I was going to write a coherent post. Then stuff happened.

4 08 2013


Drum roll please.


Thank you!


Have a new boyfriend! OMG! It’s so crazy.

Now, he’s no Benedict Cumberbatch. (Is anyone?) I think that’s only occurred to me because the media has constantly provided us with the idea that love requires physical near-perfection and constant conflict,

He might not be the prettiest face, but he’s not ugly, and I like him very much. What’s the quote? ‘Love is not finding a perfect person, but learning to see an imperfect person perfectly.’ Don’t remember who said it. The words are more important.

I’ll call him…hmmm, he needs a nickname. I will call him Sweetness, ’cause he is really quite sweet. Sometimes sweeter than I can handle.

He’s not exactly clingy, but he can hover a little bit. He likes to hold my hand, which I don’t mind. And he cares. He remembers little things. I mentioned a book I couldn’t get from the library, he found it for me. When I was having a bad day he told me to call him any time. And I feel safe in his arms. For me, that means a lot.

Also (innocents, cover your ears), I haven’t had full on sex with him yet. He seems to enjoy getting me off,  quietly, and we haven’t had much privacy, so it’s really slow, especially for me.  And he’s okay with it.

I think that’s the best part. Plus the hope.

The hope that maybe it’s forever. And the hope that we’ll have fun. We already have fun. We’re awkward together, we’re fun together, we wander around for hours and never get bored. We like to cuddle.

Let’s see where we are by December.

In the meantime, I think I’m getting a cold, so I’m going to keep this short.

What’s everyone’s favorite part of a relationship?

Sincerely yours,


P.S. I’ve gained four pounds. I weep. But Sweetness wants me to go jogging with him, so that’ll be fun, no?


The Zimmerman-Martin Trial.

14 07 2013


Before yesterday, I was planning on writing a post about my new internship, and my dating life. But I think this is going to be a more serious post.

Now, I’ll admit I haven’t been following the trial extremely closely. Nor was I expecting Zimmerman to get convicted of murder. I was hoping that he could be convicted of manslaughter, but it seemed unlikely, especially under Florida law. The jury probably followed the letter of the law. That being said-

I am pissed off, and I’m sad.

There was a teenager walking home, and never got there. And no one of this needed to happen. Had everyone, as I have suggested in an earlier post, minded their own business, it would have been just another ordinary evening. But Zimmerman got out of his car and followed a teenager. Trayvon, who can’t be asked what happened, most likely was unnerved by being followed and reacted without thinking about it. And the end result is a dead teenager and a man who will forever be branded as a violent racist and will never be able to go out in public again without looking over his shoulder.

I don’t think that the jury was necessarily wrong-if the state didn’t have enough evidence to convict Zimmerman, his attorneys would have just appealed. But that doesn’t seem like enough to gloss the situation over.

Parents no longer have their son, and a lot of people feel reminded that there is still racism and a lack of justice in this country.

I just worry that there are people walking the streets with guns. I don’t believe there is any real need for a civilian to carry a loaded gun. It’s one thing to have a rifle in your hunting lodge to shoot targets or deer or something on weekends, but what’s your average citizen going to need a pistol first? What, you think someone’s going to hold up a Starbucks? Even if you do, you’re more likely to make the situation worse than become a hero. And then there are people carrying guns that wouldn’t pass a police psych exam. I know the criminal elements have weapons, but I doubt a lay person with a hand gun is going to stand much of a chance against a hardened criminal anyway.

…all this just makes me tired. Why can’t everyone just live and let live? Everyone seems to want to hate or distrust someone. Why? We all live in this world, and we all just want to be happy. Can’t we bond over that? No one was born into this world to enter conflicts. We came into this world to live. I don’t know why hating each other has so much more power than that.

Well, thanks for reading. I’m going to go and read something funny.

Sincerely yours,


After a long absence.

21 06 2013

I got an internship! YAY! Now so long as my various psychological problems don’t interfere, I should be fine. …oh boy. Got lots to talk about in therapy.

I think tonight is going to be a pondering post.

1. Why are people still debating about abortion? It’s the same points over and over, this 20-weeks thing is unconstitutional, and it seems no one is ever going to come to an agreement on it. I personally am very happy that no one can tell me to have a baby I don’t want, and the first person to tell me that if I don’t want a baby I should stop having sex is going to get kicked in the rear. Everyone should have access to contraception, use it, and the government can shut it about what’s going on in my uterus.

2. According to a lot of the comments on judgybitch, (I’m not linking to her, look it up if you want), if I want to get a man and not be a slut who will eventually have nothing to offer, I should wash his clothes, cater to his every need, make him sandwiches, and put him before myself in every respect, and then he’ll take care of me. My response to this was: Huh? What happened to marriage being a partnership?  I always thought marriage should be more of a ‘Hey, you wash the clothes and mow the lawn, I’ll cook dinner and clean the floors, and then we’ll sit down with the kids and eat and put the kids to bed and have some good sex and go to sleep’ sort of deal. I want to lean on someone, sure, but I want them to lean on me too. Equals. See?

…I’ve been reading up on it, and everyone seems to have an opinion and rules on love, and I don’t think anyone really knows. I’m just going to wing it.

You know what I think? Eighty percent of the world’s problems would be solved if everyone minded their own goddamn business about things that weren’t any of their business. If no one is being hurt or taken advantage of,  shut up about it.

OH NO THOSE PEOPLE OVER THERE ARE HAVING SEX THAT I DON’T APPROVE OF! …are they making you have sex? No? Shut up about it. OH NO THOSE PEOPLE ARE PRACTICING A RELIGION I DON’T APPROVE OF! …are they making you practice the religion? No? Shut up about it. OH NO THOSE PEOPLE ARE BEING RIDICULOUS AND I DON’T APPROVE! Are they making you act ridiculous? No? Shut up about it. (I need to follow that last one.)

With that stuff out of the way, we can focus on curing disease and ending world hunger and discovering cold fusion. And maybe play some Angry Birds in our down time. (Also, how weird is it that I’m totally broke, but still have an iPhone? This country is weird. And privileged. I occasionally remind myself that despite all the crap that I’ve been through, my life isn’t that bad. I have a place to sleep and privacy and air conditioning and I’m not starving and working three jobs to pay the rent on a one bedroom fifth floor walk up that I share with three other people. And that’s only bad by American standards.)

After a certain man ran off to Hong Kong, my brother was all OMG CAMERAS IN THE WALLS. Paranoia scares me, especially when it defies logic. There are millions of people in this country, too many for a small number to sit around and watch all day and night. This isn’t 1984. There is potential to be observed, and I object to that for the sake of our civil liberties, but practically speaking, I’m pretty sure the government isn’t listening to my phone calls.

Any sort of unquestioning belief bothers me. I just question everything. Except for gravity. I like believing in gravity, it makes it easier to get to the store.

Sincerely yours,


In Barnes and Noble

5 04 2013

I’m writing this post from a table at Barnes and Noble. I’ve been here about an hour; it’s a good place to write-people watch, yada yada. Most of the people here, myself included, at least buy a drink before hogging a table for ages. There are at least three people who haven’t, which annoys the crap out of me. Then people who actually have drinks have nowhere to sit. And two out of the three are these sketchy white guys who are either developmentally disabled or serial killers. One has one of the most pointless comb overs that I’ve ever seen, it’s like he threaded his head.

This week is almost over, thank goodness, because for some reason I have been snacking like a fiend and I have five weekly points left. Out of forty-nine. But today hasn’t been so bad. I had a Healthy Choice meal (the Top Chef ones are pretty good) and a salad, a large iced mocha (skim milk and sugar free syrup!), and two clementines. I have no idea what I’m going to do for dinner. I’m not going to be hungry for a while, so I’ve got a bit to figure it out. God, sometimes eating is a pain.

Okay, Comb Over has been reading the same page for about five minutes. Either he’s slow, or he’s not actually reading. He probably has body parts in his freezer. And Fat Pretentious Pubes Beard keeps picking at himself. Gross gross gross.

Oh, I almost forgot. This is my other blog. My writing blog. It’s just about as random as this one, but I still think it’s pretty awesome. Please check it out and read my writing! I’d love some feedback!

Oh, and I came across this the other day–>

And what did this make me think of? The image for Lolita.


This is nuts. Victoria’s Secret really shouldn’t be marketing sexual underwear to underage girls. According this blog post, they’re trying to sell underwear to these girls that say things like ‘Feeling Lucky’ on them.

Like we haven’t sexualized women and girls enough? Do you have to sell them underwear that invites sexual advances, that makes them seem themselves sexually?

It’s creepy. I’m not even a mother yet, and probably won’t be for a while, and I’m already worried about my potential daughters being seen as sex objects.  Ugh.

Then again, when I look in a Victoria’s Secret, the models are always posed provocatively. Now, as I am attracted to women, you might think that I like that. But it’s meant to appeal to men (really, the catalog is pretty much Playboy without genitals)  and the objectification of the women is more disturbing to me than it is attractive. It reminds me that women are still often seen as sex objects.

What does everyone else think? Am I being too sensitive? Men and women and whatever else you identify as, let me know in the comments!

Sincerely yours,


Sexist Commercials

6 03 2013

Why are commercials insisting on perpetuating sexist ideas?

For instance, of all the commercials for cleaning products, the only ones I can remember that feature a man in any prominence are for Viva paper towels, and even that man is not really using the product; his mother is cleaning up his messes, including his filthy body. As for the rest, they only prominently feature women, many of whom seem to enjoy cleaning to the point of ecstasy.  Notable exceptions are some commercials for Swiffer, which do feature women, but Swiffer claims to save these women time to do things that they enjoy.

I am aware that the purpose of a commercial is to sell its product, and that a product producing happiness will induce more customers to buy, and that perhaps pandering to these ideas boosts sales but is there really a need to perpetuate the notions that only women clean, women enjoy cleaning, or that men either don’t clean at all or are completely inept at it? Such notions don’t encourage feelings of equality between the genders; children watching are going to get the idea that women clean with enjoyment and that men either can’t clean or don’t have to.

Speaking as a woman who would be insulted if gifted with a domestic product (not like this, that would be awesome) such as a vacuum cleaner, I do not enjoy cleaning. Cleaning is a royal pain in the ass, and it has to be done consistently, and there are several other things that I would rather be doing. So I would rather not have the idea that, should I come to live with a man, cleaning the house is my job and he is doing me an enormous favor when he picks up his dishes and there isn’t any mold in his man-cave, which must be kept separate from my fastidiously clean ladies’ sitting room.

Okay, rant for the day over!

Now, about Greek Guy. We are having a cooking dinner date on Sunday, since there’s going to be a storm, which is not really ice skating weather. I might have sex with him. I don’t know. Maybe it turns out that he’s a demon in bed and he’s very quiet about it. This is probably not the case because he still can’t kiss. But this is going to be my way of taking him for one last test drive before I decide whether or not to keep dating him. Maybe once he has sex with me he’ll get bored. Who knows? But it seems less likely, going by today’s text: ‘Hi, still at work. Will call you from home. Kisses. :)’ I don’t think A ended a text that cutely in the entirety of our relationship, and I don’t know if I’m a little bothered because I have issues and it’s all ‘OMG I can’t handle emotions and kindness’ or it’s actually that I’m just not that into him. I’ve never been in the position that the other party is into me and I’m not so into them. It’s usually either the other way around, or there’s a sort of a mutual emotional disregard or indifference. Maybe I will learn something from this.

But in the meantime, I have a little shopping to do, side dishes to plan, and a make out party to attend on Friday. No, Greek Guy is not invited or being filled in. Is this cheating? I don’t think we have an exclusive relationship, so I guess not, but if we do get exclusive I guess we’ll have to talk about it.

I picked out an outfit for the party, but I think I need new shoes. And maybe a new top. And I’m broke. To the thrift shop! But not tomorrow, tomorrow is writing day.

Good night all!

Sincerely yours,


Going Out, and Falling Down

17 02 2013


I went out last night, and it was fun-not an epic night by any means, but fun. I am also now totally broke, ha ha.

Of course, it wouldn’t be a night out if I didn’t do something socially awkward. First I sent BB a dirty message, because heaven forbid I relate to any man without some sort of sexual overtone. And then I tried to talk to this guy and he turned his back on me after essentially ignoring my question. Talk about embarrassing, and then I completely freaked out, of course.

Big C was all ‘Yeah, you need to relax, your guard is so obviously up that it puts people off.’ I am so frustrated with myself I feel like kicking something.

I am a lot better than I used to be, but I realize that I’m…almost never really relaxed. I’m not as constantly on edge and wired as I used to be, but I’m not comfortably socially, and I’m wary of unfamiliar situations or anything overly stimulating. I also don’t know how to just…be. Just enjoy what I’m doing. Big C is all ‘Don’t make meeting people a goal and just be out.’ I think it’s part of the ‘don’t take fulfillment from sex and being valued by other people’ thing. (A said that too, but I’m more willing to take it from Big C because he’s not crazy and less judgmental about it.) But it’s a lot harder than it sounds. It’s been so ingrained that I don’t really know how not to do it. It also probably doesn’t help that I have no fulfillment in anything in my life right now.

Losing weight sort of makes me happy, but not really. The last twenty pounds seem a long way away. I have no job, and while I love my writing I wonder if I’ll ever be able to make it part of my life. I like my ceramic class, but I don’t know if that’s fulfilling. It’s entertaining for a few hours and then I’m down again. I don’t like these down swings. I just feel defeated.

Then there’s the whole I have no social circle thing. I mean, I have Big C. That’s it. I would like to make some friends but I am crap at meeting people, social situations stress me out, apparently I don’t give off the most welcoming vibes anyway, and I have a hard time maintaining relationships.

Big C says that part of the problem is that while everyone has leaps to make and needs to fulfill, I have a lower starting point due to my past. It’s like a lot of other people are starting from even ground and I’m starting from a well. If other people miss their leaps, they just land flat-they can still keep walking. If I miss, and feel down, I plummet, and so I have to climb all the way back up before I can keep going again. And I hate to say ‘it’s not fair’ because life is not fair, it’s not as if there’s some set of rules and some cosmic force is cheating in order to continually keep screwing me over. It just is what it is. (I hate that phrase by the way. I always have. It never makes anything clearer or better, it’s just like a shrug and it makes me want to kick something.)

In case it seems like I’m whining (and honestly, if it does, I don’t really care) let me try to give an example of how I feel. I have to take pills in order to function, because otherwise I can’t go outside of my house without panicking.  Any prolonged social situation either exhausts me or stresses me out. Even if I’m enjoying myself, by the next day I’m raw and I have to keep myself isolated. If I am approached by a strange man my first thought is how I can get away, just in case. I have very little sense of fulfillment in my life, and I am simultaneously very lonely and misanthropic. I have a hard time with appropriate social interaction. I am never relaxed, not really, the unsettled feeling never goes away even if I’m sitting still, and I’m always ready to react. I don’t trust and am sometimes desperate for a connection. I am sometimes inappropriately sexual, ashamed of my sexuality, and I still occasionally think about hurting myself. Not out of any real desire to die, just out of exhaustion. You threaten suicide or hurt yourself and then they lock you up for a little while, keep you from the world. I feel inadequate and frustrated and like I was born without the proper instruction manual. It seems like there will never be any end to this. And I’m so tired.

The worst part is that if I don’t come to love and embrace myself, how can I ever expect anyone else to do it? Big C does, but he’s not what I would call a typical man in any case, and it’s not like that with us anyway. My mother does, but she’s my mother. That’s about it. I wish I could just go away.

Sincerely yours,


Writing In Barnes and Noble

7 02 2013

I wanted to write in Starbucks today, but I went to three and all of them were unbearably crowded, so I ended up in a big Barnes and Noble instead. Which is fine, since my usual reaction to B&N is YAY BOOKS OMG I LOVE BOOKS AND OVERPRICED STARBUCKS COFFEE OH BABY.

But first off, there are too many people doing the ‘I didn’t actually buy coffee and therefore have no right to a cafe table’ thing. I know you want to sit and read, but there are chairs in the store for that exact purpose. Go and sit there so that laptop people (such as myself) have somewhere to sit! There’s two girls at a table and one of them isn’t even writing or reading, she’s playing some game on her iPad. Go sit on the floor! (I also desire an iPad.)

It’s not as cold as outside, but someone needs to jack up the heat. I’m cold. I told someone, but I doubt that they actually raised the heat.

Side note: I have seventeen followers. I know in the numbers of the internet that is minuscule, but to me? AWESOME. ::waves to the followers:: (I misspelled minuscule three times and the spell check gave me ‘leguminous’ as a suggestion. What?)

I also think the barista (a girl) might have been flirting with me, but since I have no game, I don’t have the nerve to go over there and flirt back, especially since it would be tres awkward to come back here and see her again. She’s not that cute. She’s cute, but not ‘risk getting a homophobic flame in front of half the cafe’ cute. Very few people are that cute. Also, I am a chicken. BUWAK. ….is that a chicken noise? In my head it does, but on the page it looks like a congested cow.

I also have to pee, but if I get up this seat will not be here when I get back. And I have no idea where the restrooms are.

…maybe this post should have been called ‘Bitching about attempting to write in Barnes and Noble’ instead. Also, it’s supposed to snow, but I haven’t seen so much as a flurry, so whatever. And BB lives, sending me notes about writer’s block. He’s so cute. Sigh.

It’s dark out, my laptop battery is dying, and now I really need to pee so I guess I will see all seventeen of you later. (Tee hee.)

Plugged in again to make two notes. One: the bathroom in Barnes and Noble has a sign about flushing with the word ‘flush’ in quotation marks. …is flush a euphemism for something that I don’t want to know about?

Two: This Barnes and Noble kicks the one in my neighborhood’s ass. Four floors, bigger cafe. But one thing the one in my neighborhood does better? More places to sit down, and they let you sit on the floor. This one has signs everywhere forbidding that.

Glee’s on in ten minutes, which means it is almost time for my weekly nonsensical poppy music fest!

Sincerely yours,