Selfish Cliches

What happened is fitting, really. I've been trying to better myself emotionally and physically without becoming self absorbed or overly selfish. It's a tough call sometimes. Now, I totally understand people who have kids and they have virtually no time outside the kids let alone time with their spouse or themselves. I have so much time to myself that I don't know what to do so I get stoned. Well, now that we have removed one vice the third less active vice gets to step up (#1 food, #2 pot, #3 sex). The cig vice removal has led way to a new confidence and more productive side to me that I thought lay dormant. I can be quite productive. This new level is allowing me to forget important dates even though I was thinking about it every day until 3 days before because some fucking friend had issues that distracted me. No excuses. I can't fucking believe I forgot my brother's 40th birthday. I am a terrible sibling, but we're all terrible. We rarely talk on the phone. The brother that turned 40, Matt, and I get along really well. We talk more than either of us talk to our other sister and brother. I feel terrible and to add insult, I ordered him Allen Carr's Easy Way to get him going on the next course of his life. It didn't seem righteous sending him the book then, but now it seems just a touch on the preachy side. Oh well, he can throw the book at me later. I hope he takes it as good intent and not me soapboxing out on him. In light of the change in my attitude, lifestyle, and healing process, I was able to handle something that would have probably been a blow not too long ago. The last 3 years has been witness to a long distance affair. I wish it had been a little more romantic, but that may have complicated it even more. The cost stars were his girlfriend and my low self esteem. My bad for continuing from my end as I made it clear that what was happening was morally unacceptable, but it didn't seem that much of a concern for him at the time. Well, this week, it matters. As strangely dissappointed I am about the rejection, and pissed off about the one sided sexual acts (and I worked pretty hard for him), I'm proud of him and hope that I find a man who has reached the morality level that he may have since experiencing this change. It was very selfish of him to take advantage of me, but I let him do it. I should have ended it a long time ago, but I felt like at least I had him wanting me. So sad to feel that way about someone who has been more selfish about it all along. Oh, he made sure that I climaxed, if I could participate, I made sure that I wouldn't fake it, because that is something else I won't do and of course I tried to get him off as well (sometimes even when I couldn't participate). Fitting because I forgot my brother's fn 40th birthday and I got fucked and "dumped" (quotes because it really wasn't a dumping, but then again it was a 3 year affair- even though it's only a girlfriend) in a rather selfish manner. I know it, he knows it, and now you know it. Damn, I worked the shit out of his cock! I'm still thinking about it, want to get off on it, and it reminds me that I'm mad about it. You fucking douchebag! Holy crap. For this, I am curling up and watching a Leave it to Beaver marathon with my newly arrived 1st season DVD.

EASY WAY

As it were, I stopped smoking cigarettes just over 5 weeks ago. I don't specifically know why I haven't mentioned it here until now since it has been on my mind constantly. Constantly in a way that makes me want to share and preach the word of Allen Carr and his method that has cured/helped/inspired millions of people worldwide on the struggles of us smokers and now non-smokers alike. Stopping has changed my life. I used to think it was only the other smoke that put me in the lowest place I could go: sloth. It was not the THC, but the nicotine. Now, I'm not saying that the smoke smoke don't slow me down a bit cuz it do, but what I let cigarettes do to me is what brought on the inner sloth. It was agreed that once I started smoking in this apartment, I'd only smoke in the front room. Then as prices went up I decided that when I smoke a cigarette, I'd smoke the cig and only smoke the cig. I wouldn't do anything while I smoked it so that I could enjoy it since it would be about an hour before I'd let myself have another. The next phase of this sloth brought me into the time of avoiding all things that kept me from smoking except my day job and I barely smoked during the 9-5 slot. It was the nighttime. The time when I could get away from my job and let my thoughts go numb by the TV and drift into Whatamigonnabewhenigrowland. I had made a promise to myself that when I turned 30 that I'd be done with cigarettes. I couldn't do it. I thought about it constantly, but I just said that I would deal with it the next day and so on until I turned 30 and was smoking at the ballpark still not ready to give it up. I finally got to a point 5 weeks ago that led me to realize I couldn't afford it now nor afford it in the next couple months. I bit the bullet, bought the book, and I can't tell you just how awesome I feel in so many different ways. I've had to deal with a few blows this week and I haven't once thought about needing or even wanting a cigarette. I still support smokers because we all are entitled to choices no matter what they be.

Out of Season

Virtually nothing about my day job is fulfilling, positive, or challenging (other than headache challenging). There are few things other than a handful of people that put a smile on my face in that cube. One of the other things that brings smiles is music, specifically, Leroy Anderson's Sleigh Ride. Last Christmas, my father gave his children a compilation of his favorite Xmas tunes and that is the only holiday music I have on the work media player. It is a delight to hear, say, ACDC then all of a sudden you hear those trumpets. Bah booodala doo doo, bah boodaladoo, etc. I can't help, but shake it out with a big ol' smile.

I'm currently creating a list of all the songs I want men to dedicate to me. I think they will appreciate my excellent taste in music and it will increase their desire to dedicate more songs to me. Almost like a challenge, like 'here's one you haven't thought of' and I'm fine with that. In fact, it's actually helping me to gain respect for myself and for future men that know what an incredibly awesome lady I would be for them and in general. Here's to my slow returning self confidence and tomorrow's softball games!

It lasted for 30 mins. At 8:59 it began, or at least that's when I noticed the steady banging. At first it may have been them getting busy in the living room and it kept stopping like they realized they were making noise, but the inconsistant banging continued for 30 mins. After changing rooms, still able to hear it, and waiting 30 mins, my balls dropped and I marched right upstairs and knocked on their door. No one responded, but they were talking and at one point I heard her giggle so I knocked again only louder and she answered. She has the nicest smile and it's so big that I feel terrible telling them to shut the fuck up. Here, for months I've been cussing them out, I will avoid them at all costs so that I don't say anything mean or stupid or even start to like them. I almost enjoy the hatred and being the elusive neighbor. I ran into them the other day as they were coming back from running. We had a nice little chat. Seeing them I'm pretty sure one would think they had been running since they had no equipment and they were wicked sweaty, but still maybe I shouldn't blurt out their activities so that they know I was watching them jog away. If they weren't so loud I wouldn't care, but when they leave, I want to see if they look like they'll be a while so I can get some quality quiet instead of false alarm 1/2 block away and right back again bs. So tonight, they were both really sweet again and damnit, that pisses me off. I can't believe I went up there, but it was perfect since he really was hammering as he was putting their new dresser together. Did I mention how cute they both are? Just precious. Damnit. It just makes it so hard to tell them they are being loud and now I feel bad when I'm angry and annoyed about the noise. The most frustrating part about it is that it almost seems like they had no clue how loud he was being. She had mentioned once that she was deaf, but seems to speak pretty well, so I dunno. At least I said something and they've been relatively quiet since. Hopefully, I looked stressed out and not like I was about to punch them both in the face at the same time. I was nice, but I showed genuine distress as though it was really hard for me to tell them to shut the fuck up. So nice to stop. I even told them that I just needed a ballpark so that I could work around them since I actually had a writing assignment to complete. The only night this week I'm home and work has been busy and annoying. But I accomplished two big things confidence wise tonight: confronting and commiting. I confronted a problem that I was having and it worked out without them throwing back any problems they have with me. He was putting together a dresser and volunteered to stop for the night which was super cool of him. I also completed a task for a deadline and though not my finest work, I think I did pretty ok.

Jewbaleeeee Softball

Super duper. Tonight was the first night I announced for the all men softball teams. I had no idea it would be all men. I'm so OK with that, in fact, so OK with it, that I wish it were more than one day a week. I'm the only girl in a sea of mostly beautiful Jewish men in their upper 20s. Even if I have no chance with any of them, my eye candy fulfillment has just hit the jackpot. SO nice. It's was so fun. I'm not the swiftest when it comes to scoring, announcing (Jewlicious) names and ad libbing on the first try. I'll admit, I'm a little on the awkward side, but once I can get a grasp on a rhythm and muscle memory, I should do just fine and make some friends in the process. As the first names were given to me, all I could think of was, 'Oh, shit, I'm gonna botch the snot out their names.' I even went so far during the last game to say, 'I'm gonna need to brush on my Jew names' forgetting that Kevin may not be cool with the new girl throwin' the 'Jew' detail out there, but then he supported my initial thought in saying that about 80% of the dudes playing are Jewish. uhm, score. Not that I'm yearning to be a shiksa, but some of the absolute nicest boys and least superficial gents that I have ever met have been Jewish. That's nice. You may hear more about this weekly. What an absolute treat this has brought to my boring life. Even if I don't meet anyone significant, I'm already having a blast.

SOY

Shame on you. Shame on you for not responding. Shame on you for not responding after you saw my picture. Shame on me for feeling super confident after we conversed emailily (new word) and not having thick enough skin to deal with the rejection. You fucking douchebag. And to think, I was gonna put my mouth on your cock. Huh. I can't believe I was so naive (again) to think that answering an ad out of the blue would once again be uncomfortable. I don't like the 'answering ads' or 'posting personals' on the internet or even in the newspaper for that matter. Not that I think there's anything wrong with it and I think it's great that people find the connections there and some that really work and survive. I believe I become more attractive the better you know me, but when it comes to these personals, I just can't get a hit. I even offered up my best services because he was upfront enough to ask for it in a non-pornographic way. Not saying that pornography is bad, but for me, that's something to bring up later after you know each other a bit. Up front right away for me signals that it's more important than a relationship. This guy asked for a decent BJ. Since recently getting out of a long term relationship and wanted a good blow, I was like 'Hell, I've been told I have a gift' and almost felt like it was a little destined that I happen to look at the misc personals on craigs for only the 2nd time in all the time I've perused. Well, as it is, third time is hoping to be the charm. I will post my own ad somewhere probably craigs cuz I ain't payin' for no datin' service. I have already decided what I will be saying, but I'm going to wait until I have another affair next week. It's not really an affair as he is not married, but indeed, they have a commitment and he is obviously needing something else. I would be the desperate fool in this tormented act of carnal secrecy. He likes keeping me a secret. I have not kept it a secret because I have a big fat mouth which is why I'm great at BJs (douchebag!) This will only be the 2nd time for our actually physically doing the deed as opposed to phone calls, somewhat obsessive on his side, but I kinda like it and he'll keep calling since I won't answer. A few times I let him go for so long that he almost gave up or at least that's what he said on the message, so I'd call him back. Got to keep him hanging he's all I got left. That's not how I really feel, but it seems kind of weird that I'm still hanging on to him and he to me. He calls too often for it to be casual. We don't just have phone sex, we actually talk about what's going on in each other's lives. He actually calmed me down on the way back from CA in April. He knows me really only by phone and some class time (old instructor), but was able to settle me down when I was freaking out about my flight being canceled. I grow concerned because he is in LA and when I make my way out there, I just wonder what will become of us. Comfortably I could go either way. I don't know that we could just remain friends because he so used to talking to me about certain things and sometimes in a certain way, so I leave it up the gods. In the meantime, I shall place a personal ad on craigs and it will be confident and honest and hopefully three will bring the charm. Cheers to all the non-douches!

Honkity HOnk honk

As it were, I am awkward, insecure, and uncomfortable with myself. Clearly I don't need any additional agents to increase the general problems I burden on myself. Driving is my stress reliever and my rage engager. Coming from my usual bi-monthly Saturday night jaunt to Trader Joe's, there was a douchebag who clearly forgot he was driving and just stopped. In response I blew my horn and (safely) drove around him. As I kept driving I wondered, 'Who's honking?' as there was no one behind me or even next to me for that matter. The horn continued for a block and a half before I realized, indeed, it was my horn. I began pressing the steering wheel where the horn is located, but nothing, so I started punching it and that only worked for a second. I even pulled over to turn the car off hoping it would help, but no. As I pulled over I could hear people telling my car to shut up. I even yelled back at a girl to tell her it was a short and that I was sorry. And the dude that pulled over for me because I must have been honking at him because clearly I was in a hurry and would continue to honk unless he moved. You can't explain a short in your horn, they only assume you're a douche. Any hand and/or arm gestures can only be some sort of mafia "whattyagonnadoaboutmehonkin'" gesture. It stopped on my block. I unloaded the groceries out of the car and shut the door which made the horn start right back up. Once again, I punched the steering wheel to get it to stop and it did. It started up about 20 mins later and I had to go back outside to deal with it. How does one handle this? Is it considered an emergency? Can roadside assistance disengage your horn? Is this one of those occurrences when AAA comes to your aid or do you risk your car getting egged over night?

In Reference to SVIH

It has been a most trying time since dealing with the neighbor upstairs. I am thankful or at least try to be thankful every day for being in a better place in my head to deal with such annoyances regularly. It is a daily basis that I am consitantly annoyed, jolted, and disregarded by my neighbor SVIH. Today, however, in an effort to relieve this emotion in a way that only passive aggressive folks can, I wrote something as close to a poem that I have written since '89 (about NKOTB). I have repeatedly told myself that I'd march up there and either scream at them after listening to it for a few hours or try to diplomatically confront them before the noise begins for the evening. I have since done nothing except yell and ask rhetorical questions to the ceiling. The main reason I won't confront is because my paranoia has set in and I think that they can smell the doobage smoke that escapes my apartment and wouldn't want them to throw that in my face if, in fact, they have a problem with it let alone actually smelling it. I am given about 15 mins a day to have complete (city apt living) silence. That silence is 10 mins between them leaving for work and me leaving for work in the am and 5 for when I get home before they do. Hardly time to do anything, but maybe take a shit and a half. I will now do my best to draw on the frustration and the behavior that I have towards this annoyance so I may establish an inspiration for creativity. This blogging has ignited a different writing flame that I needed before. Just today, I've had 2 inspirations that should have been realized long ago. I only hope that it is not in vain. I like writing more now than I did before and I used to write every day, but didn't take it as seriously as I should've been from the beginning. I am reading a lot more as well and I would like to share an article from the NY Times that made my hairy ass very excited for fashion since bell bottoms made comeback. ~~ However, the link is not publishing. whatever. The article is on the comeback of bushy eyebrows.

SVIH

She vacuums in heels. She vacuums in heels on a hardwood floor above her neighbor. She vacuums on hardwood floors above her neighbor while her boyfriend moves to a different room once she is ready for the room he has moved to, apparently. She didn't get to the kitchen until last on purpose to play a game with her boyfriend and he likes the game so he isn't even remotely annoyed unlike the poor neighbor who sits and listens to their noise long enough to decipher the activities and emotions that are being displayed on the other side of her ceiling.

Inevitable

I realized the second thing that I had been resisting is the next step in the relearning of myself. I am a feminist. Not a Neo-Nazi one, but a genuine woman that believes that woman can do great things and don't necessarily need their man to pay for it. So I guess that's the socio-feminist that I keep hearing about, but can't find a straight up definition. A wonderful friend of mine has recently published her long awaited novel (Three Fallen Women by Amy Guth http://www.guthagogo.com/) She has introduced me to the socio-femist type of women's greatness. Truly inspiring. Her journey has made me think about things a little more heavily. It would be nice, but at this point, no man wants to take me to dinner regularly. I am now getting angry. I'm not just hurt, continuously, but I am jerked around. I understand this is normal for the most part and SOOOOO many woman go thru this and it is constantly complained about and ranted and screamed about, but damnit, I'm a good chick. I give great head, I would rather go to a baseball game than get jewelry and I like to have a good laugh. It makes me so crazy that this dude that I had relations with a few months back says to me that I don't call, well, when you say you're gonna call me, I agree to wait for you to call. By you saying, 'I'll give you a call' I feel you mean, 'Don't call me, I'll call you' type of thing and leave it at that. The other day we spoke for a bit for the first time in a while. He was giving me shit about not calling him then two male co-workers walked up and both extended a greeting to me and I returned it and the dude's reaction screamed 'jealous boyfriend'. 'Who are they?', he said so accusingly. Fuck you, tiny dick guy! Just because I say hello to two dudes has nothing to do with you and I and what we did several months ago and even if I did lay them both (which is not the case), who the fuck are you to judge me?! I don't ask if you've been with a white woman, nor do I ask if you're fucking women every night since last we did. I can't care. You're not my boyfriend even though I've put it out there that it's ok if you want to be my boyfriend, but after you dissed me today to speak to other chicks, you get none of my good piece. Guess who gets my good piece? The dude I've been having phone sex with for three years who lives in LA, but he'll be visiting in a couple weeks. I am becoming bitter, superficial, and really anti-men and women right now. I bet my neighbor is sweet as pie, but because I live below her and hear her every blessed move above me, I hate her and won't even attempt to get to know her out of spite. I heard her laugh again today and just wanted to run up the stairs, push her boyfriend out of the way and punch her right in the face. Then I want to take her fucking heels and shove them so far up her ass that she will only be able to walk on the balls of her feet. I hate girls. I really fucking hate girls. Not the girls who hate girls (and you know who you are), but the ever giggling, hookerlike dressed, bitch that needs her man to go shopping at Nordstroms with her when clearly he is bored out of his mind. Why would you make your mate do something so retarded? That proves that you are a bitch and you give not two shits about what they want to do, but what you want them to do with you even if it means boring the living snot out of them. I don't want to be bitter, but I am feeling a little uneasy about becoming the woman who never married and kept getting cats to keep her company. I don't want the marriage or the kids right now, but I sure could use a dude asking me out for a walk or even meeting for the free movies in the park. I don't want to die bitter and angry at the male race, but it's becoming more inevitable that I, too, will be donning some military fatique capri pants and a matching green wife beater.

You be the judge of CNN

Keeping up with the headlines is something that I've been more concious of since 9/11 let alone being a comedian. CNN seemed to me as the most trusted source in overall news. I have been more shocked and embarrassed as of late due to the so called headlines that they so blatantly display, i.e. Paris getting bit by her illegal pet kingkadinkadumbasswhatever and this new Britney video. what the FUCK???!!!!! This girl has more free time and money than any of us paycheck to paycheckers will see in a lifetime and I am subjected to hearing her sorry ass belch and talk a load of nonesense instead of hearing about why the Public School system continues to hire people because they go to church with so and so. I believe it is time for Britney to get sentenced to public service. And BTW, Paris has no idea what the absolute meaning of celebacy is and she and Brit should get together on that topic to maybe put their own version of the term in Wikipedia.

I understand the slow news day and that fillers need to be added for such times, but then maybe add some not-so-Iraq or Hezbollah news to the mix. How about a countdown to when Bush will no longer be our president.

Pops

(NOTE:::::: I LOVE MY FATHER FOR WHO HE IS NO MATTER HOW MEAN THIS BLOG!!!!!!!!!)After a long day of touristing, baseballing with my dad, and the three martinis he downed when we got home at 11:30pm, I told my dad that he didn't believe in me (among some other things). He had just announced that he was going to hit the hay and we started arguing over something I don't remember at this time since I partook in some doobage not caring if he smelled it coming out of my room. And it's not like he doesn't know. Whatever. This is why I broke into hives this week. I knew I was going to have to have a talk with him about his behavior in public i.e. unintentional racial slurs. He doesn't mean to be a racist, but his comedy can be so not tactful. Last year we were getting out of the train station on the Southide of Chicago at Sox/35th and there was a break in the crowd when a larger African American gentleman walked across our path about 30 ft in front of us. What does pops do? Says kinda under his breath, but not really because he's losing his hearing, "Hey, hey, hey!" I just walked away from him because at that point that was third in a series of the inappropriate speaking. What was good about that talk is that it came up on it's own after he said something stupid and I started in on him (on the train picking him up from O'Hare!) and he quickly retaliated with almost an apology, but more like 'he knows', type of thing and that he'll be better about those. Since I've lived here, he has visited three times and it's usually pleasant, filled with baseball, and feeling like a 12 yr old kid. Now that may seem fine to some, but part of the reason for starting therapy again is why I feel like a 12 yr old now and whenever I spend time with my dad. I've been pretty blatant in my opinions on certain things ie the Catholic Church and the hemp/doobage this visit. This visit has been good since he is listening to me a little more. He'll make a judgement on someone and I would correct him in saying that people are people and so forth and though he still interrupts my sentences with jokes, one liners, or the need to finish up my babbling, he has become a better listener. He made a reference to everyone having to believe in the Christian God and I quickly insisted he know that not everyone believes in God the way he or any Catholic does and that I have fallen away from the church. He'll yield because he doesn't want to pay attention long enough to hear the point so he can make a joke. Oy. We started talking about The Da Vinci Code and how he won't read it. Why? Because he's a devout Catholic and has no interest in reading something so scandalous or as he said, "It's based on some fact and fiction. ???!!!! He'll never remarry and possibly thinks my mother to be a sinner for marrying someone else. He believes if divorced, which is heinous (not like surfer heinous) in itself, one won't remarry. I don't understand the concept, but after observing his behavior over the last 11 yrs and reanalyzing his behavior before that, it might be best for him not to remarry. He's content on his own, but did vocalize the dislike of being the third wheel which struck a cord with me and I think I had actually brought it up. I'm dealing with that little issue much better as of late. I realized it's my own insecurities and the stupid fratdicks aboooooooooooot. My father, on the other hand, just thinks it plain old sucks. SOOO many things I get from him and it almost makes me mad that now, I have to deal with all his goofy DNA. I'm uncovering a whole lot of stuff now in therapy. He is indeed an alcoholic (much like Mom), not a "bad" one (meaning abusive), but indeed one just the same. He went all day without so much as a beer at the ballgame (all four games) and when we got back he slammed down three martinis in about 20 mins so in no time he was beligerant and swaying. I have virtually nothing against drinking accept the beligerance and the drinking and driving. It's just not appealing to me on a daily basis and it costs too much when I can buy a bag of dope for $80 and it'll last at least 3 weeks. I wish I could remember what we were arguing about, but it doesn't matter because I couldn't get into the "you don't believe in me" remark while he was drunk so I sent him on to bed and we haven't spoken of it since. He leaves tomorrow and we've had a good time going to the baseball games and such. I feel a little bad because I've snapped at him a few times and I'm a total bitch for those times, but that's me and I've been dealing with him and his pissing down the front of my toilet bowl. Ugh. whatever. Point being I've been dealing with a little more OCD junk while he's been here and it makes me a little more nervous of WTF am I gonna do when I get married (if I get married). I can't even go into this as apparently I am premenstrual - awesome. Now all two of you who read this will know my menstrual cycle.

And back again

This delay reminds me of what I used to do with my journals. I got to a point where only bad things were happening, so I stopped writing in my journal until good things happened and there were weeks and months between entries. Needlesstosay, what I thought was bad times were not really that bad as life will hand you more unpleasantness as we move forward. Most of my journal entries pre college were clearly about boys. That's probably why I stopped because boys are the bane of my existence. I recently stopped smoking cigarettes and in doing so, I have found a little more self confidence and a little more drive to be out in public. As it were, (almost) each public appearance I have made has brought me back to junior high feeling insecure, fat, and unattractive. I know it's all the same as Susie the fat girl's story from beyond, but I should be at a point in my adult life where this shit doesn't hurt me. Yet, it continuously hurts my feelings and makes me not want to leave my home. These occurrences, mind you, may have been all conjured up in my head, but for what it's worth, I'm not retarded, I know code words, hand gestures, and the change in someone's volume and or pitch while conversing and/or joking with their fellow fratdick. In the next few months, I will be making a major change in my life i.e. moving to LA. With my many body issues, I have been warned that LA may not be the best place for me to deal with my insecurities and my disdain for the people who are "on" all the time may be in full force, but this can not stop me. Again, I should be over all this shit and I should be able to embrace the gifts that I have been given. The problem being is the lack of knowledge I have to distinguish what exactly those gifts are and how to use them in a career advantageous way. For this reason, I am still where I am and knew I'd need a little more time to get myself closer to a place that I feel will help me move forward instead of thinking I could just get over it and move to LA right them when the opportunity hit. I am moving into a bit of doubt because I didn't take the chance right then, but people have spent money on reservations and banked on seeing me here in Chicago, so I stayed. Somedays I wish I had just gone cuz it's just dragging on and though I've made progress, I feel that the frat boys will continuously make chubby, unattractive girls feel so useless and unwanted that I may be wanted for murder before I get a chance to share my gifts.