Reinforcements.

I called them in this week, and I cannot tell you just how much it means to me that I have them to call in. My life has become infinitely better as the caliber of my friends has improved. I think that's a really unsurprising but important thing to notice.

Life itself reminded what is really important and what is just noise. My place in my graduate program was threatened this week - because I was not standing up for myself with my adviser and committee enough. It was a very scary thing that had me in a near panic for a few days. However, at this point I think it will all be ok. I'll be poorer this summer than I have been in a long time, and I really have to be forceful in pressuring for people to get my thesis done with me, but it will all turn out alright in the end. It was touch and go for a few days... and it was an incredible reminder of what my #1 concern is right now. Me and this dream of a degree. As soon as I get out of here I can concentrate on others again and the other passions I have, but this degree has got to be first.

Cami helped me out by telling me to calm the drama and just pull a professional shut out of Officechick E. IF she forces me to deal with her, do it verbally and at the office like I would with any coworker, nothing more. Anything more will feed her need to have something dramatic to drop from the sky. :) The chicken little analogy helps too because it makes me smile and relax anytime she comes in and the world is around her ears. So when I hit a stress point I just took myself out of her range this week - and it helped.

Through all of this my BFF was a text message, IM, and phone call away. She's been in my department, so she was invaluable as a tool for advice with specific people and situations. She kept me even so I could functionally deal with things. She reminded me that I am better than this - what is happening to me is a product of outside forces, unforeseeable circumstances, and my own dislike of making waves. Well, it's time to make more of them.

SP helped give me the drive to do the wave making, and reminded me that I prefer to have all my blood, sweat, and tears out in private. In this case that is not helping my situation. My professors need to see me bleeding, sweating, and crying. At first I kind of wanted to kill him, but then the sense started getting through. Most of all when I needed someone he was here and he shut up when I needed him to and just held me. Which at that point was what I needed most.

And this place.... it was here for me to get all of my tangled distracting thoughts and emotions out of the way - when this happened I was as mentally clean as I could have been. The letter still hasn't arrived from my father - I'm starting to wonder why and what my mother did with it. I still have a week until I know what the deal is medically - and now I have a $400 bill to sort out as well. Thankfully, I worked through those things here in this blog and in my mind and no longer need concern myself with them until the waiting is over (even when it is, I know my priorities and will stick by them). I'm almost done with an incredible draft of my thesis, if I do say so myself, which I will forcefully require to get feedback on tomorrow. I should be proposed within the month and have no trouble defending by August (the unofficial things-will-be-ok-if-you-get-this-done-by-this-date deadline). Funny how life has a way of reminding us of 'our' priorities.

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.

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.

Weird dreams

I had the strangest dreams last night. The kind where you wake up wondering if they happened they were so real, then you start to connect the dots to your current life and realize that they don't in fact connect at all. Here's a few vignettes:

- Right before I got up: My sister Cami and I with my ex K and his little girl (who I still regularly feel pangs over, whenever I see a cute blonde girl around the same age , or when I find one of her socks in my things, random moments like that) were on a roller coaster. I was sitting with the little blondie, my sister and the ex-boy K were in the car in front of us. And the coaster's track kept changing. I kept waiting to be afraid, since I HATE coasters, and I never was. I couldn't get my belt fastened either, and of course the ex saw this and ignored it, and I finally got it belted myself right before a section where I needed it, then I woke up.

- Once or twice throughout the night: Officechick E was around constantly, acting like nothing had ever happened. Like all of a sudden we were buddies and she was calling me and it was like she never sent me a weird e-mail saying she didn't want to be friends anymore. And the friendship wasn't work anymore the way it used to be. It was odd. It was all just my normal activities, but she was occasionally there. Strange, since honestly I feel pretty good about stuff and don't want the friendship back.

- I woke up super disturbed around 5 am: I was living with kids for some reason, a little boy and girl (the boy was 8 or so? maybe 10?) and the boy had gotten ahold of some kittens. He somehow managed to put ping pong balls inside these kittens (2-3 week old ones). It was AWFUL. And they were alive, little silent balls of fur all pulled out of proportion with these things in them (no way could this actually be physically possible, but it was a dream). I freaked out and started psychobabbling at him about his psychotic behavior and how sociopathic it was and where did he get the idea etc. He finally showed me a photoshopped photo on the internet.... so I took the kittens to the vet to try and save them... and woke up. I was crying over them in the dream, and I woke up with my whole system on full alert and intensely horrified.

I think I had some more somewhere, but whatever. Those were freaking weird enough. The scarier part is that it has been since last school year that I had a dream that got mixed up with reality to the point where I wasn't sure which was which. This time I could tell they weren't real, but they FELT real. These things used to happen to me a lot. And that is extremely SCARY. It has made for some awkward situations before when people thought I was nuts and had to explain that these things didn't happen, and finally some detail doesn't add up and I realize what the deal was.... I don't want those kind of dreams back, ever.

A typical ramble

Come with me, down the rabbit hole, for your first serious ramble. I haven't had a lot of sexual.. partners? We'll call them that for lack of a better word. I have had an 18 year old guy when I was years older than he was, a couple of guys 2 years older than I was (one when I was 18 - the first for a long time, the other 22), a guy... hmm... I think he was 30 and I was 22.... someone else around that age gap, and then now one year older. I really wish them being older automatically made it better, lol, but I think it's all about experiences. The one of them who was 30 clearly had seen too much porn or had women pretend they liked certain things or were impressed with certain things that I had never known another girl to be impressed by. (Granted, I have only had a select couple of handfuls of girl and guy friends willing to talk about these things with me, it makes a lot of people uncomfortable, go figure.) Luckily The Italian was quite well endowed and unhampered by drinking, so all was eventually forgiven and I even suppressed all of my giggles at some of his 'techniques' to save his ego - ahhhh, the things I'll do to be courteous. The youngest of them had the most impressive package, and I've sometimes wavered on my mental decision that he wasn't that good with it (I don't THINK he was), I think it was just that good on it's own so the memories are all hazed over happy ones, lol. Maybe it all comes down to sexual chemistry, plain and simple. They can know all the right moves but if YOU + THEM doesn't work then you might orgasm but it won't be a great sexual experience? Ugh, thinking about sex is soooo depressing when I can't have any. It's like... going to the shoe store and finding the sexiest pair of boots ever. I can touch them, try them on, get a little rush from wearing them in the store and knowing they look good... but once that's over I still have to put them back in the box and walk away only to dream of them later. Emo kid levels of sadness.

Sorry, I had a fruitless trip to DSW tonight and was very disappointed. My mom did buy me a hat however, haha. I also found some things I left behind in a closet here that fit me, a dress that I should have re-tailored that I could use to attend a wedding later this summer (ewwwwwwwww, I don't want to talk about that yet), etc. So it was sort of like shopping without spending money, which is pretty cool. The vacation is actually going very well so far. I think my moving away has sunken in with my family. My mom rarely treats me like a child anymore, her LTR doesn't either (and reminds her not to, love him for that), and my grandmother seems to finally see me as someone who NEEDS to do my own thing...... weird. 1st night here we went out for sushi and mom made a point to tell me she didn't have anything for ME to do while I was here... :) YAY, she finally got the vacation point!! THEN (I nearly choked on some salmon over this, I actually did swallow a piece of ginger whole...lol) she brought up homosexual marriage, children in homosexual marriages, and religion's role in all of that.... I slowly put down my sushi, looking at her levelly across the table, and quietly asked, "Are you sure you want to talk about this now?" Her response pleased me to no end, where this woman has been on the phone the last six months I don't know, but it was nice that she was here now, " Yes", she said, "I know how you feel about homosexuality, and I know we might not agree but I'd really like to hear what you think." WOW! Go mom! Score one for the potential of a strengthening of the mom-daughter friendship on this trip! She, her LTR, and I had a lively discussion about it. Mom actually began to agree with me more than when it started by the end of it, which wasn't the objective, but was certainly a nice boon. I am starting to think that her LTR knows less about me than previously assumed, though I've hidden nothing, he may just not see what he's not looking for. I actually think mom was using me as a foil to help bring him around to a more liberal pov, for some reason the man listens to me and always considers what I say very carefully. (Too bad I can't seem to find a sexy manmeat boyfriend who will do that.) Apparently her LTR doesn't understand why they need to be married under the church, or have kids, etc. I actually found that while he believes in Christianity quite strongly, he has apparently had some falling out with the church a bit as well. Mom asked me a bit about how I feel about it now, I was honest in that I felt that unfortunately many churches are just a box people stand on. They use them to look down on and judge and hold themselves high, they use them to fuel hypocrisy... and that I had found this to be particularly true where I currently live. I told her I thought religion can be so incredibly beautiful, and that if you need and want faith in your life then you deserve it as much as the atheist deserves their disbelief, then I stopped. I didn't go in to where I'm at right this moment. I'm drifting, and I like it. For once I have no need to poke or prod at it, though I know it won't be long probably until that changes. Interesting development, and it was more the SPIRIT of the discussion that eased some tension within me. I slept well that night, which never happens here (I was exhausted too, but that won't do it for me alone).

Today I went and visited my grandmother. 2 hours there, 3 hours back. Through and then out of the city...to the cows and the porta potties....and finally back again. While I was on the plane here listening to my ipod and an audiobook of Christopher Moore's You Suck: A Love Story I was flipping through an in flight magazine. I was doing so mostly to have an excuse for my occasional laugh, smiles, and other expressions that accompanied listening to a CM novel. However, I actually did end up reading part of an article, it was intended to be about restaurants but started out by saying: "Houston, I'm not supposed to like it." It went on to lament the city's flaws (lack of zoning, the insane sprawl of it, the sheer size and magnitude of the freeways, the strip malls, the smog, etc.) and yet... while reading it I could see it all in my head, and while parts of it are pretty ugly, I got excited to be back. Then the writer magically took the same mental turn I already had, and he extolled the virtues of having the Montrose head shop next door to the hole in the wall eatery with the best bread I've ever had, the Beer Can House (which would never pass zoning laws, haha), The Orange Show, and many other things he said better than I ever can.... Oh Nostalgia! That's the feeling and the word that enveloped me as I got into my mom's car and hit the Beltway this morning. That old familiar pavement, I put on 94.5 the Buzz (my old Alternative fave radio station, which I will still listen to even if it's all sold out to the CLEARCHANNEL juggernaut), and just drove. I smiled at buildings, at stupid drivers, at near death freeway experiences, at the EZ Tag I zoomed under, at the changes I saw, all the way past all my old stomping grounds. I actually remembered the entire way to my Grandmother's place, miles and miles from the city. The best part was the SKY. I love the sky here, it's mesmerized me since I was in the 3rd grade. It's so open it feels like the day can just go on forever and ever to me when I look at it. I used to love to lie on hills in the grass and stare at it. I honestly have not had the urge to do that since I left here, and it's not because I've gotten older. Even better, it was storming around me but not over the freeway on my way home. A stick lightning show, one funnel cloud, black and grey clouds whipping together, trees blowing, wind howling, and I could see the rain sheeting in the distance. It all felt like a show put on just for me to watch on my long ride back to my mom's house. I loved every second of it, I was giddy just watching, it was difficult to concentrate on the drive with so much to see. I didn't even call anyone or listen to anything until it was over. :)

So visiting with my grandma... why do old people think I care who has gone to see which doctor about what?? I nearly nodded off about 3 times while she went on and on about all of these people I don't know and who they have seen and why and what's going on with that. Very odd. She didn't ask much about me. I think that's a good sign actually. It at least meant that she didn't criticize. I think it's her way of saying she knows I'm ok. She actually liked my hair, haha, she NEVER likes my hair. We played with her dog, had lunch at the house, her LTR (I do not like him and just have to say so whenever I can) came to that, we made lots of small talk, I watched horrid TV shows I would never subject myself to normally... and left feeling lighter. I did the right thing going out there, she was actually happy and I could tell. So I guess if nearly putting me to sleep with her random rambling made her happy, it also made me happy to do it. It's not like I'm here often, and I usually manage to wiggle out of seeing her on my own. We talked about our tiny family a little bit too. My in when she needs something, out when she doesn't cousin in particular. I even told her about the no nonsense get on or off the train voice mail I left the cousin, right before she disappeared again (after getting Christmas gifts out of everyone of course), and she didn't spaz. I think my grandma actually understood that I left it because I do care, though I know she doesn't know why I care from a distance now (so they can't draw me in and try to control me like they used to). Her life makes me a little sad, she really doesn't do much of anything anymore but take the dog to the groomer once every two weeks, go take care of her laundromats once a week, occasionally make food for her and the icky LTR, and go out to eat with him. It's TV, all the time. And she's not that old, but she's so weak now. She did a lot of complaining, but I no longer feel the least bit responsible either, which is a welcome feeling. I used to. Even if it was out of my hands, I'd feel bad, like I should or could fix it or talk to the right person who would for her. It's nice to know I've outgrown some of my guilty conscience.

Then I had some fun talks with my sister Cami and BMF Frances on the way home. I arrived and mom and the LTR were waiting. I hooked up their Wii for them, and we headed out to dinner. Dinner was fun, I can't even remember what we talked about. I like that they find me funny, and even occassionally witty, that's all I remember. The LTR in particular always seems to enjoy my company a lot. Granted it's Day 2. Too soon to be sick of me, haha. The sass still seems cute now. He headed off, and mom and I took a disappointing trip to DSW (but I got a new hat!), followed by one to Stein Mart to help mom get a top for her reunion this weekend. We picked out the top, and I approved an outfit for the second day of it when we got home. I hope I seemed appropriately enthused, I was getting lost in my own head a bit at this point. A fantastic dressy casual dress I saw at Stein Mart clicked a weird reminder in my brain of the wedding I need to attend in August which knocked into my current thoughts on my boyperson.... and I found that miasma hard to crawl out of, it might have even driven me here subconsciously to purge. (I talked to mom about him a little when she asked on a 1st night post dinner dog walk - she ACTUALLY LISTENED SUPPORTIVELY, but I didn't overtax her with it, just skimmed some of it.)

So, where did all of this mental masturbation come from? Yeah, I wondered if I named this blog right on the first go... but that's exactly what this is. Purging just a portion of the randomness. I couldn't sleep, I finished You Suck: A Love Story, and I thought that since the first 2 days of the trip went well, I'd like to write that down and remember it. :) So there ya go old chap.

P.S. The interview with CM post audiobook was very interesting. I wish I had even a drop of writing talent. All I have is the ability to semi-coherently string words together, and occasionally use ones with lots of syllables. Sad.

Welcome!

I'm excited to have this quiet place to ramble. To spill the excess from the mundane thoughts I normally share with those around me. The rest of it usually remains deep within, but maybe, just MAYBE spewing a little bit of it out here will help soothe my naturally restless soul. I'm working toward the idea of contentment. It's definitely not something I'm good at, being content. However, I would like to learn to achieve it, even if I can't keep it. Purging some thoughts just might help. I'll also just be using this as a place to save very random thoughts and ideas that I want to keep somewhere, but not necessarily where my family could stumble into them.

In other news: 5 days and counting until I go home. I desperately wish this was an event to be excited about. I am super happy about seeing my sister Cami, I love and miss her. She's the one person I am always wishing I knew better, but like me she can be a tough cookie to crack, haha, and I never want to pressure her. She's one of the few whose opinion I actually immediately take into consideration even if it's polar to mine. She's the only person whose thoughts on childbearing made me re-assess my own (anti) for the first time in years. That right there says how much impact she can have on me. But then there's the rest of my family....

I joke that the country music has gone to my mothers' brain. Or perhaps it's Fox news.... I really hope it's not her boyfriend that did it.... I just don't know. However, when I left she was fairly open minded for a semi-Christian republican. Now.... she's bigoted, racist (though she tries to cover it with some issue or whatever, bullshit), and very right wing. SCARY. She also has started preaching random Christian nonsense at me. WTF. We've had 1 good conversation in months and months, and it was short and I made it good. The rest sucked. She asks what's going on with me, I tell her, she spazzes on me for 'overthinking' and 'overplanning' everything.... I never ask for her opinion. The last time she did that she then told me that God was going to take over the course of my life if I kept believing I controlled it.... and then basically said HE was going to impregnate me. Nice. So the next day everything looked like sperm to me (literally, the water droplets on my car, the yogurt on my spoon, everything) and it was funny. BUT the fact that she said it to me and believed it are not funny. I've been keeping my mouth shut for months, which might not have been the best course of action at all. I probably should have immediately told her she is offending me and not to talk to me about those things.... it just seems so sad to fight when we see each other 2-3 times a year. She doesn't know me at all anymore and I don't know if she wants to. I also know she usually parrots someone else's opinions.... so I'm sort of morbidly curious to find out where she's getting this crap now. I LIKE her boyfriend though, and I'm worried (95% sure) it's him. Sadness. And I'm spending DAYS in Colorado with the two of them with no other company very soon..... eek.