Dreamt I was working for WWE. Trips and Steph personall recruited me, and by the end trips and steph turned into J&T.
Trips was holding me close and kept wanting me closer. Very protective and dead sexy. Steph was nice as could be and spoke with Lynne about me leaving that job.
It was fantastic.
Sunday, September 29, 2013
Saturday, September 28, 2013
11:00p
And this is why you keep tabs on certain people. In my case, an old acquaintance from h.s.
Today I am feeling down, that I am not doing enough. That I am lazy, alone, but even when I'm not alone I would rather be alone. I am polar and contrary in an un-iconoclastic, thus uncool way. Uncool is a real word?
Anywho. I just went and checked up on this acq.'s blog and her most recent post addresses exactly my feelings of stagnation. That it's not really stagnation if you get out of your own skin a minute. I got tears. And I am reminded of my personal assurance that she was some overdramatic kook and I was the true blue, legit English student and writer. Sure, she was animated and overzealous and probably annoying. But I was an hypercritical, self-indulgent teen. Unlike the current self-indulgent, doubtful mid-20s version.
What I can extrapolate is: I'm definitely procrastinating, but procrastination does not a failure make. Gotta give myself a chance to breathe for Christ sakes.
Today I am feeling down, that I am not doing enough. That I am lazy, alone, but even when I'm not alone I would rather be alone. I am polar and contrary in an un-iconoclastic, thus uncool way. Uncool is a real word?
Anywho. I just went and checked up on this acq.'s blog and her most recent post addresses exactly my feelings of stagnation. That it's not really stagnation if you get out of your own skin a minute. I got tears. And I am reminded of my personal assurance that she was some overdramatic kook and I was the true blue, legit English student and writer. Sure, she was animated and overzealous and probably annoying. But I was an hypercritical, self-indulgent teen. Unlike the current self-indulgent, doubtful mid-20s version.
What I can extrapolate is: I'm definitely procrastinating, but procrastination does not a failure make. Gotta give myself a chance to breathe for Christ sakes.
9:31am
Had a date last night with "Davis". The afterward was more nervewracking than the beforehand. He was kind and funny and relaxed and I appreciated getting to know him. But was there a spark? Flirtation? No.
But who knows. You can't foretell what will happen between people. Maybe we will see each other again. Maybe never. But it was a good night and it got me out of my comfort zone.
However. It reinforced some (perhaps erroneous) notions I have about myself and my nature as a potential partner. I am a lot going on in one person. I am intimidating. In a non-Robert Mitchum, non-Hulk type of way. I am everywhere in my head. I can be mercurial. I can be calm. Inquisitive. Quiet. Angry. I am a full-fledged person. I don't always feel like a woman. I don't like to initiate flirting or girly stuff. I find it unseemly. I can be wooed into it, but I never begin. Tiger by the tail, fellas. Maybe I'm building myself up, but on a small pond scale, I don't think I am. I think I scare most men. Especially men my age range. I'm more adversarial. I have lines and checkpoints. And I do not care that I am not pleasant, gentle, a wisp of femininity. That is kept safely inward and emerges once the hardness is balanced and addressed. Hardness? Edge. Adversary. Whatever it is. The hard shell guarding the mallow center.
So I'm a candy now! Psh.
I can be affected by what other people think of me. However. Take this. 'This' could be anything. I can do this, I'm gonna do it my way, and if you get in front of it I'll run your ass over. The end.
I would say my flirtatious approach is, you're gonna fucking notice me. Ha! How endearing!
But who knows. You can't foretell what will happen between people. Maybe we will see each other again. Maybe never. But it was a good night and it got me out of my comfort zone.
However. It reinforced some (perhaps erroneous) notions I have about myself and my nature as a potential partner. I am a lot going on in one person. I am intimidating. In a non-Robert Mitchum, non-Hulk type of way. I am everywhere in my head. I can be mercurial. I can be calm. Inquisitive. Quiet. Angry. I am a full-fledged person. I don't always feel like a woman. I don't like to initiate flirting or girly stuff. I find it unseemly. I can be wooed into it, but I never begin. Tiger by the tail, fellas. Maybe I'm building myself up, but on a small pond scale, I don't think I am. I think I scare most men. Especially men my age range. I'm more adversarial. I have lines and checkpoints. And I do not care that I am not pleasant, gentle, a wisp of femininity. That is kept safely inward and emerges once the hardness is balanced and addressed. Hardness? Edge. Adversary. Whatever it is. The hard shell guarding the mallow center.
So I'm a candy now! Psh.
I can be affected by what other people think of me. However. Take this. 'This' could be anything. I can do this, I'm gonna do it my way, and if you get in front of it I'll run your ass over. The end.
I would say my flirtatious approach is, you're gonna fucking notice me. Ha! How endearing!
Friday, September 27, 2013
10:38am
none·such
ˈnənˌsəCH/
noun1.
a person or thing that is regarded as perfect or excellent.
2.
another term for black medick (see medick).
- (courtesy google.com)
Thursday, September 26, 2013
11:29p
There was a white chrysler in front of me. On its right butt cheek, there used to be a Christian fish. (Ichthys, yes?) What's remaining is like a scorch mark. A dark outline. It used to be, and now? Did someone swipe it? Did it fall? Did some prankster affix it to honk off their righteous, atheist Chrysler buddy? Muslim? Jewish? Jainist? Did the owner remove it? Which possibility appeals to you? You. I like them all. Think of the film, 'Clue', and the alternate culprits. Each entertain.
This is why the fantasy car in my mind is dark. Except for the pearl grey Jaguar Roadster. Dark to hide the fact that I don't often clean my vehicles, but also to engulf such a stain as this Ichthys. Because whatever the origin, it is no longer, and that starts a conversation. (Who needs that.) Knowing drivers these days, someone could get out at a red light, come up and ask you. If I were any kind of honorable black hat, I would grasp the ledge of the driver's side window, L-O-V-E & H-A-T-E on my knuckles, and speak like a well-oiled mahogany. I would canter and paraphrase some smokescreen of bourgeois clichés, and then hit them with the eye. Where has your fish run? What do you think of that.
This is why the fantasy car in my mind is dark. Except for the pearl grey Jaguar Roadster. Dark to hide the fact that I don't often clean my vehicles, but also to engulf such a stain as this Ichthys. Because whatever the origin, it is no longer, and that starts a conversation. (Who needs that.) Knowing drivers these days, someone could get out at a red light, come up and ask you. If I were any kind of honorable black hat, I would grasp the ledge of the driver's side window, L-O-V-E & H-A-T-E on my knuckles, and speak like a well-oiled mahogany. I would canter and paraphrase some smokescreen of bourgeois clichés, and then hit them with the eye. Where has your fish run? What do you think of that.
No call, No Show 2:04p
I was thinking about one spectacular date I went on last fall.
The gent: childhood ubercrush of one of my best friends. Name of Charlie. Where we met: serendipitously at Ronnie's Road House. My aforementioned BFF and I went out to this club for some cocktails and buddy time. I had the misfortune of believing what I read, assuming the place was a road house. Casual attire, relaxed atmosphere, perhaps mechanical bull (if I was lucky). Well, yes to the bull, and that was all. Skimpy chicks dancing to Beyonce on the bars (four throughout the club), laser lights everywhere, greaseball guys as far as one could see in a dim environment.
The back story on this was I showed up in jeans and my favorite lumpy, oversized sweater. TJ-Maxx, baby. Lucky for me I hate the bar-hook-up scene, and I'd rather be comfortable than sexified.
Anyway, we bump into Charlie and I hit it off with him immediately. Shockingly. Chemistry all over the place. We sat and talked for hours. We hugged deeply. We traded numbers. Holy smoke, was this my life? My memory? Oui Oui, c'est me. Plus: tall, blond (not usually my type, but), the eyes. Adorable-boyish. Again, usually looking for a manly man face of stone type... but. Sometimes, a type is best forgotten.
The next week we had a date for a movie, "Take Shelter", at the Glen Art Theater (neato local theater with low ticket prices, and a cavalier attitude about sneaking in your own bottle of merlot). His friends met us there, they were nice enough and I didn't mind the airbag. We sat in the theater and Charlie produced two glasses out of deceptively deep pockets and poured me some wine. The film spread across the room and within moments I said, "this is going to be great." There was some casual, experimental leg nudging, sharing of the arm rest, perfect for my grandma speed of romance. We spoke cutely during the movie, giggle here, smile there. At the end we talked outside the theater with his friends and drove him home. I told him, "I had a really great time, Charlie." I think he did too.
I never heard from him again. I texted him probably twice too many, asked my BFF, she asked her pal that is Charlie's BFF. The only intel I received was that Charlie "just got out of a serious relationship. He really liked you and it probably scared him." Hmm. The hip adage unfortunately applies: He's just not that into you.
What fascinates, to this day, is why he didn't say all this? Some plead youth: young people have trouble being forthright with their feelings. Some plead gender: guys are raised not to honestly disclose their feelings because feelings are "weak", "feminine", "faggy", fill in the blank of otherwise unsavory labels to a caveman mentality. Maybe he was embarrassed? But, is embarrassment that frightening? After one date? Hmm.
The gent: childhood ubercrush of one of my best friends. Name of Charlie. Where we met: serendipitously at Ronnie's Road House. My aforementioned BFF and I went out to this club for some cocktails and buddy time. I had the misfortune of believing what I read, assuming the place was a road house. Casual attire, relaxed atmosphere, perhaps mechanical bull (if I was lucky). Well, yes to the bull, and that was all. Skimpy chicks dancing to Beyonce on the bars (four throughout the club), laser lights everywhere, greaseball guys as far as one could see in a dim environment.
The back story on this was I showed up in jeans and my favorite lumpy, oversized sweater. TJ-Maxx, baby. Lucky for me I hate the bar-hook-up scene, and I'd rather be comfortable than sexified.
Anyway, we bump into Charlie and I hit it off with him immediately. Shockingly. Chemistry all over the place. We sat and talked for hours. We hugged deeply. We traded numbers. Holy smoke, was this my life? My memory? Oui Oui, c'est me. Plus: tall, blond (not usually my type, but), the eyes. Adorable-boyish. Again, usually looking for a manly man face of stone type... but. Sometimes, a type is best forgotten.
The next week we had a date for a movie, "Take Shelter", at the Glen Art Theater (neato local theater with low ticket prices, and a cavalier attitude about sneaking in your own bottle of merlot). His friends met us there, they were nice enough and I didn't mind the airbag. We sat in the theater and Charlie produced two glasses out of deceptively deep pockets and poured me some wine. The film spread across the room and within moments I said, "this is going to be great." There was some casual, experimental leg nudging, sharing of the arm rest, perfect for my grandma speed of romance. We spoke cutely during the movie, giggle here, smile there. At the end we talked outside the theater with his friends and drove him home. I told him, "I had a really great time, Charlie." I think he did too.
I never heard from him again. I texted him probably twice too many, asked my BFF, she asked her pal that is Charlie's BFF. The only intel I received was that Charlie "just got out of a serious relationship. He really liked you and it probably scared him." Hmm. The hip adage unfortunately applies: He's just not that into you.
What fascinates, to this day, is why he didn't say all this? Some plead youth: young people have trouble being forthright with their feelings. Some plead gender: guys are raised not to honestly disclose their feelings because feelings are "weak", "feminine", "faggy", fill in the blank of otherwise unsavory labels to a caveman mentality. Maybe he was embarrassed? But, is embarrassment that frightening? After one date? Hmm.
Wednesday, September 18, 2013
3:58p
THIS IS WHAT MAKES US GIRLS
don't cry about it, don't cry about it
The same thing for languid weeks. The doe pursuing me in disguise, in reverse.
don't cry about it, don't cry about it
The same thing for languid weeks. The doe pursuing me in disguise, in reverse.
Tuesday, September 17, 2013
5:25p
I'm hunting a doe. It's night. I am alone. The only human soul in the woods.
She is illuminated. She is tawny. I only see her in profile. The trunks chop and sheath her from full view. A leg. The slope of her belly: a relaxed, inverted S.
There are frogs. Other deer. Ruminant mammals. But I am so focused. I know a doe so well, but this one. I have to get a look at her. I have to see how she.
I look for cornflower. Cornflower eyes. But that's not right.
I try to nap to get back there, to come to the end. But it's only at night, in my bed, with no great ceremony. Always a curious wait.
She is steady ahead of me. She doesn't run off. Twenty yards. She is the peach color of cartoon skin, tonight. My daughter watching the glass slipper approach. Rewind. The strings swell. Rewind. The glint and transparency; at last!
She is illuminated. She is tawny. I only see her in profile. The trunks chop and sheath her from full view. A leg. The slope of her belly: a relaxed, inverted S.
There are frogs. Other deer. Ruminant mammals. But I am so focused. I know a doe so well, but this one. I have to get a look at her. I have to see how she.
I look for cornflower. Cornflower eyes. But that's not right.
I try to nap to get back there, to come to the end. But it's only at night, in my bed, with no great ceremony. Always a curious wait.
She is steady ahead of me. She doesn't run off. Twenty yards. She is the peach color of cartoon skin, tonight. My daughter watching the glass slipper approach. Rewind. The strings swell. Rewind. The glint and transparency; at last!
Monday, September 16, 2013
Saturday, September 14, 2013
10:53a
I just want to go home. I want to go to bed. I want to sleep it all off and hide.
Whenever I think of love or romance, I feel shame and embarrassment. I feel that myself in any romantic environment is laughable and silly. Awkward. Pathetic. Ridiculous. I should be ridiculed. I should be laughed at and ashamed. What a pathetic, flabby baby. I'm silly and I should be laughed at. I should be hurt and crying. I deserve those things. I deserve all of it.
What a ridiculous fucking pig I turned out to be. Unkind, afraid, lazy, washed up and a loser. A loser at 24. Just goes to show you! I'm a liar, a cheat, a brownnoser, a phony, a tattle-tale, cold, selfish, self-indulgent.
Whenever I think of love or romance, I feel shame and embarrassment. I feel that myself in any romantic environment is laughable and silly. Awkward. Pathetic. Ridiculous. I should be ridiculed. I should be laughed at and ashamed. What a pathetic, flabby baby. I'm silly and I should be laughed at. I should be hurt and crying. I deserve those things. I deserve all of it.
What a ridiculous fucking pig I turned out to be. Unkind, afraid, lazy, washed up and a loser. A loser at 24. Just goes to show you! I'm a liar, a cheat, a brownnoser, a phony, a tattle-tale, cold, selfish, self-indulgent.
Friday, September 13, 2013
11:25am
I am angry. And it's all right.
Let's break it down. EO. That name/face/recognition of all stripes instantly prompts me to be angry and uncomfortable. Jittery? Frazzled.
She was involved in that group, and she adored and praised and supported and stoked all their egos. She stoked egos. That's a peeve.
She cheered me on in doing something I consider dishonest and at the very least, was a crappy friend move against her soul brother SSC. But is it just her association with that whole mess? Is it my anger at myself manifesting and redirecting toward her? Could be.
I am jealous at her prowess in the dept. I am jealous that she was beloved and revered. Or did it just appear so?
I disdain her for appearing so worldly, loving and wise when those she surrounded herself with her a bunch of fatuous bozos, shoulder-chipped children angling for a reputation.
I loathed all the slobbery praise going around in a massive, lazy circle jerk.
I wished she would see the good in me and take my side. I wanted a comrade, even though I knew she was not the one.
I hated being ganged up on. I hated that she was the loving one and the kind one and I didn't qualify. I hated that she enabled or accepted what was going on. It really wasn't her responsibility to stop it, but it blew me away that she accepted it. It didn't make sense.
These are all emotional and passive misdemeanors at best. This is not a whole lot to go on considering this happened in college, and hey! Look at how I was in college. Nonetheless, she's a trace. A reminder of that time in my life and the anguish I was working out. I am still working it out.
I am just angry today. Hypocrites and liars. I feel tubby. Sciatica(?) hurts. Clothes, meh. IM not responding and putting me in a shitbag position. Fucking tired of family bull shit. Lonely. Lazy. Anger at spiritual life vs. nothing. Thinking a lot about Mom dying.
Let's break it down. EO. That name/face/recognition of all stripes instantly prompts me to be angry and uncomfortable. Jittery? Frazzled.
She was involved in that group, and she adored and praised and supported and stoked all their egos. She stoked egos. That's a peeve.
She cheered me on in doing something I consider dishonest and at the very least, was a crappy friend move against her soul brother SSC. But is it just her association with that whole mess? Is it my anger at myself manifesting and redirecting toward her? Could be.
I am jealous at her prowess in the dept. I am jealous that she was beloved and revered. Or did it just appear so?
I disdain her for appearing so worldly, loving and wise when those she surrounded herself with her a bunch of fatuous bozos, shoulder-chipped children angling for a reputation.
I loathed all the slobbery praise going around in a massive, lazy circle jerk.
I wished she would see the good in me and take my side. I wanted a comrade, even though I knew she was not the one.
I hated being ganged up on. I hated that she was the loving one and the kind one and I didn't qualify. I hated that she enabled or accepted what was going on. It really wasn't her responsibility to stop it, but it blew me away that she accepted it. It didn't make sense.
These are all emotional and passive misdemeanors at best. This is not a whole lot to go on considering this happened in college, and hey! Look at how I was in college. Nonetheless, she's a trace. A reminder of that time in my life and the anguish I was working out. I am still working it out.
I am just angry today. Hypocrites and liars. I feel tubby. Sciatica(?) hurts. Clothes, meh. IM not responding and putting me in a shitbag position. Fucking tired of family bull shit. Lonely. Lazy. Anger at spiritual life vs. nothing. Thinking a lot about Mom dying.
Wednesday, September 11, 2013
11:06p
9.11.13
Mom and I cried about the family.
Constant thoughts of losing Mom. I tear up every time I get two seconds in.
Calling Aunt Jo tmm to tell her I will watch Grandma for her.
Senior got his amputation.
I want to write: I saw a haggard man handwash his white jeep on my break. I turned my head and saw an unrelated haggard woman in her car (running) with a sermon turned up, hands together, eyes closed, praying in earnest. I was behind a white sedan with a sticker on its tail, "find your happy place". Aggie zoomed by me on the right in her white chariot.
I don't want my mom to die. I cannot live without her. Yes, this is awk and stalk. But I can't see my life going on without her in it. I can't live in a world where she is not.
Mom and I cried about the family.
Constant thoughts of losing Mom. I tear up every time I get two seconds in.
Calling Aunt Jo tmm to tell her I will watch Grandma for her.
Senior got his amputation.
I want to write: I saw a haggard man handwash his white jeep on my break. I turned my head and saw an unrelated haggard woman in her car (running) with a sermon turned up, hands together, eyes closed, praying in earnest. I was behind a white sedan with a sticker on its tail, "find your happy place". Aggie zoomed by me on the right in her white chariot.
I don't want my mom to die. I cannot live without her. Yes, this is awk and stalk. But I can't see my life going on without her in it. I can't live in a world where she is not.
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