The Only Way to Start the Day.

I woke up wanting him, not to say that I woke up and wanted him but I actually woke from wanting him. I tried to rouse him with kisses and carressing but he slept on soundly. I looked at the clock and thought it said nine something so I tried to get back to sleep, and failing that I tried to wait for my alarm to go off so I had an excuse to wake him up. I waited and tried to curb my desire. The hour changed and my ten o'clock alarm didn't go off. I took a closer look at the clock. 8:01. Good grief, I only went to bed six hours ago. I tried, again, to fall back asleep, or at least doze. No luck. So I slipped out of bed carefully so as to let him sleep some more and went to my computer to occupy myself with coin articles and erotica till a more reasonable hour. At nine-thirty I slipped back into bed and nestled into him, waking him without a word.
Wow.
You know how they say the longer you wait for something the better is when you get it?
Sooo true.

M.

The new and the old.

Three days ago I finally got a new car. I traded in my '94 ford taurus that had been passed down through three generations via inheiritance and bore a big dent on the left side of the rear bumber and a failing transmission for a whopping $250. Not too bad for a twelve year old ford POS. I got my new car and relinquished my old one to carmax, the salesman was a very pleasant personable man with an unpronoucible surname. He even acknowledged the fact that it must be hard for me to trade in a car that had been in my family, I replied that I had kept it as long as I could. Cars aren't things you can keep for sentimental value. My new car is lovely silver '97 Honda Civic, it has a very nice little aftermarket stereo however I must return to have the disc changer fixed because it doesn't work. I'm trying to get used to it's lack of quirks and actual posession of the power a car is supposed to have.
My job still sucks, yesterday three people called out sick, or having car trouble, or didn't call at all and I had to stay on for a nine hour shift. If you're not willing to work than fucking quit and save the rest of us who actually give a crap some trouble. *growl* I really don't make enough money for the work I do, and doubly so if you consider the effort, care, and knowledge I put in every day. I'm not breaking even, and it will get worse when I have to pay for full insurance coverage on this car. I'm trying not to worry too much, just work as much as I can without killing any customers or myself and keep looking for something else.
I'll twenty years old in a month and four days. Where am I going?
M.

Things I'd Say, Again.

If you were my friend, you would have talked to me. If you were my friend you would have told me you didn't like me getting close to your brother when you first saw it. If you were my friend you would have told me what you felt when you felt it, instead of blaming my father and me for mourning my mother. If you were my friend you would have helped me grow past my faults instead of saving them for when we were fighting to wield against me. If you were my friend you would understand that I don't belong to you. If you were my friend you would not press me to speak and then interupt me to cut me down for every word I say. If you were my friend you would know that just because I don't weep doesn't mean you hurt me any less.
I used to think you were wise, I used to think of you as logical. But now I know that you only like to seem to know, you like to use some version of logic to your ends. Now I see that all along you spun me closer under your control, told me make believe when we were kids in which you were always the queen, told me what I should think, played the role of teacher, and let me hide behind you when I was shy. Do you realize how brave I had to be to chose to do what I wanted over what you would approve of? If you were my friend you would be able to see yourself as something other than a martyr and victim of my flaws. And I know how you'll react to anything I say or do, so I guess I know you, but I don't understand the way you think or what you want anymore. I may have made a few mistakes, but I didn't betray you as you claim, and you have been cruel to me.
I think there's something wrong with you, everyone keeps asking me if you're seeking professional help, and I wish you would because I think it could help you. If you think you can tell me I'm a coward but you think I'm a beautiful person, then you're wrong. My thoughts of you are not so grand or sweet anymore, I don't want your forgiveness because I did nothing so unforgivable. If you could be the least bit humble or acknowledge your own wrongs then I could have hope for you. But I don't want the person you're being now in my life, no matter the history or pain entailed.
M.

Business Possiblities

My stepmom came up with a fabulous idea for a business for me to start, it's actually something I thought of doing when I was ten, with a spin. Exotic pet sitting. I have a good base in the care of different animals already, birds, snakes, lizards, exotic cats, and other creatures that have come my way. I worked at the state zoo for three years, and I have plenty of resources available to me to find out what I need about any given exotic pet. I've been looking at websites, if I brushed up my html skills I could build one of my own, make a business card. I looked at rates and people change around 20 dollars a visit, and some kinds of pets need to be looked in on more than once a day.
And my love could help me with the business. The idea is growing on me quickly.
Better to try and learn then ponder and regret.
M.

What I would say if your hard eyes and voice didn't take my words from me.

From the time I was seven years old you were the one who shaped me. As much as my parents ever did you told me what to believe and want and do. When I laughed at the wrong joke you met me with a glare, when I was scared to do something you did it for me or pushed me til I did it myself. When we were younger you invented ghosts and a religion for me and I believed in them. As we grew I followed you and begged you to lead me, to speak when I was shy, to decide when I couldn't. We were as close as two people could hope to be. When I moved farther from you we spoke for hours and saw each other as often as we could. I was far removed from everything there, I had my parents, you, and a few other friends. That was my world. You were not much different, you had your family, your work, and me. We considered each other sisters, you with only brothers and me an only child, we took each other for family completely.
When my mother died I felt like I didn't know how to act, how to live. I felt like no one knew what to say to me or do around me anymore. And that you seemed that way hurt me terribly. So I did my best to be the same person I had always been, to carry on like I didn't need more from everyone, like I wasn't hurting all of the time. And you never asked, never tried to see into my pain. I couldn't drive, I was afraid of the world. My father stopped working and devoted himself to our farm and me, trying to get me to go out into the world more, make friends and learn how to interact with people. I hardly got to see you, and often when I did you had to come to get me and bring me back again. I felt badly for it, I felt burdensome to you at the same time that I was feeling distant to everyone I had always known. You got upset about being the one the have to plan and drive several times and I felt powerless to change it. My father needed my help, my entire world had changed. When my father decided to remarry I suddenly had three more sisters and a brother. And the whole thing drove my mad. My memory of those first few months is a river of tears and a storm of frusteration. And when I was told that I would have to more out of my home and there would be no place for me in the house being redesigned I was heart broken and furious. When our plan to eventually more out together was forced to happen immediately you were upset, you could stay in your home for as long as you liked and you didn't want to have to go out so suddenly into the world. I didn't talk to you about the turmoil I was in, and I knew you were in your own. When we did move in together you spent much of your time back at your parents house and called that home, not our house together. We worked, both disliking our new jobs, and came home to live parallel but seperate lives. When we went out to do things together I felt like we weren;t having enough fun, like part of you was elsewhere blaming me for your unhappiness.
After we had been out of our homes for a month and a half I had barely seen my family and had not spent a night back and you were spend two or three days a week at our house. Your brother had been coming around and hanging out with us, going out with us and your mother. And the two of you seemed to be getting along. I knew that you hadn't been on the best terms when you lived under the same roof, but he had been out of the house for a few years and you seemed to get on better with him since he wasn;t aroung all of the time. I had developed a crush on him a year or more previously, but thought myself foolish for it and a relationship unlikely. So when he took me to lunch and told me he liked me I knew what I wanted, but I didn't know what to do. I knew you weren't happy with him when he got to close to me, and you didn't like it when I flirted with him. When you found out the next day you reacted as I would never have expected. You made him leave and told me you wouldn't be my friend if I was with him. I didn;t know what to say, I felt like I'd been shot. I knew your feelings, but I couldn't give up what I wanted. I know I went about everything all wrong from that point, but I had no idea how strongly you felt about him, how you loathed him. I couldn't tell you I wanted to stay with him, I couldn't say to you that I knew I would love him. I couldn't tell him how much he was like you and how he made me laugh and amazed me by how much he loved me. I was afraid to speak to you, to let you see me with him, to breathe wrong in your presence or say his name. But you never told me, you never told me how he had hurt you, you never told me how he had failed to be the brother you needed. And I never knew that you had such a low opinion of him. I knew he fought with you, I knew he had his flaws, just I do. but I could see the beauty in both of you, I could see the places where you were the same and the places were you were different. And I know I did things wrong, I didn't know how to handle my first relationship, let alone one my best friend and sister didn't approve of. But the way you reacted to everything, the way you treated me, made me stop feeling like I knew you. Like you knew the answers and could be trusted with anything. The way attacked everything I tried to say, and even critisized me for not crying enough, broke my heart. And I can't say anything you won't hate me for, and everytime I've spoken to you since you left I've been left hurting. I've sobbed til I can't breathe for to long in my life. I don't know if I can trust the people I love anymore. But I do know that no matter if you wanted to be my friend again, we couldn't go back to how we were. And I couldn't trust you to not hurt me. The truth is, I don't want you back. If you want to be civil with me, or him, then it's up to you. I won't speak to someone who snaps my heart with every bitter word they say.
M.

Vacation

I just got back from a very brief, but highly needed, beach trip. Prior to the trip I was having all kinds of body pains from stress and had been sick with a cold for longer than usual. We drove down to Emerald Isle on Thursday after I had a job interview. The drive was about three and a half hours long but it went fairly smoothly. Except for when we accidently ended up in a military base. We were in the far right lane and there were two exit lanes. They were stopping people to check IDs and whatnot and we were like 'Umm, can we turn around?', the guy looked around and told us to go ahead. We thought it was pretty funny. The beach house was one that my love's friend's family rents for a week every year, he and his wife and two kids were already there along with another of my love's friends. We got there at about seven in the evening and only the kids were there, everybody else was out for dinner. The 'kids' are actually about my age, but hey, I'm someone's child too. We hung out for a little while and then went for a walk on the beach. It was really windy so I could barely see how pretty it was because I was fighting to keep my hair out of my eyes. The temperate was nice and the water was warm even though it was kind of cloudy. I got my pants all wet from the knee down even though I rolled them up. We walked back to the house on the sound side of the island and then left to find something to eat. We went nearly the length of the island and couldn't find much, we passed four dairy queens and a bunch of surf shops but there weren't even any seafood buffets. We followed a sign for a Bojangle's off the island but ended up eating at a Wendy's instead, where we got free samples of the new vanilla frosty! *gloat*
God, I'm boring myself to death. S'okay though, no one will ever read this far.
Anyways. When we got back the guys went out to play poker on the porch and I hung out with them. They smoked cigars, drank beer, farted, and talked about computer games. Boys are fun. ^_^ I sat on the back of my baby's chair and watched him play cause I still don't know how to play very well and don't want them to have to teach me. I'm just shy or something. We stayed up till about three, I was falling asleep on his arm by that time. He didn't win, but oh well. We slept on a pull out sofa that made a lot of noise so I woke myself up rolling over a few times. I slept in til eleven and then we went to the grocery to pick up stuff for breakfast and lunch, almost everyone was still asleep when we left. When we got back we ate and went out to the beach. It started sprinkling as we crossed the road to the beach side of the island and was raining on and off the rest of the time we were out there. my baby and I, his friend and his friend's wife, son, and dog all came out with us. They took turns watching the dog on the beach while the rest of us swam. We went out just past the first breakers and it looked like there was a sandbar or something farther out because there were bigger waves breaking out there that died before they got to us. The waves weren't very big, the guys rode the bigger ones to shore but I just let them carry me a little. My love got his arm messed up by being thrown by one of the waves, it's still hurting him. The guys were going to go out to the bigger breakers so I came out. They ended up not going out, they got in trouble for trying to, and I ended up watching the dog for a while. Out of the water with the rain falling it was really cold. I saw a sea urchin spine and caught a bunch of sand fleas, but I only found one coquina. I always used to find tons of them when I was little. My baby found a hermit crab in a long spiral peach colored shell with the tip broken off, it was really neat. The son came out to watch the dog and I went back in. After I got back inm I didn't warm back up from being out. This huge school of tiny fish came right near us, they changed the color of the water there was so many of them. Several of them would jump at the same time in the same spot and it looked like a bubble of fish popping. The birds didn't realise they were there because they didn't want to get that close to us, with good reason. A brown pelican dropped down on top of them and scooped some up and the guys all started cheering at him and he flew away. My baby found two more hermit crabs and also found the first one again twice. I could tell because it was the same color and size and the tip of the shell was broken the same way. We stayed out there for about three hours, got a few good waves but I mostly just enloyed being bobbed by the water. We went back showered and got lunch. We watch the first and second Ghostbusters movies and then they started up dinner. My love's friend made 'house burgers' which is aparently a tradition. They were really good, I want to get his recipe. :) He put onions and green peppers in them. After dessert and all we watched some Freaks and Geeks and then the guys started up poker again, I didn't join them right away but after a couple episodes I went to watch them play. They didn't have any more cigars left, thank goodness. They only played till one thirty and my baby was up when they stopped. We had to be out of the house by noon the next day so we spent the morning packing up. After we said our goodbyes and cleared the place out we went to the public beach to see if we wanted to swim again before we left. It was cold cloudy and rainy so we decided against it and and found a little seafood diner for lunch. They had a cool little courtyard in the middle of the dining room that was exposed to the outdoors and they had a box turle in it. After we ate we went to a couple surf-gift shops looking for some henna, the first one's artist was out for the day. We found one and I got a scorpion on my hip, damn thing cost almost fourty bucks. I need to learn to do it myself. It turned out pretty cool though, nice and dark. I drove about half way back and my love drove the rest of the way. When we got home we brought all bags in and took a nap. We got home at fivish and i slept til nine. Oy. So yay, we finally took our beach trip after a year of saying we wanted to. I brought home a few shells and have a henna tattoo to show for it. It fun, even if it was short.
M.

Personal Degradation

A few days ago I saw a girl I had to write about, I didn't do it when I got home that day and I forgot again after that, but I still remembered from time to time over the last few days.
Have you ever seen something you knew was real but couldn't quite believe it? That's what I felt like looking at this girl.
She had too much eye makeup and overdone nails, I don't remember what her shoes looked like but I could barely stand to look at her. She was wearing gray knit shorts that were shorter than any I had even seen anyone wear in public and a bright pink shirt cropped off just below her breasts. Everything about her literally screamed 'trashy', in fact her shirt had that tootsiepop owl on it and the message 'Lick three times and bite.' I found it unbelievable that someone could degrade herself that much simply with the way she chose to look.
I have always been someone who holds judgement based on appearance aside and wait for a person's actions to speak for thier character, but to dress herself like that was an action I couldn't put my mind passed to think that she could be something other than what she obviously intended to put forth.
She just left me with an icky feeling for even having to look at her.
M.

Bang bang.

I fired a gun for the first time in my life today. It wasn't as scary as I expected, my elbows quaked a little but it didn't kick as much as I thought it would. I fired one fifteen shot round into a target and managed to hit it a decent number of times, maybe five misses. I want to get my aim fairly reliable. I learned how to clean the gun too, a Glock 19, brand new and stiff.
I was nervous about the idea of it, touching it, having it around me. Philosophy contrasted gut feeling, but now that I've seen it all taken to bits I can feel as well as I think that it is just a tool, a piece of metal and plastic, made for an end that its user dictates. In the hands of smart, good, strong people there is nothing about it to fear.
I picked blackberries on the edge of fields, and missed the country and nature terribly. It has been so long since I was outside at night somewhere without lights. I miss the smells and tastes of the seasons passing.
I picked a dozen ticks off of myself and my boy when I got home, one thing I haven't missed, and washed the poison ivy off my skin.
Then I went to work. Not enough people were working and the ones who were there were not the best ones to close with. I didn't have watch on so I didn't prompt the office assoc. to do the right things at the right times to get us out of there on time. No body walked the store to put things up and look for out of place items, they ended up keeping the stockers late so they could do it. And when it was down to me and one other cashier she left her register and stood around while I checked out the last customers and tried to clean up the front as well. When I asked her to clean off the registers for me since I was still working my register she wiped a little at the one in front of me and then left and I had to completely wash down her register and the reemaining ones and empty all of the trash. Very few people at my store actually do there work and make an effort to have some teamwork. Maybe two or three in each position, a few cashiers, a few office people, a few baggers, and a few managers.
Hell, I know none of us get paid much for the shit we have to do, but that doesn't mean you can't have a little self-respect and care about your coworkers.
Anyway, I'm home now. But I have to work tomorrow, so boo. I have to finish my chores tonight, but I'm gonna goof off a little first.
Play some WoW, rehydrate my body from this hot day, fall asleep on my keyboard.
Sweet dreams internet land.
M

Consuming Myself in Flames, Ignored

I want him more than he wants me, and it hurts to know it. Maybe this is what love becomes for a guy. Maybe this roaring in my heart is supposed to dull to a purr, but it doesn't want to. When he pulls away from me it breaks me heart a little. When he asks me to get off his lap after he's been on the computer all day and i'm missing him. Or when he says we should get some sleep when I kiss him goodnight. The way he moves my arm off of him and moves away from me in bed, every time he turns his back to me it breaks my heart a little more.
And still he does sweet things for me, still he says he loves without being prompted, still he wants me now and then and misses me when I'm gone for any length of time. But it doesn't feel the same.
He can keep his hands off of me, he doesn't love me more than once in a night, he doesn't tremble for me, or look at me quite the way he did.
My expectations are high, my desires strong, but how can that be a flaw?
M

Humans.... whatever

My life has changed so much from less than a year ago. I now have very few friends, and many people I call friends who I know aren't really friends to me. I have my lover, and Shadow, and one old friend who still does her best to keep in touch with me and misses me terribly. All of the others either dilliberetly don't contact me or have simply forgotten that I exist. I have me part in it, I was busy for a long time, getting used to being on my own and learning my job. None of them tried to get up with me in that time. And now that a year will have passed this month and some of them spoke of meeting up and never followed through with it, I feel like it's the right thing to do to let go. it still makes me a little bitter, but time changes things, life changes things. I have two friends now, that's better than none.
Last month one of my old friends birthday passed me by. I thought about him the day before, and the day of I thought of calling or sending a card or emailing, but I ended up thinking of him all day and doing nothing to let him know it. I didn't even buy a gift and hang on to it for when I see him (if I see him).
Another friend was finishing up highschool, her mother was my friend as well. I didn't hear from them for a long time but I knew they were always busy people. Finally she contacted me and let me know when her break was, I told her tolet me know when was best to meet up and I'd work around her schedule. I didn't hear from her for a while, so I figured whatever, she'll let me know if she wants. Next email I got was from her to all her friends letting them know she was in Mexico and doing well.
All of these childhood friends and long time second mothers, I think it's time for us all to find our own paths. I need new friends, new points of view, a new life. As much as I have changed, I think they all still think I am the same girl I was years ago.
Anyways, I've got to go hop in the shower. Ta ta .
M

Quick Rambling

I'm about to go to work but I feel like blogging a bit in the next three minutes, hehe. So here are some random observations from the last few days...
The woods are beautiful, even those stuck between suburban streets.
I know a lot about botany and edible plants, more than I really think about knowing.
Spontanious shower sex isn't easy, some things aren't suposed to get rinsed away. (TMI I know :P)
Girls can too have stronger libidos than guys.
People are weird when it comes to sex.
Clouds are awesome.
Working just to break even sucks.
Now I'm going to be late, so farewell till tonight.
M

Walking Old Footsteps

I went to the arboretum seeking solice in familiarity, but that was not what I found by and large. I recognized the fence outside, some of the trees and plants along the road, but once I turned into the parking lot it was a different place. I remembered an enterance that made me feel like it was deserted, a zigzag enterance that was made for lines to form in, vines and plants crowding around to welcome as I came in. There were two buildings I had no memory of, one had a courtyard with a beautiful waterfall fountain and memorial bricks in the patio, and the other was a small visitors center with a bulletin board and pamphlets more like I remembered. There were horticulturists and interns from the college everywhere, planting, weeding, and mulching. Lots of new plants were being tended near the front of the arboretum and some places were blocked off for construction. I found some of the places I rememered being in with my mother, older gardens, some of them not yet woken from winter. The crepe mertles I had climbed in, that had been so old and towered so high, were gone. I found one, smaller and a little younger, in a little Japanese styled garden. I kissed its trunk. I found a garden with stepping stones over water that I remembered, and a garden with a platform gazebo who roof a tree trunk pressed through. And, happily, I found the rose garden. Full of buds and hopeful young leaves, one or two varieties were blooming. I'll have to go back later when more of them are open. There were so many redbuds and wisterias, I had no idea there were that many different kinds. Every breath brought me a dazzling combination of sweet smells. I was reluctant when I had to hurry home to feed my bird.
M

Madness

You are the wind whipping the tops of the trees. You are the beauty that sneaks up in me. You are the present that lives consumed in its glory without a thought of tomorrow. You are the rock love songs that make me smile and move my blood. You are a little bit of romance and a little bit of honesty, a little youth and a little wisdom. You are all I want, you fill my every waking thought and sneak through my dreams. You are the fire that consumes me, and the sea that washes my tears from me. You are the madness and the sanity, the disease and the cure. You are my love, my own dear heart.
For B.
M

Nevermind the Answer. What is the question?

This morning he asked me a question I had heard rolling around in his head for a while. I was catching my breath, waiting for my heart to find its proper pace, and I saw that look on his face. The look of words almost forming themselves in his throat. So I asked him and he said nothing, but then he asked me anyways. The way he said it is one of the factors, and I know I overanalyze. He said that since we were sleeping over so much we should move in together, and when I replied by asking him if he thought so he said why not, trying his best to keep it light. And I know why he does that, he tries to keep something important he says seeming only half serious because it would be too heavy to leave his mouth otherwise. I know from the way he's teased and danced around and alluded to the subject so many times that he didn't just bring it up without thought, he knew what he was saying. But that in itself makes me nervous, posing it lightly when it feels anything but. And I want to say in reply to his why not, why would it be a good idea? And the thing of it is, my fears aren't about him. Even the ones that have everything to do with him aren't about him. I've had so much heartache and my life has been in such turmoil that I don't know if I could heal from another upset, scars haven't finished forming from the last one. And I'm afraid of letting myself place him in my life as a constant because somehow I think if I do that then it will not be true. I'm a shy person, I even have a hard time voicing things to those close to me, and recent years have made no improvements on that. I don't know how I could keep him and love him as I want to, being this way. Many small things occur to me, I don't know where I want to work, or go to school, I don't know if I could adjust to his habits and he to mine. But he said, we have to find out. And I think he could convince me, if he realised it. Because I would love to trust that it was safe to fall asleep in his arms, cook breakfast together, plan our day together. I can't imagine anything feeling more peaceful. But there are doubts, and that fact alone is enough to stop me from daydreaming too wildly.
M

*yawn*

Yesterday I had my Entomology exam, I was still catching up a few hours before it. I was so nervous I threw up what little I had eaten. I did okay, I think so anyways, but I still felt like I was going to pass out about half way through it. I was more nervous than the first one, speaking of... I tied for second highest score with another student and got a mug. Whoop de do. And guess what the first highest score got? A mug. So yeah, I'm stark raving mad. I put things off until the last minute and then have to do them perfectly. I've pretty much submited myself to the fact that I'm going to fail my Genetics test. I have five lectures to watch, I don't have the course pack, and I only have myself to blame. But I'll deal. I'll study as much as I can and take the test, if I fail it then I deal with that.
I have a cramped or strained muscle in my back, right along my spine on the right side from my lower back to the middle. I'm not sure what I did to it. I think it might be my bed, it's a water bed and when I filled it I didn't make sure that all of the tubes were filled exactly the same so some are fuller and thus higher than others and I never bothered to even it out so i have peaks and valleys in my bed. I worked til close tonight and came home and submitted a genetics report. All of my projects are due at once, I think I'm going to get ulcers.
M

Oh, I'm gonna hurt somebody.

I am so pissed right now. Pissed at myself for not seeing it coming, for being slow, procrastinating, taking shit. I'm pissed at the world for being inconsiderate, apathetic, not listening or even caring. I let my studying fall, my fault. A month of studying in two classes that I need to make up in a week, two tests plus four assignments. All my fault for resisting, having other priorities, forgetting, and the other things I did. But then I go to get my work schedule. A coworker asks me to pick up part of a shift and I say yes. Then I get the rest of my schedule and thankfully I actually have not been scheduled for the day I asked to be off, but I have been penned in to take up shifts on two other days with having been asked. Both are days I do not have on my availability, one is a day on which I have a test, and neither have a managers initals. I am so. fucking. pissed. So this, the week I need as much time as possible to study, I am working five days instead of my usual three. What. The. Fuck. Sure I may be the resident pushover, I pick up shifts for people all the time, but it's not like I just happened to forget saying okay to this. I knew I had a test and stuff to catch up on, I didn't say I would do that. If I didn't honestly fear for my job, I would have stayed tonight til the manager who makes the schedule came in and fucking cussed her out. I'm tempted to just not come in and if they call me say, well I never said I would take those shifts. But I am a fucking pushover, so I will work the shifts. And after I catch up on my studies I'll track down a better job, quit and tell them what I think of them.
I hate that place, fuck.
M

Passing Stranger, Remembered

On my way home to get ready for work today I was stopped at a light wait for a break in traffic to turn left and a bicyclist went by. I knew her, or am fairly sure I did. I hadn't seen her since she was seventeen or eighteen, and I was probably fourteen or perhaps even younger than that. But she had the same face, round and seemingly made for smiling with lips to match. And I thought of that time, the time that I knew her. The friends I made then were not close, but they were good none the less. We lived and laughed together, briefly, and said we would see each other again. Many I did see again, and some I never did. But I remember how shining and happy those summer days were, as we went mad with stress and invented private jokes. I was possessed with an urge to follow her, find out if it really was her, but a car following her would frighten her and I was already turning. So I went home, comparing her face to the face I remember and becoming convinced that no random person could bare such a resemblance. So, hi Emma. It's been awhile, hope you're well.
M

Late Night Scribblings

These were written on Friday night, I think. Between eleven and two-thirty, so maybe Saturday morning.

Hate me, love me.
I know I should know the things I deserve. They tell me I should see how I deserve to be treated, to be loved. They can't see under my skin, they can't see the battle I wage to believe my own worth. I tell myself things I should already know and pretend they sink in. I try to stifle the jabs at myself as they surge up in mind. It's harder than they claim, you can't deny your own flaws. Sometimes you can't even see that they are more good than ill for your well being. Yet I feel powerless to stop doing what I don't like, feeling what I know isn't true. And I want to be the one to love myself like I should, but I can't lie and say that I do. I've wanted to tell everyone that I don't deserve them, especially him, but I don't know what reaction I expect. If they tell me how wrong I am I'm just a bitch fishing for a compliment, if they tell me I'm right then where am I? When most of those who once loved me seem to hold me in ghosts of memories, with fondness, I feel lost in the wilderness of who I've been growing into.


You wrap your arms around me and tell me I'm awesome, because it's the only word you can summon to compare to the way you feel. And what can I say to that, to thank and return that amazing feeling. What words can I find while you reach for the essence of that feeling and fall to the word you know. I can only smile and thank you, because I don't know the words either. I can only press them into you through my skin, hold your head to my chest, squeeze you close, stroke your hair. How can you ever ask me to let you go, I know I make it hard for you to even try. The devil in me says, why do something you don't want to? It would be so easy to hold onto you, all of tonight, and tomorrow too. So hard to learn to let you go.

Frusteration and Computer Glitches

Sorry for the lapse. Not that I had nothing to say for once, but my prefered browser decided to stop working with blogger. I can view my blog but I can't go to the blogger home page or sign in. So now I'm stuck using IE, booo. Anyways, the long awaited Puckster has finally arrived and I'm still at the point where I'm shy as hell of him. Which is funny because he is the same with me, Cherry says it's cute how similar we are. She was feeling sick and stressed out last night so I had her over and we poured affection on her to cheer her up. Love the girl, and I wish more people would tell her how awesome she is.
I wrote somethings on friday night while we were waiting for Puck to arrive and giving him directions. I'll post those in a sec. Giving people directions when you're sure where they are is stressful, for all parties. I still haven't talked to my beau about the way he has been acting, my supreme cowardice is slitting my throat once again. If I knew what would make me more bold, even if it would be painful or scary, I'd do it in a moment. But I don't think there is a quick fix, I have to fight to change myself. Not with people, not with myself, it's more like a battle to climb a seep hill. I have to fight the forces at play, ones in me and ones around me. I know I can do that, I just have to make myself believe it to the bone.
M

Somebody Tell Me I'm Stressing Over Nothing, Please?

I don't need another man in my life who doesn't do what he says or pay attention to me. What the fuck is he thinking? When he says he'll call me does he just forget? Does he get distracted? We had plans today, not just a vague understanding that he would call me and we would hang out. We were going to go somewhere and do something. 'I'll call you in the morning.' His exact words, not that he was really paying much attention to the conversation, but that's what he said. It's almost three in the afternoon now, and it kills me that I've actually been waiting around for his sorry ass. I got a message from work, I could be making a living right now, But I thought he would call me. I'm way too pissed at him to call him right now, and I don't plan on contacting him if he doesn't contact me. Next time I do hear from him, he's in for it. I see him online, he hasn't messaged me, but it makes it obvious that he's sitting there fucking around on his computer while I'm getting progressively more angry with him. If he keeps this shit up after I call him on it then he will fall from my graces, I think this is going to be our big fight. It will be the first and last if he doesn't get his head right.

Stupid boy, I've spilled too much blood, given too much of myself, and cried too many tears over you for this shit.
M

Smoke from the Ears, Made by Friction not Rage.

I have nothing to say really, so here comes a whole lot of nothing.
My guy doesn't get it when I'm waiting for him to stop playing computer games and notice me. Waiting for him to think about inviting me to see him. Price I pay for dating a dork, too distracted to notice what's on the menu for the evening. Of course I'm as bad as him, I could step into the pause were he's focusing on his computer to invite him over, or invite myself to see him. But I see him alot, and I really don't want to be clingy or pushy. For my part, I need to leave him be if his head is elsewhere, I feel guilty enough for draining away hours of his life without inviting myself where I'm not wanted.
He just has this innate way of messing up my head and not knowing about it. I get off of work early and call him up and he's not in the city, fine. So he calls me when he gets back and I miss the call. I finally get back to him and he's only half paying attention to me while I'm talking. He doesn't mean it, but it happens all the time. And when I've been free for hours and am starting to think about all the things i really ought to do instead of wait around for him to be free, and then he doesn't seem to have any interest in spending time with me, it grates my nerves a tad. I know I'm insane, I need to get a life, focus on the right things. I shouldn't be waiting around for him in the first place, much less letting it bug me when he doesn't do the same. I worked the morning and afternoon today, got off at five. I was expecting to be able to spend the rest of the day with him, looking forward to it. It bugs me that I'm not capable of making myself relax, I can't be by myself for a long time without fucking with my own head. I start to think about things I can only guess about, like the thoughts of others, or think about my shortcomings. I spending too much money lately, I can't seem to get through I day without spending five bucks on stuff that won't be around tomorrow. I'm not eating enough because I start to give myself issue with spending money and I have to spend money to eat, no duh. And all I can think about is falling asleep in his arms but I can't tell him that because I'm too insane to be that simple.
Brains need emergency brakes.
I still have this cough, it doesn't react to cough medicine anymore but it's not that bad. Just I bit of a pain sometimes. I got blisters from my walks earlier this week so all my toes are wrapped in bandages. I need to walk on rocks like I did when I was younger, I had tough feet. Maybe I'll take another walk tomorrow, in better shoes. I need to sleep, and take a shower. And my mind is starting to jump around in a kind of lazy random way that prevents me from saying anything of much use, so I'll stop rambling now. I really do need a life, and to able to handle myself without other people.
M

A Good Day, Kind Of.

I made some coffee with my new coffeemaker this morning, it was too strong. I don't really like coffee, I love the smell and I like the caffine, but the taste doesn't do anything for me so I drown it in sugar and flavorings. I'm the girl with the mint or raspberry mocha. I called my beau to wake him but I'd taken too long to get myself together so he was already up. I studied a little while he showered and then he came over to take me to lunch. We shared pancakes, french toast, eggs, bacon, sausage, and hashbrowns and stuffed ourselves. Then we went on a three mile walk. We weren't sure how long the trail was when we started but I suspected it was one my neighbor had mentioned to me. I was not wearing ideal clothes, dress sandals, pants long enough to catch under my heels, and uncomfortable underwear, but I passed up the chance to stop by my house. It was beautiful and sunny but not too hot. We hadn't brought any water and we worked up a sweat on the winding trail. I took us about an hour I think to walk the three miles, the path was wierd and we almost got lost before we finished the last half mile. Now I know how to get to that trail so I'll have to try to walk it a few times a week and bring my dogs. We went back to my house and had some popcicles to cool down, and then heated ourselves up again. I talked him into staying to shower with me before I had to go to work and still managed to go in a little early. At work I started to feel sick, my hands got trembly, I got a headache, and my stomach was unhappy. I figured out that I hadn't drunk much water after the walk or any beforehand. So I took a break and rehydrated myself and felt a little better afterwards. My head was still a little fuzzy and I still felt too warm but I managed til closing. Put back the reshops, cleaned off some registers, cussed about the cart worth of stuff people had stolen or broken and left hidden in odd places around the store, and came home. I finished a sandwich that was still delicious even though it was two days old (Satisfaction's, woot), and had some pasta and a little more coffee. I busted the filter, so it was crunchy coffee. Hehe, oh well. A piece of chocolate for my tired body, and now I have to go wash way too many dishes because I've been putting them off.
I feel good today, even though I made my body do too much this weekend and haven't been eating enough. I went to my folks sunday night and my dad said I looked skinny. He asked me what I'd eaten, and I actually hadn't eaten anything other than the dinner I had with them. Well, except for some fruit and snack food, which didn't count. So he and my stepmom ordered me to eat three meals today, and I did. The weather has been nice and I've been on some walks. I haven't seen my sweetie enough, which was making me a little upset, but after talking to him some earlier and my time with him today I feel better. One of my dogs is looking a little sickly, so I may take her to the vet sometime soon even if I can't really afford it. I don't remember if they need their shots this year or if it's next. I'll have to look at their medical records. My entomology experiment is mostly done, I have to ID something and write a few final entries in my log. I just had a genetics test postponed, yay-ish. That class bugs me to no end. I don't hear anything from the professor or TA until two days before something is due or if there's bad news about something. The notice that the test was postponed was sent four times at once. I have no faith in these people, and I just know their making several times more than me. At least I do my crappy job well and can communicate effectively, they miss both marks. Good thing my other professors are so cool or I'd lose faith in educators, since the last batch was rotten too.
I love my parents.
And my stepfamily.
And my crazy friends, even the ones I don't hear from.
And my beautiful boyfriend.
And my sweet pets, even the fish who likes to try to eat people fingers.
And most of the folks over at GT, especially god himself, and the crazy man who says crazy things that make me want to hug him.
And even my stupid, ugly, insane, obsessive, smart, slobbish, beautiful, wonderful self.
And maybe you too, whoever you are.
M

Crazy Girl

I don't know what he's thinking a lot of the time. That's kind of a big deal to me, to know someone and love someone and not know why they do what they do or what they really think of me. I'm scared of everything, fact is I'm a coward. But little things he does have been scaring me. The pauses in our conversations on the phone have grown longer, while I wait for him to decide what he wants. He doesn't seem to know whether to end the conversation with a good night or an invitation to see him. He doesn't seem to want me as much anymore and I feel wrong being the one to expect and want sex when he doesn't. When I'm in his bed holding him and he sends me home so he can sleep when I haven't been with him in a week I have no idea what to think of it. It comes to a point that makes me frustarated, where I feel like I want him more, where I feel like I'm almost tryng to get his attention in vain. He doesn't call me if I don't call him, I used to wake him up so he wouldn't sleep til noon but now he works more so I can't do that all of the time. He says he'll call me and doesn't, and the next day he says he'll call me to see if he can come over and I don't hear from him. I leave him to sleep when he hasn't had enough rest and has the next day off and he doesn't call me when I wait to make sure he gets all the sleep he can. Tiny scraps of worries are weaving themselves together, even though I fight to tear them apart. I'm not the center of the universe, and I'm obviously not in his head with him. I have let go, he has his reasons, his thought patterns, if I try to guess then I'll only come up with outlandish ideas that make me more afraid.
I want him too much, I can't let myself need him and it's getting dangerously close to that. I can't let him be everything, I can't rely on him so much. I don't want to turn him into another crutch. I just have to speak to him, be honest, ask for what I want, and keep him at the right distance.
M

Dogs and Dreams

I just got back from an hour and a half walk with my dogs. I took them to Duke Gardens. If you know my dogs, the gardens, and kind of day it was, then you'll see it was asking for trouble. Don't get me wrong, I love my dogs, the gardens are beautiful, and it was a lovely day, but the combination was off. My dogs are sweeties, one loves people and dogs and chasing anything that moves and is smaller than her and is also more than a little nuts. She's a Border Collie mix, she can't really help it. The other is terrified of people, and cars, and other dogs that act unfriendly, and is territorial and nervous. She can't help it, she was abused, and Chows don't tend to be well adjusted dogs anyways. So here I have one dog pulling towards people and animals and one pulling away, I have them on a twin leader to balance them out a little, they pull against each other instead of me. And then there are the gardens, they're lovely. Winding paths, open fields, duck and goose dotted ponds, fountains, gazebos, and plants, everywhere beautiful plants from all over the world. Lots of asian plants and things you can't find in every back yard. And today, it was warm but not hot, a little overcast, and breezy. So the gardens were full of people, lovers laying on blankets in the sun, mothers showing small children flowers, college students playing frizbee and ball and walking around, people walking their dogs, people talking in the shade. So my chow was freaking out, as we got farther from home on the walk there she started to get nervous and once we got there she was pulling away from people or just refusing to move if they got too close. She's a beautiful dog so everyone wants to stop and comment on her, they really want to pet her fluffy head and look at her almost human eyes but she doesn't want them anywhere near her. And then my border collie is pulling towards people, wanting to meet other dogs and get her head scratched. But above anything else, what she really wants to do is chase things, squirrels, ducks, geese, smaller dogs, songbirds, fish, frogs, rabbits, anything that will run away from her. So after the half hour walk to get there and walking around the outer edge of the gardens, fighting the dogs to move forward and not chase things and stay on the paths as much as possible, which I'm guessing was another half hour but I didn't pay very close attention, it starts to rain. Turns out that overcast sky meant business. So now people are hurry, horror of horrors, running, towards the exit. And I can't get my dog to move at all. She pulls off into a flower bed and sits down. So I stop and reassure her, because I have a ways to walk so I'm going to get wet anyways and it's not her fault that people freak her out. So I wait for a gap in the outgoing crowd and move forward a little more. A family in front of me notices my dear little chow and slows down to look at her, speaking to each other in chinese. We near the gate and she pulls me off the path and refuses to move. So I wait for another bigger gap and get through the gate. From there to the street isn't far and then it's just cars and rain and crossing the road back and forth to stay on the sidewalked side till we get home. I poured them a great big bowl of fresh water when we got home, they're good dogs, my silly babies. I feel like I got a complete work out, between walking so far and using my arms and legs to wrangle the dogs.
I worked a short shift this morning, picked up one from someone who wanted to go home for the weekend. Four hours feels insanely short after nine hours on your feet a few days prior.
I had a weird dream a few nights ago, it was a really long dream.I don't remember a lot of the details now but there were lots of zombies in it. I was in a house that had several floors of basement that were all crumbling and dusty and wooden, but the upper part of the house was brick. The basement had a big open middle that spanned a couple of stories, like a grand ballroom almost. Thinking of it now the house was pretty much structurally impossible, but whatever. There were zombies at the beginning of the dream that weren't that mean or scary and they spoke and remembered who they had been and didn't try to attack me. But the more of them there were and the deeper into the basement I went the more danger they became to me. Eventually I knew I had to burn the house to destroy them, and I knew that the upper stories of the house would be fine and it wouldn't collapse. So I started burning things, and the zombies got angrier. To the point where I was having to burn them as they came at me and they were trying to keep me from escaping the fire. But I wasn't really that scared of the zombies, even though they were pretty creepy looking and they did want to kill me. They just didn't seem all that bent on it, more like animals of darkness disturbed than flesh eating undead.

Pain and Prattle

My rib is killing me. Two days ago I coughed so hard something didn't go back into place on my left side, for the first day it only hurt when I coughed. I haven't been coughing much, but now it's started to hurt when I move, or lie down, or take a deep breath. I was cuddling with my sweetheart on the couch and I briefly had that side across his leg. Big mistake. One of those things where an injury is not too bad so you don't pay attention to it and you make it worse. I almost couldn't breath from pain when I was getting out of bed this morning. I have to work tomorrow morning, that should be fun. Twisting and lifting with my side like this, it's only four or five hours though, I'll live. But this thing had better heal on its own because there's nothing I can do for it, it's not like I can stop breathing, or even just stay off my feet. At least the cough seems to really be letting go now.
I was checking out my hit counter and apparently only three out of about twenty hits have actually stayed around for more than a few seconds. How can you have a zero second hit? Why do they even count that as a hit? It's not like a page can be viewed in that amount of time. Most of my hits are coming from New York and DC, I also had a few people from out of the country. England, Scotland, India, and Honduras, one hit each. As far as I know only one person who knows me has seen this site. I can't believe anybody else would bother to read it.
Tonight I'm taking the left overs from my fabric sale to the RMO yard sale, donating it for them to sell tomorrow. They're selling it to raise money for a woman who needs cancer treatment, I figure I can't ask for much better than that. And it will probably stay in the community and be used well.
I have a test to study for, but I don't have any will to do so. I have to try, I can't just say I don't want to, that's not how it works. Soo tempting though.
M

I see

I notice everything about him. The fleck in his left eye, the shape of his nose, the freckles on his back, his beautiful arms, his mouth, his ears, his hands, his shoulders, his stomach, his neck, his legs, and hips, I can hardly take my eyes off him. I can recreate him if I close my eye, a deep breath will put me in his arms, a sigh will bring me his smell. I also watch the way he moves, and the way he thinks. I can move to meet him and guess his words before he says them. I thank the heavens he doesn't know how crazy he makes me, because people shouldn't know how perfect they are. There would be nothing left to strive for.

Lost Transits of Atlantis

Yay. My dear, dear friend has a blog too. So go give her some hits, eh? *cricket* Or not....Lost Transits of Atlantis

M

The Story of the Day I Changed (not for the faint of heart)

It will be three years ago this April, six months and about twelve hours from my birthday, a Sunday, the day my mother died. We were driving home from a farm tour, my father driving, my mom in the front seat, me directly behind her, and farming stuff we had gotten on the seat beside me. We were talking and laughing, playing a car game and listening to the radio, I think my dad was winning the game. It was seven, early dusk for the region and time of year, it would be a few hours til it was really dark. A deer came down the slope on the other side of the road, running into the oncoming lane. My mother saw it a warned my father, he started to brake. An on coming car came around the slight curve and hit the deer, an SUV. The was launched into the air towards our car, twisting as it flew. I saw it's eyes. I blacked out on impact, I felt the glass and blood fly around me, but through a haze, and I didn't see anything. When I opened my eyes my father asked if I was okay and looked at my mother. He yelled her name. The chair had been flung back and the deer was on top of her. There was blood everywhere. My father started to opeen his door, the car was rolling, it had been partically stopped when the deer hit us. He put on the parking brake and pulled the deer off of her, into the road. He came around and started trying to see if she was breathing, trying to clean her off so he could revive her. He tried to use the cell phone in the glove box but the batteries were dead. He shouted to the stopped cars and someone had already called for help. The paramedics didn't take long to get there, I don't remember how long my father tried before they got there. I sat in the car trying to hold my mother's head still while the paramedics worked on her and tried to get her out. She wasn't breathing at first, but then she was choking for air. I stayed until I couldn't stand it, til fear was making me clostraphobic in there. I got out of the car and went to answer questions with my father, give information about medical history and what happened. I started to feel overwhelmed again and sat down on the pavement. A paramedic helped me up and took me to an ambulance, they took my vitals and asked me if anything hurt and such while I tried to watch what was happening with my mother. They air lifted her to the nearest hospital while I was in the back of the ambulance. A trooper told us we should go home and get cleaned up, that we wouldn't want to come like we were. Blood spattered and glass coated. A neighbor took us home and my father told me to get in the shower. I cried there, washing the glass from my hair, I started sobbing so hard no sound would come out. I was so scared. After my shower, while my dad washed himself off, I put together things for my mom to wear. A new pair of shoes, clothes, an old pair of glasses. I remembered seeing her glasses, one lens broken, in the back windshield of the car. We drove to the hospital and saw the trooper who had been at the scene, he told us people were looking for us. My dad asked why. I think he found the doctor, or maybe not, I don't remember. Anyways, one of them told us she hadn't made it. I tried to crumple there in the hall, I hadn't even let myself fear it for more than a second. my father caught me and they took us into a side room, tissues on every table. That's what this room was for. We waited, a chaplain came and we sent him away again. Neither my father nor I are relgious. Doctors came and took us to another room and explained what had happened. Massive trauma to her entire torso, she stopped breathing in the helicopter and didn't start again, they tried to drain blood from her lungs and revive her but it was just too much damage. They had some paper work to fill out, asking us a few things, the woman who filled in the cause of death asked if it was all from a deer. At some point someone gave me water and I drank it. They took us to see her. She looked yellow and too still. they had cut her clothes from her and cleaned her up, she was covered in a blanket. There was blood underneath her and on the floor. Her hands were still as soft as always, but there was no warmth in her cheek when I kissed it and told her I loved I her. my father stroked her hair and told her he was sorry. A friend of ours, my mom's best friend, her daughter my best friend, were called to drive us. I forget what point they arrived at, but I remember the look of shock on my friend's face and I remember her sitting with me in one of the rooms while my father talked to someone somewhere else. There was a counselor there, she talked to me and I think my dad too, she asked me a few things about my mom. I remember when she asked me if I needed anything and I said I was fine she said no you aren't. It shocked me, but it was very, very true. She told me the things people will tell you when you're in pain, people who've dealt with people in pain and know what needs to be said. She told me and my father to take strength in each other before we left. Our freinds took us to there house, I think it was my choice, but it might have been both of us. My father made calls, to family and such. I cried so much I eventually ran out of tears and just sobbed. When we went to bed my dad went to sleep in the guest room and I couldn't decide if I wanted to be with him or not. I lay down in my friend's room but couldn't sleep, I ended going and sleeping with my dad. I don't think i really slept much, but I listened to him breath, and snore, for most of the night. As long as that sound continued I could be okay, or at least hold together enough. After the first bout of crying, the week or two were everything hurt even just being, I didn't really cry much. I never have been a person who cries. We stayed there for a few days, my father conducting arrangements, me just trying to catch a clear breath and be with him. Evetually we went home, I think we slept in the same bed when we went home too, I couldn't bear to be on my own. Family came and stayed with us before the memorial as did a friend of mine. At the memorial I met lots of people my mom had known who I hadn't and people who I had known who I hadn't seen in a very long time, some who hadn't met her but had heard a lot about her or had only known her briefly. I was told by someone there that I was a woman now, that I would shocked at how this would make me grow. And I have been. It changed me more than I know, more than anyone around me can see. I think about her all of the time, even when I don't really notice it. For the longest time I kept a list of everything I needed to tell her that she had missed, and I probably still do on an unconcious level. I hope I have the best of her in me, and I wish she could see me. The things I have and will do, the advice I need from her, I wish she could be there for all of it. It hurts to think that some day when I have children I'll have to tell them about a grandmother they can never know. As I experience things for the first time I think about how I wish I could talk to her about it. I'll never stop missing her, but I'll never stop being thankful for her either.
I'll have to check for typos after I dry my tears.
M

Lesson 1, School Sucks.

I'm not the studious type. I get good grades, I freak out if I don't, and I try to do the best I possibly can, I just really don't like it. The whole classroom environment, tests, deadlines, assignments, lessons, remembering the right facts, I just really don't enjoy it. The first semester of college courses I took had me so stressed and agitated that I cried till I could barely breathe and stayed up late into the night til my eyes wouldn't focus several times. I said I wouldn't do it again, but here I am. I don't hate this like I did that, these classes are a little more interesting. But I'm still not thriving in them, I still don't enjoy it. One class bothers me more than the other, I don't grasp the material yet, the professor and his assistant don't communicate with the students, and I don't really find the subject matter that interesting. If I hadn't had to I wouldn't have taken classes this semester, but I did what was asked of me. And I'll probably do it again next semester if it's asked of me. But I don't want to go through college, even if I think a career path that would require college would interest me I don't think it's worth it to me personally. People tell me how I will fail in life and not make any money and be a loser if I don't go to college, but that's really not the truth. Sure maybe if I wanted the kind of job that would benefit from that, if I had a dream of a driven career, then that would be the thing to do. But don't want that, I want to do lots of different things, I want to start something all my own and make my life something unique. That might sound ridiculous to some, but it's not that I don't think a college education is valuable it's just that I don't think I would benefit from it, at least not right now.
But I have to go study now, so more later.
M

Yet Another Long Day

I got up at 6:30 this morning, that coming off of tenish the past few days. I should say I dragged myself *out* of bed at that time I was in and out of sleep since a quarter past six and waited til I absolutely had to get up and get ready for work. I even managed to get in exactly on time, and wait five minutes for the manager to get there. I had a horrible hacking cough all day at work, I couldn't raise my voice loud enough to get people's attention or communicate with the deaf little old ladies. When I left they were undermanned, but I couldn't stay much longer then I was scheduled for. I only stayed fifteen minutes past when I was supposed to leave. I came home and thought really hard about what I had to do and what order I should do things in. I fell asleep sitting up reading my email and crawled in to bed for a nap. I set myself a fourty minute timer at around 3:40 and then slept fitfully til 5:00. I kept waking myself up coughing and asking myself how much time I needed to do things and which ones were most important. My body held final say by dropping me back into sleep just as I would decide to get up. When I finally did get up I took some medicine, started some laundry, and hastily edited and submited the paper I had due today before getting ready to go to my folks. By the time I called them and got myself cleaned up and out the door it was after six. I got there and hung out a little, had some of my dad's spectacular pizza and headed off the women's sohbet with my stepmom. I tried not to hug anyone too tight so I wouldn't spread as many germs and I couldn't sing because of my throat. But everyone was as sweet as always and I sang for my favorite illahi even though it hurt. It's funny, I'm not a religious person at all, in fact I have a certain bitterness about religious people piling their crap on me, but these folks never do that to me. They are very kind, they never pressure me about anything, and the things they say about their feelings and spirituality actually border on making sense. I have a sufi name and they all love me dearly, I sing with them and wrap myself in the blanket of their affection and extend the same to them, but I never have to worry about confusing that with sharing their beliefs because they never ask that of me. They ask me to come, they say they want to see more of me, they ask how I am, but they don't ask anything I am unwilling to give.
Anyways, I stayed out too late and my cough was building on me, my stepmom and I finally said our farewells at half til midnight and I got home at a quarter til one. And now I'm going to bring my dogs in and load up on blue-green cough medicine before crawling back into bed til I-don't-care-when tomorrow. Sweet dreams.
M

Games

Does she really think just because she doesn't see me cry it means I don't feel any pain? Is it really that I betrayed her, or is it that I stepped out of her control? Others have characterized her actions as those of a spurned lover, I have to say that that is how she sounds. It's always the same thing, I'm far away so she can't mope around for me to see. So she stays angry for a long time, lets something slip to her mom, who says something to him. Then he'll call me up or talk to me, tell me I should try to talk to her. So I do, and she gets angry. I say something wrong, something that is honest but upsets her, she gets angry or just leaves. And if she knows that I'm talking to her because of someone elses concerns, then, oh then she get livid. She won't speak to me, the last conversation I thought was civil really wasn't. If I don't say exactly what she wants, or do exactly what she wants, then I'm not trying, I don't care, I don't love her enough. She has as much as said these things to me. All these games to push me away and keep me close, a blow up now and then to make sure I still know, and she still has a reason to be angry. I'm not playing this game. People who hear my side think she's crazy, one person who I've delved into every detail with has been in an abusive relationship and says that it was like this, like the way I feel.
I don't miss her, not being with the way she is now, I miss the way we used to be but I wouldn't go back to it. I won't live her expectations, I won't think the thoughts she says are right, act the way she likes, love her and no other. A person cannot be another person's god, it can't last.
And I still love her, because I can't not love her, but I don't want that back. And I won't do this anymore, I won't contact her if this is what happens every time. If she wants to contact me, fine. If she wants to bring attacks and whatever guilt she thinks she can create, I won't have it. I don't want to talk to her, because that isn't talking.
M

Another One of Those Days

I had my sewing sale yesterday. I made just shy of a hundred and fifty dollars, but I still have a ton of stuff left over. I've been trying to figure out what to do with it, with some ideas from my stepmom and my dad. Hopefully I'll at least be able to give it to somebody who can use it even if I can't sell it. I'm falling behind in my studies a bit, trying to catch up on that today. Maybe I'll review some of the stuff I didn't get on me last exam, DNA seems to be evading my comprehension a little. I was starting to think I might get it before the test informed that I really didn't. Oh well, nose back in the books I guess.
I've been a little sick the past few days, today I can't barely talk because of my throat. I didn't answer the phone because I knew I wouldn't be able to be understood by the person I was talking to. It feels like it's letting go though, maybe I'll be better tomorrow. My stepmom rearranged my furniture and cleaned up my livingroom when she was here yesterday, she asked me if I had any pictures to put up. It looks like it needs some now that it's so damn tidy in there. Haha. She's a sweetheart, all of my family is. I guess I got lucky like that.
Speaking of, I've been expecting to see my sweetheart and not getting to for quite a few days in a row now. I'd be able to deal with not seeing him if I didn't have my hopes up before hand. He said he'd call and come over and hasn't a couple of times. If I don't see him tonight I'm going to be very unhappy, and he'll hear about it. I think I'm going to go pick up an expectorant and take a long hot shower before I get back to studying, but I have to get my work schedule today so maybe I should just make one longer trip before I get back to studying. Or I could just drink some tea and crawl back into bed... I hate being sick.

Sex Life, nothing explict mind you.

Some people can talk about sex in a normal voice in a public place, I'm not one of them. I turn pinkish and smile giddily, maybe nodding or mumbling comments if asked something. Even in private with friends I can't delve into intimate details, and there are some friends to whom I might not fully admit that I have a sex life. The person I don't talk about sex with whom I *know* I should is the person I'm having it with. We didn't talk about it before, we don't talk about it during and we don't talk about it after. Before we started having sex it was sort of understood that we were the others first, I know he was mine and I implied it, I think I was his but I haven't asked him. We've been sleeping together for a while, a couple of months, and my period has been an emense reasurance to me. It's funny how something can go from making you cranky to hopeful and comforted.
When we first started going out, he wanted me so much it was tangible, so much it scared me. He desired me so much that he would hurt me by mistake, kiss me too roughly or hold me too tightly, and I guarded myself from him to a degree. Now that he has me and he knows it, and I can let him know that I want him too and I'm not going anywhere, I'm much more comfortable. He takes cues from me and he has spent a night in my bed without anything happening. And it's not that passion has waned, it's more that care and love has grown. We actually have sex more than when we started to, and every time is even better than the last.
My major, nail-biting concern is that he doesn't protect me, but after a couple months without dire consequences I have to wonder if I inehirited my mom's fertility problems.

God, hope no one reads this. :P
M

Love and Logistics

A friend of mine is having problems with her boyfriend, she thinks they're going to break up. Looking at it from my spot on the sidelines is making me think. He is a lot like me, some of my weaknesses and strengths, and seeing her view and empathizing with her I see some things about myself. I understand what others don't like about me, I have more clarity on things I don't like about myself. I know the way she is, I know her strengths and weaknesses as well, and I wish he could see himself, and her, from the sidelines. Because she needs him, and I'm sure he needs her too, but she can't make him see what she's thinking and he won't do what she wants, but can't outrightly ask of him. It's odd, people are all so different, everyone is unique so they say, but we all seem to follow the same emotional patterns. We all seem to alienate each other in the same ways. We expect different things of each other from one moment to the next, we don't speak our minds in the blind belief that we are understood, or when we do we are angry that our thoughts come as a surprise. Sometimes I worry about my own relationship, not because I don't love my sweetheart, but because I have no idea how to handle being in love. I know the things I should change about my behavior, but it doesn't make it easier to face up to doing that. I don't say what I'm thinking, I don't have the courage to bring up what I agonize over in my head. I'm afraid of being loved too deeply because I don't know where that will take me, and I'm afraid I would let myself end up just along for the ride.

Death and Life.

My snake died yesterday. She was fine before that, crawling around, drinking, it was just about time for her feeding. But then, the next morning, curled up motionless. I had been fearing this, my lizard died a month ago, I've been feeling cursed, like it was only a matter of time before things started to die from being near me. She probably had no real affection for me, I admit that, but she was a sweet little creature and I did love her. If I knew what was wrong then I wouldn't be so hurt, if I could have at least tried to help then I wouldn't feel like I missed something. It has to be one of the worst things, having a being in your sole care die, being the god of something's immediate world and failing to live up to that responsiblity. I think I'm going to give up reptiles for a while. I used to be so good with them, but I hate this.

I was thinking last night, while I was working with things of my mother's, getting them ready to sell. I was thinking that I don't think I know anyone else who would admit that they wish they were more like their mother. Not because she was perfect and I worship her, but because her flaws were so small and her good traits were so beautiful. I'm certain that if she had lived to teach me to be the woman she was by example I would not have appreciated that, she had to be absent for me to see her. I realise I didn't really know who she was when I was a kid, I loved her very much, when I was little she was always my world and constant, but I didn't appreciate that and I didn't know her thoughts or the events of her past. Now I find things she wrote and painted and made, and I do feel close to her. I hope the things I love in her are in me, I hope that as I was with her before, I'm simply too close to see them.

M

The First Dream I've Remembered In Months

Just before I woke this morning I had a dream. One that I felt I had had before as a child. It was probably different then, my character was probably a child, it was probably set in the house I lived in then, but when I woke I was convinced I had dreamed it before long ago. I dreamed I came into a room, which was mine but I was not simply myself, and found my comrades around a great many tanks of snakes. My snakes. There were dozens of them, some I recongnized as real species, some patched together from reality. The lids of their tanks were all ajar and they were crawling around, some visiting other species some moving away from the table and bed they were on. I started trying to put them back and chastizing my comrades for releasing them. They gave an odd defense, I don't quite remember, the snakes had needed exercise, or asked, or something. The snakes almost spoke to me, but they made no noise. They were confused and trying to find their ways back to their homes. I put them back and as I was collecting the last someone burst into the room and opened fire on us with a machine gun. I hit the floor and watched as some of my comrads did the same, or fired back. I tried to protect the snakes and myself, some of my comrads fell doing the same. I pulled a lid to one of the tanks in front of me, knowing that the bullets couldn't pierce it. The woman firing at us focused on me and I moved the lid to block her as I crawled towards her. When she turned to fire away from me again I rose and struck her with my cover in the gut. She swung her gun towards me but didn't raise it. I struck her again on the shoulder and brought her to her knees. She looked at me and asked me why I had been able to defeat her when she had felled many of the expert agents I worked with. I responded that I was not an agent and raised my odd, light weapon to underneath her chin.
When I woke, I believed I had dreamed it before. I also realised how odd it was, almost campy. A hero weilding a plastic lid, who stops a slaughtering with a single blow? The snakes and blood and sounds, and the way my pulse was racing from the reality of it, were the only things to keep me from laughing my ass off at it.