Today I found an apartment. Tomorrow I'll be going to give the lady some money and then I will be moving. Maybe as soon as tomorrow. Maybe the day after.
Also, I have fallen away from most of my Interwebs boys, for I met one that I absolutely adore.
Josh.
And between Josh and Nick, I am full of boys. I have one master and one pet and I am quite satisfied with the knowledge that the silly cutesy adorable feelings I have related to Josh are reciprocated and the basic master/slave bond Nick and I have has made us fairly attached to each other, and I feel complete and whole. I do think that I like.
Ok, shut up brain.
I KNOW that I like Josh a lot more than I like Nick. I like Josh enough to consider the idea of being completely attached to him and to see other people *with* him, as opposed to like, us both seeing people the way Nick and I do. Josh makes me want to spend all my time with him and to snuggle constantly, and he wriggles about and jumps around in cute ways and he's just. He's just. Oh, psssssh, I have not gotten this silly and happy about a boy in YEARS.
More later.
I must paint.
3.11.08
27.10.08
READING LIST OMGOMGOMG
Stranger in a Strange Land-- Robert Heinlein
Aldous Huxley, complete works [minus Brave New World]
Asimov, see above.
AntiCraft! and Domiknitrix, just to see what all the fuss is about
Note to self: Print a principia discordia, color with crayons in pretty colors. And some uglllly ones too. kk?
Aldous Huxley, complete works [minus Brave New World]
Asimov, see above.
AntiCraft! and Domiknitrix, just to see what all the fuss is about
Note to self: Print a principia discordia, color with crayons in pretty colors. And some uglllly ones too. kk?
26.10.08
Oh, Yes.
I don't think Anwar shall last too long. I did meet a great boy online who is incredibly awesome despite not meeting my height requirement. He's amusing. He has great taste in movies. He's in a band.
I also met another one, a Nihilistic Viking that tweaks my cynicism button nicely.
I do so love boys.
Nick met a girl named Kate, and had her over last night while we were hanging out. I'm not so sure I think Nick is good at this multi-partner thing like I originally thought. I've been in many of these situations before but last night was ridiculous and horrible and ostracizing and it was generally uncool. Plus, I don't really find myself terribly sexually attracted to Kate, AND she tasted weird.
Like, bad. Sour. Like milk-sour, not lemon-sour. Gross. In theory, this could be changed, but we'll see. I'm not really into her, but. Meh.
I really do like Keith, the one from Baltimore who is in the band. The one who is too short. I also kind of like the Viking one. It seems like he and I could have a really fucking wild-ass time. Drinking like crazy, edgeplay... Omg.
Anyway.
I'm going to work on my legwarmers now, because I need them by Friday in theory and I was lazy all weekend. I hope I have time to finish them...
I also met another one, a Nihilistic Viking that tweaks my cynicism button nicely.
I do so love boys.
Nick met a girl named Kate, and had her over last night while we were hanging out. I'm not so sure I think Nick is good at this multi-partner thing like I originally thought. I've been in many of these situations before but last night was ridiculous and horrible and ostracizing and it was generally uncool. Plus, I don't really find myself terribly sexually attracted to Kate, AND she tasted weird.
Like, bad. Sour. Like milk-sour, not lemon-sour. Gross. In theory, this could be changed, but we'll see. I'm not really into her, but. Meh.
I really do like Keith, the one from Baltimore who is in the band. The one who is too short. I also kind of like the Viking one. It seems like he and I could have a really fucking wild-ass time. Drinking like crazy, edgeplay... Omg.
Anyway.
I'm going to work on my legwarmers now, because I need them by Friday in theory and I was lazy all weekend. I hope I have time to finish them...
20.10.08
Real Virginia
I have to get rid of John. He's crazy possessive. I've known him less than a week and he seems to think I'm going to move in with him. He's been telling people I'm his girlfriend.
Seriously, what the fuck?
Plus his roommates that I thought were so awesome are so freaking crazy. Seriously. They are going to wind up killing each other over there.
Anyway. That's going to be awful, doing that. I don't want to hurt him; He's been hurt a whole damn lot in his life by women, which is why he's so freaking clingy and stuff, but seriously. I warned him. And I have been nothing but honest, and so I shouldn't feel bad. I just shouldn't.
Anyway, on a happier note, today the Executive Pastry Chef [Anwar] asked me for my number, after bringing me a still hot-from-the-oven macaroon. It was SO GOOD. This has clearly been a long time coming, and finally he worked up the nerve to ask me, so that's excellent. Trina-Trina thinks it's horribly cute, mostly because she can tease me and also because she can snag baked goodies out of the deal too. Trina-Trina is my favorite manager at the Hell Court.
Well. I do adore JoshFace too.
But.
I got to chat with Nick tonight for the first time in awhile, and that was nice. He went out with some girl, Analise, who apparently goes by "Anal" [snigger] over the weekend, and though I haven't met her he and I are both sure I'm not going to like her, though because he owns me and because I do ache to please him I will deal with having to spend time with her when that comes. Nick and I are to hang out this weekend I believe, and hopefully that means without Anal [snigger]. It's too bad that that one girl has Lyme Disease and therefore can't really. You know. Fuck around. She was nice, she was pretty, she had good energy about her. She likes cartoons.
Ugh, ugh, ugh. That stupid girl I don't like. Oh well.
Anyway. I'm busy talking to yet another boy on interwebs tonight, and so... Here I go, off to do other stuff now... More boys!
Seriously, what the fuck?
Plus his roommates that I thought were so awesome are so freaking crazy. Seriously. They are going to wind up killing each other over there.
Anyway. That's going to be awful, doing that. I don't want to hurt him; He's been hurt a whole damn lot in his life by women, which is why he's so freaking clingy and stuff, but seriously. I warned him. And I have been nothing but honest, and so I shouldn't feel bad. I just shouldn't.
Anyway, on a happier note, today the Executive Pastry Chef [Anwar] asked me for my number, after bringing me a still hot-from-the-oven macaroon. It was SO GOOD. This has clearly been a long time coming, and finally he worked up the nerve to ask me, so that's excellent. Trina-Trina thinks it's horribly cute, mostly because she can tease me and also because she can snag baked goodies out of the deal too. Trina-Trina is my favorite manager at the Hell Court.
Well. I do adore JoshFace too.
But.
I got to chat with Nick tonight for the first time in awhile, and that was nice. He went out with some girl, Analise, who apparently goes by "Anal" [snigger] over the weekend, and though I haven't met her he and I are both sure I'm not going to like her, though because he owns me and because I do ache to please him I will deal with having to spend time with her when that comes. Nick and I are to hang out this weekend I believe, and hopefully that means without Anal [snigger]. It's too bad that that one girl has Lyme Disease and therefore can't really. You know. Fuck around. She was nice, she was pretty, she had good energy about her. She likes cartoons.
Ugh, ugh, ugh. That stupid girl I don't like. Oh well.
Anyway. I'm busy talking to yet another boy on interwebs tonight, and so... Here I go, off to do other stuff now... More boys!
17.10.08
brash.
Turns out John and Ashley aren't actually together anymore. John and I are sort of seeing each other, in some vague semblance of together, with a variety of interesting addendums. His friends are neat and I like all of them lots, he calls me baby already [which was commented on by one of his friends in that exact way as I sat in the other room], he has given me a necklace that has a fucking scorpion inside it [which is neat as hell]... Plus we've been both sleeping together and fucking.
And I just finished talking to Odin, and I am crying a lot, and John will be here soon for me, so I'm going to go and clean my tear tracks off my face.
And I just finished talking to Odin, and I am crying a lot, and John will be here soon for me, so I'm going to go and clean my tear tracks off my face.
13.10.08
a ball on the hill
It was a long hiatus from interwebs. I did many things.
I made an ugly shirt into one of the cutest things I own. I spent the entire weekend with Nick: eating in various diners, watching cartoons, hunting down stuff unsuccessfully at Anime Pavillion, successfully hunting down stuff at Blockbuster, not watching movies due to wine and champagne and later whiskey, spending half of each day in bed wavering through various states of sleepy-wakefulness, hiking around gorgeous Virginia hillside, discussing attractive females we noticed along the way and methods of generally violating them, and looking at pictures of deformed fetuses his roommate had taken at some museum.
It's been hard getting used to my fingernails being gone. Nick says I've been domesticated and that he likes it much better this way. So that is how it is to be now, until I grow new ones that I have learned not to use. I'd so much rather have nails I can't use than to have no nails at all. My hands don't look like they belong to me anymore.
Also, this boy has been calling me non-stop. Literally. Like eight times in the past three or four days. I met him through Ashley, a girl who worked the afternoon shift at Exxon, when they came in together for blunt wraps and other such stuff, and they were dating. And now, what with all these phone calls I'm not entirely sure that they're still dating. Although. I did go in there the other night, when I was out with Nick and she definitely eyed me up AND down [I had a tiny little-girl style empire-waistline cotton dress on that came down to juuuuust past my panties and of course flared everywhere, with adorably patterned fishnets and my big goth mary janes and a thick belt under my bust], and so he could be calling so THEY can hang out with me. Though he did NOT specify that on the phone today. Just "hang out" is what he said. And that's just fine. I know he's a smoker and I know he's cute enough for me to have flirted with him before I realized he was dating my co-worker. Yay for that. I'm going to call him tomorrow. There will be hanging out.
Now that I think about it, I have no idea how he got my number. There is the chance that I gave it to him when I met him [he showed me his plants and gave me a gift and told me he could help me out if I needed him to], and there is the chance that Ashley snagged it, but seriously. I wouldn't know what else to consider.
Oh well.
It was minorly annoying, though, the fact that he had been calling "early" on Saturday, when Nick and I were still in bed... But then again, Nick and I got out of bed sometime after two, two-thirty. And then I told him I would call him and he still called me several times both Sunday AND today. Until finally I answered.
What can I say, I find desperation minorly annoying but hella adorable. Makes me smirk.
I think I perplex Nick because I am submissive and yet simultaneously dominating. I dominate in mental ways, in social situations, with boys I view as playthings or with girls in general--not because I view them as playthings the way I do men but because I like to see them bend to my will. And, likewise, I enjoy bending to theirs. I think he's finally really noticed that I will do anything he says, but sometimes I question him or wrinkle my nose or gripe a bit, and though I essentially behave I have given the illusion of disobedience. I think he MAY have noticed that I like to dominate social situations by staring down whomever is speaking to him or by just taking control of them before he does. The latter applies only to situations involving women directly, like in restaurats or grocery stores. Situations in which I am usually checking out the girl obviously and he is in a more clandestine manner. I dominate conversationally as much as possible, and on more than one occasion I've found myself caught in a Scorpio stare-down.
I'm pretty sure Nick has never dealt with a submissive dominant before.
I do love to do what is asked or needed of me; It makes me happy to perform tasks I've been appointed or to have expectations placed upon me and I wouldn't trade the happiness I get from being submissive and being owned, but I still like to know that somewhere underneath I am orchestrating this dance just as much as the master.
That is enough for now.
I am done.
I made an ugly shirt into one of the cutest things I own. I spent the entire weekend with Nick: eating in various diners, watching cartoons, hunting down stuff unsuccessfully at Anime Pavillion, successfully hunting down stuff at Blockbuster, not watching movies due to wine and champagne and later whiskey, spending half of each day in bed wavering through various states of sleepy-wakefulness, hiking around gorgeous Virginia hillside, discussing attractive females we noticed along the way and methods of generally violating them, and looking at pictures of deformed fetuses his roommate had taken at some museum.
It's been hard getting used to my fingernails being gone. Nick says I've been domesticated and that he likes it much better this way. So that is how it is to be now, until I grow new ones that I have learned not to use. I'd so much rather have nails I can't use than to have no nails at all. My hands don't look like they belong to me anymore.
Also, this boy has been calling me non-stop. Literally. Like eight times in the past three or four days. I met him through Ashley, a girl who worked the afternoon shift at Exxon, when they came in together for blunt wraps and other such stuff, and they were dating. And now, what with all these phone calls I'm not entirely sure that they're still dating. Although. I did go in there the other night, when I was out with Nick and she definitely eyed me up AND down [I had a tiny little-girl style empire-waistline cotton dress on that came down to juuuuust past my panties and of course flared everywhere, with adorably patterned fishnets and my big goth mary janes and a thick belt under my bust], and so he could be calling so THEY can hang out with me. Though he did NOT specify that on the phone today. Just "hang out" is what he said. And that's just fine. I know he's a smoker and I know he's cute enough for me to have flirted with him before I realized he was dating my co-worker. Yay for that. I'm going to call him tomorrow. There will be hanging out.
Now that I think about it, I have no idea how he got my number. There is the chance that I gave it to him when I met him [he showed me his plants and gave me a gift and told me he could help me out if I needed him to], and there is the chance that Ashley snagged it, but seriously. I wouldn't know what else to consider.
Oh well.
It was minorly annoying, though, the fact that he had been calling "early" on Saturday, when Nick and I were still in bed... But then again, Nick and I got out of bed sometime after two, two-thirty. And then I told him I would call him and he still called me several times both Sunday AND today. Until finally I answered.
What can I say, I find desperation minorly annoying but hella adorable. Makes me smirk.
I think I perplex Nick because I am submissive and yet simultaneously dominating. I dominate in mental ways, in social situations, with boys I view as playthings or with girls in general--not because I view them as playthings the way I do men but because I like to see them bend to my will. And, likewise, I enjoy bending to theirs. I think he's finally really noticed that I will do anything he says, but sometimes I question him or wrinkle my nose or gripe a bit, and though I essentially behave I have given the illusion of disobedience. I think he MAY have noticed that I like to dominate social situations by staring down whomever is speaking to him or by just taking control of them before he does. The latter applies only to situations involving women directly, like in restaurats or grocery stores. Situations in which I am usually checking out the girl obviously and he is in a more clandestine manner. I dominate conversationally as much as possible, and on more than one occasion I've found myself caught in a Scorpio stare-down.
I'm pretty sure Nick has never dealt with a submissive dominant before.
I do love to do what is asked or needed of me; It makes me happy to perform tasks I've been appointed or to have expectations placed upon me and I wouldn't trade the happiness I get from being submissive and being owned, but I still like to know that somewhere underneath I am orchestrating this dance just as much as the master.
That is enough for now.
I am done.
8.10.08
five, five.
I have finished Story of O. The ending was. Disappointing. For reasons best left unspoken, in case anyone reads this before reading it, for then it will be ruined.
What is most interesting to me is that as O progressively becomes more the slave, the possession, she finds more of herself and her finer qualities within that; She is pleased by being seen as useful for the fulfilment of desire, is both terrified and enticed by the torture she is repeatedly forced to endure, by the bonds she is forced to wear with permanence. As the story develops, O becomes an open-minded and strong woman, yet she is still timid and fragile. The book was really moving.
I found most interesting slight correlations to this story and to my own life, especially considering the things that happened with me that made these connections logical happened prior to my even knowing this book existed.
For instance.
I have been owned by Nic for six years, and even when we were together and he had any sort of power he could have wished to wield, he did not. After making a "deal" of sorts with Nick, in that anything I am uncomfortable with sexually I am allowed to refuse--however, it brings an immediate end to our sexual relationship [and to any other relationship except pure friendship, obviously], temporary ownership was transferred to him. So, until the new year, when it must be renewed if desired, Nick is my new owner, possessing both my body and with the freedom to not worry about whether or not I am interested in doing what he wants me to.
Of course, I am more than willing to do as he asks, but I like that he gets gratification from the knowledge that I am unable to refuse. For while I am able, it brings with it a consequence I have absolutely no desire for.
I do worry about becoming attached to Nick. I can't imagine what would happen psychologically to me if that occured, because. Because I've decided that I don't want to be attached to anyone, but in a way, I do want to be attached to him.
I warned him about it, he told me somesuch about how it sounded sort of nice, because it involved things like being baked and knitted for and being taken care of variously.
I don't think he really understands that it means I shall become a possessive object, no longer something only to be owned but something that has her own ideas of what it means to be owned and how she should be emotionally reassured of such ownership, of the owner's desire and, if applicable, love, of how much she is wanted.
These are things I'm not sure he would want to deal with...
Awhile ago he said he wanted one girl to bond with and several to fuck, and I told him he should get to finding that. He told me he felt that I could be a good bonding-with girl, but I know he has issues with me being a Mom.
Knowing that the fact that I have a child bothers him even in the slightest, that he had EVER been bothered by it upsets me very much, more than any amount of objectification ever could, more than anything ever, except for when it was an issue to Nic. But I was very in love with Nic, and when Nick was initially irked by Odin I was drunk and sassy. And I hadn't even met him.
Since writing that Nick has gotten online and I have lost entirely my train of thought. Which is too bad. I had a lot more to say.
I shall be spending the entire weekend with Nick, and as soon as he decides what we're going to do he's going to tell me how to pack. He's been talking to a girl called Nicole, who I have not been allowed to talk to yet, about hanging out with us this weekend.
I can't describe how much I like being referred to as an "us".
I'm going to go do things now. Other things than this.
What is most interesting to me is that as O progressively becomes more the slave, the possession, she finds more of herself and her finer qualities within that; She is pleased by being seen as useful for the fulfilment of desire, is both terrified and enticed by the torture she is repeatedly forced to endure, by the bonds she is forced to wear with permanence. As the story develops, O becomes an open-minded and strong woman, yet she is still timid and fragile. The book was really moving.
I found most interesting slight correlations to this story and to my own life, especially considering the things that happened with me that made these connections logical happened prior to my even knowing this book existed.
For instance.
I have been owned by Nic for six years, and even when we were together and he had any sort of power he could have wished to wield, he did not. After making a "deal" of sorts with Nick, in that anything I am uncomfortable with sexually I am allowed to refuse--however, it brings an immediate end to our sexual relationship [and to any other relationship except pure friendship, obviously], temporary ownership was transferred to him. So, until the new year, when it must be renewed if desired, Nick is my new owner, possessing both my body and with the freedom to not worry about whether or not I am interested in doing what he wants me to.
Of course, I am more than willing to do as he asks, but I like that he gets gratification from the knowledge that I am unable to refuse. For while I am able, it brings with it a consequence I have absolutely no desire for.
I do worry about becoming attached to Nick. I can't imagine what would happen psychologically to me if that occured, because. Because I've decided that I don't want to be attached to anyone, but in a way, I do want to be attached to him.
I warned him about it, he told me somesuch about how it sounded sort of nice, because it involved things like being baked and knitted for and being taken care of variously.
I don't think he really understands that it means I shall become a possessive object, no longer something only to be owned but something that has her own ideas of what it means to be owned and how she should be emotionally reassured of such ownership, of the owner's desire and, if applicable, love, of how much she is wanted.
These are things I'm not sure he would want to deal with...
Awhile ago he said he wanted one girl to bond with and several to fuck, and I told him he should get to finding that. He told me he felt that I could be a good bonding-with girl, but I know he has issues with me being a Mom.
Knowing that the fact that I have a child bothers him even in the slightest, that he had EVER been bothered by it upsets me very much, more than any amount of objectification ever could, more than anything ever, except for when it was an issue to Nic. But I was very in love with Nic, and when Nick was initially irked by Odin I was drunk and sassy. And I hadn't even met him.
Since writing that Nick has gotten online and I have lost entirely my train of thought. Which is too bad. I had a lot more to say.
I shall be spending the entire weekend with Nick, and as soon as he decides what we're going to do he's going to tell me how to pack. He's been talking to a girl called Nicole, who I have not been allowed to talk to yet, about hanging out with us this weekend.
I can't describe how much I like being referred to as an "us".
I'm going to go do things now. Other things than this.
My List.
Of things I want to be when I grow up.
1. Vampire
2. Rapunzel
3. Other Princess of Fairy-Tale Origins
4. A False Idol
5. Martha Stewart, only prettier
6. Trapeeze Artist
7. Mysterious Hermit-Type Atop a Mountain
8. Barbie's brunette friend Teresa
9. LORD OF ALL HUMANS
10. Nothing Special, but having survived the Zombie Event.
11. Medusa
12. A Trophy Wife
13. The Hot Mom
14. Longhaired Hippie
15. Sorceress and/or Necromancer
16. The Ultimate Evil
17. Sane
1. Vampire
2. Rapunzel
3. Other Princess of Fairy-Tale Origins
4. A False Idol
5. Martha Stewart, only prettier
6. Trapeeze Artist
7. Mysterious Hermit-Type Atop a Mountain
8. Barbie's brunette friend Teresa
9. LORD OF ALL HUMANS
10. Nothing Special, but having survived the Zombie Event.
11. Medusa
12. A Trophy Wife
13. The Hot Mom
14. Longhaired Hippie
15. Sorceress and/or Necromancer
16. The Ultimate Evil
17. Sane
7.10.08
Foodcourtia
Today was bad news-good news day.
Bad News: Doug's not moving down here; Odin will likely have to stay in MI longer than planned.
Good News: I got to work in both the Creamery and Commissary today.
Bad News: I had to peel and subsequently slice 150 lbs. of onions.
Good News: Anwar, the Executive Pastry Chef, made me special cookies--Just for meeeee! They were like cookies and brownies in one.
Bad News: I ruined my pastel drawing by trying to do the river and reflection of the trees.
Good News: I got a piece of Korean plum candy as a tip; I was also told I was a "ray of sunshine" and also by several people how cheery and happy I was. My manager told me she loved me. Yay <3
Bad News: Graham is going to have to have surgery and is in bad condition.
Good News: I finally know what happened to him; He fell from somewhere high up and smashed the fuck out of his arm. No more wondering.
Bad News: I haven't done yoga in a long time, also quitting smoking is no fun.
Good News: Nick and I are looking for other girls to mess around with. So that's nice. I get to approve them as I'm a necessary element to the process of attaining another girl. To keep him from looking like a creep and stuff. Or to just get them myself.
Good News: We all have to wear headsets at work. I feel like a Technocrat. Or, as Daisy says, "Robot!" Then she *dances*. I LOVE Daisy.
I hope that turns out well; I have not had a good time with a woman in quite awhile. Nick said awhile ago that he wanted to do this, but he jumped on it with haste I had thought unimaginable. Doug used to make me do all the legwork for females, so this is pretty nice. Plus Nick has assumed temporary ownership of me from Nic [funny, that], and so while he asks my opinion and such he is not really so much asking as just seeing how I'm going to react beforehand. Also for quick accurate summations of personality and looks, because I'm good at that. I like being able to provide him with the means to make a decision for us.
I'm also very happy he's decided to use me in unision with other women. Yay for that.
And!
Nick has provided today's pr0n! Yay!
Bad News: Doug's not moving down here; Odin will likely have to stay in MI longer than planned.
Good News: I got to work in both the Creamery and Commissary today.
Bad News: I had to peel and subsequently slice 150 lbs. of onions.
Good News: Anwar, the Executive Pastry Chef, made me special cookies--Just for meeeee! They were like cookies and brownies in one.
Bad News: I ruined my pastel drawing by trying to do the river and reflection of the trees.
Good News: I got a piece of Korean plum candy as a tip; I was also told I was a "ray of sunshine" and also by several people how cheery and happy I was. My manager told me she loved me. Yay <3
Bad News: Graham is going to have to have surgery and is in bad condition.
Good News: I finally know what happened to him; He fell from somewhere high up and smashed the fuck out of his arm. No more wondering.
Bad News: I haven't done yoga in a long time, also quitting smoking is no fun.
Good News: Nick and I are looking for other girls to mess around with. So that's nice. I get to approve them as I'm a necessary element to the process of attaining another girl. To keep him from looking like a creep and stuff. Or to just get them myself.
Good News: We all have to wear headsets at work. I feel like a Technocrat. Or, as Daisy says, "Robot!" Then she *dances*. I LOVE Daisy.
I hope that turns out well; I have not had a good time with a woman in quite awhile. Nick said awhile ago that he wanted to do this, but he jumped on it with haste I had thought unimaginable. Doug used to make me do all the legwork for females, so this is pretty nice. Plus Nick has assumed temporary ownership of me from Nic [funny, that], and so while he asks my opinion and such he is not really so much asking as just seeing how I'm going to react beforehand. Also for quick accurate summations of personality and looks, because I'm good at that. I like being able to provide him with the means to make a decision for us.
I'm also very happy he's decided to use me in unision with other women. Yay for that.
And!
Nick has provided today's pr0n! Yay!
6.10.08
Broken Wings
I started an oil pastel drawing today. This is the first time I have ever tried to seriously portray something non-abstract.
I think it might actually look good, though I am reluctant to say that because as soon as I take pride in it I'm sure someone will come along and just rip me to shreds for being pleased at creating something that isn't as awesome as I'd thought. I'd much rather think it's awful and someday maybe someone will say something nice about it and then I can be happy in my brain. Anyway, it's not finished. It's a part of the mountain across the river, and the sun went down too soon for me to even consider starting the river-part of the drawing.
Also, my sleeves are nearly finished. I would like to have them done by tonight, for I only have seven inches of stockinette to complete [two extra inches than the pattern for my arms are looooo-o-ong] and then the shoulder cap, and then unravelling dropped stitches. Which makes me nervous, but the book seems to think I can handle it. We'll see what happens.
Story of O is progressing in mentally thwacking ways. It makes nothing but complete sense to me, O's realizations that not only is she a possession, an object, in a sense a slave, she is grateful to be treated as such because it gives her meaning. To receive punishments, to be whipped for no reason but her master's pleasure, to be "readily available", these things mean everything to her because they reaffirm who she is.
It's true that being objectified is pleasant. To be viewed in such a light as deemed worthy to make an object of says in itself that you are wanted, and you are wanted for a purpose. Being the object that meets the necessity of one you love, that's even better. I love my subservient qualities; I enjoy providing pleasure to others with little to no regard for my own. I can understand that some women find this shocking and pathetic, but I think the same of them and their pursuits. These are women who do not understand the difference between being the object of someone who views women as toys and uses them accordingly and of being the possession of someone who loves the woman he owns and is thankful that she gratefully and willingly acquiesces to his whims, thus showing her love in return.
But that's enough.
Mashed po-ta-toes time, and knitting. MUST FINISH SLEEVES. MUST BLOCK SLEEVES. Omg. It's almost done.
I think it might actually look good, though I am reluctant to say that because as soon as I take pride in it I'm sure someone will come along and just rip me to shreds for being pleased at creating something that isn't as awesome as I'd thought. I'd much rather think it's awful and someday maybe someone will say something nice about it and then I can be happy in my brain. Anyway, it's not finished. It's a part of the mountain across the river, and the sun went down too soon for me to even consider starting the river-part of the drawing.
Also, my sleeves are nearly finished. I would like to have them done by tonight, for I only have seven inches of stockinette to complete [two extra inches than the pattern for my arms are looooo-o-ong] and then the shoulder cap, and then unravelling dropped stitches. Which makes me nervous, but the book seems to think I can handle it. We'll see what happens.
Story of O is progressing in mentally thwacking ways. It makes nothing but complete sense to me, O's realizations that not only is she a possession, an object, in a sense a slave, she is grateful to be treated as such because it gives her meaning. To receive punishments, to be whipped for no reason but her master's pleasure, to be "readily available", these things mean everything to her because they reaffirm who she is.
It's true that being objectified is pleasant. To be viewed in such a light as deemed worthy to make an object of says in itself that you are wanted, and you are wanted for a purpose. Being the object that meets the necessity of one you love, that's even better. I love my subservient qualities; I enjoy providing pleasure to others with little to no regard for my own. I can understand that some women find this shocking and pathetic, but I think the same of them and their pursuits. These are women who do not understand the difference between being the object of someone who views women as toys and uses them accordingly and of being the possession of someone who loves the woman he owns and is thankful that she gratefully and willingly acquiesces to his whims, thus showing her love in return.
But that's enough.
Mashed po-ta-toes time, and knitting. MUST FINISH SLEEVES. MUST BLOCK SLEEVES. Omg. It's almost done.
5.10.08
Worst Enemy
I went today to the Waterford Fair.
Waterford is a small village/town that is still as it was when it was founded--the late 1700s. All the houses are adorable... Even the scenery is pristine [no giant subdivisions of McMansions to view, only sprawling fields with corn or sheep or barns].
I made friends with knitters first and foremost. I met lovely Englishwoman, Sue Radford, who knits some lovely crazy things and also some classic Irish-styles [her father was Irish, and she told me she could see how Irish I was, and that made me very happy] and her booth-helper/fellow knitter who is my age [I think her name is Lauren]. She and I became friends superfast. I bought a hairstick/shawl pin from Sue, it is beautiful, made of wood from her peach tree with a big, openwork wooden bead on the top. They reaffirmed me on my socks-mission, and now I'm just not afraid of them at all. It makes a huge difference when you hear in person that yes, of course you can handle a short-row heel!! No problem! And if you don't like how it works, just try a new method for each pair of socks you make and you'll soon find something you love.
I helped a woman pick out a leather bracelet for her nephew's sixteenth-birthday gift.
I met some needlefelters and a weaver, who sold lovely skeins of yarn for ridiculous prices--even for a craft fair. Even for a prestigious craft fair. I also met a weaver who sold gorgeous yarns, angora, alpaca, camel, yak, but also too expensive.
I bought a skein of homespun Corriedale and silk in shades of olive. It is gorgeous and shall become these Dystopian Mitts.
Then I wandered around and saw loads of cheap, easily knitted novelty hats for kids [pumpkins, apples, etc] and booties and cheap fun-fur scarves priced from $25-$50!!! Seriously! Makes me realize that I should be knitting cheap, easily done things from time to time and selling them for ridiculous prices. But I'd rather knit a small number of really beautiful things than scam a dozen rolled-brim hat out of Lion Brand Homespun for thirty bucks apiece. I'm really not that capitalistic. Isn't art supposed to be about the joy of the creative process? I dunno when money became such a huge deal. Losers.
I also saw some gorgeous paintings that made me wish I had more aritistic talent. Some were lovely collage works... I cannot describe them.
Oh, and I had nachos. That was cool too.
So now I'm at home, stuffed full of shrimp and ice cream, and about half done knitting the sleeves of my straitjacket. Thankfully there are only about three and a half inches of the dreaded fifteen inches of ribbing... Kudos to me for deciding to knit both sleeves at once.
I am approximately half done with Story of O.
It is astounding and amazing and several other a-adjectives. It's mysterious and compelling, full of just what's happening *now* and occaisonal bits of conversation or thought. It jumps right in with O's delivery to Roissy, where she is "broken" sexually, taught to be a desirious object, shown that her only purpose is to be constantly available. Constantly, by any of the "masters" or "valets" as they choose to want her, and then after her release, from any who recognizes the ring on her finger and what it stands for.
It's an awesome book.
I'm off for reading and South Park.
Byeee.
Waterford is a small village/town that is still as it was when it was founded--the late 1700s. All the houses are adorable... Even the scenery is pristine [no giant subdivisions of McMansions to view, only sprawling fields with corn or sheep or barns].
I made friends with knitters first and foremost. I met lovely Englishwoman, Sue Radford, who knits some lovely crazy things and also some classic Irish-styles [her father was Irish, and she told me she could see how Irish I was, and that made me very happy] and her booth-helper/fellow knitter who is my age [I think her name is Lauren]. She and I became friends superfast. I bought a hairstick/shawl pin from Sue, it is beautiful, made of wood from her peach tree with a big, openwork wooden bead on the top. They reaffirmed me on my socks-mission, and now I'm just not afraid of them at all. It makes a huge difference when you hear in person that yes, of course you can handle a short-row heel!! No problem! And if you don't like how it works, just try a new method for each pair of socks you make and you'll soon find something you love.
I helped a woman pick out a leather bracelet for her nephew's sixteenth-birthday gift.
I met some needlefelters and a weaver, who sold lovely skeins of yarn for ridiculous prices--even for a craft fair. Even for a prestigious craft fair. I also met a weaver who sold gorgeous yarns, angora, alpaca, camel, yak, but also too expensive.
I bought a skein of homespun Corriedale and silk in shades of olive. It is gorgeous and shall become these Dystopian Mitts.
Then I wandered around and saw loads of cheap, easily knitted novelty hats for kids [pumpkins, apples, etc] and booties and cheap fun-fur scarves priced from $25-$50!!! Seriously! Makes me realize that I should be knitting cheap, easily done things from time to time and selling them for ridiculous prices. But I'd rather knit a small number of really beautiful things than scam a dozen rolled-brim hat out of Lion Brand Homespun for thirty bucks apiece. I'm really not that capitalistic. Isn't art supposed to be about the joy of the creative process? I dunno when money became such a huge deal. Losers.
I also saw some gorgeous paintings that made me wish I had more aritistic talent. Some were lovely collage works... I cannot describe them.
Oh, and I had nachos. That was cool too.
So now I'm at home, stuffed full of shrimp and ice cream, and about half done knitting the sleeves of my straitjacket. Thankfully there are only about three and a half inches of the dreaded fifteen inches of ribbing... Kudos to me for deciding to knit both sleeves at once.
I am approximately half done with Story of O.
It is astounding and amazing and several other a-adjectives. It's mysterious and compelling, full of just what's happening *now* and occaisonal bits of conversation or thought. It jumps right in with O's delivery to Roissy, where she is "broken" sexually, taught to be a desirious object, shown that her only purpose is to be constantly available. Constantly, by any of the "masters" or "valets" as they choose to want her, and then after her release, from any who recognizes the ring on her finger and what it stands for.
It's an awesome book.
I'm off for reading and South Park.
Byeee.
4.10.08
Hold Still
Last night was good.
I spent a number of hours in a three-story Barnes and Noble. I came out with Brave New World and Story of O and some postcards. I wanted to buy the entire store, but managed to eek out with only the aforementioned.
I got picked up by Nick after his business dinner [he had, in fact, taken me to said bookstore, having picked me up from work], and we had a typical Skittles-whiskey-sex-cartoons kind of night. Pretty good lineup, though around Birdman we got pretty tired of the TV.
It was a different sort of sex experience [pretty standard stuff, sex-wise], not even remotely the sort we had before, and yet not lovey and mushy and romantic... Which is good. I get attached to men easily when things like that happen. You know. Lovey-sweet things. With Nick that is a real concern for me, because he's got these incredibly trapping eyes, and a very endearing spirit, and he gave me a very lovely tarot reading today. His cards are amazing...
Last weekend I tried very hard to feel his energy but was entirely unable to do so, no matter how hard I tried or where I tried to feel it from, and last night as well... But today, on the car ride home I held his hand and laid my other hand on his inner wrist and there it was. At the exact moment I felt him he asked me if I could feel it [for I had told him how I couldn't, and we both tried to figure out exactly why but just didn't know]. He was sky blue with swirls of grey, and physically warm as well.
I put back everything I took out of him, but I did not put any of myself into him. That is something I am entirely unprepared for. That would make me way too connected to him for what I'm ready to handle. I sent him something pink with joy, and closed him back up carefully, for it is not good to run around with your energy leaking all over the place.
But anyway. I am going to go and read a book right now.
Though I haven't decided which one.
I spent a number of hours in a three-story Barnes and Noble. I came out with Brave New World and Story of O and some postcards. I wanted to buy the entire store, but managed to eek out with only the aforementioned.
I got picked up by Nick after his business dinner [he had, in fact, taken me to said bookstore, having picked me up from work], and we had a typical Skittles-whiskey-sex-cartoons kind of night. Pretty good lineup, though around Birdman we got pretty tired of the TV.
It was a different sort of sex experience [pretty standard stuff, sex-wise], not even remotely the sort we had before, and yet not lovey and mushy and romantic... Which is good. I get attached to men easily when things like that happen. You know. Lovey-sweet things. With Nick that is a real concern for me, because he's got these incredibly trapping eyes, and a very endearing spirit, and he gave me a very lovely tarot reading today. His cards are amazing...
Last weekend I tried very hard to feel his energy but was entirely unable to do so, no matter how hard I tried or where I tried to feel it from, and last night as well... But today, on the car ride home I held his hand and laid my other hand on his inner wrist and there it was. At the exact moment I felt him he asked me if I could feel it [for I had told him how I couldn't, and we both tried to figure out exactly why but just didn't know]. He was sky blue with swirls of grey, and physically warm as well.
I put back everything I took out of him, but I did not put any of myself into him. That is something I am entirely unprepared for. That would make me way too connected to him for what I'm ready to handle. I sent him something pink with joy, and closed him back up carefully, for it is not good to run around with your energy leaking all over the place.
But anyway. I am going to go and read a book right now.
Though I haven't decided which one.
28.9.08
Intro-OutroSpection
So, things have been interesting lately.
I've spent forever watching movies where some woman has some sort of really life-changing interesting, introspective, crazy thing happen, something out of character that winds up being totally wonderful. That's kind of how things are becoming.
It's come a lot through exploring sexuality through various means, with a lot of introspective conversation about the past and the present with someone who is a complete stranger. There's nothing that isn't entirely open conversationally, from the onset of female sexuality to its progression, forces that formed it, and methods it finds its way out. I've always been a fairly sexual person, but discussing its finer points has always been another matter, pretty much until now.
It's really interesting, being so completely open with things like what is visually attractive enough to be something I'd think about while alone, discussing the sexuality of the pregnant woman, the pleasures of riding a bike while young, finding the words to accurately describe an orgasm, or what it's like to pick flesh out of my fingernails with my teeth after sex, or the pleasure of biting a throat and feeling the muscles tense under my teeth, or my lust for blood, the joy of seeing beads of blood spring up, ready to be licked from the flesh they've been born of...
There's an adorably funny girl I've been flirting with on interwebs for the past few days. I met her when she sent me a message asking me if I could tell her where her favorite cartoon quote came from.
"i'm not drunk! you the drunk one."
then, from the same character:
"that is for me and god to decide!"
So, how can I possibly respond to that?
That is totally Master Shake and Meatwad, whilst Meatwad is trapped inside Nathan the Bunny Rabbit.
Ha, right before Frylock fries them all, gets covered in snake goo, and lives out his dream of hanging with the wrong crowd...
"No I didn't!"
"Yes, you did"
"No. I didn't."
"Yeeessssssss yooooouuuu diiiiiiiddddd"
So now I have a new friend, and that makes me happy.
I've also been exploring physical sexuality lately, trying out new things and new situations, entering the kinkier side of sex as opposed to the passionate realm I usually live in. It's something entirely new, standing quite still, head weighed down with apparati [basic things, you know, collar, blindfold, gag], holding my hair back with my hands on my head because that's where I've been told to keep them. Placed in strange-to-me positions, taken to various stages of undress, photos being taken, amazing feats of rope-work, face-fucking and vibrators and asphyxiation, and this is only in the introductory night. Things are really only going to get more intense. I've heard some iteresting things he's cooked up in the past and I am nothing but intrigued.
It's not really as coarse and unemotional as it seems; There was substantial untying and snuggles and kisses time afterward, and then pizza and smoking and cartoons and berries and candy. We even had grownup drinks, which I'm not used to at all. And I don't mean that like I can't take drinking bourbon with ice, only that I don't often find myself in situations where I'm served straight liquor in anything but a shot glass.
Seriously great night. It may sound weird to some people, but it's really nice to be treated like a possession, to know that someone actually wants you enough to own you. I like being told what to do, and I like having someone take the initiative to do whatever he wants to me without asking what's okay, and still being treated like some cute cuddly creature afterward.
It's been a really interesting time for me. I feel much more mentally open, much more okay with being who and what I am. Sharing your innermost lifelong thoughts is a pretty intense thing, and even the things we haven't talked about yet I'm sure we'll get to eventually. It's nice. I feel totally different than I when I came down here. I look out the window and I see the same old river, the same old bushes, the same old falcon, but I see them in a different way now. They are the same and yet they look totally different.
I've learned that being a physically open creature is very different than being a sexually open creature. Sexual openness isn't about testing things and being willing to "try anything once" or any other such catchphrase, but about being comfortable in who and what you are sexually, what turns you on, what you like to do to yourself and to others, and how you live sexually.
That wrinkled-nose "that's gross" standpoint of so many people was something that nagged at the back of my mind as though it was begging me to pay attention to it, angry at my refusal, and now it's gone entirely. It's learned that it just doesn't belong here. I like it better like that.
Things are going well here. I'm having a great time in the South. Here's some porn for you guys.
I've spent forever watching movies where some woman has some sort of really life-changing interesting, introspective, crazy thing happen, something out of character that winds up being totally wonderful. That's kind of how things are becoming.
It's come a lot through exploring sexuality through various means, with a lot of introspective conversation about the past and the present with someone who is a complete stranger. There's nothing that isn't entirely open conversationally, from the onset of female sexuality to its progression, forces that formed it, and methods it finds its way out. I've always been a fairly sexual person, but discussing its finer points has always been another matter, pretty much until now.
It's really interesting, being so completely open with things like what is visually attractive enough to be something I'd think about while alone, discussing the sexuality of the pregnant woman, the pleasures of riding a bike while young, finding the words to accurately describe an orgasm, or what it's like to pick flesh out of my fingernails with my teeth after sex, or the pleasure of biting a throat and feeling the muscles tense under my teeth, or my lust for blood, the joy of seeing beads of blood spring up, ready to be licked from the flesh they've been born of...
There's an adorably funny girl I've been flirting with on interwebs for the past few days. I met her when she sent me a message asking me if I could tell her where her favorite cartoon quote came from.
"i'm not drunk! you the drunk one."
then, from the same character:
"that is for me and god to decide!"
So, how can I possibly respond to that?
That is totally Master Shake and Meatwad, whilst Meatwad is trapped inside Nathan the Bunny Rabbit.
Ha, right before Frylock fries them all, gets covered in snake goo, and lives out his dream of hanging with the wrong crowd...
"No I didn't!"
"Yes, you did"
"No. I didn't."
"Yeeessssssss yooooouuuu diiiiiiiddddd"
So now I have a new friend, and that makes me happy.
I've also been exploring physical sexuality lately, trying out new things and new situations, entering the kinkier side of sex as opposed to the passionate realm I usually live in. It's something entirely new, standing quite still, head weighed down with apparati [basic things, you know, collar, blindfold, gag], holding my hair back with my hands on my head because that's where I've been told to keep them. Placed in strange-to-me positions, taken to various stages of undress, photos being taken, amazing feats of rope-work, face-fucking and vibrators and asphyxiation, and this is only in the introductory night. Things are really only going to get more intense. I've heard some iteresting things he's cooked up in the past and I am nothing but intrigued.
It's not really as coarse and unemotional as it seems; There was substantial untying and snuggles and kisses time afterward, and then pizza and smoking and cartoons and berries and candy. We even had grownup drinks, which I'm not used to at all. And I don't mean that like I can't take drinking bourbon with ice, only that I don't often find myself in situations where I'm served straight liquor in anything but a shot glass.
Seriously great night. It may sound weird to some people, but it's really nice to be treated like a possession, to know that someone actually wants you enough to own you. I like being told what to do, and I like having someone take the initiative to do whatever he wants to me without asking what's okay, and still being treated like some cute cuddly creature afterward.
It's been a really interesting time for me. I feel much more mentally open, much more okay with being who and what I am. Sharing your innermost lifelong thoughts is a pretty intense thing, and even the things we haven't talked about yet I'm sure we'll get to eventually. It's nice. I feel totally different than I when I came down here. I look out the window and I see the same old river, the same old bushes, the same old falcon, but I see them in a different way now. They are the same and yet they look totally different.
I've learned that being a physically open creature is very different than being a sexually open creature. Sexual openness isn't about testing things and being willing to "try anything once" or any other such catchphrase, but about being comfortable in who and what you are sexually, what turns you on, what you like to do to yourself and to others, and how you live sexually.
That wrinkled-nose "that's gross" standpoint of so many people was something that nagged at the back of my mind as though it was begging me to pay attention to it, angry at my refusal, and now it's gone entirely. It's learned that it just doesn't belong here. I like it better like that.
Things are going well here. I'm having a great time in the South. Here's some porn for you guys.
14.9.08
apathy
Softcore for today.
Aaaaanywho, I am pissed. I am pissed at Graham, for being all sorts of not-around yesterday, and for there being no myspacings or emails or anything about him not being there. Naturally I immediately there's some girl I should kill.
And yet, at the same time, Cory is trying to set me up with his friend [whose name I forget, but he's tall and dark haired and was also really nice to me] and I might just go along with that.
Ok, actually, I told Cory we should hang out sometime, but I mostly meant just because I need to make friends here and all. But still, you know, I really could use a good fuck. Or several. In a row. And then again in the morning.
But, you know, Graham is being really lame in general about this whole thing. He likes to talk about "us" and the future and everything, and never about making actual plans and he still is "nervous" about the phone, and you know, it doesn't even make me upset anymore, it just fucking hurts.
Argh, moving on.
I aaaaaam, bored.
I'm very bored.
Nothing sounds like fun.
I'm so apathetic.
I have an interview in two hours, and I don't even care if I get this job, even though it would be good for me. I just can't care about anything.
10.9.08
8.9.08
High-Five for the Morning!
My Aunt showed up to get me from work early today, so I didn't get to burn one with Corey out behind the dumpsters. Which fucking blows. It's okay, I guess, cause I do have some beer, but after smoking yesterday for the first time in three weeks and knowing that [pending he works that day] THURSDAY is the earliest I'll get to burn another... Argh. I told my Aunt it's best not to pick me up until about 7.40 am-wise.
But the day marches on. I do have beer, Magic Hat, which we did not have in Michigan. It's... Alright. I wouldn't bother buying it again. I also have Cheetos. And a hunk of Munster. And I can always go out and have a cigarette on the dock, because Aunt Alice won't be up for a few hours... She goes back to sleep after she gets me, after all.
I need a car. I need also to bring some cash in for Corey so he can bring me some stuffffff... I need to do some knitting. I started Quant, but I'm on my first section of picking up stitches and have to take it out because I'm using the same yarn for Graham's tie and I need to knit many, many more inches. Fourteen of them or so. And then re-block the whole thing. I can do that today... I guess. I also need to start Doug's socks and also my socks, and work a bit on Serina's Chevron Mitts.
I just picked up Naughty Needles, and all I can say is "omg, who's gonna knit a mermaid tail?"
Yeah, that's me. Though I think first to come will be the Fembot nightie, and also the sock garters and the garter-slip. Uh, and the whole rest of the book. Amy totally wants me to knit her a whip, and so I am all kinds of going to do that. I was thinking about just knitting a practice one up in some Red Heart, because I don't have my stash here and I found some old Red Heart in black and red in a box and my Aunt doesn't want it. I should go check needle size and decide if I'm gonna make it.
All I have here with me are two pair straights, sizes 1 and 2, and four pair dpns, sizes 0, 1, 3, and 7. Seriously, what kind of sense does that make? Why didn't I just bring my needle roll? What was I doing that I was so scatterbrained?
...Oh yeah. I probably can't count all those substances that crossed my lips/lungs this past Spring/Summer. What a fucking crazy time. Ok, I got to twelve and decided I'd better quit while I was ahead. Oh maaaan. Fun times, though.
Also, every time I listen to Mushroomhead I feel a bit like I'm tripping. Same with Primus. Let's have a special moment of reverie, eh? Nothing like driving down the street with the windows down, singing along and growling "If it was up to me I'd free Charles Manson" at random passersby... heheheheeeeheheeee.
But.
I think the time has come for me to go scour pattern info, maybe veg on Ravelry for awhile, get another beer, go have a smoke on the dock, consider walking the two hours to work tomorrow night just to see Amy, 'cause I love 'er, realize that I'm picking up the slang and accent already now that I have a job here, grab yet another beer, and then knit and knit until I decide to do something the fuck else. I should hang out with Crystal sometime, now that she's not working at Tristate anymore. I like that place, though, me and my penchant for sleazy jobs.
I love them. I love the people you meet and the things you can get away with. Ah. Work.
And let's make porn a standard item in my posts, cause Allier appreciated it, and I know I sure do...
But the day marches on. I do have beer, Magic Hat, which we did not have in Michigan. It's... Alright. I wouldn't bother buying it again. I also have Cheetos. And a hunk of Munster. And I can always go out and have a cigarette on the dock, because Aunt Alice won't be up for a few hours... She goes back to sleep after she gets me, after all.
I need a car. I need also to bring some cash in for Corey so he can bring me some stuffffff... I need to do some knitting. I started Quant, but I'm on my first section of picking up stitches and have to take it out because I'm using the same yarn for Graham's tie and I need to knit many, many more inches. Fourteen of them or so. And then re-block the whole thing. I can do that today... I guess. I also need to start Doug's socks and also my socks, and work a bit on Serina's Chevron Mitts.
I just picked up Naughty Needles, and all I can say is "omg, who's gonna knit a mermaid tail?"
Yeah, that's me. Though I think first to come will be the Fembot nightie, and also the sock garters and the garter-slip. Uh, and the whole rest of the book. Amy totally wants me to knit her a whip, and so I am all kinds of going to do that. I was thinking about just knitting a practice one up in some Red Heart, because I don't have my stash here and I found some old Red Heart in black and red in a box and my Aunt doesn't want it. I should go check needle size and decide if I'm gonna make it.
All I have here with me are two pair straights, sizes 1 and 2, and four pair dpns, sizes 0, 1, 3, and 7. Seriously, what kind of sense does that make? Why didn't I just bring my needle roll? What was I doing that I was so scatterbrained?
...Oh yeah. I probably can't count all those substances that crossed my lips/lungs this past Spring/Summer. What a fucking crazy time. Ok, I got to twelve and decided I'd better quit while I was ahead. Oh maaaan. Fun times, though.
Also, every time I listen to Mushroomhead I feel a bit like I'm tripping. Same with Primus. Let's have a special moment of reverie, eh? Nothing like driving down the street with the windows down, singing along and growling "If it was up to me I'd free Charles Manson" at random passersby... heheheheeeeheheeee.
But.
I think the time has come for me to go scour pattern info, maybe veg on Ravelry for awhile, get another beer, go have a smoke on the dock, consider walking the two hours to work tomorrow night just to see Amy, 'cause I love 'er, realize that I'm picking up the slang and accent already now that I have a job here, grab yet another beer, and then knit and knit until I decide to do something the fuck else. I should hang out with Crystal sometime, now that she's not working at Tristate anymore. I like that place, though, me and my penchant for sleazy jobs.
I love them. I love the people you meet and the things you can get away with. Ah. Work.
And let's make porn a standard item in my posts, cause Allier appreciated it, and I know I sure do...
7.9.08
i forgot i had this blog.
Wow. I have a blog that nobody reads.
That's kind of comforting to me, that none of my real-world friends read this, despite the fact that a few of them are aware of its existance. Though I guess I only assume that they don't read it because it's been so long since anybody has. Me included...
West Virginia is cool. It is VERY MUCH not Michigan. I made the kind of friend I needed, and now really, I only need one other kind of friend. You know, specifically. Regular friends are awesome, there were just two specific kinds of friends I was concerned with being able to find.
So far, so good. I might even have found them both. Hrm.
Graham is being really fucking sweet lately, doing adorable composite-chart stuff.
I'm getting sleepy, though, no matter how hard I try to stay awake and hope he'll text for awhile before he goes to work I had some treats after work [yay] and I got myself a beeeeeer, and now I'm fried, buzzed, stuffed full of barbeque chips and cereal and a hunk of cheese and music, and astrology, and some seriously provocative lines of thinking which I attribute to several things:
New Knitting Book Full o' Sleaze
The Buzz
Seriously Cute Boys
Lack of Sex
And, really, I mean. Well.
I'm just too tired. My back hurts from this chair, so staying awake further is not an option. Maybe like, a nap or so.
Here, have some porn. This is one of the things I sent to Graham on email-porn-to-phone night. This one was my favorite.
That's kind of comforting to me, that none of my real-world friends read this, despite the fact that a few of them are aware of its existance. Though I guess I only assume that they don't read it because it's been so long since anybody has. Me included...
West Virginia is cool. It is VERY MUCH not Michigan. I made the kind of friend I needed, and now really, I only need one other kind of friend. You know, specifically. Regular friends are awesome, there were just two specific kinds of friends I was concerned with being able to find.
So far, so good. I might even have found them both. Hrm.
Graham is being really fucking sweet lately, doing adorable composite-chart stuff.
I'm getting sleepy, though, no matter how hard I try to stay awake and hope he'll text for awhile before he goes to work I had some treats after work [yay] and I got myself a beeeeeer, and now I'm fried, buzzed, stuffed full of barbeque chips and cereal and a hunk of cheese and music, and astrology, and some seriously provocative lines of thinking which I attribute to several things:
New Knitting Book Full o' Sleaze
The Buzz
Seriously Cute Boys
Lack of Sex
And, really, I mean. Well.
I'm just too tired. My back hurts from this chair, so staying awake further is not an option. Maybe like, a nap or so.
Here, have some porn. This is one of the things I sent to Graham on email-porn-to-phone night. This one was my favorite.
29.8.08
For the Benefit of Traci-Face
Okay, Traci, here you go. The product of like, five or so blogs. I lost count, distracted by Graham emailing me a picture of his foot. Yeah. His foot. And the pharmacy where he works. Ugh.
***
[I wrote most of this in a state of travel-delirium. Please excuse anything that makes little to no sense, because I'm sure that at the time it made perfect sense to me]
So I'm on the bus. There is no connection so I'm not myspacey. The bus has literally nobody on it. There's an elderly couple, and a couple with a 5-6 year old, but they're both at the front and I'm in the middle. There's only the six of us and the driver. I'm caught between ambivalence and distress. Graham is texting me comforting things [namely generic talk coupled with excitement] and Heather showed up right before/after I boarded text-wise.
So. I'm moving. It's started. This is insane and just ridiculous, but it's also exactly right. I'm entirely positive that this is the right thing to do, but it's still weird for me, and man do I wish I could have a cigarette. This is insane. This whole bus-thing. This entire thing.
I dunno. Maybe it's not. Maybe it's entirely right, which is what I believe. I'm done with typing for now….
Now it is much later. I'm at the train station, and I couldn't possibly imagine a worse place to be spending tonight. Um. Okay, I could. But seriously. The train is TWO HOURS late—for now. When they told us first, back at Ann Arbor, it was only an hour late. Wtf? Ugh. So we all traipsed around, the only lot of people [and only twenty or so of us] at the station, hanging out, raiding the soda/snack/coffee machines, and I called both Nic and Heather. Somewhere in talking to Heather I got directions to a gas station for more cigarettes, and so I went. Obviously.
Everyone was a dick to me. I'm not kidding. People shouted worse things than they do in DETROIT. At the gas station, I watched the cashier be super sweet to several black customers, and then a complete bitch to me, ignoring everything conversational I said and pretty much just taking my money and ushering me out. The sidewalks are much cleaner here, though, I'll give 'em
that. And I got a pack of Camels and a huge coffee for $5.35. How cool is that?
Then I get back and there's some bitch and her kids sitting in my seat despite my luggage being there, and so now I'm stuck on the end of some cushion-oval thing. The MP3 player was alternating Deftones and Moonspell for quite a bit, serving only to make me pissed as fuck at everything, and I can't talk to Graham because he's talking to some friend about me. At length. I'm not kidding, it's been like an hour now, and I want to motherfucking know what he's saying. And I want to get high. I'm going to take the [Vicodin Missy gave me]. It's important that you understand that before I typed that bracketed part I realized that I had put the Vicodin in my Marlboros box. And that I'd smoked my last Marlboro on the way to buying my Camels. That I'd crushed the Marlboro box in my angry fist and thrown it on the sidewalk. So I shoved the laptop back in my purse and ran to that sidewalk with my coffee a-sloshing, through piles of yelling asshole boys and sprinklers that got me RIGHT IN THE FACE, and I found it, and I took that gorram pill and I chew/swallowed it as is my customary Vicodin practice. I like the acetaminophen taste, what can I say?
So this blows. At least one more hour until my train arrives. Ugh. The computer keeps telling me I have an Internet signal and then when I open a window it tells me I no longer have one. It's starting to really piss me off, but whatever. In a good ten minutes it won't matter.
And it is hot as hell here.
Though I have to say it's like the MP3 player knows my brain. Take a pill, it plays Coma White. Decide you're going to kill everyone you see, it plays I'm Afraid of Americans.
You know. In Toledo black people have been really mean to me tonight, but all the white people have themselves closed up with headphones and laptops. And the only not-white person who has been nice to me is a boy who reminds me of My Andy. He's super nice. I told him how to get to the gas station. I hope he sits near me on the train. Him and Emo-boy, who is probably not emo at all, but rather like me and gets assumed to be because he's got thick dark glasses and a sad and slightly confused look about him. He's also got the headphones/laptop thing going on, like the rest of us. Us. I think it's weird that I'm talking about an ethnicity as a unit, and I don't like it. All the black people, though, despite headphones and laptops and text messaging are interacting with one another, talking and trying to enjoy this two-plus hours of waiting and doom.
The rest of us, we seem to just like our misery and we like to have it alone.
Ah, Vicodin. The term "sweet release" comes to mind, and Missy, I love you for having given me this pill. Nervous breakdown, beer, bus, hangover, coffee, painkiller, that's been my day. As soon as the train starts moving I'm going to pass out, to awaken only for edibles and to tell Aunt Alice my train will be THREE HOURS late to Harpers Ferry. Motherfucker.
Ugh, awful, it was some GIRL grilling Graham about me. Now I have to be endlessly curious and also hate her a little bit. Pfff. I don't even want to write what Graham said she said. Mostly because I just want to so I can laugh about it with people, but I think Graham might like, I dunno, get self-conscious at how open I am about things to the General Public. Don't worry, Heather, I'll tell you.
Ok. So I can guarantee that I am the only person here listening to anything even remotely like what I've got in my ears. And that makes me happy. I like the slick change from Bowie to Green Day to Tori. I wish I had Gish-the entire thing-on this playlist, and I hate it that Heather's broke, for that is one sad affair. I mourn her loverly disc.
Heather, do you remember that time we laid on your bed after smoking all that Kind and just listened to what was it, Machina? And we just laid there for like, what, hours, and your Dad tried to hang out with us but we were all too stoned to realize he was making conversation, we just kind of wrote him off as acting like a Dad, which he was clearly trying really hard to not do… You know, now that we think about it. Oh man, good times.
Okay. In theory, the train should be here in like, half an hour or so. We'll see what happens. Motherfucker, I am bored. Fucking bored. At least Graham is back and at least there's the computer, which is my new Very Best In-Person Friend. I need a good computer name. I just have nothing at the moment. But if I'm going to personify it, it must have a human[ish] name. Too bad it has no legs, or I'd teach it to Silly Walk. Ah, silly walking.
Missy, holy crap, this pill is really kicking me well. It's the good thing about Vicodin, it's like it KNOWS when you need it most and it really exerts itself for you at those times. Heather, I know you know what I mean, and Nic and Andy I'm sure. The rest of you, I hope you do too, because that's the only explanation I have.
Um, okay. So my train that left at "midnight" should show up around two-thirty. Yeeeah. This is unpleasant and entirely un-okay, and I would be angry if I were sober. So there, Ohio. Fuck you.
Oh man, tonight is getting worse as it goes along. Though the train will be here soon enough, and I will get on it, and that will be okay. Graham is around again although it's late [he's been up drinking but I also think he just knows I need him to be around and talkative tonight, and he's also been saying for days now that I must tell him when I get on the train at the, like, exact moment, the weirdo], and Heather is around for texting when I stop typing here, and so that's all fabulous. FABULOUS. People are fucking lining up for the train that isn't even here yet. Crazy-ass people.
I have nothing to say except to ramble on about how much this blows. It really, really does blow, you know. If only the interwebs would work for more than thirty seconds at a time!
There are little shiny spots on the keys I use the most… That amuses me. My silly fingers, having oily finger oil bits on them. Leaving them places they've been as though they want everybody to know what they're typing.
Well. They do. You're reading this, aren't you?
Motherfucker! 2:30, no train. No more coffee, just Vicodin and computer and Graham text-wise. Which is how I always have him. Which is just fine. I know everybody likes to joke around about it and stuff, but really it is okay, it means I can use it as an excuse to keep boys away and it means I can talk to him fucking constantly, and that is fucking awesome. Aside from You Guys, Nic and Heather and Andy and the Mikes, he's the only one who can calm me down with rationality. I admit that I am completely flighty and irrational and nonsensical, and I don't usually respond well to sense and reason. Aaaaand, now he's going to sleeeeeep, I can't blame him, it's nearing 3 am and he usually isn't up this late. This sucks in an exponential sense. I could kill someone right now. Like, omg, I could just skull-fuck someone with a machete about now.
Well. Time to pack up. Everybody else is…
Okay. It's Sunday, eight-something am, and I am sore and tired. I slept intermittently for something like 2-3 hours. I used the train's excuse for a bathroom and nearly smashed both my elbows at the same time by sitting still. I paid 7 dollars for bad coffee, pre-scrambled eggs and cold hashbrowns. I met a very nice, well-to-do man who travels a lot [like, all over all countries] and was very softspoken and intelligent, with the kind of eyes that look sleepy but are definitely taking in every minute detail. I also met a woman, talkative and clearly a little wound up, and she told me all about her son enlisting at age 35 [!] and how they're sending him to Iraq at Christmas. She gave me a motion-sickness pill [hangover + no sleep + rocky train through Pennsylvania hill-side], and when breakfast was over she slipped me two more. What a sweetie. She's got something like five grandkids, so she must have just loved having someone to take care of, even just a little bit.
I just saw some awesome graffiti outside the Pittsburg station: "Fuck with people daily!"
Man. I'd love to have a cigarette, but I just don't think my not-quite-a-headache could handle it. Maybe I'll take a nap. Yeah. That's it.
Riding a train is like riding in a car and riding on a boat simultaneously.
Well. I DID take a nap there. I napped until noonish, and at some point they stopped the train in… Um. Cumberland, MD, and they let us get out and smoke. I met this really nice guy named Doug, and it was really funny when later I discovered that while I hadn't wanted to be like "oh, hey, that's my ex's name!" he had been thinking the exact same thing. Only his ex is that kind of dumb bitch who spells her name Stefanie. I think that just looks silly. Anyway. We hung out and played cards and talked about all sorts of things. He's in some train-conductor training program bit, and so he's heading up to Delaware for that. Thanks to the train being so late, he is probably still on a bus or just arriving only to be due in some important class at 8am. Sucks for him. But he was really super nice and if his friend from Wisconsin hadn't been asleep we'd have gotten a Euchre game together, but that's okay because my stop came before we'd have finished it. And he was a sweetie and didn't ask for my number or my email address and therefore I didn't have to lie to him that I was "seeing someone". I do really hate lying, and Graham likes to be all nonchalant about the fact that I'm doing it and that he wants me to do it and to keep doing it [though he'd never tell me to, I made that choice on my own, it just happened to be the one he likes], but the fact is that there has been NO seeing, no seeing at all even remotely. And my phone has like, zero signal at my Aunt's house. In a few angles it works okay, sitting in the right place on the ottoman or the outside coffee table. So now I can barely talk to him at all. Which sucks so much.
But it's gorgeous here. The mountains, the river, the buildings, the streets even. The air smells different, better. The outside nighttime noises are much louder and there are more of them as well. Driving down the road is like being on a roller coaster, there are hills and curves and just madness everywhere. Well. I'm passing out. So. Well. About time, eh?
Okay. It's nearing eleven am, and I am awake and currently filling myself with coffee. I came outside in hopes of improving phone signal, and found a despondent message from Graham, who is clearly sad at this lack of talking. That makes me simultaneously sad for him but pleased that he cares about talking to me enough to get sad when he can't. Hopefully this spurs the flesh-meeting, because eventually I can get a new phone that works better in mountainous countryside [he's suggested this prepaid thing that he uses where he bought unlimited texting], but until then I'm going to go crazy without him. Anyway. After this coffee marathon I'm going to set out calling all the job ads in the paper and then to muck around with my resume and HOPEFULLY my aunt has interwebs here that I can plug into so I can put up some profiles on various nanny-searching sites. For that would be neat. Find some rich-ass family looking for a live-in nanny, go live with them. Some of the ads were for full room and board "spacious accommodations", plus $1000/wk. Holy crap! Well. Even the daytime is louder here, the bugs are going crazy. I saw something that looked like a combination moth/hornet, and Joe [who is renting a room from my Aunt, the room next to mine AND the bathroom across from my room *shakes fist*] said that's totally normal, and yeah, they ARE huge aren't they?
I'm in mourning for my phone signal. I feel so cut off and remote and. And sooner or later that's really going to get to me. The people here are all really nice, though, everybody waves when you pass them or holds doors for you or chats with you in the grocery store, and they all talk about half as fast as I do—when I'm TRYING to speak slowly. Like, I know I talk fast, but when I talk at the speed the rest of you guys do [my slowdown speed, that is] they say "too fast, too fast, don't worry! We'll let you get to the end of your sentence!"
Um, okay, that bee is like the size of my pinky finger. Holy crap. Well. I should go getting to doing things, because I have forever to type and I am currently very busy and very curious. I get to organize my aunt's ENTIRE HOUSE and I am sooo excited!
***
it's very different here. everybody is so nice, and you get introduced to them and poof! it's like instantly you've been friends for twenty years. they make a lot of jokes, but not the funny mean sarcastic ones we make back home. like, silly little jokes you chuckle at but don't really laugh wholeheartedly. i much prefer the witty sarcasm of the northlands. you don't need to laugh at it because you're busy making your own witty sarcastic reply. i heart sarcasm.
but the scenery, oh man, that makes up for it. i can see maryland and virginia mountain-wise, across the river. the river is amazing. it's like. the neighbors told me it was "cold this summer" but it's way warmer than the chip, it was like taking a bath. when you jump in from the dock it's up to my chin [and that's onlylike, five feet out from shore], and omg. omg is is wonderful. you can see the current, and it's slow, and i am positive that if i felt so inclined i could swim across with no problems whatsoever. but, you know, then i'd be tired and i'd need to swim back.
ugh. well. you know, i'm fucking tired. i applied for some jobs today, woot. let's hope i get one of them for they are very very close to me. i mean that in relative terms, of course.
***
and so, more news. the job hunt continues. there's a place hiring servers, but it's a strip club and i can't work there AND live here, my aunt would positively kick me out on my ass. plus i know full well that they're mostly hiring just dancers, because i've seen like forty ads for them and only one ad for servers. and, um, yeah. i know, i know. not a good idea. i've been applying all over the place, and online a lot, and yadda yadda yadda on to more interesting things.
i learned today that when i am in the river i am in MARYLAND. no more west virginia. like, when i climb off the stairs onto the dock i am technically not in wv anymore. that is super neat. i got up today, and heard all sorts of bitching about how cold it was, saw people driving around outside in sweatshirts, and i put my swimsuit on and jumped in the river to a bunch of people going . they all thought i was going to get freaking hypothermia or something, but in actuality, it was still a little on the warm side.
but um, yeah, okay. i'm off now to apply for some more jobs: bank teller [the bank manager gave me her card so i can use her for a reference! how sweet!], grocery-store something or another, and more at the race track. woot!
***
So. Yesterday was fairly awful for various reasons. Bought cheese I was less than pleased with [like a cheap version of Black Diamond, only really I just wanted a smooth-textured sharp white cheddar, but it's crumbly and I hate that in a hard cheese], bought delicious looking crackers that I'm very not pleased with, I did lots of registering with different online job sites, etc. etc., went on a meandering journey alongside a rocky, curvy highway through brambles and other such nonsense to have a clear enough signal to talk to Graham, wound up texting awhile, dodging cars that were positively RACING down the hills, and getting really upset.
Came home with burrs in my clothes and hair, huge cut on my leg, in tears, pissed as fuck, and left him some sappy sad "I think you'll wind up hating me if I don't just leave you alone" message, and just turned on the tv and. Ugh. Constantine was on. So I mean, seriously.
Anyway. Had a really really amazing tarot reading after that, and then, out of nowhere, when my phone was proudly proclaiming its complete lack of signal, I got a very sweet urgent seeming text from Graham about having gotten my message and was I ok and so on and so forth [all of you understand that I'm just psychotic and every so often I think it's the motherfucking end of the world. I'm not sure if Graham hasn't learned yet that you can just leave me alone and I'll chill out or if he just cares enough to not like that it happens at all. So sweet.].
So then [it's like, midnight-thirty at this point] I threw on some shoes, ran outside, and proceeded to run up and down streets in and out of signal-areas, texting madly until like, two am.
Graham told me a lot of important stuff. I'm really even more interested with him now, even. I'm still anxious as fuck to talk to him, but things are much more awesome. I'm sure I'm going to run out to the end of the subdivision tonight to text him ridiculously again, whether he's there or not, just so I can know that I'm talking to him.
Gods, I'm such a GIRL.
Anyway. Then I went to sleep, woke up, and instantly the phone rang! Not 24-hours earlier I had created a profile on a nanny-finding website, and some wonderfully well-off doctor in Williamsburg, VA responded to my post. She's even only got one daughter and they live in some ritzy gated community with pools, tennis courts, and a golf course. I mean, holy fuck. Anyway, we talked for like an hour and she's going to call me back. I got an email from another family, and I'll call her tomorrow afternoon if I don't hear from Williamsburg lady. She'd have the easier job to offer me, with better pay and days off, as well as being closer to [fucking duh] Graham.
Speaking of Graham, I've started knitting him a tie, out of that yarn that I was making the lace sock out of before I frogged it. Then I went swimming, and set up my webcam stuff so I can talk to Odin, and now I'm going to go make sure my Aunt isn't trapped at the bottom of the ladder [that leads to the river] with her canoe. Then comes more Graham-knitting time and I think I'm going to just fucking veg with the TV. I have a few letters to finish [ok, only one letter, my letter to Heather, I have a letter to Andy to START], and hopefully soon my next package arrives, for it contains within it my envelopes and stamps.
Strange, mailing yourself stamps... Anyway, I'm away! What a fucking kickass day!!!
***
So. More days have passed here, rainy ones full of glorious gloom and streaming wind and lots of joyful things.
Things like a visit to a tiny library where I found an amazing and helpful Tarot book and discovering that even though Graham and I can't text due to my lack of signal, we can IM via yahoo messenger, and if he's not actually on messenger I can just send him an email and he receives it as a text message. And I can send him pictures, so I did. The cutesy one of Heather and Andy and me, and the one where I'm giving Andy a talking-to for the time he called Pat and went off about a certain something [photo by Heather], and um. I dunno. Oh yeah, the awesome one of the fan and my face at Heather's Dad's wedding.
I'm really only typing all of this while I'm working up the courage to call this lady who contacted me from a nanny site...
Anyway, shit is cool. I'm looking for a job and a car simultaneously, and that's neat I guess. Right now I'm slugging down the coffee and contemplating doing a load of laundry, or maybe just turning on some cartoons and slamming my brain inside that Tarot book again.
[a bit later] eeeee! I got the package I sent myself full of professional stuff, and I got a call from a job, only they called my cell phone and the call dropped. But I called back, so somebody should get ahold of me soonish I would think.
um, yeah, okay. i'm done here.
***
[I wrote most of this in a state of travel-delirium. Please excuse anything that makes little to no sense, because I'm sure that at the time it made perfect sense to me]
So I'm on the bus. There is no connection so I'm not myspacey. The bus has literally nobody on it. There's an elderly couple, and a couple with a 5-6 year old, but they're both at the front and I'm in the middle. There's only the six of us and the driver. I'm caught between ambivalence and distress. Graham is texting me comforting things [namely generic talk coupled with excitement] and Heather showed up right before/after I boarded text-wise.
So. I'm moving. It's started. This is insane and just ridiculous, but it's also exactly right. I'm entirely positive that this is the right thing to do, but it's still weird for me, and man do I wish I could have a cigarette. This is insane. This whole bus-thing. This entire thing.
I dunno. Maybe it's not. Maybe it's entirely right, which is what I believe. I'm done with typing for now….
Now it is much later. I'm at the train station, and I couldn't possibly imagine a worse place to be spending tonight. Um. Okay, I could. But seriously. The train is TWO HOURS late—for now. When they told us first, back at Ann Arbor, it was only an hour late. Wtf? Ugh. So we all traipsed around, the only lot of people [and only twenty or so of us] at the station, hanging out, raiding the soda/snack/coffee machines, and I called both Nic and Heather. Somewhere in talking to Heather I got directions to a gas station for more cigarettes, and so I went. Obviously.
Everyone was a dick to me. I'm not kidding. People shouted worse things than they do in DETROIT. At the gas station, I watched the cashier be super sweet to several black customers, and then a complete bitch to me, ignoring everything conversational I said and pretty much just taking my money and ushering me out. The sidewalks are much cleaner here, though, I'll give 'em
that. And I got a pack of Camels and a huge coffee for $5.35. How cool is that?
Then I get back and there's some bitch and her kids sitting in my seat despite my luggage being there, and so now I'm stuck on the end of some cushion-oval thing. The MP3 player was alternating Deftones and Moonspell for quite a bit, serving only to make me pissed as fuck at everything, and I can't talk to Graham because he's talking to some friend about me. At length. I'm not kidding, it's been like an hour now, and I want to motherfucking know what he's saying. And I want to get high. I'm going to take the [Vicodin Missy gave me]. It's important that you understand that before I typed that bracketed part I realized that I had put the Vicodin in my Marlboros box. And that I'd smoked my last Marlboro on the way to buying my Camels. That I'd crushed the Marlboro box in my angry fist and thrown it on the sidewalk. So I shoved the laptop back in my purse and ran to that sidewalk with my coffee a-sloshing, through piles of yelling asshole boys and sprinklers that got me RIGHT IN THE FACE, and I found it, and I took that gorram pill and I chew/swallowed it as is my customary Vicodin practice. I like the acetaminophen taste, what can I say?
So this blows. At least one more hour until my train arrives. Ugh. The computer keeps telling me I have an Internet signal and then when I open a window it tells me I no longer have one. It's starting to really piss me off, but whatever. In a good ten minutes it won't matter.
And it is hot as hell here.
Though I have to say it's like the MP3 player knows my brain. Take a pill, it plays Coma White. Decide you're going to kill everyone you see, it plays I'm Afraid of Americans.
You know. In Toledo black people have been really mean to me tonight, but all the white people have themselves closed up with headphones and laptops. And the only not-white person who has been nice to me is a boy who reminds me of My Andy. He's super nice. I told him how to get to the gas station. I hope he sits near me on the train. Him and Emo-boy, who is probably not emo at all, but rather like me and gets assumed to be because he's got thick dark glasses and a sad and slightly confused look about him. He's also got the headphones/laptop thing going on, like the rest of us. Us. I think it's weird that I'm talking about an ethnicity as a unit, and I don't like it. All the black people, though, despite headphones and laptops and text messaging are interacting with one another, talking and trying to enjoy this two-plus hours of waiting and doom.
The rest of us, we seem to just like our misery and we like to have it alone.
Ah, Vicodin. The term "sweet release" comes to mind, and Missy, I love you for having given me this pill. Nervous breakdown, beer, bus, hangover, coffee, painkiller, that's been my day. As soon as the train starts moving I'm going to pass out, to awaken only for edibles and to tell Aunt Alice my train will be THREE HOURS late to Harpers Ferry. Motherfucker.
Ugh, awful, it was some GIRL grilling Graham about me. Now I have to be endlessly curious and also hate her a little bit. Pfff. I don't even want to write what Graham said she said. Mostly because I just want to so I can laugh about it with people, but I think Graham might like, I dunno, get self-conscious at how open I am about things to the General Public. Don't worry, Heather, I'll tell you.
Ok. So I can guarantee that I am the only person here listening to anything even remotely like what I've got in my ears. And that makes me happy. I like the slick change from Bowie to Green Day to Tori. I wish I had Gish-the entire thing-on this playlist, and I hate it that Heather's broke, for that is one sad affair. I mourn her loverly disc.
Heather, do you remember that time we laid on your bed after smoking all that Kind and just listened to what was it, Machina? And we just laid there for like, what, hours, and your Dad tried to hang out with us but we were all too stoned to realize he was making conversation, we just kind of wrote him off as acting like a Dad, which he was clearly trying really hard to not do… You know, now that we think about it. Oh man, good times.
Okay. In theory, the train should be here in like, half an hour or so. We'll see what happens. Motherfucker, I am bored. Fucking bored. At least Graham is back and at least there's the computer, which is my new Very Best In-Person Friend. I need a good computer name. I just have nothing at the moment. But if I'm going to personify it, it must have a human[ish] name. Too bad it has no legs, or I'd teach it to Silly Walk. Ah, silly walking.
Missy, holy crap, this pill is really kicking me well. It's the good thing about Vicodin, it's like it KNOWS when you need it most and it really exerts itself for you at those times. Heather, I know you know what I mean, and Nic and Andy I'm sure. The rest of you, I hope you do too, because that's the only explanation I have.
Um, okay. So my train that left at "midnight" should show up around two-thirty. Yeeeah. This is unpleasant and entirely un-okay, and I would be angry if I were sober. So there, Ohio. Fuck you.
Oh man, tonight is getting worse as it goes along. Though the train will be here soon enough, and I will get on it, and that will be okay. Graham is around again although it's late [he's been up drinking but I also think he just knows I need him to be around and talkative tonight, and he's also been saying for days now that I must tell him when I get on the train at the, like, exact moment, the weirdo], and Heather is around for texting when I stop typing here, and so that's all fabulous. FABULOUS. People are fucking lining up for the train that isn't even here yet. Crazy-ass people.
I have nothing to say except to ramble on about how much this blows. It really, really does blow, you know. If only the interwebs would work for more than thirty seconds at a time!
There are little shiny spots on the keys I use the most… That amuses me. My silly fingers, having oily finger oil bits on them. Leaving them places they've been as though they want everybody to know what they're typing.
Well. They do. You're reading this, aren't you?
Motherfucker! 2:30, no train. No more coffee, just Vicodin and computer and Graham text-wise. Which is how I always have him. Which is just fine. I know everybody likes to joke around about it and stuff, but really it is okay, it means I can use it as an excuse to keep boys away and it means I can talk to him fucking constantly, and that is fucking awesome. Aside from You Guys, Nic and Heather and Andy and the Mikes, he's the only one who can calm me down with rationality. I admit that I am completely flighty and irrational and nonsensical, and I don't usually respond well to sense and reason. Aaaaand, now he's going to sleeeeeep, I can't blame him, it's nearing 3 am and he usually isn't up this late. This sucks in an exponential sense. I could kill someone right now. Like, omg, I could just skull-fuck someone with a machete about now.
Well. Time to pack up. Everybody else is…
Okay. It's Sunday, eight-something am, and I am sore and tired. I slept intermittently for something like 2-3 hours. I used the train's excuse for a bathroom and nearly smashed both my elbows at the same time by sitting still. I paid 7 dollars for bad coffee, pre-scrambled eggs and cold hashbrowns. I met a very nice, well-to-do man who travels a lot [like, all over all countries] and was very softspoken and intelligent, with the kind of eyes that look sleepy but are definitely taking in every minute detail. I also met a woman, talkative and clearly a little wound up, and she told me all about her son enlisting at age 35 [!] and how they're sending him to Iraq at Christmas. She gave me a motion-sickness pill [hangover + no sleep + rocky train through Pennsylvania hill-side], and when breakfast was over she slipped me two more. What a sweetie. She's got something like five grandkids, so she must have just loved having someone to take care of, even just a little bit.
I just saw some awesome graffiti outside the Pittsburg station: "Fuck with people daily!"
Man. I'd love to have a cigarette, but I just don't think my not-quite-a-headache could handle it. Maybe I'll take a nap. Yeah. That's it.
Riding a train is like riding in a car and riding on a boat simultaneously.
Well. I DID take a nap there. I napped until noonish, and at some point they stopped the train in… Um. Cumberland, MD, and they let us get out and smoke. I met this really nice guy named Doug, and it was really funny when later I discovered that while I hadn't wanted to be like "oh, hey, that's my ex's name!" he had been thinking the exact same thing. Only his ex is that kind of dumb bitch who spells her name Stefanie. I think that just looks silly. Anyway. We hung out and played cards and talked about all sorts of things. He's in some train-conductor training program bit, and so he's heading up to Delaware for that. Thanks to the train being so late, he is probably still on a bus or just arriving only to be due in some important class at 8am. Sucks for him. But he was really super nice and if his friend from Wisconsin hadn't been asleep we'd have gotten a Euchre game together, but that's okay because my stop came before we'd have finished it. And he was a sweetie and didn't ask for my number or my email address and therefore I didn't have to lie to him that I was "seeing someone". I do really hate lying, and Graham likes to be all nonchalant about the fact that I'm doing it and that he wants me to do it and to keep doing it [though he'd never tell me to, I made that choice on my own, it just happened to be the one he likes], but the fact is that there has been NO seeing, no seeing at all even remotely. And my phone has like, zero signal at my Aunt's house. In a few angles it works okay, sitting in the right place on the ottoman or the outside coffee table. So now I can barely talk to him at all. Which sucks so much.
But it's gorgeous here. The mountains, the river, the buildings, the streets even. The air smells different, better. The outside nighttime noises are much louder and there are more of them as well. Driving down the road is like being on a roller coaster, there are hills and curves and just madness everywhere. Well. I'm passing out. So. Well. About time, eh?
Okay. It's nearing eleven am, and I am awake and currently filling myself with coffee. I came outside in hopes of improving phone signal, and found a despondent message from Graham, who is clearly sad at this lack of talking. That makes me simultaneously sad for him but pleased that he cares about talking to me enough to get sad when he can't. Hopefully this spurs the flesh-meeting, because eventually I can get a new phone that works better in mountainous countryside [he's suggested this prepaid thing that he uses where he bought unlimited texting], but until then I'm going to go crazy without him. Anyway. After this coffee marathon I'm going to set out calling all the job ads in the paper and then to muck around with my resume and HOPEFULLY my aunt has interwebs here that I can plug into so I can put up some profiles on various nanny-searching sites. For that would be neat. Find some rich-ass family looking for a live-in nanny, go live with them. Some of the ads were for full room and board "spacious accommodations", plus $1000/wk. Holy crap! Well. Even the daytime is louder here, the bugs are going crazy. I saw something that looked like a combination moth/hornet, and Joe [who is renting a room from my Aunt, the room next to mine AND the bathroom across from my room *shakes fist*] said that's totally normal, and yeah, they ARE huge aren't they?
I'm in mourning for my phone signal. I feel so cut off and remote and. And sooner or later that's really going to get to me. The people here are all really nice, though, everybody waves when you pass them or holds doors for you or chats with you in the grocery store, and they all talk about half as fast as I do—when I'm TRYING to speak slowly. Like, I know I talk fast, but when I talk at the speed the rest of you guys do [my slowdown speed, that is] they say "too fast, too fast, don't worry! We'll let you get to the end of your sentence!"
Um, okay, that bee is like the size of my pinky finger. Holy crap. Well. I should go getting to doing things, because I have forever to type and I am currently very busy and very curious. I get to organize my aunt's ENTIRE HOUSE and I am sooo excited!
***
it's very different here. everybody is so nice, and you get introduced to them and poof! it's like instantly you've been friends for twenty years. they make a lot of jokes, but not the funny mean sarcastic ones we make back home. like, silly little jokes you chuckle at but don't really laugh wholeheartedly. i much prefer the witty sarcasm of the northlands. you don't need to laugh at it because you're busy making your own witty sarcastic reply. i heart sarcasm.
but the scenery, oh man, that makes up for it. i can see maryland and virginia mountain-wise, across the river. the river is amazing. it's like. the neighbors told me it was "cold this summer" but it's way warmer than the chip, it was like taking a bath. when you jump in from the dock it's up to my chin [and that's onlylike, five feet out from shore], and omg. omg is is wonderful. you can see the current, and it's slow, and i am positive that if i felt so inclined i could swim across with no problems whatsoever. but, you know, then i'd be tired and i'd need to swim back.
ugh. well. you know, i'm fucking tired. i applied for some jobs today, woot. let's hope i get one of them for they are very very close to me. i mean that in relative terms, of course.
***
and so, more news. the job hunt continues. there's a place hiring servers, but it's a strip club and i can't work there AND live here, my aunt would positively kick me out on my ass. plus i know full well that they're mostly hiring just dancers, because i've seen like forty ads for them and only one ad for servers. and, um, yeah. i know, i know. not a good idea. i've been applying all over the place, and online a lot, and yadda yadda yadda on to more interesting things.
i learned today that when i am in the river i am in MARYLAND. no more west virginia. like, when i climb off the stairs onto the dock i am technically not in wv anymore. that is super neat. i got up today, and heard all sorts of bitching about how cold it was, saw people driving around outside in sweatshirts, and i put my swimsuit on and jumped in the river to a bunch of people going . they all thought i was going to get freaking hypothermia or something, but in actuality, it was still a little on the warm side.
but um, yeah, okay. i'm off now to apply for some more jobs: bank teller [the bank manager gave me her card so i can use her for a reference! how sweet!], grocery-store something or another, and more at the race track. woot!
***
So. Yesterday was fairly awful for various reasons. Bought cheese I was less than pleased with [like a cheap version of Black Diamond, only really I just wanted a smooth-textured sharp white cheddar, but it's crumbly and I hate that in a hard cheese], bought delicious looking crackers that I'm very not pleased with, I did lots of registering with different online job sites, etc. etc., went on a meandering journey alongside a rocky, curvy highway through brambles and other such nonsense to have a clear enough signal to talk to Graham, wound up texting awhile, dodging cars that were positively RACING down the hills, and getting really upset.
Came home with burrs in my clothes and hair, huge cut on my leg, in tears, pissed as fuck, and left him some sappy sad "I think you'll wind up hating me if I don't just leave you alone" message, and just turned on the tv and. Ugh. Constantine was on. So I mean, seriously.
Anyway. Had a really really amazing tarot reading after that, and then, out of nowhere, when my phone was proudly proclaiming its complete lack of signal, I got a very sweet urgent seeming text from Graham about having gotten my message and was I ok and so on and so forth [all of you understand that I'm just psychotic and every so often I think it's the motherfucking end of the world. I'm not sure if Graham hasn't learned yet that you can just leave me alone and I'll chill out or if he just cares enough to not like that it happens at all. So sweet.].
So then [it's like, midnight-thirty at this point] I threw on some shoes, ran outside, and proceeded to run up and down streets in and out of signal-areas, texting madly until like, two am.
Graham told me a lot of important stuff. I'm really even more interested with him now, even. I'm still anxious as fuck to talk to him, but things are much more awesome. I'm sure I'm going to run out to the end of the subdivision tonight to text him ridiculously again, whether he's there or not, just so I can know that I'm talking to him.
Gods, I'm such a GIRL.
Anyway. Then I went to sleep, woke up, and instantly the phone rang! Not 24-hours earlier I had created a profile on a nanny-finding website, and some wonderfully well-off doctor in Williamsburg, VA responded to my post. She's even only got one daughter and they live in some ritzy gated community with pools, tennis courts, and a golf course. I mean, holy fuck. Anyway, we talked for like an hour and she's going to call me back. I got an email from another family, and I'll call her tomorrow afternoon if I don't hear from Williamsburg lady. She'd have the easier job to offer me, with better pay and days off, as well as being closer to [fucking duh] Graham.
Speaking of Graham, I've started knitting him a tie, out of that yarn that I was making the lace sock out of before I frogged it. Then I went swimming, and set up my webcam stuff so I can talk to Odin, and now I'm going to go make sure my Aunt isn't trapped at the bottom of the ladder [that leads to the river] with her canoe. Then comes more Graham-knitting time and I think I'm going to just fucking veg with the TV. I have a few letters to finish [ok, only one letter, my letter to Heather, I have a letter to Andy to START], and hopefully soon my next package arrives, for it contains within it my envelopes and stamps.
Strange, mailing yourself stamps... Anyway, I'm away! What a fucking kickass day!!!
***
So. More days have passed here, rainy ones full of glorious gloom and streaming wind and lots of joyful things.
Things like a visit to a tiny library where I found an amazing and helpful Tarot book and discovering that even though Graham and I can't text due to my lack of signal, we can IM via yahoo messenger, and if he's not actually on messenger I can just send him an email and he receives it as a text message. And I can send him pictures, so I did. The cutesy one of Heather and Andy and me, and the one where I'm giving Andy a talking-to for the time he called Pat and went off about a certain something [photo by Heather], and um. I dunno. Oh yeah, the awesome one of the fan and my face at Heather's Dad's wedding.
I'm really only typing all of this while I'm working up the courage to call this lady who contacted me from a nanny site...
Anyway, shit is cool. I'm looking for a job and a car simultaneously, and that's neat I guess. Right now I'm slugging down the coffee and contemplating doing a load of laundry, or maybe just turning on some cartoons and slamming my brain inside that Tarot book again.
[a bit later] eeeee! I got the package I sent myself full of professional stuff, and I got a call from a job, only they called my cell phone and the call dropped. But I called back, so somebody should get ahold of me soonish I would think.
um, yeah, okay. i'm done here.
29.11.07
well.
i move into my apartment on december 4th.
so i'm around here, updating all my interwebby bits, for soon i shall only be online at random friends' houses and the like.
but that's okay, because i finally get out.
other things to do include finding daycare in mt. pleasant [no more of that christian-lady for me, despite how viciously nice they were, that's just not my thing], hopefully that you can pay by the hour and not by the day, also finding out how exactly to make biolife appointments since they dont' take them by phone anyway, and applying for various third-shift positions, preferably not in fast food as that shall only propagate the eating of such foodstuffs and also will slightly ruin the fact that i've sufficiently gotten AWAY from that.
anyway.
i'm gonna go read up on everybody else's blogs nooow, and then do some doom-laundry. and watch Outlaw Star.
so i'm around here, updating all my interwebby bits, for soon i shall only be online at random friends' houses and the like.
but that's okay, because i finally get out.
other things to do include finding daycare in mt. pleasant [no more of that christian-lady for me, despite how viciously nice they were, that's just not my thing], hopefully that you can pay by the hour and not by the day, also finding out how exactly to make biolife appointments since they dont' take them by phone anyway, and applying for various third-shift positions, preferably not in fast food as that shall only propagate the eating of such foodstuffs and also will slightly ruin the fact that i've sufficiently gotten AWAY from that.
anyway.
i'm gonna go read up on everybody else's blogs nooow, and then do some doom-laundry. and watch Outlaw Star.
22.11.07
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