Undeserving

When I am thinking darkly I give myself a reason to feel bad. If I've had a bad day, or someone has been unkind to me, or I have not been especially understanding. I become overly sensitive and snappy, I am cruel to those who deserve it least. I make what ever wrongs the day has left me stinging from my fault so I can loathe myself rather than feeling crushed and helpless. If someone hurts me I hurt them back doubly so I become the cruel one. I make myself all the more undeserving of what I have.

Birth

Tomorrow (today) is my birthday. I'm not counting myself as twenty-one yet because I was born at seven in the morning.
Here's what I plan for my birthday. Get up around ten, take my dogs for a long walk, even if it is raining. I'm thinking of going into the graveyard up the road, incredible with my love of them that I haven't done so before. Come back home and take a long shower, dress up for the day and start on my cake. I will bake the cake and frost it, then go pick up Shadow from work. She will decorate the cake since she has more flair for such things. We'll go get RL and head out to Umstead Park, meeting my father and stepsister there. The lot of us will hang out and have cake. I will, I imagine, be given presents. After these festivies have finished we will go to the nice Japanese resturant near my house and I will devour my weight in sashimi and sushi. Merriment will be had, I may have a drink, if they have sake or something else appealing, I may chose not to. If I don't have to work until noon the next day then RL will stay over and keep me up all night. Even if she does I will take my leave of the group in the evening and talk to my love for a while before the day is done. I will bask in the love I have, and revel in the day.
M.

Belief

I have been asked a few times what I believe, and have never had the chance to answer. So here goes. If this makes little sense then so be it.
I believe in chance and intention. That our wishes and fears have more hold in our lives than most see, but chance takes the rest. Intention will bring you your dreams, but chance may strip them and more from you or give you more than you dreamed. My intention have brought me much, as has chance. I believe, as I have since I was young, that there is something in the elements. Life is the only word that seems close, magic is a more common one. I do believe in magic, in some much as it can be applied to what cannot yet be explained. I don't believe in magical beasts, as much as I have tried over time. Dragons, elves, werewolves and the like do not dwell amongst us. As much as I have wished it. I have a concept of personality to things I do not really believe to be sentient. Like rain, the moon, trees, wind, and fire. I don't exactly believe in souls in the usual religious sense, but I believe the energy of a person exists after they die, since energy can neither be created nor destroyed, only passed from form to form. Whether that energy exists strictly in the tissue of their bodies or in a more ghostly form depends on my mood on a given day. I have seen and heard ghosts before, so I have a hard time completely laughing them off. I don't believe in rebirth, I don't believe the world is particularly just or unjust. I don't believe in good and evil, there is cruelty and kindness in the world but nothing and no one is all good or all bad.
I should be sleeping now, so I will cut this off. If I think of more I wish to say I will post an addendum to the subject.
M.

Bliss.

When I came into my father's house as soon as my stepmother laid eyes on me she asked if I was in love. I answered simply, yes. As I took a seat she remarked on how happy I looked, and when my father left the table she whispered questions she didn't want him to hear across the table. After dinner she and my stepsister and I went back into my stepsis's room and she asked me about the visit. I fould myself smiling broadly and repeat the same giddy phrases over and over. She told me she hadn't seen me like that over my ex, asked me everything she felt she needed to know. Then my father traded places with her and asked me questions about him sternly. I answered him til he could think of no more. I tried my best to convey how happy I felt.
When I described him to Shadow after I had met him and spent some time with him face to face as perfect, I did ot use the word lightly. It holds a great deal of power. A generally impossible goal, there is no perfect circle, no exact match, everything is always a few microns off. Yet as an idea it exists, and in my completely subjective heart, I feel it absolutely applies to him.
When I was with him and he had to pull away from me, it did not break my heart. For all that it hurt not to be able to be nearer to him, I felt no rejection in that action. I could hear in his voice, feel in his touch, and see in his face that if he had any other choice he would be squeezing me closer not asking for room to breathe. And while I wanted desperately to be near him ever second I could, the obvious fact made it far from an insulting thing to have to draw back from me. Every person who has ever pulled away from me in anyway in the past has wounded my heart, but he only made it ache. He asked me to talk to him, tell my stories while he couldn't hold me to him.
And as soon as he was able to bear having me close again he made up for those moments of distance. Being with him was as perfect as he himself. I think one major factor of that for me was how badly I was longing for him by then. His every touch was bliss for me. When he was inside me… to find the words. He amazed me, my body answered his as a perfect counterpoint, I wanted to scream my ecstasy to the skies. Perfect.
I miss him so horribly.
M.

D.

When I spoke to him last night he delared himself, in his own way, to be someone for me to fuck til my Mr. Right comes along. It pains me that he thinks that way. It seems like he has decided that I don't love him, I only want him and care about him. I barely heard from him for almost two weeks after I returned home from visiting him, a few text messages were exchanged and emails, but we didn't talk online or on the phone. I would text to see if he was avilable for a call and he would not answer til I was sleeping or not able to call. When we finally spoke for a few hours on the phone he implied halfway through the conversation that he had not decided if we should be just friends or friends and lovers, at the end of the conversation he said he wanted me to visit again. I allowed him this, the freedom to choose what would pass between us, I decided to go and see him, love him in what time I had to do so, and give him the choice of what it would be to him and where it would go from there. I think that he loves me more than he likes to, and that he tells himself it's something platonic with a side of lust so it doesn't scare him. I think he is afraid of losing me and has let me go before he can do so. I don't know what to say to him about it, because I know I'm not the woman for him really. I would cause him pain if he loved me as I think he wishes he could.
I love him, but we are both the kind of silent protector that tries to help another grow while swallowing our feelings. He even moreso than I it seems. So far it's not working out well for the conbination for us two.
Also I suspect he has jealousy in him, and I simply don't want to be possessed by one person, currently at least.
M.

CENSORED

If I censor myself for fear of the feelings and thoughts of others than I will live a life of silence and isolation, no matter how many people I surround myself with. All my life I have been quiet, but even moreso since the death of my mother. The behavior of those around me made me withdraw. With some it was to protect them from seeing me in pain, with others it was because they made it plain they wanted to pretend everything was life as usual. For my father's sake I put froth the strongest face I could gather, with my friends I did my best to carry on as normal, with those who were not afraid to see me fall to pieces, I cried. One of my best friends said she only remembered me crying once or twice in all our childhood, for her my tears were a sign of something terribly wrong in the world. I received a thousand unrealized wounds and betrayals during that time, some of them sit undigested in my mind because I do not wish to contemplate them. In my relationship with my former best friend I became more quiet, she could not tell my thoughts so easily. She was one of those who wished to pretend I was the same person living the same life. So I pretended for her. After things fell apart with her and I was together with my ex I shared more with him than I had with others for a few years. As he demonstrated that my opinions had no merit unless they were in line with his, or became argumentative if I told him I thought he was wrong or pointed out somthing I disliked of his behavior, I began to withdraw from him as well. And now, where I stand in the world with the people I am surrounded by, I still say little of what my mind wills. When I speak to my father I have a certain guard, not because he has any intention to hurt me, but because we have incredible ability to hurt each other, I feel I have to be a smart adult to make him not worry about me. With my best friend I do not wish to interrupt her right to her own sharing of pain with my idle thoughts. With my stepmother I can share my thoughts and feelings pretty freely becase she will listen and provide good counsel, insofar as I don't mind things I say being repeated to my father. Many of the other people I speak to have no capacity for serious conversation, so long as I keep my statements inane I can remain part of the flow of talk, if I try to raise an important question or share a serious thought everyone moves on and ignores me.
All I want is to speak, if it doesn't come out quite right everytime so be it. If I can make my mind known perhaps I'll be lucky enough to have a few of the right people understand what I mean.
M.

Traitorous Vessel.

I really shouldn't think that way, it's such an incomplete way to view one's self. But anyways, here I am waking after having clutched my belly and whimpered til I dozed off once again. Sometimes it's quite irksome to be female. Humans are such odd creatures. What other being could survive as a species if it's females were subjected to immobilizing pain every twenty-eight days? Couldn't we get anything really cool out of being the higher intelligence on the planet? Ok, I take that back, it was an idiotic thing to say. I'm just grumpy. I'm made more grumpy by the fact that this time next month I'll be at the beach. I don't want to deal with this nonsense on my vacation. I'm reminded of something I heard from a friend that she was told by her doctor aunt and experienced to be true, swimming in ocean water stops periods. I wonder if that's true, and I wonder why it would be so.
My body is no kinder to me than I am to it most of the time.

I hate the idea of body and mind as seperate things, but the idea is so common and it has been present in my world for so long I find myself using it's terms in spite of myself.

Sometimes I do things just for the hell of it, and ocassionally it is not an enjoyable spontaneity. Case in point, I decided to shave my pubic hair. If you know me, which few who might read this are likely to, you know this is a very odd thing for me to do even with some specific intent, much less just for the hell of it. I shave my legs only when I am annoyed by the hair or plan on wearing a dress or shorts. I tried shaving my underarms once and immediately forswore doing it ever again. I pluck a few rogue hairs but generally I don't dislike them enough to be bothered by them. I have an intense dislike of people who find it unfeminine or nasty for a woman to have body hair. It's in our DNA just like guys, so get over it. If I was intended to have hairless legs, it wouldn't grow there. And I'm terribly sorry, but I'm not enduring nicks and razor burn for anyone's approval, so society will just have to agree to disagree with me. Any man who would not want me for such a reason is not worth the skin that holds him together, and any woman who dislike me for it is no friend of mine. With these fierce opinions you might be baffled that I would do this, but I also hold that there's little I wouldn't try at least once in the right situation. Boredom and a nice new razor proved the right situation, so I tried it. My skin tends to be hyper sensitive and thin all over my body, so it was rather enraged with me immediately. Only now, about three days later, has my skin calmed a bit. I discovered some scars I did not realize I had, chickenpox scars I believe, and a mole I had nearly forgotten. Quite amusing to rediscover marks and recognise them like lost friends...
I hate the way it looks, and the way it feels is nothing special either. I've come to the conclusion that I could not fuck a woman with a completely shaved pussy. It's simply too unnatural and creepy looking. It would make me feel intensely pedophilic.
My mind is a rather strange place, I must say.
Enough body related ramblings.
M.

Connection.

My wireless seems to have left me for good. So no internets for me. I'm currently logging on from a library computer, and will have my own internet installed Saturday afternoon, hopefully at least. So cross your fingers for me.
*Not dead or missing*
M.

Regrets

I don’t tend to regret my actions. Not because I don’t make mistakes, or reflect on my deeds, but rather because before I do anything of any significance I consider it and decide what it might mean if it turns out to be a bad choice, or what the worst thing that could happen would be. So in the end, if something goes wrong I will have imagined, if not prepared myself for it. In the past when I have not considered the worst case or have found the repercussion to be worse than my worst prediction, what I have learned from that has been comparable to the pain it has caused me. I would not say worth it, but a valuable lesson nonetheless. I try to mark what I learn, whether it happens to be just a simple fact or a misstep of mine, or the issues of some one else pressed upon me. I try me best to see the reason and source of my troubles, I am quick to assign them to myself. For it is often my own inability to interact with people and understand them that puts me in the path of another’s issues or pain. Whether it’s my introversion or my lack of instinct that cuts me down, I am my own worst problem.

Face

Last night I had a restless night and woke incredibly refreshed. I rose a few minutes after my alarm went off ready to face the day. I had gotten into bed at half past two and had tossed and turned long after the rise of the sun. I sobbed, I had not done so in a while. Either four years or two, I’m not sure which is more accurate. It was one lone sob, an odd feeling to leave it hang in the night but I had no others to follow it. I thought about my feelings and events of my life. Not the overly traumatic ones really, just the ones I have not previously admitted to myself to be just what they were. I admitted anger, fear, affection, and self-hatred. I confessed that I had been treated in ways I never should have tolerated, that worse things had happened to me than I was willing to face at the time. I realized that I had made my fears come true for fear that they were not the worst that could happen. I acknowledged that I am the one person I can’t seem to forgive, I only forget my faults for long enough to find some new reason to beat myself down with them. I have not been loved as I should be by many people in my life. I have been forgotten, betrayed, left, and neglected enough that I do these things to others to prevent them from happening to me again. When people like me even after they get to know me a little I either do what I can to change their minds or remain silent to avoid doing so. I admitted my anger at many people in my life, including many I love. And confessed that I have no reason to despise myself as I do, quietly but firmly in the corners of my mind. I feel like it’s okay to take care of myself, to look myself in the eye. I am not someone so terrible, and what is wrong with me is up to me to face and change.

In an Ideal World, an Ideal Life.

I think common society would think be a bad person for the things I dream. Some of them at least. The future I dream for myself could almost be normal, almost. I envision the company I will run from my home, doing a few different things, perhaps employing a few people to help me. I imagine the house I will live in as having a big yard and filling with sunlight for a few hours before dusk. Enough room for me to cook wonderful meals for a house full of people, and have animals a children running amuck. I picture myself living alone, or with a few lovers and a child. I find myself imagining a daughter, though I would be pleased to have a son or daughter equally. I feel that a child of mine should be raised to honor all love, platonic, heterosexual, or homosexual. And to see all people by their actions more than their faces. I want to have the animals I've dreamed of having room and time for at last. I want to help people, teach them, and create things for them to use and admire. I want to have a yard with a big garden of fruits and vegetables and room to spare for open space and climbing trees.
I want so much, I fear not having the focus and ambition to create this life for myself.
M.

If I Were Not a Coward.

If I were not a coward I would have said every word I thought to him, no matter if it didn't come out exactly how I had thought it. I would call him when I'm not sure if he has the time or inclination to speak to me. I would ask him any little thing that entered my head just to hear the answer. If I were brave, I would know for certain if I like or love him. I would know if he and I can really, ultimately, get along.
But I am a coward, so I can only hope my intentions will out and he'll have patience with me in the interim. I can only hope his affection is enough to put up with me.
I have too much love in me and too little idea of what to do with it.
M.

Longing.

I've been reflecting on all of the best sex I've had lately. It's not good for my libido I must say. When I was still a virgin I masturbated a lot, now that those fantasies have some basis in reality I'm much worse. I have certain moments on loop in my head, just wishing I could relive exactly that feeling, that sensation, that intensity. I want to have sex on my couch and make him come three times and almost pass out myself, and just colapse trembling from that pleasure. I want to pin him down and fuck him until I orgasm for two minutes straight, and fall back in exhausted triumph. I want to yield myself with complete trust to having him inside my ass, and gasp til I can barely breathe and am unable to move for the intensity of that feeling. When I want someone I want them all the time, every waking moment. And when I have them I absorb everything of that moment with the knowledge that as fantastic as it is, the next can only be even more amazing. My body aches to be touched, my senses cry out for the feel and taste and smell of my lover. Alas, longing is so sharp a dull pain.
M.

How Odd.

I got home from my vacation late in the morning on Monday. Upon returning home to my apartment I greeted all my animals and they greeted me. My betta fish flared up his fins and gills and danced about to welcome me. Later that afternoon when I was checking on my rats in the same room I found him on the counter. He had been out of the bowl too long to rescue, he had already begun to dry up. It was a gallon bowl, with a good two inches between the water and the lip of it. For all the time I had spent watching him swim about and build his bubble nest I had never seen him jump out of the water even when riled. My poor fishy. Rest in peace, Bootsy you nutty fish.
M.

You Know I'm No Good.

The only person who believes me when I say I'm evil is my best friend, she knows it, she and I are of the same mind, she's seen it, and I trained her in my ways. The rest laugh at me when I tell then, wide eyed, that I'm trouble. They'll call me cute, dismiss my warning. But I'm a heartbreaker, not that I intend to be. I'm too easy to love, too willing to love back. I will hurt them without planning to, and shed not a tear. No matter how my heart writhes in my chest. Maybe it's just my own unique damage, for often it seems my fault is loving too much, caring too much. I'd rather break someone's heart outright then stab them in the back a little more each day down the line, at least this way I can stay up all night and fix it a little. I have too many men swooning over me, and countless more who simply want me, it's a dangerous thing.
It's not a good thing, they can't tell I'm a bad woman, and I only go for good men.
M.

Georgous Uncertainty.

In less than a week I leave on a plane to visit a man I have never seen face to face before. I have known him for about six months on the web, talked to him online for hours, and on the phone for hours on top of that. I don't feel that he's a stranger at all, but I am aware that I don't know him well. I have no hesitation in this, no doubt about what I'm doing. If I am with him for a little less than a week and he decides I'm not what he wanted me to be, or I decide he's not as remarkable as I was convinced he was, than so be it. Better to know, better to know his smell and taste and feel and never know it again than to ache for him and never know. If it makes me a bad woman to do what I do and choose what I choose, than I can live with that fact. I don't have to be good, I don't have to live as I'm expected to. I won't regret my misdeeds, but I shall learn from them always. He's so beautiful, not just in body, but in mind and heart, that I know however long I'm allowed with him will be something I cherish. I can work out the future once I know more than the simple, blinding fact that I want him.
So here's to latest adventure in this little life of mine.
M.

I'm Only Easy on the Internet.

Ok, so that's a complete misnomer, I don't think I would ever call myself easy. What I mean to convey is that the internet is such a easy place to live dangerously, no one can touch you, your actions don't have to come back on you. And there are so many people, sometimes it feels like you can get all the world in one room having an intimate little chat. Because there are so many people who can feel free to express what ever they wish I find that there are numerous people I would love to have the chance to fall for out there in the world wide web. Sadly none of them are extremely close to my physical location, and in fact some of them are quite far away. People often caution that someone you meet on the internet will probably either turn out to be not at all as amazing as you hoped, or to be a psyco killer/rapist/freak. I have a friend in real life who I first knew on the internet from a great distance away, and he's just who I believed him to be, I've known people for long periods of time via the internet and considered them as much friends as those I saw face to face regularly. I'm not an easy woman to get, but I can be an easy woman to love, the thing I find the most endearing in another person is how much they love me. That's not all it takes to win my affection, but it's a big weakness of mine. These people I adore, part of my affection towards them stems from the look on their faces when they speak to me, or the warmth in their voices.
M.

The Same Words, Again and Again.

I have finished moving out of my old place, the lease ended last Saturday and I was there until midnight cleaning without power or company. What a way to end things. My ex provided little to no help with the clean up and waited till the last minute to have his stuff out of my way for me to clean the place. Typical. When he was there he hovered over me and watched me, stared at me more accurately, and occassionally said random innane things that he seemed to consider chitchat. Shadow told me she didn't want me alone with him, ever. Puck made fun of him and grumbled about him, in turns. I'm just happy to be free. I've been asked about the details of why I left him by a few people, mostly ones who don't know me too well, and I really can't go into it. It makes me too uncomfortable to go over, Shadow knows the details, and Puck in so much as she has told him and I have told him which is probably not all of it. Both of them would react violently if he were to try to touch me, let alone harm me. My father and stepmom don't know the details, they know some of it, what I could handle telling them, but they will probably never know some of the deails. It may be healthy to speak your trials, but that's only true if it won't cause you more harm than good to do so. And I will talk about it, when I'm far enough away from this moment to feel safe recalling it. Until then I have my life to carry on with.
M.

Happenings.

I've just returned home from work and am quite tired, but I feel like rambling about recent goings on in my life regardless. At lot is happening at my workplace right now, but none of it seems particularly good. We got a new assistant manager and I already don't like her, both of my team leads were fired and/or forced to quit (one was arrested. craziness), and several other new employees have been hired. I have only met two of the new people, one I immediately deemed rude because she neither greeted me nor introduced herself to me, and the other seems nice enough but is already seeing how much working there sucks so I fear she'll leave even having just started. My store manager is a jerk, to the extent that my customers tell me they're sorry for me. My assistant manager can't seem to manage mornings worth a damn, she comes up with the worst order to do things in and makes time consuming suggestions while doing nothing herself. The floor crew seems to think she's ok, but I don't think she's good for the front of my store. I'm going to talk to the vet one of the team leads I lost suggested and see if I can get a job there, even if it's part time.
I have my desk and chair moved into my apartment, however I don't have the desk put together yet. It's still in pieces in my livingroom. I'm going to try and take care of that tonight. I think a few car loads and truck loads will finish my moving, then I have to let the ex know that if he doesn't have his shit out by a enough time before the lease ends for me to clean the place then I'm hauling it all to the dump.
My rat pups are growing steadily, they're fully furred and will soon be opening their eyes and starting to wreck havoc in my house I'm sure.
I need to learn that night is for sleeping, even typing it out I don't buy it...
I'm taking a vacation at the beginning of July, I'll be away from home for Independence day so I'll have to find some fireworks to watch somehow.
I have to have everything out of my old place and have it clean by nnext Saturday. Oy.
M.

Go ahead and call me crazy, I do.

On Sunday morning I came into work to open my store. I work in a pet store so we go in a few hours before opening to care for the reptiles, birds, fish, and small mammals that call the store home until they go home with one of our customers. I started my tasks and a coworker came in and began to help me. I was working on one small animal cage while he did another when he started freaking out. He locked up the cage and backed away quickly as I came to see what the fuss was. One of our adult female rats had given birth in the night and nine tiny pink babies lay in a pile. We seperate our animals by sex, those that aren't spayed and neutered anyways, so I checked all of the rats and there was no male in the cage by then so someone had realised their mistake at some point. Or intentionally put males and females together and then seperated them again. Regardless, the end result was a bunch of rat pups. I set up a cage in our back room and transfered the babies and identified the mother and moved her back with them.
The guy who takes care of our reptiles in the mornings feeds the babies to monitors and snakes when an unplanned birth such as this happens. I'm not sure why exactly, but I felt a particular empathy for these poor little creatures, doomed to be born one day and dead the next. I had also been intending to get myself a pet rat soon, I asked my manager if I could take them, she said just don't bring them back. At the end of my shift I tried to talk myself out of it and failed, bought a water bottle, nestbox, and bowl, and brought them home in a paper box. I set them up in a tiny plastic cage I had sitting around, too cramped for a rat however she was doing nothing but tending to her babies so she could manage in a small space for a few days. I read up on the best foods and got a rat book and settled in to watch them grow. And grow they have. A full five days old now they have the beginings of fur and I can see what colors they are likely to become.
All told I have ten rats. As far as I can tell at this point, two little boys, seven little girls, and their mother. When I look for homes I'll look for commited homes that will take two of them. They're social creatures.

I'm mad, totally and completely crazy. But I knew that already.
M.

A Day Out of My Life.

Last night I spent the night at a friend's house, woke with my back hurting again about as badly as before. I went to breakfast with my host and called Shadow to have her pick up my last pay stub for our lease application on her way out to meet me in our future home city. J and I had a theogical discussion about the devil, the former angel Lucifer, weather the other names he's called are actually the names of seperate demons and the apearence of the devil himself. We agreed that to wasn't a bright red goatman with a pointy tail, and I suggested that his shapeshirting reputation might mean that he became what ever his observer feared most. She pointed out the suduciveness of the devil and we agreed that he might become what ever his observer desired when using the more incubbus like traits of his shapeshifting.
I teased her, "I wish the devil would come so that her could take the form of GG." I know her so well.
Quite the blasphemous conversation, but we're both atheists anyways so our ticket to hell is pre-punched.
I went to meet Shadow and her hubby after I brought J home and I put in my rental application and deposits and fees and confirmed the apartment and date that I will start to move in. Now we just have to wait for our background and credit checks to go through. I'm looking forward to this coming summer. I came home to pack and take care of my critters (which I am currently running behind on as I write this) and found that my toys had come in the mail today. I took a shower to break them in, another thing I'm looking forward to about being by myself for a bit is uninterupted playtime.
My ex came home and fussed at me about not telling him I was going to be gone all night, which I had said righ before I left. And made some awkward comment about being glad I was fine. And when I told him about the apartment he made a comment about how he shouldn't get an apartment there too because the idea was to give me space.
Ok, I never said anything as vague as misleading as to ask for time apart or space, he has decided that when I asked to break up with him I just needed to live apart for a while. Does he not see the look on my face when he tries to touch me? Does he not understand that I did not break up with him on some whim? It seems I have to draw the line on his face for him to be able to see it. I'm talking to him when he comes home again. He has to be plainly told this is not a break, I don't want to have his babies, I'm not the love of his life, and I'm not coming back to him.
The fact of his current reaction has killed all of my attraction to him. He's acting like a dumb animal.
I that sounds harsh, but it's true.
M.

The Adventures of Shadow and Mouse. (Not all that exciting)

On friday night Shadow, my bestest friend, and I determined to have an adventure. Go somewhere and maybe even socialize with some people we didn't know. So we found Shadow a pretty white halter shirt with a kerchief hem to wear with her dark skirt and striped leggings. We returned to my house to rumage through my full closet and dresser and Shadow insisted I wear an insanely sexy tight black top with open sides that had been hiding in my drawer with my favorite pair of jeans and a red shirt to keep me from freezing to death just walking to the car. We departed for downtown of my city, Durham, at about ten thirty I believe. The first place we went was a lesbian club that was not even open, not sure if it was too early or what but we made our way to the other place we had been trying to get to for a while. This place was a mix club and they were just opening as we pulled up, Shadow asked the fellow opening up how the night was looking and he informed us that the club would be populated on this evening by gay black guys and only two of the four floors would be open. Nothing there for us. So we asked him where else we might go and he suggested a place in the next city, Raleigh, where I was born. We called and got directions and got there, only nearly getting lost on the way. The place was a gay and lesbian club and was fairly dead when we got there so we explored and waited around for a while. Shadow talked to the bartender and somehow ended up getting us two free virgin drinks and also finding out it was likely to be mostly gay guys all evening here as well. We saw maybe four ladies besides ourselves in the whole place, not including the drag performer who showed up and hung out after we had been there for a while. I was distract texting a certain hottie while I finished my pineapple-strawberry and who knows what else drink. After we had sat around for a bit deciding if we wanted to stay any longer we bailed and saw another gay and lesbian club down the block. On the walk down we were accosted by a worker for a testing tent set up in a parking lot between the two, for a vial of your blood they would give you a pass to get into one of the clubs free. We decided to go for it. They were testing for HIV and syphilis and I figure, better to know weather you are healthy or not than to assume you are and find out down the line you're not. So Shadow and I filled out forms and signed waivers and sat down to have our blood drawn. The last time I was in a needles and blood setting I was getting stitches and I started having a panic attack in the middle of it. So I was a bit nervous. The woman I sat before had bleach blonde hair and a typical southern demeanor of "Shug" and "Hun". I had to remove my long sleeve shirt and fight the shivers. First she tried my right arm, probing the needle about to seek a vein, no luck. When she pulled the needle out I didn't even bleed. She moved to my left arm and exclaimed that that was where all my veins were. She had neglected to ask if i was a righty or a lefty. I looked away as she jabbed me again and sought a vein. After a moment she pulled the needle and informed me it wasn't meant for me to have my blood drawn, my vein had blown. She offered to try again with a different vein and I declined deciding my regular doctor had not seen me in too long anyways. She threw away the half vial of blood and gave me a pass for the club anyway. Shadow told me the man who had drawn her blood, who had been a very sweet seeming fellow, said that the woman I had been placed with was not the best one for me to have gone to. Too little too late. We went into the next club and found it to be more crowded but prossessing no more ladies than the last. It was mostly hispanic guys and the few chicks we saw seemed to be together. The music wasn't to our liking and it was generally a bust. After a few laps around the place we had to go back out and stand in line for twice as long as we were in the place to get our coats and IDs. We were informed by a gentleman in front of us in line that the place we had come from before was full of stuck up people, which I had been clued in on from a nasty look the few chicks there had given Shadow and I as we came in. I had had to supress my urge to defend my little sis from the catty comment I was sure was whispered as one leaned in the group and laughed. On the way back towards my car we saw snakes in the window of a store that was still open and were drawn inside like magpies after coins. Two huge tanks containing six boas sat on the counters of what turned out to be a sex shop. Unfortunately for us it was a place catering to gay males. Though they did have some very pretty Phallix glass dildos. I heart dichronic glass. We wandered about for a little while and Shadow ended up having to drag me out when the clerk offered to knock fifty bucks off the shiniest dichronic dildo that was already less than I could find it for online. Saving money is hard sometimes...
We got back o the car and I tried to backtrack to where I had come from. We were pretty much lost and Shadow called her hubby to try to get him to give us directions to her house but he was too tired to go get his map so we ended up staying lost for a while till I found somewhere familiar in the city I visit once in a while and moved away from before I reached driving age. I tried to follow the familiar road and Shadow fell asleep for long enough for me to get lost again. After she woke up again and freaked out and settled down again I found my map and my location on it and got her back home, slipping into my house and waking my ex because I was too tired to be that quiet at three thirty in the morning. That after leaving the clubs at half past midnight. I had fun, for all that I didn't find any hot chicks to flirt with or hang out in one place for too long, the whole evening was plenty of entertainment for me.
Not the best adventures ever, but I take what I get.
I can turn anything into a story, even if no else will care to read it.
M.

Light and flesh.

I've been perusing nudes on DeviantART, both drawn and photographed. Something about the way light falls over skin and muscles knit together underneath it is absolutely hypnotizing, especially under the right light from the right angle. I would love to be some artists model, in what ever medium. Photo, paint, clay. I've been drawn before and I would enjoy posing again, to be part of an artists process is a beautiful thing. People are amazing.
M.

Twenty-seven; most favorite and least favorite number.

I had a down day today. I expected it, which really only made it worse.
I had to pack up Ren and take her to work with me because she had to be out of my house for my landlord to show it and the frind I was hoping to leave her with didn't respond to my messages the night before. I had to open the store, I pulled into the lot at work fifteen minutes early and half dozed til my manager got there to open the doors. I took too long to do the animals and when the store manager came in the first thing he did, without saying good morning, was fuss at me through the opening manager. Over nothing, as usual. I got off and my friend had left me messages saying I could bring Ren over anytime, oh well. And that her bf had decide that they shouldn't go on the vacation I had already mailed the check to pay half of. Great.
I was finally at home and getting ready to take a nice long shower and I went out to the dryer to grab a towel. Sitting by the side door was a blue glass vase with an arangement of blue irises and yellow roses with a sympathy card attached.
From my sister. Or rather, the woman I used to consider a sister and the best friend a person could hope for. Used to.
It didn't make me cry, it didn't make me want to throw up, and it dertainly didn't make me miss her. Isn't it perfect that the one person you don't want to mark a certain anniversery with will alwasy be the one person to remember it? Merely added to my funk.
I got on the computer before the shower to see if anyone was on and fell asleep lying across the computer chairs for two hours. When I woke finally got int eh shower and stayed for as long as the water would stay hot. My ex came home and we watched a movie. It was a good movie but it didn't help where I was at in my head.
I can't even define this mood I've settled into, I'm just in the middle of a dark cloud. I'm too frusterated to cry, and too sad to yell.
This moment isn't sitting well with me.
M.

Fantasy

His voice in my ear, the words don't matter if he says my name. And he always knows when to say my name. His smile, in my eyes even when I close them. My arm over the side of the couch, back arched across the cushions. His lips on my neck, my leg snaked about his. His smell, warmth, breath, and feel fill a dozen different scenes that play out in my head as I go through the day. I look at his picture and listen to a few words of his and my mind paints a bigger picture.
Is obsession weakness?
M.

Sex; Post Break Up (The Farewell Fuck?)

After what was said was said and he went off and then came back again and my best friend came with her boy and made me supper and they went home so I could work in the morning I went to my bed where he was sleeping. He was waiting for me and snuggled against me and touched me. He had told me he still wanted to be with me til we moved apart, I knew and know it's a stupid idea, but I'll do what I can to make the hurt less for him. It's so warped, so laughable. Now that I don't what to be with him, in part because he didn't give me what I needed, he wants me. It's even more of an ironic joke that the sex after I told him I didn't want to stay with him was better than before.
He made his feeble brief attempt to go down on me, more than he had even pretended to think about before. He paid more heed to my responses than before. And he stayed and held me after. He was still too rough with me, I'm tending my soreness even now.
It's odd, somehow after that I don't want him anymore. If he can only be good to me if he's losing me, then he's even less the man for me. He still has a hold on me, I love him and still want him, but I can live without it.
Before I had decided that I really was certain I didn't want to stay with him I never turned him down for sex unless I had to. And if I did have to I would make it up to him. His idea of enough sex had varied from sparse to infrequent in recent months, from once every week and a half to twice a week. I was constantly begging for his attention, sometimes as much because I was crazy about him as because I felt that the only interaction with him I could get was sex. He admitted to me that I wore him out, but I didn't admit to him that when he was worn out I wasn't satisfied.

It's not the only reason I couldn't see myself with him long term, but I don't believe the people who say sex isn't a huge part of a relationship with a spouse. I'm a passionate person, I need someone who wants me as much as I want them, and can talk to me about what they want.

Going to be late for work, more later.
M.

In my head.

I have so many things I want to write about right now, I'm not sure if I can devide them into seperate posts and if I don't then they will become quite rambling and impossible to follow. I want to write about my current situation, I want to write some things I can't say, I want to write my thoughts on how I ended up here and where I'm bound tomorrow. I want to write pointless pretty ramblings.
I feel like my mind is waking up, it's felt asleep all day and now it won't slow down. An agent of my landlord is coming to show my apartment on Friday and I have to clean up. I should go get boxes to start packing, I only have a few months to go through my things and elliminate the unnecessary. I should also groom my dog, poor creature is soon going to be oppressed by the summer heat, which swathes my street as I type this. Though it is only spring. And I've fallen into rambling as I expected, so I am going to change and take my dogs for a walk, then comb the chow a bit, and then take a long shower. By such time as I have gotten all that done, perhaps my mind will have settled and I can take the yolk from the whites in my head.
M.

Why?

I'm never right, even when I know what I'm talking about and he doesn't, even when the facts are screaming that I was right all along. My opinions aren't worth asking about, much less considering. What I think is wrong, and I should change it. His dream is the one we should share, uncompromised. My experiences and thoughts, my daydreams and feelings, are all inconsequential. My desires are inconvienent at best, stupid at worst.
He only wants me when he's been looking at porn before I showed up. I never turn him down, I can't recall a time in months where I haven't had to talk him into having sex with me.
He's rude to my friends, or just stays out of the room I'm in with them all together.
Why would I leave? Why would I stay.
M.

Cats, family, phones, and other fixtures of life.

I went to see my father tonight, to get my new phone with new service and hang out for a bit. I had not seen him since mid January, crazy considering I live half an hours drive from him. He showed me the progress on his house which is nearly done compared to the last time I saw it, and his new beehives, I played fetch with his dog a little as we walked around. He gave me my phone and helped me start my taxes and sat mostly in silence with me. Asking me about my pets, my friends, my boy, during lulls in working out my taxes.
He told me about my little cat, Alanna, that she wasn't with us any more. She would have been eight this August, my tiny orange baby girl. When I got my first cats I got two, mother and daughter dumped at a friend of a friend's home during a party. The mother cat turned out to be pregnant again and soon I had seven cats. My pride, my feline family. I gave one of the kittens to a friend and it was the six of them and me. They would follow me and come to my call, I loved them desperately. We would go into the woods and they would cry if I left them behind til I stopped and waited. I had named some of them after Greek gods and some after characters in a book. Over the years, before I left home and since, they had disappeared, usually more than one at a time. I would speak to my father and he would mention he had not seen this cat or that cat. I don't know if they died or were taken in. Alanna, my father told me, had been having her eye act up again. When he took her to the vet they gave him something to feed her and something to apply to the eye, and they drained a cyst on her side as well, my father treated her for two days and then she vanished. He thought she might be mad about the medicine, but she never came back. He told me how the neighbors cat had been giving her trouble, he was sure if she had fallen prey to something in the woods because of her impaired sight or lost a fight to one of those cats. Or if she had merely found some people who would let her inside and fed her something better than he did.
Only one of my kitties remains on this earth that I know of. Apollo, sweet golden cat, living with my former best friend. I have not seen him in ages, but I know he is still out there, my sweet kitten. I miss them.
M.

Fishy, fishy, fishy!

I got my koi, geez... must be last month now. Haven't been blogging a bit. I have two comet goldfish and three koi. They're grand. I have a 40gal aquarium, which they will be ok in for a while but I will have to upgrade eventually. It's the biggest aquarium I've ever had. I'm starting to think of fish like dogs because of how sweet and clever my koi are. I love watching them, and it's going to be great to watch them grow up. I gave them all nifty names. I'm batty.
Photo album of fishyness- http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v291/JessieKL/Koi/
M.

Rambly

I don't want a white picket fence, forget that happily ever after theme. That's the good part and I want mine to shine, be my very own, built of my toil. I don't want to be a wife, I shiver to hear that word not followed by a name or preceeded by a man's name. I'll stand on my own, create my own things, run my own life. I want a child to raise my way, the way my mother inspired. I want my own home, full of sun and books, kitchen smells and bits of creations, animals coming and going all days along with friends and loves. Not busy, but not lonely. My own balance. I want work I can smile because of, bring my life to. I want my dreams, my way, and I'm not settling, compromise I can, but not settle.
M.

Seshomaru Mushuggah

Last night my betta died, he was about 2 years old which is as long as they live. He had been slowing down and showing his age so I wasn't too shocked. Poor old man. He was white with blue flecks on his fins and in his prime he was quite lovely. I'm not sure if I will get another or not, I've been thinking about some different fish for a while so I might just get a big tank and do that.
RIP Seshy Meshy.

M.

Ferret!

On Saturday a woman came into my store to put her ferret up for adoption, on Saturday evening I adopted a ferret. :D She is a five month old cinnamon brown baby girl. She's small and sweet. My bf and I have named her Ren, her old name was Zoe. I got the cage her former owner had for her and it's pretty tiny but she'll manage in it for a bit, when I move I'll get her a big one and a ferrety playmate.
She's quite mellow for a ferret, she will fall asleep in my arms and kiss my face and neck and be quite calm. But when she doesn't want to hold still she won't. Her ears are dirty and she has a lump under her skin on her face so I'm going to get her checked out by a vet but she is quite active and playful and is eating and all that. Shadow and her ferret came over for a playdate and the two of them got on wonderfully. They played for something like four hours and she slept really hard when they went home.
I'm so excited, she's awesome. My first ferret. My very own fuzzy baby.
^_^
M.

grr

"twice in one day, eh? that's... fun." He says.
But he makes himself a liar by instisting they go to sleep.

What the fuck ever. He thinks I'm kidding when I say I'll find someone else to sex me.

M.