Hallucinogenics arrrrrrrr fun?

So I am not a drug person. Birth control, caffeine, alcohol (occasionally), tylenol, that's about it for me.... I don't mind too much if others do it but I like them to keep it away from me. I've never tried anything, and don't feel the least bit deprived by that. I'm aware I have an addictive personality, and they're illegal, and my past family experiences tell me they take you out of control of yourself. That's just not interesting to me.

However, my sleep problems have reached epic proportions this year, and I finally decided to turn to medication for help. The latest drug they gave me was Ambien CR, specifically for insomnia. The first few nights were awesome. I already felt the anxiety receding and the depression dying by the second day on the med. I felt like me. I had energy again, I was dynamic, and funny, and liked my life again. It was GREAT. It doesn't knock me out, but it does keep me asleep which is what I need the most help with. The last time I checked how often I wake up in a night it's once an hour, usually MORE. (It's weird to me to sleep 8 hours though, I feel like my day is over when I get up.) I didn't take it this weekend, so I could drink. I slept terrible the first night and the second I was so tired I slept a little bit, but not well. Sunday I was so excited to take it again, and sleep well again. So I took it that night... but I had forgotten to eat dinner, so I had a little bit to eat right before bed (my therapist told me not to go to bed hungry). Within 10 minutes that night of taking the med, I felt wrong. It felt like the room was moving, I could tell my speech was impaired.... I thought this was funny. So I went to bed (at SP's house of course) and the bed promptly became a pirate ship. Complete with pirates, and a kraken off in the ocean, menacing us. The ocean was rocking the ship, the kraken would approach and recede, and the pirates were all around (none of them looked like that photo above though, DAMN IT). I have had lots of hallucinations before during bouts of sleep paralysis, they were always realistic and I could never move... but I knew what was up. So it was cracking me up, I kept giggling, and in my head I was saying "You're in SP's bed, you're hallucinating, there is no ocean, there is no boat, there are no pirates and no monster. " I was totally fine with it, so fine I had crazy sex I don't remember a moment of. SP had no idea I was hallucinating, he said I was gigglier than normal but that was it. Nice, hahaha. At some point I passed out, and woke up almost 10 hours later. I got in the car to go home, was so hungry I had to stop at 10 am for chinese, then hit a trash can pulling into my drive (I have never EVER hit anything like that before).... then ran into the doorframe as I walked into my place. Both of which I found hilarious, side-splittingly funny, at the time. I ate the Chinese and passed out again on the couch. I only realized how messed up I had been when I came to a couple hours later. The drug had receded from my system... and my brain was back to being mine. Hell of a trip.

Apparently, food is a trigger. A very small percentage (around 1% I think) of people have this reaction to this med, but still.... my therapist telling me to not go to bed hungry??? Bad idea. She knew what I was on, haha, even if she wasn't a doctor... she could have looked this info up or asked one as easily as I did.... We're all lucky the only thing I knocked over was a trash can. I think no matter what I did it would have been funny to me.

Weekend Recap

I have been off having a fantastic time for the weekend (some pre-birthday celebrating) and - insert sarcasm - doing school work. The semester is officially in full swing. In fact, I'm in class right now, and I don't feel guilty about writing this now.

Mmm, I got my need to kiss a girl again satiated this weekend. I feel a little guilty that it was with my Frances' girl, he didn't seem upset, I didn't think he would be, I really really hope he wasn't (there's been no chance to ask him alone really).... it's the only thing I feel bad about from the weekend. I didn't want to kiss her really. Then the bouncer walked up and asked us if we would or something like that, and then she looked at me. She's very pretty, piercing blue eyes, soft hair, soft skin, sweet lips, etc. She looked at me in this undemanding way she has about her, a little hopeful (maybe it's been a while for her too??) and smiled. It was too much or something. I immediately was like: Self, wtf. Not ok. You said you wouldn't. I really want to talk to Frances about it, sigh. He didn't call today, and I didn't want to leave a VM about it. So I left two about other things. :(

Stupid alcohol and soft skin. They're such a potent combination. The funny part about it was, while it at least satisfied that need (which has been growing lately) I didn't feel anything. And as a person, I really liked her!! She's the kind of person I could be very good friends with, he could do a lot worse. ;) I also kissed and flashed my boobs to a bouncer, but it was more to get him to leave me/us alone. My prominent feelings at the time were somewhere along the lines of whatever, surely he'll leave if I do this. Which I know doesn't make much sense, that doesn't make men leave. He was somewhat verbally persistent and it was killing my buzz, what a bad reason, lol. I'm also not planning to tell SP about any of those things. My ex seemed ok with my activities (he said he was), which regularly involved flashing and kissing people... but I only used tongue with women, but I doubt he was ok with it in reality. SP has a more pronounced jealous streak already, and he's a recovering Catholic (my term for anyone who grew up with any Catholic influence, even if they reject it, and he does). No need for that kind of trouble, when I know I had already forgotten these things 2 days later without looking at photos and trying to remember. On another note: Our between the sheets chemistry has gone through the roof lately, I have all kinds of bruises, and it's fantastic. I have no idea what changed... maybe my other bestie moving away... I'm relying on him a lot more for my talking friend, my emotional stability friend, my right now person.... interesting that it's going so well. Haha.

I feel like I'm rarely getting to converse with anyone BUT SP.... everyone seems busy. My phone rarely rings. My messenger is fairly quiet. Ah well, this too shall pass. Everyone has lots of things going on, it's life.

This weekend I was all about trying to make people a little uncomfortable, for whatever reason.... here's one of the ways I did it....
I was in the bathroom in a huge sporting goods chain store. They were out of TP. We had to use paper towels, or 'rough it'. So I did this and then went to wash my hands. The idiot automatic sink would not acknowledge me no matter what I did. I sighed loudly at it and the woman next to me (40's? Fit, dressed boring but ok.) waiting on someone smiled and said, "Don't you hate when they do that?" At that moment, the water came on, and I squeaked in excitement as I smiled at her and replied, "Yes, I can't stand when some inanimate object won't validate my existence." That made her laugh, so I went on... "The best is the little thrill I get when the credit card machine tells me I'm approved." She laughed some more and made some comment along the lines of "It's funny how we respond to that" , so I went on.... "What does that say about me?, It makes me want to call my mother and tell her she didn't love me enough." I smiled, she laughed again but this time with some color in her cheeks and a bit of a nervous edge.
Mission Accomplished. :D

Things I am embarrassed by but not enough to keep to myself:

Inspired by a super old post on the bunny blog.
I'm not embarrassed by each of these things necessarily, but I definitely recognize their absurdity.

- I can lick my own nipples, at least I didn't figure it out by my own inspiration... it was because of my troublingly insatiable curiosity (once someone asked, I had to know).

- I am (also) abnormally proud when I outwit the cats.

- I get horny over electronics and techy stuff like digital cameras, flat-screen TV's, and the like.

- I was almost petrified to get my first plant, I didn't want to screw up such an easy and inanimate responsibility.

- I once made my step siblings believe in man-eating cows on a camping trip, causing no end of trouble for my mom at the time. And I didn't feel bad for it. It's one of my favorite and most vivid sibling memories. I didn't have siblings for long.

- I apologized to the first item I used to masturbate, it was a vibrating bunny key chain. Then I gave it a bath... and found something else less animate looking so I didn't have to feel bad about it anymore.

- My first best friend was a teddy bear.

- My teeth are abnormally sharp and strong. They've been filed down 3 separate times at the dentist, and yet I still regularly cut my tongue and the insides of my cheeks on them.

- I pour sweat, and it smells. I like it when no one else is around to make me feel unsocially acceptable. It proves I pushed myself.

- I think I love my cats more than I ever could another person - in a relationship, not a friendship.

- I hope that last one isn't true, but so far, it is - I trust them to love me.

- I thought about sex so much when I was younger that it made me too scared to masturbate. I was afraid if I started, I would never want to stop.

-I generally hate hearing what people think about my paintings. I didn't paint it for them. (Unless it's a commission, or a select few people.)

- I'm annoyingly long-winded. I annoy myself.

- I like weird movies, they make me feel smarter and sophisticated and I love being emotionally stimulated that way. Then I have an excuse for those feelings.

- I have ordered from infomercials due to insomnia. My logical, cynical chip goes to sleep before I do.

- I was given a flail and I have always wanted to hit a pumpkin with it, but I feel too guilty when I look at their awesome jack-o-lantern faces. Maybe I should try a watermelon.

- I think I'm addicted to ordering things off the internet, I make myself forget I ordered it so it's a 'gift' when it comes in the mail. Yay!

- I forgot one of my pairs of jeans has one ass cheek ripped out and have worn them twice now on accident, but I love to paint in them so I haven't thrown them away. I feel bad for the ugly looks I gave the people who stared at me or turned their kids away. I thought it was just because I was dressed grubby. I did this in high school once or twice too.

- I sometimes welcome sleep paralysis (which is accompanied by freaky hallucinations), because it's a legitimate excuse to miss class.

- I busted my teeth up into my gums, back down, and then completely out... all because I just KNEW I could fly and everyone was lying to me.

- I looove my finger length toes, I sometimes throw things to the cats with them just to throw them off.

- I have had a screaming fight with a spider AND with a spider-infested forest.

- I learned about what sex looks like when my mom fell asleep too early before the end of an R rated movie, so she didn't fast forward the parts I wasn't supposed to see. I rewound it a few times, but turned the volume off so she wouldn't know.

- I spent more on my cats (one had health issues) last year than myself. Ouch.

- I used to punish myself when I did something bad as a child.

- this list could go on, I'll have to try to remember to add to it later. :)

Land of Dairy: Sexual Etiquette

I still need to work on SP's sexual etiquette a bit.... let's think about this for a minute.

Men (yes, I am abusing the male stereotype here, but it's for the sake of being funny. Roll with it.) understand cars. They get that the engine requires oil. I have a very limited understanding of this myself, but I think it's something to do with pistons and revolutions or something and the need to lubricate this process in order for the car to continue to run smoothly... or work at all. There's the important concept: continued friction requires lubrication, or continued friction without lubrication is bad.

If men get that when it comes to cars, why not with women?? Women can actually FEEL and the parts of our body we are talking about having friction in and around are intensely sensitive. This concept should be a logical leap, and should make even more sense than the car stuff does.

Connect the dots, never touch a woman without some sort of lubrication. It can be her own, but if that is not yet in supply (or not in enough supply) or you just want to up the ante a bit, add some. Lube is a gift. A wonderful gift.

Moral: Friction without lube is bad. Anywhere, anytime. Thank you.

Therapy Round 2: Session 1

I have the easiest homework I've had in years.
- Try a new sleep med.
- Try to focus on good sleep hygiene, with a routine of at least 30 minutes.
- Make a Gene-o-graph... (family graph, women are circles, men are squares, hehe0
- Think about my anxieties and disappointments/stressors as they occur this week

I think I like this intern quite a bit, she's very focused, and she is happy with my self-awareness. She's not past-oriented, which doesn't suit me anyway, so that's good. Very CBT (cognitive-behavioral therapy). The doctor who has been prescribing my sleep meds felt it was time for a therapist's take too, but I beat her to that punch already. Which felt good. I like recognizing what I need before some random nurse practitioner does. The intern feels that the sleep issues are likely cumulative stress, and anxiety, and are resulting in a depressed mood. I prefer that take on things as well, and can agree with it.

Last semester severely inflated my fear of failure to panic attack inducing levels. I didn't fail, but it was much closer than it ever has been in my life and I felt entirely helpless and like my very best efforts were not enough. It was a terror-inducing chain of events, that lasted an entire semester. That's a pretty good way to kill motivation and activate anxiety. I was an official mess. Add to that my feeling like the dunce, the laggard, the outcast, and the worst of my department (which I'm not, but I FEEL like)... yeah, anxiety could be an issue. I regularly should all over myself as well, which leads to more anxiety and the cumulative stress issue.

I felt great about my first appointment, and like usual, just taking a proactive step helped the rest of the day get better. So here's to mental health, sleep, therapy, and conquering my silly demons. Bring it on.

First Kisses

I can remember my first kisses very clearly. This is remarkable for many reasons, one being my naturally selective and very hazy memory. The other being I don't remember very many things at all from before middle school. Seriously. I wish I knew why. Here they are for my memory and your reading pleasure:

My first kiss by a boy was in kindergarten. It was recess, a lovely day in the summertime that visits southeast Texas most of the year. We were running around our playground with all the wonderful toys they have since outlawed (metal slides that towered 20+ feet into the air with concrete at the bottom, swingsets not properly anchored into the ground, merry-go-rounds, a jungle gym that extended over 2 stories into the air, etc....). Somehow, for that one shining year, I was both popular and considered cute. These two adjectives would never apply to me again in conjunction while I was attending school. I honestly think this had to do with my complete boredom with everything school related, and my ensuing penchant for mischief. Everyone loves the class clown, and in this case even my teachers did because I was a 'smartass' rather than a 'dumbass' - thanks mom for labeling me so young. I already knew everything we were learning that year, and it left me so bored I was constantly coming up with ways to amuse myself. In fact, my teachers used to have me read books from upside down to the class, just to keep me busy and happily occupied for a little while..... So on that sunshine filled recess we were playing Tag on the playground... and suddenly the game was twisted. All the boys were to try to tag only the girls. I was wily back then as well, probably from playing with my crazy male cousins all the time. So I was THE girl to catch. This was proving extremely difficult to my sweaty, grinning delight. I was such a small imp then, with light brown long hair and slightly crossed eyes, yet I was still outrunning them all. I'm sure it was infuriating. Especially because I had an advanced vocabulary and adored taunting them with it. I had the kindergarten equivalent of sparkling and cutting wit at my disposal thanks to my constant exposure to books and adults who treated me as an equal. I can only imagine how galling this must have been. I wish I knew the things I said, maybe something along the lines of: "Nanny nanny boo boo, you can't catch me!" Quickly the game changed from boys against the girls, to boys against ME. JUST ME. And due to my taunting, they decided that whoever caught me or was instrumental in how I was caught was going to kiss me and infect me with boy cooties for my insolence.

Now it was a game of hope, I was hoping to be saved by the whistle to return inside. The boys were hoping to corner me before that could occur. The traitorous girls in my grade abandoned my cause to go play hopscotch at this turn of events. Maybe this is the seed that has since made my friendships with girls generally much more strained than those with boys. This early, easy betrayal en masse when I was clearly in need!! There were cooties on the line here!! To make this story a bit shorter, minutes before the whistle, I was cornered. BUT the slide was in sight. So I climbed it.... I have ever since ridiculed every idiot in a movie that chooses to escape UP a flight of stairs in a house, building, etc. There is no escape by going UP to a level you then eventually have to come down from, idiots. In my panic though... that is just what I did. I chose up rather than away. The boys quickly surrounded the bottom of the slide, and gave their leader the privilege of climbing the stairs behind me. Brent Heidrickson.... as he climbed I can remember how the sun felt, how cute I had always thought he was (incidentally he was the strong, silent one of the boys in our grade and was more of a ringleader than a follower like I was - the slide entrapment had been his idea. My youngest step brother would end up looking much like he did when he turned 5 as well), and well... I can spell his name today. What the hell?? That's something. He followed me up, I slid down the slide even though I knew it was futile... I landed in a sea of boys below. They caught me gingerly, then let go and formed a cautious ring, ready to catch me again if I tried to break and run. I was defeated. Brent slid down the slide, and grinned at me. The little bastard. I made a face at him, and he walked up, put both hands on my shoulders and kissed me just like that. Just a soft peck on the lips. Then the boys all cheered, I swiped my face off and spat on the ground, he smiled and trotted off like he knew a secret I didn't. Then the whistle blew, and inside we went. It never happened again, but when I had my next nightmare about Gremlins, he was with me in it. He put me on his shoulders (he was much bigger than I was) to save me from them when we were marooned in the school cafeteria... surrounded by fog and windows filled with Gremlin eyes......

I don't remember my first kiss with someone male after that... I know the first romantic one was from a guy named Justin in middle school... but it was on the hand, never the lips. He and I had a penchant for Genesis & Phil Collins that has stuck with me my entire life. He also introduced me to comic books, sex play with dolls - ahem - action figures (Venom and Catwoman was my fave pairing), and Interview with a Vampire. He wanted to 'go out' in middle school... I didn't. He said I broke his heart. I've seen him in and out of my life since then, and often wondered 'what if' but he often seemed more broken than I am with less reason and less self-awareness. Plus he became obsessed with wrestling and playboy and substance abuse. If only he had become obsessed with MMA, kink.com, and anything else but that... we would have been a match made in heaven. Interesting how close your interests can be, but just not quite right. When I was between relationships, I arranged to see him on a trip back home once... and I wanted to have sex with him. I went to his place purposely. Because we both knew he was the first I ever seriously thought about it with, and vice versa. The substances got in the way. If he could have just not done it for the couple of hours I was there, I might have overlooked it just for that... even though it's my #1 rule. Don't care if you do it, but not if you're with me and you can't do it around me if you're my friend. I ended up talking to his mom for hours. :) Funny how these things work out.

After that there was Russell.... the guy from church. That was not romantic... but it would have been my first mouth kiss in and around puberty. Maybe that's why I don't remember it. Skipping him - Jason maybe? Oh yeah, I let him kiss me, but no tongue. It drove him nuts. I would let him touch me but not in zones containing particular body parts. I had no clue that was hot foreplay to some, I just didn't like him that much. I liked dating him because he was a junior, and I was a freshman. I had recently re-emerged from awkwardness into cuteness, but I didn't know it yet. My first tongue kiss was with Sam. Sam was adorable, I miss him with a fondness like I would someone else's puppy that I liked to be followed around by when at their house. He was hot, red hair, blue eyes, so tall with long, lean muscles. He was a ballet dancer and in JROTC. I saw him first in a uniform, humina humina. He introduced me to the make-out and to the feelings they can spark. During this relationship I discovered a vibrating bunny keychain and the magic powers it had and the guilt it engendered. Still, I don't remember our first kiss. I do remember getting in trouble for a public makeout session at the Rodeo in Houston in front of all my mom's friends. That's probably the most rebellious thing I ever did. It wasn't even for that reason, it was just that I was in the first flush of hormones, and Sam had an AMAZING ass... which he had put into skintight jeans for the occasion. In fact, I now refute any guilt I felt for those actions, any sane girl who likes asses would have been helpless in its power.

My family at one point was terrified I would be a lesbian. I had such a terrible childhood history with men, and was sometimes venomous in my discussion of them. I clearly remember my When I Grow Up speech.... it went something like: "When I grow up I'm going to find an old very rich man to marry, inherit all of his money when he passes away, and use it to live alone in a big house and foster all the children and pets no one wants there." Then when I was completely oblivious to them until high school... they were scared. It's why my mom let me start dating at 14, that and my pledge to myself to save myself for marriage. Mom knew even then no one but me would change my mind, and she was right to trust that, no one but me ever did. Even after I began dating at 14 my mom's fear went on, she's never told me if there were indicators or not. I know in my mind there were, but I still wonder if she knew (like many parents of homosexual children will say that they did) for some actual reason. I treated the guys I dated like kleenex for a long time, imposing tons of rules, and breaking up with them all at a month and a half to the day. I just didn't seem to care about them, because I didn't. I think she was secretly happy when I got caught making out with Sam. It was her first proof that I might not turn out to be a lesbian and humiliate my entire family.

I remember in extreme detail my first kiss from a woman. It wasn't on the mouth, but the shock it sent through my body seemed to confirm all of my own years of suspicion. I didn't know what I was, because I clearly liked boys. I had been in a serious relationship with one for a long time, I had finally had sex with him after dating for 3 years and leaving the church and most of my Christianity behind.... I loved it. Sex was amazing. I found myself increasingly aware of women, I didn't allow myself to be aware of men because it felt like cheating. Women though.... mmm, I loved looking at them. My art revolved around their bodies. My relationship began unraveling, I wanted to have a 3some. My boyfriend had always said he wanted this, but I think it was idle chatter. He was supposed to want it, but he was actually jealous of anyone else having my attention. I decided to go on a vacation without him to see my Cami after my goddaughter was born, since they had never gotten along. I was not a very good friend to her on that trip, and it was all my fault. Oh well, that time has passed. I had the opportunity to meet some on-line friends on that trip. I met one and we ended up being best friends for years, I met another and he and I are still best friends to this day. We also all decided to attend a gathering for the on-line game we had all met through together.... it was a hotel party. There was alcohol (something I had just started experimenting with) but I didn't get drunk. I was high on feeling free from my failing relationship, from my confusion over Cami and knowing I was letting her down but at the time I didn't see why, at feeling popular in this group and everyone telling me how pretty I was in real life. I was one of the handful of girls who played, and the others there were very attractive, and all very affectionate with one another. One openly wanted to have sex with me.... while I had imagined this... I never thought someone would offer like that! She was much too aggressive, much too drunk, and I felt like she was offering because she was having relationship problems... which she and her creepy as shit boyfriend kept cornering me to tell me about. They also kept cornering me to tell me about his cock. Cornering someone is a bad move, especially me since I have space issues and am small which means I get really uncomfortable with shows of physical intimidation unless it's invited. Finally someone packed them off to another room... and then it was me and these two gorgeous blondes. One kept asking me if she should sleep with this one poor sad sack of a guy, I took one look at his Thundercats T-shirt and said no. "No, you shouldn't, and you'll thank me in the morning." The other mysteriously disappeared to another room for the night with the hottest guy who had the highest leveled character there.

So Q and I decided to share a hotel bed. She was everything I wasn't back then, outrageously outgoing, intensely sex-oriented, model-thin, perfectly straight blonde hair, witty, intelligent, geeky, comfortable with alcohol and making a fool of herself, and a bitch... and I was already half in love with this personality explosion that I had not seen in action before. So I was standing next to the bed talking to someone, she came up behind me on the bed, brushed my hair aside, and kissed me on the neck. I'll bet she doesn't remember this at all. I will remember forever the fact that my knees nearly buckled. I know my eyes glazed over, I took a deep breath in and forgot to let it out.... and I leaned. Back, into her softness. She giggled. I was smitten. I was in that bed in my pajamas next to her as fast as I could be. Hands were everywhere.... and her mouth.... It was so soft and wonderful, and faintly tasted of cherries... even though we had both brushed our teeth. I'm the aggressor when I kiss women I have found, but not usually with men. She yielded to me, and it was something I have never felt before. My body was in a fever pitch, my soul was soaring. And I knew what would feel good for her, that was what was so amazing. The guesswork wasn't needed. It may not be that way for everyone, but for me with her it was. That was intoxicating too. She wanted to have oral sex with me that night, but I wouldn't cheat. I called my boyfriend and begged him, he said no. So I didn't. I wanted to go ahead and give her an orgasm, but she wouldn't if I wouldn't. So we lay in one another's arms instead, me burning against her seemingly infinite softness. She giggled again and said how little I was before she fell asleep, I laughed too. And those kisses were amazing. Q put a spell on me that would kill one of my serious relationships, many of my friendships, and would eventually make me a little insane (I have since recovered). With one kiss. One little kiss to the side of my neck, in that perfect spot where it meets my shoulder.

The aftershocks of that kiss forever changed me. Lately I've been thinking about it a lot too, thanks to the very popular I Kissed a Girl and I Liked It song by Katy Perry... who used to be a Christian singer. I love belting that song in the car right now, at the top of my lungs. I've been dreaming about women a bit lately too. In one of the dreams it was me, this gorgeous girl, and SP..... we were braiding a chain around her neck. Then he morphed into Robert DeNiro and it got violent, I fought him off, saving her from asphyxiation.... and she and I proceeded to have some intimate moments. I have had so few sex dreams that were actual dreams, not daydreams, I can count them on one hand. It was interesting, but since SP doesn't like to listen to people's dreams, I didn't share.

Love and Like

Recently someone I deeply care about but don't know as well as I want to, my Cami, fell in love. It's beautiful, and hopeful, and lovely. I feel so happy for her, for this turn of events. She's one of the most deserving people I know, who has yet to be appreciated for who she is and what she could bring to someone's life. When I used to pray, I used to pray for this for her. I have worried for years that it wouldn't happen, but felt more hope in her case than I now do for mine... All because she keeps the door open. No matter how much she has been through, and it's a lot, she has kept that door open to love. To be loved, and to give love. She's so willing to enter into things (or at least this is how it looks from the outside) and give it a try. You know what I would really like now? To attend her wedding, since I think one day she'd like to have one. To watch her smile and kiss her groom and see her live happily with her life entwined with someone who she loves and trusts her daughter with for the rest of her life. She's so deserving, and I dreamed about this the next night after I read how she feels about him. I hope it's one of those dreams that comes true.

With that door open to love there are so many more chances!! And this time, when she fell, she fell fast. So did he. While it's a bit mushier looking from the outside than I think I would like in a relationship, haha, it's sooo cute and happiness inducing at the same time. (Then again, I can be quite silly amounts of romantic when it's reciprocated. I gave up on that years ago now.) She sounds happy, the photos make her look happy, and it gives me a vicarious warm fuzzy for her, it makes me want to meet him, to see them together.

I know that's how all the romances say it happens. Movies and books sometimes ruin us for the times when love is hard, because they make it sound like it's always supposed to be easy or it isn't true love. Magazines don't help either, stating DO THIS and all will be perfect. Which is bull. Still.... I think there is something to be said for falling fast. There's also something to be said for going through something adverse early on, it either breaks you up or makes you that much closer. They have, and are that much closer I think (mind you, this is all vicarious, we live much too far apart for my total happiness and don't talk enough for me to really know).

When I have allowed myself to fall fast for someone, I devoted my all to those relationships. Sadly, they didn't always work out... but it was not for my lack of trying. I hate that relationships are the one thing you can give your everything to and still have them fail. I hate that the addage: put in what you want to get out - doesn't apply to them. I HATE when people tell me that too, because sure it works in a healthy relationship... but in an unhealthy one you just end up abused and overextended. I think when you devote your mind to being in love, it's more likely to last, you're more likely to be less conditional with it, you're more likely to make it work because you believe in it wholeheartedly (forgive the pun here). That's all love is, a belief in someone and in your being together. So when you allow yourself to fall hard for someone and fast, and choose to believe in it deeply, it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. My favorite kind of prophecy.

That's what scares me. I'm afraid to believe in love anymore. I've felt lost, and broken, and discarded by overextending my belief in an 'us' that was only being sustained by me. The last time it happened it took me over a year to recover... which disgusts me. Now I'm terrified to let go and love someone completely. It scares me that I'll stay so guarded that I won't want to do it again. As of today I've been in a relationship with SP for close to or over a year, depending on how you look at it(from when we had THE conversation and when we met, respectively).... and I let myself love him occasionally. I said it first, by almost two months. That makes no difference to me surprisingly. He says it to me very rarely (3 times total? I think?). I'm much more comfortable saying, "I really like you." I think he is too. Sometimes that thought alone makes me wonder if we are doomed.

Land of Dairy: Commitment Revisited

SP's and my communication is up 400% or more since the trip. This COULD work maybe for a little bit. Again... lol... look at all those IF and SHORT TERM words. I can't even think about committing without feeling odd. I KNOW that what I really want in my life is a forever. Deep, deep, deep down.... I'm a romantic. My own brand of romantic for sure, but definitely a romantic. I am capable of lifetime love. I'd prefer to be allowed some openness in sexual expression in that love (women or men depending on what gender I am with, threesomes, all sorts of play but only for both of us together), but I am likely capable of subsisting on love without that (as long as there is sexual spice). I want the love my father and my family never gave me. I want the unconditional. I want the commitment. Shit, for that I'd probably even take marriage.

If I'm completely, 100% honest with myself I know that yes I would like to be married one day - not necessarily in the eyes of the government or the church but at least in the eyes of myself and the person I am with. I like living with someone. I like the knowing, the sex on tap, the commune with another person who cares about you. I prefer living in a relationship, though I'm no slouch out of one either. I like myself most of the time, but I have no belief that anyone else will. Maybe it's my abandonment issues rearing their ugly head on that one, who knows.

Oddly enough I have started to view child rearing as more of a challenge and to think I might just have something special to offer a child one day too. Let's not get carried away with that though, it's a passing idea, my gut reaction remains NOT ME. Adoption looks sort of like a boot leather sirloin would next to a chateaubriand life of no kids at all to me. That's the only change though, is that now they both at least look edible. Before this last year adoption looked like eating cat poop would next to the glorious steak experience that is a perfect chateaubriand. Just for frame of reference.

The more I force myself to think about these thoughts I avoid, the more comfortable I become with them. That's the idea... I hope I can open my own door again.

Land of Dairy: Bathroom Misunderstanding

Ok. So growing up in the deep South, even though I did so from 3rd grade on in the big ole' city of Houston... some things get absorbed without you even noticing. Call it familial osmosis. Some random stupid things and some great things get absorbed by your childhood irrational mind without your consent. For example: I'm usually polite, I know what good etiquette is even if I don't choose to follow it all the time. I like to be on time, I can handle heat outside if I need to, I'm not afraid of water even when I can't see through it, the list could go on. One of the weird strange stupid things though is that... my bladder can be shy. My grandmother taught me that girls don't admit that they have a TOM or that they poop, my mom reinforced this by being ashamed of herself for pooping too. Some excerpts from my grandmother's teachings and my mom's actions: If you have to dispose of feminine products, you cover them up in the trash COMPLETELY no matter if it takes an entire roll of toilet paper. If you do have to go to the bathroom you never say why, or if pressed say you have to pee. Never leave a smell in the bathroom, and if you need to spray air freshener do so when you are flushing the toilet because then no one will hear you spray it. If you have to pass gas, and you should NEVER need to then do so in some way where no one ever knows. My mom wouldn't even do so post-hysterectomy until the doctor told her she had to or she couldn't leave the hospital. She was absolutely mortified when he then made her do it with him and I in the room to prove that she did. THAT was funny.

At least I'm not as much a slave to this stupid brainwashing as my poor mother is. Think shitbreak from American Pie. She can't go to the bathroom in a hotel room with anyone else present. Her boyfriend of 6 years has never been in the same house with her when she took a poo. Ever. On a cruise we took she had to have us leave the room, go to a different deck, and then we'd all catch up to get off the boat for the day. She goes days without sometimes it's so shy. Think Elliot from Scrubs but less adorably neurotic and more insane. She can with me around at least... yay me???

Moving on.... SP's family's house on the farm has 1.5 baths, but I didn't discover the .5 until day 3. The one main bath is literally in the center of the house. I have very good hearing, though I found out later no one who works on or grew up on a farm does thanks to all the equipment, guns, etc. I could hear what was going on in this bathroom in every room of the house (unless TV's were on very loudly and then that only saved the inhabitants of that room), including the basement thanks to the laundry chute right next to the toilet. This freaked me out intensely upon arriving there after a 16 hour car ride. How could I do the no-no in this house?! Somehow I can go ok in public places as long as no one else is in the public bathroom.... and I was flooded with thoughts of how that was going to work out over 12 days!! Immediate deep south terror! None of which would I DARE tell my boyfriend because I can't TALK about these things!!! That would be worse than the fact that I don't actually poop candy.

I ran the shower while I peed the first time, then I went to shower after I was done. That first night there we actually went to a friend's of his, and they had 2 bathrooms far from the action!!! I was so relieved it was ridiculous. They tried to get me drunk. I proceeded to make drunken comment about bathrooms that somehow got misconstrued as me being a pretentious Texan who expected all houses to be large and have multiple bathrooms. Which pissed off SP, who of course in his drink enhanced state pressed the issue and called me a pretentious Texan. I spluttered and apologized and told him he misconstrued my comment. He asked how. I was speechless. There was no way I could explain this to him... and his friends. In fact, I was paralyzed trying to decide what was better... these people thinking I was a bitch (this was his best friend and the wife of the best friend etc., important people in other words) or them knowing I poop. I couldn't make myself admit to the poop. I felt like such an ass for making myself look like a bitch to hide my sad inability to poop rainbows.

I FINALLY broke down and told SP what that was all about on the drive back from WI (11 days after this happened). He laughed his ass off at me, then of course asked why I didn't just say so... told me it was much much worse to leave it the way I did, blah blah. I'm still sad I actually poop regular poop though. :(

A little healthy self-back-talk!!

<-- From someecards.

I got 2 hours of consecutive sleep yesterday, and then again last night. I finally just literally passed out on the couch in the middle of reading something yesterday afternoon. 2 hours later I woke up, realized I had 2 cats on me, the window open with the train going by, and the TV up so loud to cover the train sound my neighbors must have thought I was an 80 year old deaf woman (thank god none of them share a wall with my living room)... and passed out a bit again. I felt much more myself and much more normal last night. Then I got some good nookie (I'm noticing that the more I trust SP the better it gets, SURPRISE stupid girl), laid in bed a lot, slept some - at least 2 more consecutive hours somewhere this morning after 8 am -, dreamed a lot, talked to SP in his sleep - he does that a lot, it's funny when he talks TO me though in complete gibberish and seems disgusted when I respond with 'what?', all with his eyes closed -, and recommitted to knowing that I can get back to the person I love being.

I remember her in an abstract way....the go-getter, the girl who did more than sit in front of the TV all the time, or a book, or a blog. I can do more than escape. I can be happy, and I will be. Monday I'm going to try sleep med #5 (I have to go in and get a new prescription again) and I'm going to start using my sleep mask more often. It seems high maintenance, but seriously, what's more important here??? Being a functional human being, or seeming high maintenance??!

I need to stop hiding myself too, I think a lot of my energy goes into that. That actually is an idea that makes me feel so relieved. And like a weight lifted. As my darling cat sleeps pressed against my thigh, purring, I know that the person he loves so much is pretty interesting. She doesn't need to flaunt her bi-ness to her family, but she can still be bi and happy about it. I used to love to live out loud. This bible belt mentality has really gotten to me, so have my own department's infestation of judgmental Christians (nothing against Christians in general, but these are the ones that give them a bad name), so has the fact that as a student teacher in a small college town I run into students regularly when I go just about anywhere outside of my house, all of this has seeped in. But you know what?? I got accepted into this program AS IS, I taught and mostly did a good job of it AS IS, I have continued to succeed in my classes and on all the projects I have taken on AS IS. I always expect myself to be perfect. I beat myself up constantly for needing to use beauty products, for needing to conceal parts of myself, for not being a naturally good sleeper, for not effortlessly having a perfect body (my mom tricked me into thinking she did while I was growing up, but it was actually cocaine), for my cats not adoring one another naturally, for not being a perfect TA who got through to all her students and was adored and almost their friend too, for not being everyone's favorite person and making everyone happy, for my apartment not being as cool as that one I saw in ____ magazine, etc. That's so stupid and exhausting. And today, I tell that perfectionistic voice in my head to leave me alone.

Sometimes, being realistic only brings you down....

I am creative, pretty, intelligent, young, able-bodied, somewhat healthy, etc. Those are huge gifts that not everyone has and I have them all!!! No I am not the most creative (just among my friends I can think of those more creative than I am), prettiest (we all know just from watching TV or stepping outside our doors when we see an ad that we aren't the prettiest - living in a college town reminds me of that too fairly often), or most intelligent.... but so what?? I'm still important to myself and those who love me! Even if I wasn't, I'm HERE. I may as well make being here a happy time, a fun life, and TRY to do what I want!! If you don't try, you can't succeed - Duh. I've been living a life devoid of trying for some time. I feel like I am full of duh moments this week. Annoying.

Graduate school has definitely messed with my internal compass, I like to work. I like to see the results of my work. I am best when I have a lot of responsibility to someone else. I like to put others first. My relationship ups and downs, living alone, focus on the self, etc. has really made me forget that I love to do things for others too. I get more out of it, and it limits my veruca-salt-ism. I don't want THINGS so much when I feel fulfilled and happy with myself. Grad school consistently fills me with this idea that I am not good enough, with imposter syndrome. Everyone is very critical of your performance... all my peers here also seem to think they are better than I am. That idea has seeped into me as well. I don't have to allow it to do that. And I am not going to anymore. In fact, I think it's time to go paint a little bit. :D

The Ruling: I'm 'not happy'

<-- From Post Secret.

At least therapy is free here. My school insurance won't cover any part of sleep aides, not enough of birth control costs, no emergency contraceptives (though they will provide it), and is horrible about prescribing things effectively, however they do provide psychological services and the department is decent over there. No dermatological types of things are covered either. I feel like at least graduate students should get better than the run of the mill undergrad insurance treatment. We might actually NEED sleep aides and no way jose. All out of pocket, and we all know those are empty all the time. I spend lint on a regular basis as it is.

So this morning.... I got up. The boyfriend's meds don't keep me asleep, though they help me fall asleep. They also leave me waking up with a headache right above and between my eyes, a drudgy (not a word, but it FEELS like that word sounds) can't open my eyes all the way feeling....for several hours! Yech. So that's a no on the 4th type of sleep med I have tried. I only got up because the owner of my apartment and a real estate lady were coming to take photos at 10:30. It helped motivate me though and I got out of the house for the first time in a couple of days. I commenced to running errands... and it hit me. I had time to go to school and get set up for therapy in the fall. So I did. They even had time to do a 50 minute consult with the on-call therapist, I'll get my assignment for one on Monday and can then make appointments. From the consult.... well, she thinks I definitely have a depressed mood, and possibly clinical depression (but hopefully not). Yech again. It figures, and would explain a lot... but I still am not happy about it.

.... Get it? :D What depressed person would be happy about being told they're depressed? Sorry, I know puns are funnier when said aloud. Well, they aren't really funny... but I like them anyway. I still find tons of random little things amusing, but I'm depressed?? I am so confused right now.

"Depressive signs and symptoms are characterized not only by negative thoughts, moods, and behaviors but also by specific changes in bodily functions (for example, crying spells, body aches, low energy or libido, as well as problems with eating, weight, or sleeping). The functional changes of clinical depression are often called neurovegetative signs. This means that the nervous system changes in the brain cause many physical symptoms that result in diminished activity and participation."

This sucks. I often wonder if I wouldn't be a completely different person if I got a string of 2-3 actual real nights of uninterrupted sleep in a row. And we all know how disordered and weird my thinking has been getting lately.... it's worse all the time. I realized how bad it was trying to fill out the forms just this morning. So I'm glad I went. It shouldn't be a major thing when I actually get groceries purchased, and actually leave the house, and actually shower, and actually take care of a few things from 10-3.... but it's gotten to the point where it IS an exciting thing for all of those things to happen. There's definitely something wrong here, and I feel a little relieved at just taking a step to get help.

I never thought I could be a person to get depressed. I'd like to blame it on the swap in my birth control or something... It's funny to be a little sad about being told you're likely depressed. I just see myself as a mostly positive person, and I am still good socially, but my life is falling apart slowly but surely... something is definitely wrong. I'm worried I'm making excuses by honestly admitting that I match all the symptoms, that it's letting me off the hook for not changing how I feel lately... for not trying harder, for not being motivated, for... you get the idea. I'm young, healthy, in charge of my own life, a little broken and neurotic but I like myself that way, and I've accomplished anything I've set my mind too.... why does knowing that not seem to be making a bit of difference? Why is my fear of failure suddenly an entirely crippling force? Anyone have some gems of experience from this issue???

One interesting thing she said was that my hiding this behavior is probably part of why I am so emotionally exhausted, which makes perfect sense. That is absolutely something I should have realized myself. I can't wait to kick this bullshit, whatever it is, however I can. I miss myself.

Reading, the true love of my life.

I have friends for the facets of my personality. I have a public blog, and a private semi-secret one. I still have things I only share with myself. My cats hear things no one else does. Blah blah. I've turned to reading lately to soothe the anxieties within, to find more like minds since they don't exist in the town I live in, to broaden my horizons mentally, and for many other reasons. Through doing so I've found many who feel like a friend of my mind, even if we've never exchanged any discourse at all.

My average goddess is a friend of my soul, of the searcher in me, and of the girl who likes to dress well, be in shape, eat right, and be hot all while being successful too. The Average Goddess. A brilliant, witty, fantastic human being I am so lucky to know. She inspires me, I want to be her. I adore her!! And I read her. :)

Sasha Sappho. I felt the oddest connection upon reading Sasha's words the first time. It's weird how close you can feel to someone's words. And I love to comment on her blogs because they always get me thinking, I hope she doesn't mind the cyber stalk, it's entirely friendly. :D

Essin' Em. I admire how she shares herself and her mind so freely and openly, and it's a lovely mind full of brilliant ideas and wonderful causes and live and let live ideas. I love reading her, she opens my mind up wider every time I do.

Other blogs I am really enjoying for their mind opening and other properties: AAG, Secret Confessions of a Smart Girl, and finally Bunny.

Some of these are sex blogs, because I like sex. Others are what I like to think of as blogs of the broken, one is both. My blog falls under the blogs of the broken category quite clearly as well.

Reading all of this is so nice for me, a simple way to put it, but that's how it makes me feel. Stimulated, interested, interesting to myself, sometimes it helps me feel less alone, less misunderstood, less confused, and just.... well, nice. However, I think it is severely inflating my imposter syndrome... or maybe something else is. I never feel smart anymore. I don't feel take charge anymore (even though everyone tells me I am a take charge person... and my actions even say I am!!). I never feel like what I write or say or do is the BEST or wittiest or most informed option and therefore it almost feels futile to share.... I need to go to the therapist tomorrow. Something is definitely wrong here. Almost as soon as I stepped back into my house, after the joy of seeing my kitties wore off... I felt the apathy, the lethargy, the desire to hide my sluggish nature creeping back in. Is it grad school? Is it something in the water? Is it this ridiculous town? Or is it something else entirely?

I can't stand that I can't figure ME out right now. That's the one person I have always been able to understand.....

Back to the reading: I also recently read a few books, I was trying to branch out from my normal escapism tendencies (meaning I only read high fantasy books). The books I chose this time on my latest buying spree were collections of stories, and a different type of fiction than I normally read. I still have some left but here are small reviews of the few I've read so far. (Aside: I NEED KINDLE! It would revolutionize my life and cut the $ I spend to read by a quarter!) I can't say I loved reading them as much as I usually do. I find blogs more satisfying than I did Chelsea's book. My Horizontal Life: A Collection of One-Night Stands by Chelsea Handler which was interesting because she's a woman who thinks a bit like a man, a comedian, a sassy brassy lady. I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell by Tucker Max (a self-professed narcissistic guy, this is a collection of stories from his younger years- he's also Bunny's ex) which was by turns funny, wheezing laugh inducing funny, appalling, too gross for me to read, and scary. However, I didn't find it laugh out loud funny, I didn't find her as.... confident as I thought she was, and rather than it being endearing I found it disappointing. She just may not be my kind of funny. Finally, I read Good in Bed by Jennifer Weiner. I'm not sure how I feel about this book still, over a week after finishing it. I loved In Her Shoes which I read at my mom's house one vacation. So I thought I would really like this book, but I didn't find the main character entirely believable or identifiable. There were things in this book that started lots of thought processes for me, which I did enjoy. I just lost touch with the main character at some point in the book and I never got back to her. Strange. I can't explain it. I did love that the main character wasn't this super perfect gorgeous skinny thing. Alternately I was terrified that I had ever made a girl or woman a larger size than me feel the way she often felt in this book. I'm little.... most people are larger than I am.... :(. Again, that fear and paralysis right there over such a thought is fairly new. Maybe I have, but normally I would just be like: Oh well, in the future I will really try to be more cognizant and be sure I don't do that to anyone intentionally. Now? EEK!

Land of Dairy: Trust Issues

One major thing though.... I have a hard time opening up to SP still. I don't know if it's my perception of him being critical or what the fuck. It pisses me off. Well, at the moment with raging hormones I'm alternately pissed, annoyed, laughing my ass off, or near tears. I'm also in pain, and sooooo tired, but of course not sleeping. I have a sleeping pill piece from SP to try in a little bit when I feel purged enough of thought to sleep. If it works, I'm getting a new prescription. I can't talk to my faves, so writing will have to suffice.

Ok, back to the issue at hand. I know everything goes better when I am honest with SP. I know I like myself better when I am honest with most people (most people = not my family). I like telling the truth, it's my happy place. I have a hard time doing it sometimes, maybe due to my secretive family, my compulsive liar of a 7-year boyfriend and best friend, my own instinct to protect myself, or maybe it's just that SP likes to just listen. He often listens without talking back, sometimes without responding at all, other times he'll think about what I said intently and then respond. Basically, I feel like I can't ever make an important topic lighter... it doesn't work with him. I'd like to talk about some things with him, but I freak out and squirm and suddenly can't say what I mean properly... I manage to misrepresent myself.... I even do things that make it look and sound like I am lying just because I'm uncomfortable. I prefer to reveal my secrets with him late at night, in the dark, where I can hide my face and my body language. When I'm honest though... usually there's no issue. Things just work. Bleh, it's a major conundrum for me. WHY can't I just be honest?? Do I really care what he thinks that much?? That's stupid, I want him to like me FOR ME. Not to be someone he wants me to be. I don't think that's the issue.... I think it's much deeper than that... trust. I tried pushing myself occasionally to reveal secret things and parts of myself to him on this trip, to say what I wanted, to be more aggressive and assertive in my thoughts and desires and wants and needs. One way I did this was that I sang in front of him... which since my first boyfriend hated me to do that.... is hard now. Then when that didn't feel too revealing, I played Near to You by A Fine Frenzy for him, sang along with it, and explained what this song meant to me... that it was my anthem when I met him.

"Near To You"

He and I had something beautiful
But so dysfunctional, it couldn't last
I loved him so but I let him go
'Cause I knew he'd never love me back

Such pain as this
Shouldn't have to be experienced
I'm still reeling from the loss,
Still a little bit delirious

Near to you, I am healing
But it's taking so long
'Cause though he's gone
And you are wonderful
It's hard to move on
Yet, I'm better near to you.

You and I have something different
And I'm enjoying it cautiously
I'm battle scarred, I am working oh so hard
To get back to who I used to be

He's disappearing
Fading suddenly
I'm so close to being yours
Won't you stay with me
Please

Near to you, I am healing
But it's taking so long
'Cause though he's gone
And you are wonderful
It's hard to move on
Yet, I'm better near to you.

I only know that I am
Better where you are
I only know that I am
Better where you are
I only know that I belong
Where you are

Near to you, I am healing
But it's taking so long
Though he's gone
And you are wonderful
It's hard to move on

Near to you, I am healing
But it's taking so long
'Cause though he's gone
And you are wonderful
It's hard to move on
Yet, I'm better near to you.

Yet, I'm better near to you.

He listened closely to the words, and I know he understood, but he didn't say a word. I had really overreached my comfort zone on that one. He seemed fine with it, he didn't do anything super mushy after it... and I couldn't decide if that would have helped or not. I was relieved by his reaction but not reassured. I think I would have liked to have known what he thought and because I didn't... I remained feeling a bit vulnerable and exposed and in need of some kind of assurance. Yet I couldn't ask what he thought, I just couldn't speak because I already felt so exposed. My broken, it hurts me to show you it... Aside: He told me tonight that he usually hates when people sing along to the radio but he never wanted me to stop. He said he thought that the entire trip. He told me I should try out for American Idol, lol. I told him thank you, and to shut up and not make me blush in public. (I can fall on my face in front of a crowd of people and not blush, but a compliment that matters to me and I'm instantly embarrassed.)

Back from the Land of Dairy

I'm a mess physically: fatter, moodier, and hormonal. However, nothing but the extra fat is due to the trip! :D It's my TOM, which I knew it would be but it wasn't supposed to hit until we got back... since we stayed an extra day and a half it hit right as we were leaving WI. Eek! At the moment my state is: Annoyed that I had a stupid commitment tonight to go to instead of being able to call my favorite people in the world. I miss them all intensely, my Anne, my Francis, my seester-soul Cami. Grrr.

Ok ok, back to the trip follow-up:

In the relationship department I would say the trip was quite the success. SP was attentive, communicative, solicitous, reassuring, understanding, and much more skintimate (my mental word for touchy-feely) than before. Wisconsin managed to be almost romantic in a lot of strange ways. We weathered the 16-17 hour car rides that bookended the trip together very well. Even when I unwittingly sent us 40 minutes out of our way for gas (I messed up using the GPS) and almost made us run out of gas before we made it to the station at 3 am in the mountains of TN, we laughed it off. WOW. Not normal for when these types of things would happen during grad school. In fact tonight when we were out (we got home at 5:30 am this morning and had a prior commitment this evening that we then saw one another at after going to our separate beds this morning) he even laughed and said to me: "How is it we can handle an extended trip and almost 17 hours straight in the car together just fine and now it seems like you're annoyed by me?" I wasn't, I was just annoyed in general. Again though, a GOOD use of words on his part, instead of just not saying how I was making him feel. All in all, some good stuff. I'll do some detailed excerpts of different things at some point. Especially the funny awkward stuff, and with me around, there's definitely some goodies in there.

The sex was good and fairly plentiful. It reminded me why I could never be a sex blogger.... not because I can't and don't want to write about it.... that would be fun and I wish I could... BUT I get very involved when it's actually good - which is all about mentally hitting the OFF switch on my overactive brain - and I can't think to remember things for later. All I remember is the heat, the haze, the pleasure. Unless it's not as great, then I remember way too much. OH we actually did it for a short time post-wedding reception in the shower without a condom... and I didn't mentally freak until later of course. I KNEW that would freak me out after his over-insistence on condoms due to his terror over getting someone pregnant. I know this time it was just intoxication and lust though... not the mental idea I have now that with him sex without a condom means he wants kids. *insert an image of me running away screaming from that idea*

SP's immediate family was VERY interesting. I don't even know if I can get into it all here... hmmm. A quick synopsis: His parents are still together, they had him when his father was 19. He grew up poor almost into high school, then the farm started doing much better. His parents were never around due to work, and are both to this day extremely hard workers. They're strong willed, dynamic, hard working people. However, they communicate love through teasing and bickering, they also fight loudly enough that cops get called (they didn't in front of me though). His mother does a lot of little things for his father, but not so much the other way around. His dad just provides and calls it a day. His mother is often described as flaky, and her needs don't seem to be all that important to anyone. I didn't see her as flaky, but I know I didn't see her how she always is either. She complained a lot, about many many things, including SP, his father, her body, her face, the farm, her life, etc. She was positive about some things, and complimentary and quite nice to me. I couldn't decide if it was nerves making her this way... I just don't know about her. His father is VERY self centered... and SP has alluded before to being beaten as a child.... I can see that. I don't think he did it his entire life.... SP has no issues disagreeing with them and seems like he never did, which is very very nice, and they are used to just not fighting him on his life choices because it's futile. Neither of his parents are very affectionate, or emotional either. They tend to express anger and annoyance and a fierce sort of humor rather than anything else. His father treats his son and daughter entirely differently now, but I think he was callous to them both growing up. SP's sister is entirely neurotic and full of a myriad of fears associated with things that happened or were done to her in her childhood, some by her father (nothing sexual or textbook abusive but not very caring father who looks after his little girl). His sister is entirely sweet, a wonderful caring teacher who loves kids, is a Catholic with the requisite should's and guilty conscience, and is clearly a giver and caretaker. She is affectionate with her husband, and seems like she would like more of that in her family as well. All in all, very interesting gold mine of information about SP to be had there. And that was just the immediate family!!! His family is massive. The wedding had 250+ invitees and many of them were family.

In the things that bothered me department: I NEED time and space to myself. It was VERY hard to find. Impossible almost, I stole minutes here and there whenever I could. That is probably a major contribution to the 'Amalthea is annoyed at the entire world' attitude today. I found some random time once or twice in 13 days to fit in two short convos with my lodestones (aka my best friends). However, I never could find a good time to talk to my sister, and my mom called when I couldn't speak freely. Yech. I hated that. I also missed my darling kittles, though less than usual thanks to the 17 kittens and 17 cats on the farm! NO EXAGGERATION!! Every morning I would go to the barn to pet and play with some, and every afternoon, and I would feed them whenever SP did the farm chores. It's awesome to get mewed at and purred at and rubbed on and climbed by 17 adorable kittens in a rainbow of colors, shapes, and sizes. I'll post a photo at some point. All of them eating at once is too cute not to share!! The photo has arrived:
Overall: I like farms, but would never want to be a farmer. I love to visit the country, but wouldn't want to live there unless I was raising children. Even then, I wouldn't want to live in a place as rural as this was. Cows are still stupid, though they can be funny too. Kitties are still awesome, and I think farms are just about the coolest place for a dog to live. Driving farm equipment is fun, so is playing in a corn field, scaring geese, having your own stocked fish pond, and wearing an old bone cow pelvis as pretend armor. I wanted to take home both the pelvis and the most adorable calico kitten I have ever seen. I need time alone, and the anonymity of not knowing everyone in a 50 mile radius. I'm sort of glad and sort of sad my family is so ridiculously small. I really like the person that my boyfriend is 90% of the time (though of course I remain unsure how I feel about US), and the people he truly enjoys always amuse and interest me too.

I'll do some detailed excerpts of different things at some point. Especially the funny awkward stuff, and with me around, there's definitely some goodies in there.