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.