Sunday, June 1, 2008
Friday, May 16, 2008
55 Fiction - 'Picky'
There’re flowers on his shirt,
one above each pocket.
He looks like a cowboy,
and he plays the guitar.
His motorcycle is out back,
and he calls it his horse.
His boots are old and dusty,
and his jeans are all dirty.
And I want to play with his moustache.
…until I hear his laugh.
55
Sunday, May 4, 2008
Sad School Haze
Well, I never did get high on 4/20.
It's probably the first 4/20 in many a year that I haven't.
I miss it, sometimes. But, I just think that while I'm still committing myself to school, I should probably refrain.
Though, this semester is coming to an end.
I think that only really hit me just today.
I mean, I've known all along that the end of the semester was on May the 8th--which is my brother's birthday, so it's an easy date to remember--but only just today has it really dawned on me that after Thursday, I no longer have classes.
Which means that after Thursday, I HAVE TO FIND A JOB.
Because, I decided not to go to summer school.
Not doing summer school means that I can work and make money so that I can afford to go to school again fall semester.
I have two finals. One in English and one in Math. They are both on Wednesday. I am not all that worried about them. In math I will surely get an A. In English, I still have never figured out that Professor and I will surely get a B in that class most likely. If my final research paper is a C, (we haven't gotten them back yet,) then I may even get a C in that class. I don't really care anymore, cos I hated that class. I despise academic writing with a passion and it has no place in my life and never will. For some folks it is the be all/end all of their existence, like my Professor....for me...there exists not a single way in which I would possibly care less about the genre. But, I tried to do well in that class. She never once told us what it is she is looking for. She never once told us what it was about our papers that got us an A over a C. Her comments are redundant and when we get our papers back all of us ask each other 'What does this mean?' and point to a comment on our paper and no one seems to know what it means, but all of our papers say it. But, she does not go over this material in class. Instead she goes over literature texts and we all sit there and talk about how it made us feel in our common and colloquial language, but she never tells us this is how you make your B paper a C in my class. No, she doesn't do that. Instead she spent the whole last class telling us to take her class next semester because they are going to go over the poem 'Ode to Senor Dildo' and the other half of the class passing around her book that was her doctoral thesis. I own a lot of dildos and I use them on a daily basis. I do not deny that this woman is highly intelligent. What I would have liked to have gotten out of her class is a very distinct explanation from her as to how to go about getting an A in her class and perhaps some very specific lessons in class about how she would like us to be writing. Maybe some more in-class writing exercises in which she goes around the class and helps guide us to write in a manner in which she expects us to write in order to get the grade in which we desire. I have not missed any of these types of things because I am in class every day and I am never late and I do all of the readings and I never leave class while it is in session. So, that is not the reason I have not experienced this kind of teaching with her. One cannot learn through osmosis. He knowledge will not merely soak into my being simply by attending class. No. Nor do I possess the ability to read her mind and be able to grasp what it is she is looking for. No, that has not happened either. Instead I have sat in that class day in and day out listening to the people in my class shoot the shit. That is what I have done all semester long. The one girl in my class comes from a very large Latino family and has a very strict religious background and all semester I have heard stories about each of her aunts, cousins, uncles, and I have gotten to know her father really well through these stories she relays to the class as well. There is always something in the texts that seems to relate to some odd thing from her family. Then there is the heavy-set African-American woman who sits behind me, who likes to share with the class about her and her mother do not take any shit from men. Her language is only somewhat more classroom appropriate. Then there is the bisexual boy who came out in class last week. He is heterosexual now. But, when he was 15, he thought he was gay. There is another young man who often talks about how when he was on the track team last semester. There is another woman who is married and hails from Serbia and she always tells stories about how her culture differs so much from American culture. There are several other people who talk about various realms of their life in class that is somehow identifiable with the life of Frederick Douglass, the Death of a Salesman, and Angels in America. I have found each one of their stories truly fascinating. I really enjoy listening to all that my classmates have to say on Mondays and Wednesdays, when this class meets. But, not one of their stories has taught me anything in any way that will get me an A in this class. This is not how you teach a class. Now, if I was supposed to write at ten-page paper on the various types of people in my class, (including the quiet strange girl with tattoos--you know, me,) and how I have learned from that and talk about what I REALLY got out of this class and be able to get an A based upon that knowledge of the diversity of opinion in my class....well, I'd damn well write something that would blow my teacher's ass away. Unfortunately, what we have done on a daily basis in that class has nothing at all to do with our final research paper and our final grade and I feel as though she wasted our time in that class. I am there to get an A. I come to class every day. I am never late. I am always prepared. My assignments are on-time. They are a hard-copy, in her hand and not an 'I will e-mail it to you later today.' No. I don't do that. All I have wanted was to get an A in a class where she refuses to teach us HOW TO WRITE FOR HER SO THAT WE CAN GET AN A. No, we sit around talking about our families. Some of us don't really have a family and have nothing to say so we just listen and take as many notes as we can from the various things that people are talking about but NONE OF IT MATTERS. Because none of what I have done every fucking day for that class will get me an A. None of it. And it's really depressing. Because I am a good student and a good writer and I don't cause problems for the professor and I still have no clue how the fuck to get an A in her class and here it is the end of the semester and all it takes is one lousy professor to get you thinking that maybe you shouldn't be back in school. All it takes is one lousy professor to make you think that it doesn't matter that you have so many points in your math class that your professor has to throw away your extra points cos you are only allowed 25 extra credit points total. It doesn't matter is you have over a hundred percent of the points. It doesn't matter if you have the highest grade in the class. Cos you have this other class where no matter what you do, no matter how much you listen, no matter how much you try to learn and still be you, it doesn't matter.
So, what the fuck is the fucking point?
So, this summer I have a lot of thinking to do.
I know you can't have a great professor in all your classes. But, I usually can figure out the professors. I can usually figure out from the material on my own what I need to do to get an A.
But, with her it has been a heart-wrenching experience.
And it has truly fucked with everything that I need right now.
And I don't know what to do.
I am so sad.
And so depressed.
And I just want to know what I got on my research paper.
I just want to know.
But, she is on vacation.
On the beach.
She said she wasn't bringing our papers with her.
School is over for this class on Wednesday.
I gave her a shining review because I believe in Karma.
And because I don't think it matters what I think.
It only matters to me.
But, her teaching method is not one in which a true writer can learn to write.
I could write a little story about each person on my class that would be amazing.
EACH ONE.
And put it together in a little book.
And hand it in.
And it would make her smile.
That is what I want to do with what I learned from this class.
But, I can't do that.
I'm not getting what I need out of school.
And I don't know how to go about doing that when I desperately need motivation from somewhere to stick with this.
I'm so sad today.
And I'm not sure why.
It's probably the first 4/20 in many a year that I haven't.
I miss it, sometimes. But, I just think that while I'm still committing myself to school, I should probably refrain.
Though, this semester is coming to an end.
I think that only really hit me just today.
I mean, I've known all along that the end of the semester was on May the 8th--which is my brother's birthday, so it's an easy date to remember--but only just today has it really dawned on me that after Thursday, I no longer have classes.
Which means that after Thursday, I HAVE TO FIND A JOB.
Because, I decided not to go to summer school.
Not doing summer school means that I can work and make money so that I can afford to go to school again fall semester.
I have two finals. One in English and one in Math. They are both on Wednesday. I am not all that worried about them. In math I will surely get an A. In English, I still have never figured out that Professor and I will surely get a B in that class most likely. If my final research paper is a C, (we haven't gotten them back yet,) then I may even get a C in that class. I don't really care anymore, cos I hated that class. I despise academic writing with a passion and it has no place in my life and never will. For some folks it is the be all/end all of their existence, like my Professor....for me...there exists not a single way in which I would possibly care less about the genre. But, I tried to do well in that class. She never once told us what it is she is looking for. She never once told us what it was about our papers that got us an A over a C. Her comments are redundant and when we get our papers back all of us ask each other 'What does this mean?' and point to a comment on our paper and no one seems to know what it means, but all of our papers say it. But, she does not go over this material in class. Instead she goes over literature texts and we all sit there and talk about how it made us feel in our common and colloquial language, but she never tells us this is how you make your B paper a C in my class. No, she doesn't do that. Instead she spent the whole last class telling us to take her class next semester because they are going to go over the poem 'Ode to Senor Dildo' and the other half of the class passing around her book that was her doctoral thesis. I own a lot of dildos and I use them on a daily basis. I do not deny that this woman is highly intelligent. What I would have liked to have gotten out of her class is a very distinct explanation from her as to how to go about getting an A in her class and perhaps some very specific lessons in class about how she would like us to be writing. Maybe some more in-class writing exercises in which she goes around the class and helps guide us to write in a manner in which she expects us to write in order to get the grade in which we desire. I have not missed any of these types of things because I am in class every day and I am never late and I do all of the readings and I never leave class while it is in session. So, that is not the reason I have not experienced this kind of teaching with her. One cannot learn through osmosis. He knowledge will not merely soak into my being simply by attending class. No. Nor do I possess the ability to read her mind and be able to grasp what it is she is looking for. No, that has not happened either. Instead I have sat in that class day in and day out listening to the people in my class shoot the shit. That is what I have done all semester long. The one girl in my class comes from a very large Latino family and has a very strict religious background and all semester I have heard stories about each of her aunts, cousins, uncles, and I have gotten to know her father really well through these stories she relays to the class as well. There is always something in the texts that seems to relate to some odd thing from her family. Then there is the heavy-set African-American woman who sits behind me, who likes to share with the class about her and her mother do not take any shit from men. Her language is only somewhat more classroom appropriate. Then there is the bisexual boy who came out in class last week. He is heterosexual now. But, when he was 15, he thought he was gay. There is another young man who often talks about how when he was on the track team last semester. There is another woman who is married and hails from Serbia and she always tells stories about how her culture differs so much from American culture. There are several other people who talk about various realms of their life in class that is somehow identifiable with the life of Frederick Douglass, the Death of a Salesman, and Angels in America. I have found each one of their stories truly fascinating. I really enjoy listening to all that my classmates have to say on Mondays and Wednesdays, when this class meets. But, not one of their stories has taught me anything in any way that will get me an A in this class. This is not how you teach a class. Now, if I was supposed to write at ten-page paper on the various types of people in my class, (including the quiet strange girl with tattoos--you know, me,) and how I have learned from that and talk about what I REALLY got out of this class and be able to get an A based upon that knowledge of the diversity of opinion in my class....well, I'd damn well write something that would blow my teacher's ass away. Unfortunately, what we have done on a daily basis in that class has nothing at all to do with our final research paper and our final grade and I feel as though she wasted our time in that class. I am there to get an A. I come to class every day. I am never late. I am always prepared. My assignments are on-time. They are a hard-copy, in her hand and not an 'I will e-mail it to you later today.' No. I don't do that. All I have wanted was to get an A in a class where she refuses to teach us HOW TO WRITE FOR HER SO THAT WE CAN GET AN A. No, we sit around talking about our families. Some of us don't really have a family and have nothing to say so we just listen and take as many notes as we can from the various things that people are talking about but NONE OF IT MATTERS. Because none of what I have done every fucking day for that class will get me an A. None of it. And it's really depressing. Because I am a good student and a good writer and I don't cause problems for the professor and I still have no clue how the fuck to get an A in her class and here it is the end of the semester and all it takes is one lousy professor to get you thinking that maybe you shouldn't be back in school. All it takes is one lousy professor to make you think that it doesn't matter that you have so many points in your math class that your professor has to throw away your extra points cos you are only allowed 25 extra credit points total. It doesn't matter is you have over a hundred percent of the points. It doesn't matter if you have the highest grade in the class. Cos you have this other class where no matter what you do, no matter how much you listen, no matter how much you try to learn and still be you, it doesn't matter.
So, what the fuck is the fucking point?
So, this summer I have a lot of thinking to do.
I know you can't have a great professor in all your classes. But, I usually can figure out the professors. I can usually figure out from the material on my own what I need to do to get an A.
But, with her it has been a heart-wrenching experience.
And it has truly fucked with everything that I need right now.
And I don't know what to do.
I am so sad.
And so depressed.
And I just want to know what I got on my research paper.
I just want to know.
But, she is on vacation.
On the beach.
She said she wasn't bringing our papers with her.
School is over for this class on Wednesday.
I gave her a shining review because I believe in Karma.
And because I don't think it matters what I think.
It only matters to me.
But, her teaching method is not one in which a true writer can learn to write.
I could write a little story about each person on my class that would be amazing.
EACH ONE.
And put it together in a little book.
And hand it in.
And it would make her smile.
That is what I want to do with what I learned from this class.
But, I can't do that.
I'm not getting what I need out of school.
And I don't know how to go about doing that when I desperately need motivation from somewhere to stick with this.
I'm so sad today.
And I'm not sure why.
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Saturday, April 19, 2008
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
My English Professor is Oblivious and Narcissistic and I think she's retarded.
I feel much better today.
Last night, shortly after I wrote that post and had been working on some math homework, my brother called and wanted to hang-out.
PERFECT TIMING, my brother.
So, I finished up my homework and freshened up and we hung-out. He doesn't have a DVD player and bought 'End of the Century,' a Ramones documentary, a while back before his broke and has been wanting to watch it. He's always trying to get me to bring my DVD player over so we can watch it, cos I love the Ramones a whole, whole bunch.
However, my brother has television and I do not have my television hooked-up to receive channels, (slightly on purpose, as well as, slightly due to laziness,) and when I walked in the door, 'Dancing with the Stars' was on.
I have never seen this show. Not a single solitary time. I'm not big on reality television, let alone television. However, seeing it was like an extra-special treat and I told him to leave it on and we'd watch that before the movie.
So, we did.
I think Marlee Matlin, (is that how you spell her name?) should win. She's fucking hot, she fucking shakes her gazongas, and she is so, so, so extremely kind. I was not really impressed with anyone else except for Shannon Elizabeth, (is that how you spell her name?) However, I thought her outfit was a little gaudy. Other than that SHE should definitely get second place, cos she shakes her hips, despite what those assholes say, and she really gets into it and it's so entertaining and her partner danced with FOOD POISONING. Amazing. Everyone else sucked. I thought Kristi Yamaguchi's dance was blah. I don't care how precise it was. It was boring. And so not sexy and so not fun. Besides, her preciseness comes from being a FIGURE SKATER. And I loved her as a figure skater. So, it's not that I didn't like her talents in her given field. But, for this show. Marlee should win and now my brother has to keep me informed.
And then we were hungry so we went for tacos across the street. My brother didn't want to eat there, but I did, so we did. And he had a great time and enjoyed himself. And he was jealous of the fajitas that I ordered. 'Your leftovers look so much better than mine,' he said. Ha-ha.
Of course, I allowed him to pick off my plate the whole time because they give you a shit ton of food.
Then he wanted to go to the liquore store. So, we went to the liquor store.
We bought these little pink cans of raspberry beer. It was the weirdest thing. My brother didn't like it, even though he picked it out. But, I did.
And he bought this cherry ale, but we didn't open that. He'll have to let me know if it's something I would like.
Anyhow, we watched the movie and I learned SO many things about the Ramones that I did not know.
And I got my mind off things.
And now tomorrow I have to go to English class and worry about whether my fucking English teacher overheard my therapy session because I mistakenly chose to take advantage of the FREE therapy at school which AT LEAST I TRIED IT.
I am not giving up on my New Year's Resolution to get my ass into therapy before the end of the year. But, this first attempt at it, (with TWO therapists,) was not my boat of tea. Yep, I said boat of tea.
And I don't know why.
My brother's band is playing a couple of gigs this summer out-of-town at ISU and in St. Louis and he's going to try and have me come along apparently in some way. So, depending on what my job situation is during that time, we'll see what happens.
This is a different band then the one that I went to a gig for on Friday night. This one is with a girl I used to work with who I refer to as Lil.
And Lil's old roommate.
We'll call him Pot.
I don't really know Pot. But, Pot has a cute, cute girlfriend.
And Lil, well, Lil has lots of girlfriends.
And my brother is the drummer.
I went and saw them a few Wednesdays ago. After not having seen them since their first show and they've come a long way in a year, or whatever it's been.
I have a research paper due on Monday that has to be 8-10 pages long that I have not started.
I'm not worried about writing something interesting that can fill nine pages. I really don't have a problem with that.
I just have a problem speaking in language that sounds all uptight and like my shit is better than your shit kind of a way. I have a problem with that.
That's what most academic papers sound like to me.
So, I'm going to have to write something somewhere in between.
And I'm fine with that.
Though, I really want an A.
But, if I don't start it soon, I am sure that it will be a B, because I will just not care about re-wording sentences so it sounds like it came from another human being.
If I didn't blog and have a very distinct voice in which my words are so used to coming from it wouldn't mean so much to me.
When I was in college the first time, I never had a problem with this.
But, now, ....NOW I have a problem with it.
Whatever.
I'm past the point of caring all that much.
I'm not in jeopardy of getting that bad of a grade.
Unless she overhead my therapy session.
Because I had to talk about her subject matter and discussion of spanking and physical violence on children among a group of people from the inner-city who thought it was COMPLETELY okay to 'whoop yo' babies.' And my teacher just egged them on. Granted I do not go to the very best school with the very best professors. But, it is not a bad school and I usually enjoy the diversity and love it SO MUCH MORE than when I was at U. of I. so long ago. I hated that school. So, all schools have their ups and downs. But, sitting in that class discussing subject matter I deemed to be inappropriate because of the WAY in which we were discussing it made me feel as though the class was taking an extremely unprofessional turn and for a woman who stresses so whole-heartedly that we leave our emotions out of our papers, I found it extremely inappropriate for her to not only allow the discussion but to ENCOURAGE the people in the class to sit there and laugh and joke about how....
I don't know. I can't talk about the emotions it brought up in me in this forum either. It was just inappropriate. It's not something you should be discussing in a COMPOSITION class when there might be students in your class who it brings back a lot of things they haven't thought about in a long time.
So, if she heard me talking about how much I didn't like her, I don't really care.
Because she is so fucking oblivious to the world around her.
ALL of the example she gives us to read in class to look at on how to model our papers, are HER PAPERS FROM COLLEGE.
That is the type of woman she is.
I don't read her examples.
I use my text.
It is not required reading and does not affect what I learn in this class.
I find examples in my Bedford Handbook.
Anyhow, I didn't really come to post about my gayass English class that I'm probably going to end up with a B, a C if she overhead me I'm sure, in... I came to post about my cool night with my bro.
And to say I'm feeling better.
So, there ya go.
Last night, shortly after I wrote that post and had been working on some math homework, my brother called and wanted to hang-out.
PERFECT TIMING, my brother.
So, I finished up my homework and freshened up and we hung-out. He doesn't have a DVD player and bought 'End of the Century,' a Ramones documentary, a while back before his broke and has been wanting to watch it. He's always trying to get me to bring my DVD player over so we can watch it, cos I love the Ramones a whole, whole bunch.
However, my brother has television and I do not have my television hooked-up to receive channels, (slightly on purpose, as well as, slightly due to laziness,) and when I walked in the door, 'Dancing with the Stars' was on.
I have never seen this show. Not a single solitary time. I'm not big on reality television, let alone television. However, seeing it was like an extra-special treat and I told him to leave it on and we'd watch that before the movie.
So, we did.
I think Marlee Matlin, (is that how you spell her name?) should win. She's fucking hot, she fucking shakes her gazongas, and she is so, so, so extremely kind. I was not really impressed with anyone else except for Shannon Elizabeth, (is that how you spell her name?) However, I thought her outfit was a little gaudy. Other than that SHE should definitely get second place, cos she shakes her hips, despite what those assholes say, and she really gets into it and it's so entertaining and her partner danced with FOOD POISONING. Amazing. Everyone else sucked. I thought Kristi Yamaguchi's dance was blah. I don't care how precise it was. It was boring. And so not sexy and so not fun. Besides, her preciseness comes from being a FIGURE SKATER. And I loved her as a figure skater. So, it's not that I didn't like her talents in her given field. But, for this show. Marlee should win and now my brother has to keep me informed.
And then we were hungry so we went for tacos across the street. My brother didn't want to eat there, but I did, so we did. And he had a great time and enjoyed himself. And he was jealous of the fajitas that I ordered. 'Your leftovers look so much better than mine,' he said. Ha-ha.
Of course, I allowed him to pick off my plate the whole time because they give you a shit ton of food.
Then he wanted to go to the liquore store. So, we went to the liquor store.
We bought these little pink cans of raspberry beer. It was the weirdest thing. My brother didn't like it, even though he picked it out. But, I did.
And he bought this cherry ale, but we didn't open that. He'll have to let me know if it's something I would like.
Anyhow, we watched the movie and I learned SO many things about the Ramones that I did not know.
And I got my mind off things.
And now tomorrow I have to go to English class and worry about whether my fucking English teacher overheard my therapy session because I mistakenly chose to take advantage of the FREE therapy at school which AT LEAST I TRIED IT.
I am not giving up on my New Year's Resolution to get my ass into therapy before the end of the year. But, this first attempt at it, (with TWO therapists,) was not my boat of tea. Yep, I said boat of tea.
And I don't know why.
My brother's band is playing a couple of gigs this summer out-of-town at ISU and in St. Louis and he's going to try and have me come along apparently in some way. So, depending on what my job situation is during that time, we'll see what happens.
This is a different band then the one that I went to a gig for on Friday night. This one is with a girl I used to work with who I refer to as Lil.
And Lil's old roommate.
We'll call him Pot.
I don't really know Pot. But, Pot has a cute, cute girlfriend.
And Lil, well, Lil has lots of girlfriends.
And my brother is the drummer.
I went and saw them a few Wednesdays ago. After not having seen them since their first show and they've come a long way in a year, or whatever it's been.
I have a research paper due on Monday that has to be 8-10 pages long that I have not started.
I'm not worried about writing something interesting that can fill nine pages. I really don't have a problem with that.
I just have a problem speaking in language that sounds all uptight and like my shit is better than your shit kind of a way. I have a problem with that.
That's what most academic papers sound like to me.
So, I'm going to have to write something somewhere in between.
And I'm fine with that.
Though, I really want an A.
But, if I don't start it soon, I am sure that it will be a B, because I will just not care about re-wording sentences so it sounds like it came from another human being.
If I didn't blog and have a very distinct voice in which my words are so used to coming from it wouldn't mean so much to me.
When I was in college the first time, I never had a problem with this.
But, now, ....NOW I have a problem with it.
Whatever.
I'm past the point of caring all that much.
I'm not in jeopardy of getting that bad of a grade.
Unless she overhead my therapy session.
Because I had to talk about her subject matter and discussion of spanking and physical violence on children among a group of people from the inner-city who thought it was COMPLETELY okay to 'whoop yo' babies.' And my teacher just egged them on. Granted I do not go to the very best school with the very best professors. But, it is not a bad school and I usually enjoy the diversity and love it SO MUCH MORE than when I was at U. of I. so long ago. I hated that school. So, all schools have their ups and downs. But, sitting in that class discussing subject matter I deemed to be inappropriate because of the WAY in which we were discussing it made me feel as though the class was taking an extremely unprofessional turn and for a woman who stresses so whole-heartedly that we leave our emotions out of our papers, I found it extremely inappropriate for her to not only allow the discussion but to ENCOURAGE the people in the class to sit there and laugh and joke about how....
I don't know. I can't talk about the emotions it brought up in me in this forum either. It was just inappropriate. It's not something you should be discussing in a COMPOSITION class when there might be students in your class who it brings back a lot of things they haven't thought about in a long time.
So, if she heard me talking about how much I didn't like her, I don't really care.
Because she is so fucking oblivious to the world around her.
ALL of the example she gives us to read in class to look at on how to model our papers, are HER PAPERS FROM COLLEGE.
That is the type of woman she is.
I don't read her examples.
I use my text.
It is not required reading and does not affect what I learn in this class.
I find examples in my Bedford Handbook.
Anyhow, I didn't really come to post about my gayass English class that I'm probably going to end up with a B, a C if she overhead me I'm sure, in... I came to post about my cool night with my bro.
And to say I'm feeling better.
So, there ya go.
Monday, April 14, 2008
I am Anti-Social and Depressed and I Don't Know How to Learn to Not Be Those Things
I have had a week from Hell.
I went to my brother's show on Friday night where I had to talk to people that I really would prefer not to talk with any longer.
I had to act cordial and fake and like I cared.
I just wanted to stand there with my drink and leave when he was through.
I was mostly able to do that except for one asshole.
I don't always think he's an asshole. But, in recent months I have been getting to know him again and I am beginning to realize that he is, indeed, an asshole. He is what I like to call a 'justifier.' Instead of explaining his actions or apologizing for them, he 'justifies' them. He defends himself instead of trying to understand what the consequences of his actions might entail.
Because, after all, it is ACTIONS that speak louder than words. So, he can 'justify' as much as he'd like, but it's his actions that will only ever make him into a person that I actually care to speak with at my brother's events. And, unfortunately, I can rarely attend one of these things without him being there.
And I did NOT go up to him or look at him or anything. He is the one that decided to sway on over to me while I was at the bar getting a drink. He swayed on over to me with my ex-boyfriend's step-father next to him, so I really had to be nice then. I think it was an asshole cowardly move that takes absolutely no balls. So, then after I was nice the first time, I like felt sort of obligated to be nice to him after that and I don't know why. So, I sat there listening to him spewing forth some bullshit and when I left later without saying good-bye I get some drunkass text asking where I was with him saying crap that right after he said it he said I should forget it which is the kind of stuff that got us to not really being very good friends any longer in the first place.
But, whatever.
It's not like he takes any initiative to try and apologize outside of seeing me at my brother's shows. I think he's a coward.
But, whatever.
I've known him for twenty years.
I'm sure I'll know him for twenty more.
And I can say this with absolute certainty, even the valedictorian in high school does stupid ass shit simply because he's a fucking guy.
And guys do way kinds of stupid shit all the fucking time.
Which is fine.
Cos girls do too.
But most guys, (and I do mean that MOST--meaning NOT ALL) will not own up to the stupid shit they do. I own up to my stupid shit relatively quickly. Depending on the stupid shit.
And it's not an easy thing to do.
I haven't always been this way. But in the last decade or so I've grown up.
I guess we all grow up at our own pace.
And then today.
Today I quit therapy with the SECOND of the intern therapists that I have tried there. And I'm not going back.
I don't think that going to see the free therapist interns at my school is something that is going to be good for me.
My school does not have the best of facilities and today we had to meet in a different office.
The 'office' was located in the same section of offices as my English Professor.
And I don't like my personal life being noted-upon by my professors. And this is the second time we have had to meet in this room. It really bothers me.
And also, the new intern therapist I have....she always asks me the same questions.
And I keep giving her the same answers.
And it is simply ridiculous.
'What makes you happy?'
'I don't know what makes me happy.'
That is a very short version of the conversation.
But, it pretty much goes in circles.
Last week this was what she had decided.
That if I went and got the application at the sextoy store I wanted to work at that I could reward myself by going out for sushi.
Number One: I can't afford sushi right now. So, it wasn't happening anyway and I tried to explain this to her. But, I couldn't think of anything else that I like to do when she asked me what I like to do.
Number Two: It's not getting the application that is difficult for me. I have a PILE of applications. It is filling them out and bringing them in. It is not even the JOB OFFERS that are hard for me. I have many opportunities that pop-up all the time as the restaurant industry here is rather incestuous. The problem is banking in on one of these opportunities. I tried to explain this to her too. So, basically I was going to spend money on sushi by asking for an application I was going to ask for anyway the next time I bought lube to reward myself for adding another piece of paper to my pile. I told her this. I told her I thought it was ridiculous. But, she insisted that it might work. So, okay. So, I went to the store, bought my lube. Asked for an app. They are over-staffed and not hiring. Understandable. So, no sushi for me, which I would not have gotten anyway cos I simply don't have the money to do it after BUYING MY LOLLAPOLLOOZA TICKET. Yes, that was what I bought.
I don't know what to say to her anymore when she asks what makes me happy. It makes me cry when she asks me that. It makes me cry in the sideroom of the office in the same room as my English Professor and I am not going back.
It's SO retarded.
I need therapy that I cannot afford and don't know when I will be able to afford such a thing.
Cos this ain't it.
And going to my brother's shows causes me more stress and emotional problems than it does him for me not to be there for him and see his band despite how much I know it means to him that I go.
What would make me happy?
If boys I didn't want to speak to were not at my brother's shows. If my ex-boyfriend's stepfather didn't stare at me lasciviously whenever I WAS standing by myself simply because I had on cute heels and looked nice. (I get a look. A look. ONE look. Look. Admire. Stop looking. How hard is that?) Actually, my ex-boyfriend is really nice to me lately when I've been going to the shows. He's always been that. Nice.
See why I don't know what makes me happy? Nice guys do nothing for me. I don't want to talk to assholes at all. I don't like being stared at.
So, what? Wearing high heels alone in the privacy of no one's eyes would make me happy? I don't get how I am supposed to know what makes me happy?
I don't know how to answer her questions.
Because most days I just make my way through them until they are over, passing the time.
Just passing the time does not make me happy.
Yet I have not motivation to even bring back an application.
So, WHERE in that am I supposed to find the answer to her question each week when she asks me what makes me happy?
I am NOT going to continue to see her trying to answer a question that I don't know the answer to, OTHERWISE I WOULDN'T BE THERE, in an office situated next to my English Professor who made us talk about child abuse in class today, so I had to sit there an listen to crap from people who haven't a clue what child abuse is.
Except for maybe the one other kid who is as quiet as me.
So, I quit therapy and had an awful week and an awful day and I just want to pretend like none of it happened.
You know how I know I'm really in a bad place. I don't even feel like doing my math homework right now.
Yeah. I'm that pissed and upset and hurt and mad that I had to have therapy in that room again.
I am so glad I quit.
Cos I can't do it anymore.
I want to have a therapist who helps me learn how to talk about things better.
I want to have a therapist who is older than me.
And I want a therapist where we are in a room that is not a room at my school. I want them to be two separate worlds.
But, I can't afford that. So, right now I am better off with no therapy than crappy therapy.
I know these two girls tried. I know they did. I just don't think they know what to do with me.
That's okay. Cos I don't know what to do with me either.
I don't know if anyone ever will.
Not even me.
I went to my brother's show on Friday night where I had to talk to people that I really would prefer not to talk with any longer.
I had to act cordial and fake and like I cared.
I just wanted to stand there with my drink and leave when he was through.
I was mostly able to do that except for one asshole.
I don't always think he's an asshole. But, in recent months I have been getting to know him again and I am beginning to realize that he is, indeed, an asshole. He is what I like to call a 'justifier.' Instead of explaining his actions or apologizing for them, he 'justifies' them. He defends himself instead of trying to understand what the consequences of his actions might entail.
Because, after all, it is ACTIONS that speak louder than words. So, he can 'justify' as much as he'd like, but it's his actions that will only ever make him into a person that I actually care to speak with at my brother's events. And, unfortunately, I can rarely attend one of these things without him being there.
And I did NOT go up to him or look at him or anything. He is the one that decided to sway on over to me while I was at the bar getting a drink. He swayed on over to me with my ex-boyfriend's step-father next to him, so I really had to be nice then. I think it was an asshole cowardly move that takes absolutely no balls. So, then after I was nice the first time, I like felt sort of obligated to be nice to him after that and I don't know why. So, I sat there listening to him spewing forth some bullshit and when I left later without saying good-bye I get some drunkass text asking where I was with him saying crap that right after he said it he said I should forget it which is the kind of stuff that got us to not really being very good friends any longer in the first place.
But, whatever.
It's not like he takes any initiative to try and apologize outside of seeing me at my brother's shows. I think he's a coward.
But, whatever.
I've known him for twenty years.
I'm sure I'll know him for twenty more.
And I can say this with absolute certainty, even the valedictorian in high school does stupid ass shit simply because he's a fucking guy.
And guys do way kinds of stupid shit all the fucking time.
Which is fine.
Cos girls do too.
But most guys, (and I do mean that MOST--meaning NOT ALL) will not own up to the stupid shit they do. I own up to my stupid shit relatively quickly. Depending on the stupid shit.
And it's not an easy thing to do.
I haven't always been this way. But in the last decade or so I've grown up.
I guess we all grow up at our own pace.
And then today.
Today I quit therapy with the SECOND of the intern therapists that I have tried there. And I'm not going back.
I don't think that going to see the free therapist interns at my school is something that is going to be good for me.
My school does not have the best of facilities and today we had to meet in a different office.
The 'office' was located in the same section of offices as my English Professor.
And I don't like my personal life being noted-upon by my professors. And this is the second time we have had to meet in this room. It really bothers me.
And also, the new intern therapist I have....she always asks me the same questions.
And I keep giving her the same answers.
And it is simply ridiculous.
'What makes you happy?'
'I don't know what makes me happy.'
That is a very short version of the conversation.
But, it pretty much goes in circles.
Last week this was what she had decided.
That if I went and got the application at the sextoy store I wanted to work at that I could reward myself by going out for sushi.
Number One: I can't afford sushi right now. So, it wasn't happening anyway and I tried to explain this to her. But, I couldn't think of anything else that I like to do when she asked me what I like to do.
Number Two: It's not getting the application that is difficult for me. I have a PILE of applications. It is filling them out and bringing them in. It is not even the JOB OFFERS that are hard for me. I have many opportunities that pop-up all the time as the restaurant industry here is rather incestuous. The problem is banking in on one of these opportunities. I tried to explain this to her too. So, basically I was going to spend money on sushi by asking for an application I was going to ask for anyway the next time I bought lube to reward myself for adding another piece of paper to my pile. I told her this. I told her I thought it was ridiculous. But, she insisted that it might work. So, okay. So, I went to the store, bought my lube. Asked for an app. They are over-staffed and not hiring. Understandable. So, no sushi for me, which I would not have gotten anyway cos I simply don't have the money to do it after BUYING MY LOLLAPOLLOOZA TICKET. Yes, that was what I bought.
I don't know what to say to her anymore when she asks what makes me happy. It makes me cry when she asks me that. It makes me cry in the sideroom of the office in the same room as my English Professor and I am not going back.
It's SO retarded.
I need therapy that I cannot afford and don't know when I will be able to afford such a thing.
Cos this ain't it.
And going to my brother's shows causes me more stress and emotional problems than it does him for me not to be there for him and see his band despite how much I know it means to him that I go.
What would make me happy?
If boys I didn't want to speak to were not at my brother's shows. If my ex-boyfriend's stepfather didn't stare at me lasciviously whenever I WAS standing by myself simply because I had on cute heels and looked nice. (I get a look. A look. ONE look. Look. Admire. Stop looking. How hard is that?) Actually, my ex-boyfriend is really nice to me lately when I've been going to the shows. He's always been that. Nice.
See why I don't know what makes me happy? Nice guys do nothing for me. I don't want to talk to assholes at all. I don't like being stared at.
So, what? Wearing high heels alone in the privacy of no one's eyes would make me happy? I don't get how I am supposed to know what makes me happy?
I don't know how to answer her questions.
Because most days I just make my way through them until they are over, passing the time.
Just passing the time does not make me happy.
Yet I have not motivation to even bring back an application.
So, WHERE in that am I supposed to find the answer to her question each week when she asks me what makes me happy?
I am NOT going to continue to see her trying to answer a question that I don't know the answer to, OTHERWISE I WOULDN'T BE THERE, in an office situated next to my English Professor who made us talk about child abuse in class today, so I had to sit there an listen to crap from people who haven't a clue what child abuse is.
Except for maybe the one other kid who is as quiet as me.
So, I quit therapy and had an awful week and an awful day and I just want to pretend like none of it happened.
You know how I know I'm really in a bad place. I don't even feel like doing my math homework right now.
Yeah. I'm that pissed and upset and hurt and mad that I had to have therapy in that room again.
I am so glad I quit.
Cos I can't do it anymore.
I want to have a therapist who helps me learn how to talk about things better.
I want to have a therapist who is older than me.
And I want a therapist where we are in a room that is not a room at my school. I want them to be two separate worlds.
But, I can't afford that. So, right now I am better off with no therapy than crappy therapy.
I know these two girls tried. I know they did. I just don't think they know what to do with me.
That's okay. Cos I don't know what to do with me either.
I don't know if anyone ever will.
Not even me.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Nobody's guessed yet...
...so I'm just gonna keep posting videos.
La, la-la.
This will be fun because no one reads this.
So, I can just post videos every day.
Yay!
I've got a thing for the one in the top hat.
He'll have to leave the top hat on, though.
At least, until it falls off.
Monday, April 7, 2008
Guess what I bought today?
A Sexy Wah-Wah Head-bangin' Good Time.
Lastin' Three Days Straight.
On the Hottest Days of the Year!
How exciting!
Ooooo...
I drip at the thought.
Last time I went, I went home with a fishnet-patterned sunburn!
It was way kinds of cool.
Sunday, April 6, 2008
Friday, March 28, 2008
I Need To Write Maynard a Letter
So, I've been slightly busy with recent purchases that I've missed while embarked upon recent travels, but I'm back in the swing of things now.
Back at school again and hangin' in there with the therapy--I guess it's a pretty slow process and I'm not exactly sure what I expected.
I no longer have a crush on the boy in math class. Because he's just that--a boy. His mind continues to intrigue me, however.
I still have not found my swimsuit. I have called a couple vintage stores in town, nothing has really grabbed me as worthwhile in checking-out as of yet. I will find my suit, eventually.
Watched a Russian flick last night called Daywatch. Pretty amazing.
I wanted to read a play that we have to read for English while I was in Florida, Angels in America. But, I did not get around to doing that. It's not due for another month. But, now that I'm back in my routine at home, I'd like to try and finish it this weekend.
Tonight I am having dinner with my brother at a restaurant that recently opened down the street from us. He lives in the same apartment building as myself. While visiting my mother, she gave me an Easter card to give to him, and that is our excuse for getting together and doing something funnish.
I tried to get my other brother to join us, because I have one for him too, but he's not really into doing such things. He's a little weird. In a good way, though.
I just finished taking a bath and am listening to A Perfect Circle covering Marvin Gaye, among others. One thing that I missed terribly when in Florida was taking baths. They are so relaxing to me. I love to relax in the tub.
And just chilling out listening to music. I missed that too.
Now I just need to go and pour myself a glass of wine.
Back at school again and hangin' in there with the therapy--I guess it's a pretty slow process and I'm not exactly sure what I expected.
I no longer have a crush on the boy in math class. Because he's just that--a boy. His mind continues to intrigue me, however.
I still have not found my swimsuit. I have called a couple vintage stores in town, nothing has really grabbed me as worthwhile in checking-out as of yet. I will find my suit, eventually.
Watched a Russian flick last night called Daywatch. Pretty amazing.
I wanted to read a play that we have to read for English while I was in Florida, Angels in America. But, I did not get around to doing that. It's not due for another month. But, now that I'm back in my routine at home, I'd like to try and finish it this weekend.
Tonight I am having dinner with my brother at a restaurant that recently opened down the street from us. He lives in the same apartment building as myself. While visiting my mother, she gave me an Easter card to give to him, and that is our excuse for getting together and doing something funnish.
I tried to get my other brother to join us, because I have one for him too, but he's not really into doing such things. He's a little weird. In a good way, though.
I just finished taking a bath and am listening to A Perfect Circle covering Marvin Gaye, among others. One thing that I missed terribly when in Florida was taking baths. They are so relaxing to me. I love to relax in the tub.
And just chilling out listening to music. I missed that too.
Now I just need to go and pour myself a glass of wine.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
I Feel Nice
So.
I'm doing much better.
I think I've just needed to get a few things out of my system and I have recently been able to do that and I've been feeling a LOT better after doing so.
Yay!
I also bought a new sextoy yesterday.
It's pink and it's pretty.
And it feels ohhhhhh....soooooo.....goooood.
The chick at the sextoy store was hot, too. So, that worked out well.
AND...it was on SALE.
Which is why I got it.
It's so cute and fun to look at, depending on the company--if I had company--I would not even put it away.
I also bought this AWESOME sextoy cleaner spray and I WISH I had bought this stuff in the past. It's amazingly too convenient.
The girl at the sextoy store even fills your lovelilicious purchase with batteries FOR you so that when you get home, you are all ready to go.
What a service.
~ bang the gong
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Sunday, March 9, 2008
Saturday, March 8, 2008
My New Therapist
It's almost three o'clock in the morning and I cannot sleep.
I started therapy on Wednesday and one of the things my new therapist asked of me was how I sleep. I've recently been sleeping slightly better, so I told her fine. I told her that I do not sleep well, but I was probably getting about six hours a night. I told her that I wake-up a lot though.
Now, I've been an insomniac since I was sixteen years old. Probably younger than that. But, it was at that age that I really realized there was something wrong with the way that I slept.
But, because I had a good week, I chose to lie to my therapist so that I wouldn't jinx it.
How is therapy going to work, if I am lying to my therapist about my sleeping patterns? It's completely ridiculous.
I am going to the free therapy at school.
This means that the therapist is an intern. She is a grad student.
She is younger than me and I think she is a lesbian. She is a tiny little girl with very short blond hair, a funny nose and glasses.
I don't think I'm going to be able to tell her anything I need to tell her about my thoughts.
But, I suppose free crappy therapy is better than no therapy at all.
So, I'm stickin' with it.
I mean, I know it's not supposed to be easy. But, I wanted a man therapist. An older man, maybe around fifty or so. Someone I could talk to about MEN.
And I get someone who I would bet money on her being a lesbian.
And I am not a betting kind of girl.
So, instead of me talking to her about a million things that have been bothering me with regards to the ending of my last relationship and the things I found myself doing while in it....I talked to her about stuff that I'm actually sort of okay with. I mean, not totally. But, just stuff that is NOT the things that are taking up all the time in my head and making me crazy.
I mean, seeing her is definitely not going to hurt things and will help some other things. But, it will NOT help me to fix the things that I really need to fix, cos I know I'll never talk to her about them.
I mean, at first, I thought it went really good, cos I felt great because I had ACTUALLY went and did this thing. This thing I've been saying I'm going to do for ages and ages and have not done and was so proud of myself and now it's been a couple days and the euphoric pride has worn away and I'm realizing that I am not sure I can ever talk to this poor girl.
I'm not giving up hope, however. I mean, I may have just thrown her for a big ol' loop when I first sat down with her and when she goes back to think about how to approach me maybe she'll be different. I don't know.
But, I know that if she isn't the type to say too much, then all I am going to have to go on is appearances and I need something I can look at and talk to about what is on my mind all the fucking time driving me batty and insane.
And I know that feeling never came one time when I was sitting there with her for an hour.
Nothing I intended to discuss or talk about came out of my mouth. Not a thing. Nothing that I write about and I know is on my mind all the time. It was only mundane stuff that is in the back of my head sometimes.
It's not a trust thing. It's probably my own little issues that I have based upon one session and her looks.
Anyhow, this weekend I really have to start getting my act together with regards to making sure I have my shit in order before I leave for Spring Break.
I need a swimsuit.
In case, you know, I go swimming.
I started therapy on Wednesday and one of the things my new therapist asked of me was how I sleep. I've recently been sleeping slightly better, so I told her fine. I told her that I do not sleep well, but I was probably getting about six hours a night. I told her that I wake-up a lot though.
Now, I've been an insomniac since I was sixteen years old. Probably younger than that. But, it was at that age that I really realized there was something wrong with the way that I slept.
But, because I had a good week, I chose to lie to my therapist so that I wouldn't jinx it.
How is therapy going to work, if I am lying to my therapist about my sleeping patterns? It's completely ridiculous.
I am going to the free therapy at school.
This means that the therapist is an intern. She is a grad student.
She is younger than me and I think she is a lesbian. She is a tiny little girl with very short blond hair, a funny nose and glasses.
I don't think I'm going to be able to tell her anything I need to tell her about my thoughts.
But, I suppose free crappy therapy is better than no therapy at all.
So, I'm stickin' with it.
I mean, I know it's not supposed to be easy. But, I wanted a man therapist. An older man, maybe around fifty or so. Someone I could talk to about MEN.
And I get someone who I would bet money on her being a lesbian.
And I am not a betting kind of girl.
So, instead of me talking to her about a million things that have been bothering me with regards to the ending of my last relationship and the things I found myself doing while in it....I talked to her about stuff that I'm actually sort of okay with. I mean, not totally. But, just stuff that is NOT the things that are taking up all the time in my head and making me crazy.
I mean, seeing her is definitely not going to hurt things and will help some other things. But, it will NOT help me to fix the things that I really need to fix, cos I know I'll never talk to her about them.
I mean, at first, I thought it went really good, cos I felt great because I had ACTUALLY went and did this thing. This thing I've been saying I'm going to do for ages and ages and have not done and was so proud of myself and now it's been a couple days and the euphoric pride has worn away and I'm realizing that I am not sure I can ever talk to this poor girl.
I'm not giving up hope, however. I mean, I may have just thrown her for a big ol' loop when I first sat down with her and when she goes back to think about how to approach me maybe she'll be different. I don't know.
But, I know that if she isn't the type to say too much, then all I am going to have to go on is appearances and I need something I can look at and talk to about what is on my mind all the fucking time driving me batty and insane.
And I know that feeling never came one time when I was sitting there with her for an hour.
Nothing I intended to discuss or talk about came out of my mouth. Not a thing. Nothing that I write about and I know is on my mind all the time. It was only mundane stuff that is in the back of my head sometimes.
It's not a trust thing. It's probably my own little issues that I have based upon one session and her looks.
Anyhow, this weekend I really have to start getting my act together with regards to making sure I have my shit in order before I leave for Spring Break.
I need a swimsuit.
In case, you know, I go swimming.
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
Nakedness
One thing that is cool about this blog, is that no one reads it.
It is like when I FIRST started to blog about two-and-a-half years ago.
No one read. I said whatever the FUCK I wanted to. And it didn't matter. It was the best feeling in the whole wide world, and it was what kept my blog going.
Here, I can do that again.
No one is ever going to read this, it seems like. So, I can say ANYTHING I damn well please.
However, tonight I don't have much to say. It's three o'clock in the morning and my radiator is keeping me up.
Not that it takes much to keep me up. I'd more than likely be up anyway.
I think I will turn my radiator off now, though. It's getting hot in here.
So, I've taken off all my clothes.
~Bang the Gong
It is like when I FIRST started to blog about two-and-a-half years ago.
No one read. I said whatever the FUCK I wanted to. And it didn't matter. It was the best feeling in the whole wide world, and it was what kept my blog going.
Here, I can do that again.
No one is ever going to read this, it seems like. So, I can say ANYTHING I damn well please.
However, tonight I don't have much to say. It's three o'clock in the morning and my radiator is keeping me up.
Not that it takes much to keep me up. I'd more than likely be up anyway.
I think I will turn my radiator off now, though. It's getting hot in here.
So, I've taken off all my clothes.
~Bang the Gong
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
Wellness and Shiny Black Nail Lacquer
Well, I have my math final tomorrow. I should do pretty well. It's a combo-class. That's why it's a final, as opposed to a mid-term.
I was supposed to help Hoot study, but she has the flu. She was chugging Robotussin straight from the bottle during class today. Hopefully she's able to remember some of what we went over. As opposed to like the imaginary numbers we were discussing becoming a part of her Tussin trip.
I have a small crush on one of the dudes from my math class. But, I found out today he's from the suburbs. I mean, not just from the suburbs, but he's a commuter. Not a far suburb. He can still take the Blue Line. But, the suburbs nonetheless. I'm pretty picky. But, there's lots of reasons he's just a crush. This is merely one of them. He's originally from Wisconsin. Yet, another reason. What is strange is that this is the second friend I've made this semester who hails from the dairy capital. Odd. (I seriously don't care where people are from....I am just trying to find reasons not to like him, cos he's a LOT younger than me. Which is THE reason. This is Windy humour. That is all. I grew-up in the 'burbs.)
I had an eyebrow appointment today. They're looking pretty stupendous. But, I won't get back in there until after Spring Break. I'm actually going to be in Florida for the first time in my life during Spring Break this year. I mean, I've been to Florida a few times before....just never during Spring Break. I leave on St. Patty's Day and get back on Easter.
I want to try and find a vintage 50's swimsuit to wear while I'm there. There's a store here that I LOVE that usually carries really unique pieces and I may try there. Polka-dots would be cool too. But, I'm not going to get my hopes up.
Black or red would be even cooler. But, again... I can probably just keep dreaming.
And I need to get my lawn mown. There's a new place that opened up down the street from me that is entirely cute and totally devoted to mowing a chick's lawn. I've been in there once, but only to get me some Tend Skin. Which is a wonder product, I must say.
Tomorrow I have my first appointment at the 'Wellness Center' at school at three p.m. I'm making an attempt to ensure that I don't go completely crazy. I figure it's probably best to keep my craziness level about where it's proceeded to go thus far, and not allow it to get too carried away with my mind. We'll see how it goes.
I also intend to get a manicure afterwards. I have this colour that I've been dying to do that I haven't done yet. It's called, 'Patent Leather.' It's fucking stellar.
And my toes are Cherry Red right now and it will be a nice contrast.
I watched this movie called the Mothman Prophecies tonight. Freaky, FREAKY shit. It's makin' me start thinking about a lot of stuff, cos I believe in all sorts of weird shit, and this movie is based upon real events. I sort of now want to look into the real events that this movie is based upon.
I need a new DVD player. This is because I bought my last DVD player at the Family Dollar for twenty dollars. I've had it for three months and now it will only play discs that are in tip-top condition. I rent movies and half of the ones I get won't play on my player. It sucks ass. So, a DVD player is on the top of my list. It plays new discs and burned discs. I don't know. I didn't think the Moth was gonna fly....but it did.
I have yogurt sitting here I need to eat.
~ bang the gong
I was supposed to help Hoot study, but she has the flu. She was chugging Robotussin straight from the bottle during class today. Hopefully she's able to remember some of what we went over. As opposed to like the imaginary numbers we were discussing becoming a part of her Tussin trip.
I have a small crush on one of the dudes from my math class. But, I found out today he's from the suburbs. I mean, not just from the suburbs, but he's a commuter. Not a far suburb. He can still take the Blue Line. But, the suburbs nonetheless. I'm pretty picky. But, there's lots of reasons he's just a crush. This is merely one of them. He's originally from Wisconsin. Yet, another reason. What is strange is that this is the second friend I've made this semester who hails from the dairy capital. Odd. (I seriously don't care where people are from....I am just trying to find reasons not to like him, cos he's a LOT younger than me. Which is THE reason. This is Windy humour. That is all. I grew-up in the 'burbs.)
I had an eyebrow appointment today. They're looking pretty stupendous. But, I won't get back in there until after Spring Break. I'm actually going to be in Florida for the first time in my life during Spring Break this year. I mean, I've been to Florida a few times before....just never during Spring Break. I leave on St. Patty's Day and get back on Easter.
I want to try and find a vintage 50's swimsuit to wear while I'm there. There's a store here that I LOVE that usually carries really unique pieces and I may try there. Polka-dots would be cool too. But, I'm not going to get my hopes up.
Black or red would be even cooler. But, again... I can probably just keep dreaming.
And I need to get my lawn mown. There's a new place that opened up down the street from me that is entirely cute and totally devoted to mowing a chick's lawn. I've been in there once, but only to get me some Tend Skin. Which is a wonder product, I must say.
Tomorrow I have my first appointment at the 'Wellness Center' at school at three p.m. I'm making an attempt to ensure that I don't go completely crazy. I figure it's probably best to keep my craziness level about where it's proceeded to go thus far, and not allow it to get too carried away with my mind. We'll see how it goes.
I also intend to get a manicure afterwards. I have this colour that I've been dying to do that I haven't done yet. It's called, 'Patent Leather.' It's fucking stellar.
And my toes are Cherry Red right now and it will be a nice contrast.
I watched this movie called the Mothman Prophecies tonight. Freaky, FREAKY shit. It's makin' me start thinking about a lot of stuff, cos I believe in all sorts of weird shit, and this movie is based upon real events. I sort of now want to look into the real events that this movie is based upon.
I need a new DVD player. This is because I bought my last DVD player at the Family Dollar for twenty dollars. I've had it for three months and now it will only play discs that are in tip-top condition. I rent movies and half of the ones I get won't play on my player. It sucks ass. So, a DVD player is on the top of my list. It plays new discs and burned discs. I don't know. I didn't think the Moth was gonna fly....but it did.
I have yogurt sitting here I need to eat.
~ bang the gong
Monday, March 3, 2008
Sunday, March 2, 2008
The First Step
I'm admitting something to myself today.
I think my ex lied to me the whole time I was with him. Like, pathological-style.
I'm also admitting that I think a part of me knew that the whole time and did not WANT to admit that I knew it because I was having some sort of fun, although exactly what kind of fun I was having I'm not sure. Cos it sure as Hell wasn't sexual. I think it was much more of some weird mental thing we had going on.
Anyhow, I'm admitting this to myself today so that I can just get him out of my head despite all of his unexplicable, (how the fuck do you spell unexplicable?) actions so that I won't let them bother me any longer.
I think it is the first step in my trying to achieve that non-bothered state.
I think he is one of those people who just doesn't know what he wants. I think he is one of those people with a very dual personality. And though, I truly believe that most humans have a sort of dual side thing goin' on....I just think he suffers from it in a way that is more hurtful to him than most. And therefore hurtful to others.
Anyhow, I have chosen to make my main blog private. I will probably switch my MySpace over to private as well. Even though I don't really use MySpace all that much. I think it is just a safer and wiser choice on my part. At least for now.
Still though, I don't like having it private. Which is why I am posting this here. Because first of all...private is a pain in my fucking ass. Second of all, what's the goddamned point? I don't get it. Know one who knows me is even welcome to read the thing in the first fucking place.
I don't want to keep it that way forever. But, it will be like that for quite awhile, I'm sure. For at least six months. I will probably un-privatize it, let's see today is March the 2nd.....so September 2nd. Let's see if I can go that long. That gives me awhile to get going with something at this blog and get into the groove of things here. It's been a difficult transition for me.
It really has.
It hasn't been easy in the least.
I called up the counseling center at my school today, so that I can make an appointment. There is apparently no one there on Sundays though, so I just left a message. I'm hoping to start something up on Wednesday after classes.
It's been really hard. I mean, I don't understand the concept of breaking up with someone and then reading their blog all the fucking time when you know they want you to stop. I knew he was sick and twisted when we started dating, it was why I liked him. But, I didn't think that he would be like THIS. I really didn't. I also knew he had mental problems because he told me about them and he showed me all the meds he's on. So, it's my own fault for getting involved in such a thing in the first fucking place.
Anyhow, so that is one of the things on my mind today. But, writing about it will get it out of there, which is the main reason why I blog to start with. I haven't been able to discuss my feelings openly on my other blog, though I have somewhat and not always completely directly in recent months. Because I knew he was there. Even when I didn't want to admit he was there, I knew he was there. It affects the content of my posts. Which defeats the entire purpose for me in posting whatsoever.
So, THIS.... feels DAMN fucking good.
On to other things.
I spent the day yesterday with my friend, Hoot. Hoot is hot. We are in math class together and she has been needing a little jump-start with some of the concepts, and I am more than happy to help her out in that department. We get along really well and have a great time.
I also got an application for a place I've been wanting to check-out for getting a job. However, all I got was an application, now I just need the motivation to arrive to actually fill it out and bring it in. We'll see what happens.
I did some light shopping as well. I got some Marine buttons to put on my Marine coat. It's a vintage Marine dress coat from the late sixties. It was my Dad's during Vietnam. I've worn it for many, MANY years. And things at the Military supply store are quite cheap, so I bought three other buttons there as well. But, only two are Marine Corps and those are the only two I put on my jacket. One pin is vintage Air Force design of a naked chick spread eagle over a rocket bomb. I have to figure out where I'm going to put that one because my backpack is already filled with buttons. I don't think there's room for anymore and for it to still look cool. You can't OVERDUE the buttons. Even though I do have a lot on there. Maybe I do have too many.... I should re-evaluate my backpack's button status. Hmmm.
I also bought a tee-shirt with a gas mask on it, the gas mask is surrounded by roses. This was from a different store, however.
And I deleted DW#1's number from my phone. More for symbolic reasons upon my mental state than anything else.
I bought a cheap PVC purse from Strange Cargo with a snake on it.
And I ate Subway.
I fucking love me some Subway.
For anyone who reads my old blog....that OF COURSE...is review for you.
~Bang the Gong.
I think my ex lied to me the whole time I was with him. Like, pathological-style.
I'm also admitting that I think a part of me knew that the whole time and did not WANT to admit that I knew it because I was having some sort of fun, although exactly what kind of fun I was having I'm not sure. Cos it sure as Hell wasn't sexual. I think it was much more of some weird mental thing we had going on.
Anyhow, I'm admitting this to myself today so that I can just get him out of my head despite all of his unexplicable, (how the fuck do you spell unexplicable?) actions so that I won't let them bother me any longer.
I think it is the first step in my trying to achieve that non-bothered state.
I think he is one of those people who just doesn't know what he wants. I think he is one of those people with a very dual personality. And though, I truly believe that most humans have a sort of dual side thing goin' on....I just think he suffers from it in a way that is more hurtful to him than most. And therefore hurtful to others.
Anyhow, I have chosen to make my main blog private. I will probably switch my MySpace over to private as well. Even though I don't really use MySpace all that much. I think it is just a safer and wiser choice on my part. At least for now.
Still though, I don't like having it private. Which is why I am posting this here. Because first of all...private is a pain in my fucking ass. Second of all, what's the goddamned point? I don't get it. Know one who knows me is even welcome to read the thing in the first fucking place.
I don't want to keep it that way forever. But, it will be like that for quite awhile, I'm sure. For at least six months. I will probably un-privatize it, let's see today is March the 2nd.....so September 2nd. Let's see if I can go that long. That gives me awhile to get going with something at this blog and get into the groove of things here. It's been a difficult transition for me.
It really has.
It hasn't been easy in the least.
I called up the counseling center at my school today, so that I can make an appointment. There is apparently no one there on Sundays though, so I just left a message. I'm hoping to start something up on Wednesday after classes.
It's been really hard. I mean, I don't understand the concept of breaking up with someone and then reading their blog all the fucking time when you know they want you to stop. I knew he was sick and twisted when we started dating, it was why I liked him. But, I didn't think that he would be like THIS. I really didn't. I also knew he had mental problems because he told me about them and he showed me all the meds he's on. So, it's my own fault for getting involved in such a thing in the first fucking place.
Anyhow, so that is one of the things on my mind today. But, writing about it will get it out of there, which is the main reason why I blog to start with. I haven't been able to discuss my feelings openly on my other blog, though I have somewhat and not always completely directly in recent months. Because I knew he was there. Even when I didn't want to admit he was there, I knew he was there. It affects the content of my posts. Which defeats the entire purpose for me in posting whatsoever.
So, THIS.... feels DAMN fucking good.
On to other things.
I spent the day yesterday with my friend, Hoot. Hoot is hot. We are in math class together and she has been needing a little jump-start with some of the concepts, and I am more than happy to help her out in that department. We get along really well and have a great time.
I also got an application for a place I've been wanting to check-out for getting a job. However, all I got was an application, now I just need the motivation to arrive to actually fill it out and bring it in. We'll see what happens.
I did some light shopping as well. I got some Marine buttons to put on my Marine coat. It's a vintage Marine dress coat from the late sixties. It was my Dad's during Vietnam. I've worn it for many, MANY years. And things at the Military supply store are quite cheap, so I bought three other buttons there as well. But, only two are Marine Corps and those are the only two I put on my jacket. One pin is vintage Air Force design of a naked chick spread eagle over a rocket bomb. I have to figure out where I'm going to put that one because my backpack is already filled with buttons. I don't think there's room for anymore and for it to still look cool. You can't OVERDUE the buttons. Even though I do have a lot on there. Maybe I do have too many.... I should re-evaluate my backpack's button status. Hmmm.
I also bought a tee-shirt with a gas mask on it, the gas mask is surrounded by roses. This was from a different store, however.
And I deleted DW#1's number from my phone. More for symbolic reasons upon my mental state than anything else.
I bought a cheap PVC purse from Strange Cargo with a snake on it.
And I ate Subway.
I fucking love me some Subway.
For anyone who reads my old blog....that OF COURSE...is review for you.
~Bang the Gong.
Friday, February 29, 2008
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
From the Desk of Coquette
This is my first post here and unfortunately it's not all that well thought-out.
This blog was created because I had another blog that I posted at almost every day for two-and-a-half years. Unfortunately, in recent months I have acquired not one, but two, blog-stalkers who actually know who I am. Perhaps, I will tell those tales in detail one day, perhaps not, as I don't think about those tales much except when I check my fucking stats. But, to give you the gist... One was a guy I dated and another is someone who I met through my blog who read a post I wrote on a local band. I've asked both of them to stop reading and neither one will do so and I know that there are laws against such things and I have been advised on this slightly....but I really don't want to go that route. I just want the both of them out of my fucking life. I made a couple mistakes. I don't want to have to think about them every goddamned day, ya know? You grow, you live, you learn, you adjust. That whole thing. Eventually I may have to do something about it, but I think I can hide this blog a bit better. Just sucks cos my old blog was my baby. Maybe one day they will both find little cupcakes to keep their mind off of dear Coquette....but until then. It's Dirty Sweet for me. I want them to be happy people. I do. I wish happiness for the masses. Happy is hot.
I had a second blog. But, one of them found that one too.
So, now here we go with the third and who knows, maybe the third blog will be my shining grace.
Again, I really don't know what to say right now. This blog was started on a whim. It will get better though. I promise.
I just really needed to start posting somewhere new and get it going to get my mind off of the loss of a SECOND blog.
I don't understand people sometimes.
Like, first of all, the guy I used to date who reads, BROKE UP WITH ME. It was not the other way around. So, why the FUCK would he get off on still reading my blog? It's so retarded. He's really young, so maybe that has something to do with it. Maybe I just don't think that way anymore. I don't know.
The other one, is seriously lonely or something. I'm not sure. Cos he's older. So, I guess age doesn't really have anything to do with it then, huh? It just has to do with the amount of retardedness and selfish prickishness that flows through your blood, I guess.
Well, that is all I have to write about for now.
Eventually, I'll have a profile.
Eventually, I will play with the colour scheme.
Eventually, I will be slightly more happy to be here.
Though, I am. I am really happy to be here, or I would not have created here.
It's just that I ADORED my old blog. It was a great big part of me. And I was beginning to really adore my second blog too. So, until I feel a bit more safe here, it may take me a bit to adore this one quite as much. Cos I have to get better at hiding my blog and being anon again. I guess the longer you blog, the more a part of your life it becomes, the more difficult that becomes.
But, that's alright. I'll figure it out.
Things will eventually fall into place how they are supposed to fall into place.
They always do.
And people eventually get what is coming to them when they are dickweeds. That is a given. I don't know one dickweed who hasn't had shit thrown back in his face. Not a one. Sometimes it takes a while, but shit gets thrown. The funny thing is when the shit continues to get thrown and they never, ever learn from it. I know a few dickweeds like that as well. Those dickweeds are actually pretty fucking funny dickweeds and all you can do is laugh.
I'm not sure what kind of dickweeds these two are. I haven't known either of them for all that long. Though, for their sake, let's all hope it's the former kind.
In fact, we'll give the younger one the benefit of the doubt and say he's Dickweed #1. And the older one, well....he's older, so he evidently hasn't learned much from his selfish behaviour, so we'll call him Dickweed #2.
Sounds pretty good to me.
Okay, now that that's all out of the way.....cos I guess it's good to admit right out exactly WHY this blog was born in the first place. It's like my little bastard blog. Ha.
But, the two dickweeds are not really much of a concern to me. I just don't want them reading my blog so that I can write about the things that go on in my life as I see fit to write about them WITHOUT being influenced by the fact that I have two pairs of unwanted prying eyes upon my words.
Cos I do have a lot of cool shit going on too, and I haven't been able to write about it and that has been hard for me. That's the stuff that's been taking up most of my time and thoughts.
So, I actually will not be writing much about the two Dickweeds after today.
And if one of the DW's find this blog....well, I'll try hiding better again next time.
But, it was necessary to get out the reasoning behind this blog's creation prior to actually beginning something here.
So, there ya go.
As I said, this wasn't all that well-planned....so this is all you're getting today.
Any and all insights into the matter, however, are truly appreciated. Especially if you have had experience with this before...on either end. Like if you're amongst the Dickweed types....how did that turn-out for you? I won't judge you. Feel free to vent here at Dirty Sweet. It is an open forum. Even for dickweeds.
Enjoy.
This blog was created because I had another blog that I posted at almost every day for two-and-a-half years. Unfortunately, in recent months I have acquired not one, but two, blog-stalkers who actually know who I am. Perhaps, I will tell those tales in detail one day, perhaps not, as I don't think about those tales much except when I check my fucking stats. But, to give you the gist... One was a guy I dated and another is someone who I met through my blog who read a post I wrote on a local band. I've asked both of them to stop reading and neither one will do so and I know that there are laws against such things and I have been advised on this slightly....but I really don't want to go that route. I just want the both of them out of my fucking life. I made a couple mistakes. I don't want to have to think about them every goddamned day, ya know? You grow, you live, you learn, you adjust. That whole thing. Eventually I may have to do something about it, but I think I can hide this blog a bit better. Just sucks cos my old blog was my baby. Maybe one day they will both find little cupcakes to keep their mind off of dear Coquette....but until then. It's Dirty Sweet for me. I want them to be happy people. I do. I wish happiness for the masses. Happy is hot.
I had a second blog. But, one of them found that one too.
So, now here we go with the third and who knows, maybe the third blog will be my shining grace.
Again, I really don't know what to say right now. This blog was started on a whim. It will get better though. I promise.
I just really needed to start posting somewhere new and get it going to get my mind off of the loss of a SECOND blog.
I don't understand people sometimes.
Like, first of all, the guy I used to date who reads, BROKE UP WITH ME. It was not the other way around. So, why the FUCK would he get off on still reading my blog? It's so retarded. He's really young, so maybe that has something to do with it. Maybe I just don't think that way anymore. I don't know.
The other one, is seriously lonely or something. I'm not sure. Cos he's older. So, I guess age doesn't really have anything to do with it then, huh? It just has to do with the amount of retardedness and selfish prickishness that flows through your blood, I guess.
Well, that is all I have to write about for now.
Eventually, I'll have a profile.
Eventually, I will play with the colour scheme.
Eventually, I will be slightly more happy to be here.
Though, I am. I am really happy to be here, or I would not have created here.
It's just that I ADORED my old blog. It was a great big part of me. And I was beginning to really adore my second blog too. So, until I feel a bit more safe here, it may take me a bit to adore this one quite as much. Cos I have to get better at hiding my blog and being anon again. I guess the longer you blog, the more a part of your life it becomes, the more difficult that becomes.
But, that's alright. I'll figure it out.
Things will eventually fall into place how they are supposed to fall into place.
They always do.
And people eventually get what is coming to them when they are dickweeds. That is a given. I don't know one dickweed who hasn't had shit thrown back in his face. Not a one. Sometimes it takes a while, but shit gets thrown. The funny thing is when the shit continues to get thrown and they never, ever learn from it. I know a few dickweeds like that as well. Those dickweeds are actually pretty fucking funny dickweeds and all you can do is laugh.
I'm not sure what kind of dickweeds these two are. I haven't known either of them for all that long. Though, for their sake, let's all hope it's the former kind.
In fact, we'll give the younger one the benefit of the doubt and say he's Dickweed #1. And the older one, well....he's older, so he evidently hasn't learned much from his selfish behaviour, so we'll call him Dickweed #2.
Sounds pretty good to me.
Okay, now that that's all out of the way.....cos I guess it's good to admit right out exactly WHY this blog was born in the first place. It's like my little bastard blog. Ha.
But, the two dickweeds are not really much of a concern to me. I just don't want them reading my blog so that I can write about the things that go on in my life as I see fit to write about them WITHOUT being influenced by the fact that I have two pairs of unwanted prying eyes upon my words.
Cos I do have a lot of cool shit going on too, and I haven't been able to write about it and that has been hard for me. That's the stuff that's been taking up most of my time and thoughts.
So, I actually will not be writing much about the two Dickweeds after today.
And if one of the DW's find this blog....well, I'll try hiding better again next time.
But, it was necessary to get out the reasoning behind this blog's creation prior to actually beginning something here.
So, there ya go.
As I said, this wasn't all that well-planned....so this is all you're getting today.
Any and all insights into the matter, however, are truly appreciated. Especially if you have had experience with this before...on either end. Like if you're amongst the Dickweed types....how did that turn-out for you? I won't judge you. Feel free to vent here at Dirty Sweet. It is an open forum. Even for dickweeds.
Enjoy.
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