere one day.
Not to mention the fact that the more serious we become, the higher my chances of being able to stay in the country will be, seeing as my only justifyable reason to do so is if we can make big buckaroos by playing music.
Hey! Let a girl have her dreams! She has nothing else to hold on to these days, m'kay?
Of course I am aware that this sort of thing has nothing to do with the mission of this here blog... however, since I have decided to let my "real" blog rest for a while at least, this blog here will become a combination of both... trivial everyday stuff... band progress stuff... bisexual stuff. Of course I'll try to keep the trivialities to a minimum, no worries. ;)
And just to throw in today's naughty tidbit to complete this post: if things keep healing at the rate that they currently are, I'm having my hopes up for a little nookie come the beginning of next week... with necessary precautions taken, of course... but nookie nonetheless... PAR-TAY!
Plus, emails aren't really the best way of communicating thoughts and concerns, and are like an open door for misunderstandings, so after we all got together last night after practice, we put the smack down on each other, and in the end felt so warm and fuzzy that we were ready for a group hug.
It's not that they want a new manager... it's just that they want to leave the possibility open that should someone who does this professionally and for a living want to take us over, we can make the switch without hurting anyone's feelings. And that this should be put in writing, along with a lot more administrative stuff revolving around money and copyrights and shares and percentages, so that later there could never arise any problems or misunderstandings.
Paperwork, paperwork... when did this whole thing stop being a fun endeavour for our own amusement in our living room, and turn into a bunch of administrative stuff, heavy leather-bound organizers, road managers, public relations managers, marketing strategies, and contracts?
Not that I am complaining, of course... only the right amount of taking this seriously and turning it into a business can possibly take us somewhere one day.
Not to mention the fact that the more serious we become, the higher my chances of being able to stay in the country will be, seeing as my only justifyable reason to do so is if we can make big buckaroos by playing music.
Hey! Let a girl have her dreams! She has nothing else to hold on to these days, m'kay?
Of course I am aware that this sort of thing has nothing to do with the mission of this here blog... however, since I have decided to let my "real" blog rest for a while at least, this blog here will become a combination of both... trivial everyday stuff... band progress stuff... bisexual stuff. Of course I'll try to keep the trivialities to a minimum, no worries. ;)
And just to throw in today's naughty tidbit to complete this post: if things keep healing at the rate that they currently are, I'm having my hopes up for a little nookie come the beginning of next week... with necessary precautions taken, of course... but nookie nonetheless... PAR-TAY!
Thursday, February 03, 2005
Bummed out
A second message was left on Jo's cell phone without her ever getting back to us, I just found out that I can't wear dangly jewelry in my belly button for anatomical reasons, and the band seems to be considering getting another manager, even though he's doing a kick-ass job - simply because we are all emotionally involved with the current one: The Fiancé.
WTF???
Okay... I have promised to not unfoundedly freak out on people anymore, and to listen to the facts first... but right now this raises the hairs on my neck, seeing how passionately and devotely he's into supporting and helping us. He seems so happy with what he's doing, and he's so good at what he's doing... I am sure it would break his heart to be replaced by some stranger who none of us is "emotionally involved" with. No... what the hell am I talking about... it would break my
Ugh, today is just one of those days. As I already mentioned over at my "real" blog, I just wanna crawl under my blanket, and pretend that if I can't see anyone, nobody can see me, either. Nobody... and especially not my problems. And speaking of my "real" blog... I am getting bored of it, and I feel like I have nothing to tell anymore. Maybe that's because too many people I know are reading. My parents, for one. And the stuff I lately feel like talking about doesn't belong on my "public" (- how hypocritical...) blog. Can you imagine my Mom and Dad finding out about that piece of metal in my hood, and my taste for women? All hell would break lose, I can tell you that.
So this is why I am considering closing the chapter of my "real" blog for good (- oh, how many times have I said that already...), and focusing on this one exclusively. Re-embrace the anonymity that this blog gives me... anonymity and an audience that hasn't been spoiled by pictures of me and real names yet. What a refreshing thought. heart... especially after all he's done for us, and how he's still bending over backwards to get things done for us on a daily basis.
WTF???
Okay... I have promised to not unfoundedly freak out on people anymore, and to listen to the facts first... but right now this raises the hairs on my neck, seeing how passionately and devotely he's into supporting and helping us. He seems so happy with what he's doing, and he's so good at what he's doing... I am sure it would break his heart to be replaced by some stranger who none of us is "emotionally involved" with. No... what the hell am I talking about... it would break my
Ugh, today is just one of those days. As I already mentioned over at my "real" blog, I just wanna crawl under my blanket, and pretend that if I can't see anyone, nobody can see me, either. Nobody... and especially not my problems. And speaking of my "real" blog... I am getting bored of it, and I feel like I have nothing to tell anymore. Maybe that's because too many people I know are reading. My parents, for one. And the stuff I lately feel like talking about doesn't belong on my "public" (- how hypocritical...) blog. Can you imagine my Mom and Dad finding out about that piece of metal in my hood, and my taste for women? All hell would break lose, I can tell you that.
So this is why I am considering closing the chapter of my "real" blog for good (- oh, how many times have I said that already...), and focusing on this one exclusively. Re-embrace the anonymity that this blog gives me... anonymity and an audience that hasn't been spoiled by pictures of me and real names yet. What a refreshing thought. heart... especially after all he's done for us, and how he's still bending over backwards to get things done for us on a daily basis.
Tuesday, February 01, 2005
Madness!
Someone peel me away from my phone, please?
Not that I am suddenly cured from my phonophobia, but ever since The Fiancé called Jo again last night from my cell phone to inform her about our upcoming gig, but only got to exchange himself with her answering machine, I am sitting here, staring at it, wondering... what if she calls this number back...?
Not that she would, of course.
Or would she?
Someone get me a shrink, please. :(
post script: Panties are a new genital piercing's BEST FRIENDS... *pain*
Not that I am suddenly cured from my phonophobia, but ever since The Fiancé called Jo again last night from my cell phone to inform her about our upcoming gig, but only got to exchange himself with her answering machine, I am sitting here, staring at it, wondering... what if she calls this number back...?
Not that she would, of course.
Or would she?
Someone get me a shrink, please. :(
post script: Panties are a new genital piercing's BEST FRIENDS... *pain*
