I've written two 33 word stories for Trifecta's Triextra over here. The rules were simple: Write a love story in exactly 33 words. Of course, I can't abide by 100% rule compliance, so I wrote two.
1--- The first time they met, oceans swelled and crashed, car tires squealed, jets flew, and bugs crawled, but the only thing she would ever notice near him was his heart calling her home.
2 -- He joked that the faces she made upon meeting him would make a story to amuse their kids. Their babies never drew breath, and their explorations left the fertile grounds scorched and barren.
Saturday, January 28, 2012
Friday, January 27, 2012
January Sucks
I've been trying, and trying and trying some more to come up with something good, something wholly funny and just plain fun that ever happened to me in any January. I'm drawing a blank. I can think of many, many things that happened in Januarys, but they're not the things I'd like to remember while I'm hoping the days grow longer soon.
I met John in January. I've covered that already. He now falls into the bittersweet category anyway.
That's it. That's my whole list of things that don't suck that happened in January. A lot of the things I remember aren't horrible, but they're such reminders of ... Something I don't recall as fun at the moment. Some of the events make for the kind of stories that would make you shake your head, half in laughter, half in disgust and wonder what to make of the whole convoluted mess. I don't feel like being mired in the "holy shit" of it all.
I started a new college in January. There was a blizzard that January. I got lost on my way to class every single time I even bothered to try to attend class that January. Hmm, not fun. Well, it had it's slightly amusing moments. I mostly just remember it as gray now.
I got dumped in a bar for tickling my boyfriend's butt one too many times in front of his friends in January. That's kinda funny. The fact that my ex who made me feel guilty and like a horrible human being was there to witness it kinda lessens the fun. As does the part where I went home with some random stranger that night who ended up being hung like, like ... uh, I guess one of those dildos you see and do an involuntary giggle, wondering how that would feel good. Yeah, that part was kinda funny, kinda pathetic.
Too bad it led to me pissing blood for a week, the final straw coming when I saw only blood and screamed in pain, while visiting a friend who lived four hours away from me. My friend came to pick me up and take me to the hospital. We stopped to see my daughter's father, who had gotten out of the Air Force "for us, and our daughter". The first thing we saw when walking in the door of his mother's house was his infant son, who hadn't been mentioned in the fairy tale he spun.
Then the pain pills led to some very interesting nights that are pretty amusing in a microcosm. As a whole, and part of one week, and the end of that particular month? Yeah, banging the resident crackhead in the bar bathroom is even more pathetic than if it had been part of some random time frame.
There are some pretty crappy pregnancy stories involving Januarys. There's just nothing funny about any of them.
Let's see ... I had fun with Patrick in January. But not much, he pretty much pushed me out of his life in January. The funniest part of that night involved something terribly not funny in retrospect as well. Well, it's one of those things that's funny in a "holy shit" kinda way, again.
Um ...
My boyfriend found out he had cancer in January. I dumped him later in the month, partially because of how he and his family acted about that whole deal. Really, when I'm the most rational and ready to confront reality person in the room, there's a big fucking problem. Who pretends a cancerous tumor the size of a freaking baseball doesn't exist while it's being removed, then pretends it never existed as the doctor is explaining it to them, and then ignores the whole fucking thing as soon as the patient wakes up from the operation?? The guy had surgery that took place through his penis, and they had him taking his nephew to the aquarium less than two hours later. Hello?!? (He was actually perfectly fine by the time I dumped him, btw). Yeah, nothing funny there either.
Yeah, OK. Just fuck January. Unless I make something ridiculously wonderful happen in the next five days or so, I think I'm going to hibernate through next January. I bet I have some funny shit that happened in February though ...
I met John in January. I've covered that already. He now falls into the bittersweet category anyway.
That's it. That's my whole list of things that don't suck that happened in January. A lot of the things I remember aren't horrible, but they're such reminders of ... Something I don't recall as fun at the moment. Some of the events make for the kind of stories that would make you shake your head, half in laughter, half in disgust and wonder what to make of the whole convoluted mess. I don't feel like being mired in the "holy shit" of it all.
I started a new college in January. There was a blizzard that January. I got lost on my way to class every single time I even bothered to try to attend class that January. Hmm, not fun. Well, it had it's slightly amusing moments. I mostly just remember it as gray now.
I got dumped in a bar for tickling my boyfriend's butt one too many times in front of his friends in January. That's kinda funny. The fact that my ex who made me feel guilty and like a horrible human being was there to witness it kinda lessens the fun. As does the part where I went home with some random stranger that night who ended up being hung like, like ... uh, I guess one of those dildos you see and do an involuntary giggle, wondering how that would feel good. Yeah, that part was kinda funny, kinda pathetic.
Too bad it led to me pissing blood for a week, the final straw coming when I saw only blood and screamed in pain, while visiting a friend who lived four hours away from me. My friend came to pick me up and take me to the hospital. We stopped to see my daughter's father, who had gotten out of the Air Force "for us, and our daughter". The first thing we saw when walking in the door of his mother's house was his infant son, who hadn't been mentioned in the fairy tale he spun.
Then the pain pills led to some very interesting nights that are pretty amusing in a microcosm. As a whole, and part of one week, and the end of that particular month? Yeah, banging the resident crackhead in the bar bathroom is even more pathetic than if it had been part of some random time frame.
There are some pretty crappy pregnancy stories involving Januarys. There's just nothing funny about any of them.
Let's see ... I had fun with Patrick in January. But not much, he pretty much pushed me out of his life in January. The funniest part of that night involved something terribly not funny in retrospect as well. Well, it's one of those things that's funny in a "holy shit" kinda way, again.
Um ...
My boyfriend found out he had cancer in January. I dumped him later in the month, partially because of how he and his family acted about that whole deal. Really, when I'm the most rational and ready to confront reality person in the room, there's a big fucking problem. Who pretends a cancerous tumor the size of a freaking baseball doesn't exist while it's being removed, then pretends it never existed as the doctor is explaining it to them, and then ignores the whole fucking thing as soon as the patient wakes up from the operation?? The guy had surgery that took place through his penis, and they had him taking his nephew to the aquarium less than two hours later. Hello?!? (He was actually perfectly fine by the time I dumped him, btw). Yeah, nothing funny there either.
Yeah, OK. Just fuck January. Unless I make something ridiculously wonderful happen in the next five days or so, I think I'm going to hibernate through next January. I bet I have some funny shit that happened in February though ...
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Father Jared
One of my old fraternity buddies is now a Cath.ol.ic pri.est. No, it was not a service fraternity. In fact, while Father Jared was a member, they got kicked off campus, then disbanded totally by both the university and the national fraternity headquarters, or whatever you want to call it. I'm still trying to wrap my brain around it, and I think the seminar.ry and all the shit they have to go through afterwards takes a minimum of six years.
The first time I heard he was taking this particular life path, I was at an outdoor, town-wide music festival. A group of us were gathered outside the beer tent, and someone made a joke about his new vocational path. I was confused, because he was never a particularly caring, or tactful person. In fact, he had a big mouth and told everyone any privileged information he heard. I was pondering these personality traits and how ill suited they are for a supposed leader and confidante. Of course, the little boy and gay jokes were made. I tried to keep it civil, and just mentioned that I supposed he'd finally given up on women. My natural follow up to that was, "I guess that means he's still a virgin, huh?"
Everyone stopped and stared at me. One guy said, "You know he's not." I thought about it a bit, trying to remember a possible suspect. I couldn't come up with one that should be obvious to me, so I asked who. They told me it was me.
Now, I've been drunk. I've been blacked out and woken up naked in strange places, (and occasionally not so strange places) and assumed how my memory hole was filled. *ahem* Not once had this guy ever been in a position where I'd even question myself. I remember him trying, by using a "come tuck me in" trick that had eventually worked for one of his pledge brothers. I also remember turning my head so he slobbered all over my cheek as I stood in his dorm hallway (three doors away from where I went in with someone else) and then went home.
I remembered being his date to numerous fraternity functions when he couldn't convince anyone else to go with him. I remember both of us leaving with other people, and no hard feelings. I still did not remember de-virginizing Jared. I said so. No one quite believed me, because apparently he told them all I had during his freshman year. The other guys had been mentioning it, apparently out of my earshot, for the rest of their college days. Except it never happened.
They asked why I thought they called him Papa Jared. I shrugged and said it was because he was nice to my daughter and made sure no one said anything remotely off color near her, and tried to teach her how to play pool. I guess they thought I was smarter than I am, because no one believed that truth. Eventually, I pointed out that I got a huge kick out of de-virginizing guys, and I surely would have remembered if I had, and most likely would have brought it up in conversation repeatedly. The truth of this statement hit them, and they begrudgingly let the topic die. I'm not sure how many of the guys still think I slept with him, but ...
All those years I put up with his crap because I felt bad for him not fitting in, even amongst the misfits, and he was just perpetuating a lie. I got ragged on all the time, and it didn't bother me. Most people were just kidding, or thought it was fun to see how much I'd take before my claws came out, and I'd start ripping new assholes. It was always different with Jared though. I never felt like he was doing it to include me, but rather, to include himself. His "jokes" had a sharp edge that made even his fraternity brothers pause. Then he'd hug me, or pat my back and make sure to tell everyone he was just kidding and that they all loved me. Too bad he missed out on the fact that the same was obvious until he went too far. I always let it go because I could tell he was just trying to be impressive, or fit in, or something foreign to me that I could almost put my finger on, but not quite.
Anyway, this is a very long winded way of saying that I find it horribly ironic (for lack of a better word) that a man who has taken a vow to never have a family feels he can control the rights of other people's family making decisions. I'm having a very hard time letting his youthful bad decisions stay in the past when I have the opportunity to feel like I'm showing his par.ishioners how little he knows about life, and leadership and compassion, and how listening to him is just foolish. I know it is worthless though. I know the faithful will ignore or excuse the same things about him that I myself have ignored and excused. I know I will look petty and vindictive against a man with bad character who is now seen as a pillar of his society. I guess I can take comfort in the fact that everyone outside of his church knows he's still an asshole. ;)
The first time I heard he was taking this particular life path, I was at an outdoor, town-wide music festival. A group of us were gathered outside the beer tent, and someone made a joke about his new vocational path. I was confused, because he was never a particularly caring, or tactful person. In fact, he had a big mouth and told everyone any privileged information he heard. I was pondering these personality traits and how ill suited they are for a supposed leader and confidante. Of course, the little boy and gay jokes were made. I tried to keep it civil, and just mentioned that I supposed he'd finally given up on women. My natural follow up to that was, "I guess that means he's still a virgin, huh?"
Everyone stopped and stared at me. One guy said, "You know he's not." I thought about it a bit, trying to remember a possible suspect. I couldn't come up with one that should be obvious to me, so I asked who. They told me it was me.
Now, I've been drunk. I've been blacked out and woken up naked in strange places, (and occasionally not so strange places) and assumed how my memory hole was filled. *ahem* Not once had this guy ever been in a position where I'd even question myself. I remember him trying, by using a "come tuck me in" trick that had eventually worked for one of his pledge brothers. I also remember turning my head so he slobbered all over my cheek as I stood in his dorm hallway (three doors away from where I went in with someone else) and then went home.
I remembered being his date to numerous fraternity functions when he couldn't convince anyone else to go with him. I remember both of us leaving with other people, and no hard feelings. I still did not remember de-virginizing Jared. I said so. No one quite believed me, because apparently he told them all I had during his freshman year. The other guys had been mentioning it, apparently out of my earshot, for the rest of their college days. Except it never happened.
They asked why I thought they called him Papa Jared. I shrugged and said it was because he was nice to my daughter and made sure no one said anything remotely off color near her, and tried to teach her how to play pool. I guess they thought I was smarter than I am, because no one believed that truth. Eventually, I pointed out that I got a huge kick out of de-virginizing guys, and I surely would have remembered if I had, and most likely would have brought it up in conversation repeatedly. The truth of this statement hit them, and they begrudgingly let the topic die. I'm not sure how many of the guys still think I slept with him, but ...
All those years I put up with his crap because I felt bad for him not fitting in, even amongst the misfits, and he was just perpetuating a lie. I got ragged on all the time, and it didn't bother me. Most people were just kidding, or thought it was fun to see how much I'd take before my claws came out, and I'd start ripping new assholes. It was always different with Jared though. I never felt like he was doing it to include me, but rather, to include himself. His "jokes" had a sharp edge that made even his fraternity brothers pause. Then he'd hug me, or pat my back and make sure to tell everyone he was just kidding and that they all loved me. Too bad he missed out on the fact that the same was obvious until he went too far. I always let it go because I could tell he was just trying to be impressive, or fit in, or something foreign to me that I could almost put my finger on, but not quite.
Anyway, this is a very long winded way of saying that I find it horribly ironic (for lack of a better word) that a man who has taken a vow to never have a family feels he can control the rights of other people's family making decisions. I'm having a very hard time letting his youthful bad decisions stay in the past when I have the opportunity to feel like I'm showing his par.ishioners how little he knows about life, and leadership and compassion, and how listening to him is just foolish. I know it is worthless though. I know the faithful will ignore or excuse the same things about him that I myself have ignored and excused. I know I will look petty and vindictive against a man with bad character who is now seen as a pillar of his society. I guess I can take comfort in the fact that everyone outside of his church knows he's still an asshole. ;)
Monday, January 09, 2012
set adrift
I'm bored, lonely, and suffering from insomnia. This usually leads me to reminisce, and write. I'm tired of remembering when I had a life worth writing about. I want a life worth thinking about and writing about now. I'm just not sure how to accomplish that. Less than a month ago, I thought I would accomplish that. Now I'm stuck on the pause button, yet again.
I mentioned to a friend today that I wasn't sure I'd be able to make it to my Tuesday volunteer duties, which posed a problem mostly because finding a substitute is your own problem and not many of the women there talk to me. He responded that as far as he could tell, women never really talked to me. I've been told this numerous times in numerous ways before. I'm not really sure what the deal is, but it's true.
When I first gained weight after my son was born, I noticed more women spoke to me. I just figured it was because I had a baby, and therefore automatically became approachable, but I wasn't always with him. Then I lost a lot of weight. No one spoke to me then. No, wait, that's not true. Teenagers thought I was their age so they spoke to me, and women above retirement age spoke to me regularly. Then I gained a little bit of weight back, and once again, women spoke to me. I had my ass grabbed by women (bartenders, no less) in bars, I was told I'd be a good reason to try same-sex sex, and just generally approached by women. Then some more weight stuck to my ass. Now very few people speak to me, and no one approaches me. Awesome.
I wonder what the deal is, and whether it says more about me or more about other people. I suspect pleasantly plump is just below a certain acceptable threat level. Too far above that level, no contact. Too far below, why bother? I've pretty much been the same the whole time. *sigh* It seems ridiculous to even think that, because I'm never one to put any effort into my looks, or think that I look good, ever. I'm pretty sure it's not just a figment of my imagination though.
Why is it so hard to make friends after a certain age? I don't want or need drinking buddies anymore, but someone who used to drink and whore it up, and now tries to maintain some sort of "normalcy" while still retaining a personality would be much appreciated. I know people who have never given it up, and I know people who pretend they've never done a damn thing that would be considered "adult fun" in their whole lives. Why is it so hard to let go of part of it, but not all of it? Maybe because if you do it that way, you end up still awake at 5:15AM, writing crap and wondering why life has to be so difficult.
I mentioned to a friend today that I wasn't sure I'd be able to make it to my Tuesday volunteer duties, which posed a problem mostly because finding a substitute is your own problem and not many of the women there talk to me. He responded that as far as he could tell, women never really talked to me. I've been told this numerous times in numerous ways before. I'm not really sure what the deal is, but it's true.
When I first gained weight after my son was born, I noticed more women spoke to me. I just figured it was because I had a baby, and therefore automatically became approachable, but I wasn't always with him. Then I lost a lot of weight. No one spoke to me then. No, wait, that's not true. Teenagers thought I was their age so they spoke to me, and women above retirement age spoke to me regularly. Then I gained a little bit of weight back, and once again, women spoke to me. I had my ass grabbed by women (bartenders, no less) in bars, I was told I'd be a good reason to try same-sex sex, and just generally approached by women. Then some more weight stuck to my ass. Now very few people speak to me, and no one approaches me. Awesome.
I wonder what the deal is, and whether it says more about me or more about other people. I suspect pleasantly plump is just below a certain acceptable threat level. Too far above that level, no contact. Too far below, why bother? I've pretty much been the same the whole time. *sigh* It seems ridiculous to even think that, because I'm never one to put any effort into my looks, or think that I look good, ever. I'm pretty sure it's not just a figment of my imagination though.
Why is it so hard to make friends after a certain age? I don't want or need drinking buddies anymore, but someone who used to drink and whore it up, and now tries to maintain some sort of "normalcy" while still retaining a personality would be much appreciated. I know people who have never given it up, and I know people who pretend they've never done a damn thing that would be considered "adult fun" in their whole lives. Why is it so hard to let go of part of it, but not all of it? Maybe because if you do it that way, you end up still awake at 5:15AM, writing crap and wondering why life has to be so difficult.
Wednesday, January 04, 2012
new health week 1
I decided to give up gluten, dairy and sugar for the new year. I feel like shit all the time and have about 60lbs to lose. (I lost it about six years ago, but it found me again. I think this time I'm going to have to hide a little harder.) Yeah, fun. Being the idiot I am, I bought tons of crap to eat for New Year's Eve. I forgot to buy decent stuff to eat the next day and I didn't finish all the cheese dip and pretzels from the day before, so I finished that off on what was supposed to be my first day. *shrugs* I wobble when I wiggle, can barely stand up without OTC pain meds, and a lot of them, and I've been farting a lot. Oh yes, I've got some zits the size of dimes going on. WooHoo!! Looking and feeling good!! Or not. Two Aleve and four Motrin is standard, and allows me to hobble about a bit. I wake up choking on phlegm nightly.
Day 2: I decided that I'm going to wait to give up my beloved Cherry Pepsi. It helps get rid of migraines, blah, blah, fucking blah. Ate properly all day. Vegan Mac & Cheese with brown rice pasta for dinner. Wasn't crazy about it, so I only had a little. Will avoid the yellow mustard in the recipe next time. Remembered to take Aleve and Motrin before the pain was ridiculous.
Day 3: Forgot to take Motrin and Aleve. Read an article in which PepsiCo states that mice couldn't be found whole in cans of their soda because they'd melt into goo. Eeeewwww. Drank a few more sips, and put it down, disgusted. The bubbles were getting on my nerves, so I finished it, but that was my only Pepsi of the day. Pain was ridiculous so I had two left over hard pretzels. Decided going vegan and all the other shit was too much, had organic grass fed chip steak for dinner. Blech. Maybe I will avoid beef. Sprouted wheat rolls don't count, right? Had three pieces of leftover candy around 10:00, but I'm still doing better than usual.
Day 4: woke up.with a headache. Must remember to take pain meds before I give in and eat away the pain. Ugh. No pain killers will make this plague better. Yuck. Sick. Must not give in, may as well get detox symptoms over with while I'm sick, right? Ate pretzels and drank soda. Fun.
Day 5: feel almost human again. No soda in the house, so that's good. Rice w/seaweed and ume plum vinegar. Tofu w/avocado and spinach on sprouted wheat. Pepperoni. Tongue split at the tip. Kinda like a big paper cut. Ouch. No sugar. Head killing me. Blech. Blech. Blech.
Day 6: I only got about three hours of sleep last night, but I made it all day yesterday without cheating. Surprisingly, I feel better than I have all week. In the midst of my painful tossing and turning, I realized that if I cheat, all that pain and annoyance will be for nothing and I'll start back at square one again. That idea doesn't sound appealing, at all. Also helping this is a severe money shortage. I can't buy soda if I wanted to, we're that damn broke right now. Ugh. Good thing we have lots of healthy food in the house, right? Right? Yeah. I know. I'm not buying it either. WooHoo!! Made it through today without cheats too!! I *did* eat a potato with chicken (which is a no-no for my son), and I made pan fried popcorn chicken (with organic brown rice coating), but fuck, was it delicious. Meat will be cut out too, I just need to eat something in the transitional phase. At this point, I fully realize how dumb it would be to cheat now. Two whole days without doesn't sound that impressive, until you try to do it. Bitches who do it all the time must be fucking crazy. Right, cuz I'm not aiming for all the time myself. *sigh* Just call me a crazy bitch. Hopefully I'll at least be a hot crazy bitch soon enough. I need to get laid.
Day 7. Only four hours of sleep again, but I can walk, so that's good. Starting to run out of food that looks appealing and is easy to grab, but I made it without cheats. Now if I can just find a good gluten free pretzel recipe, I think I'll be set. Might try making rice crackers tomorrow. Fun stuff. Hopefully I can smell things properly soon, I'm having a hard time cooking without my nose. Oooh, just realized I didn't take any pain meds today. Huh. Will you look at that? Uh, 3 days down, who the hell knows how many more to go.
Day 2: I decided that I'm going to wait to give up my beloved Cherry Pepsi. It helps get rid of migraines, blah, blah, fucking blah. Ate properly all day. Vegan Mac & Cheese with brown rice pasta for dinner. Wasn't crazy about it, so I only had a little. Will avoid the yellow mustard in the recipe next time. Remembered to take Aleve and Motrin before the pain was ridiculous.
Day 3: Forgot to take Motrin and Aleve. Read an article in which PepsiCo states that mice couldn't be found whole in cans of their soda because they'd melt into goo. Eeeewwww. Drank a few more sips, and put it down, disgusted. The bubbles were getting on my nerves, so I finished it, but that was my only Pepsi of the day. Pain was ridiculous so I had two left over hard pretzels. Decided going vegan and all the other shit was too much, had organic grass fed chip steak for dinner. Blech. Maybe I will avoid beef. Sprouted wheat rolls don't count, right? Had three pieces of leftover candy around 10:00, but I'm still doing better than usual.
Day 4: woke up.with a headache. Must remember to take pain meds before I give in and eat away the pain. Ugh. No pain killers will make this plague better. Yuck. Sick. Must not give in, may as well get detox symptoms over with while I'm sick, right? Ate pretzels and drank soda. Fun.
Day 5: feel almost human again. No soda in the house, so that's good. Rice w/seaweed and ume plum vinegar. Tofu w/avocado and spinach on sprouted wheat. Pepperoni. Tongue split at the tip. Kinda like a big paper cut. Ouch. No sugar. Head killing me. Blech. Blech. Blech.
Day 6: I only got about three hours of sleep last night, but I made it all day yesterday without cheating. Surprisingly, I feel better than I have all week. In the midst of my painful tossing and turning, I realized that if I cheat, all that pain and annoyance will be for nothing and I'll start back at square one again. That idea doesn't sound appealing, at all. Also helping this is a severe money shortage. I can't buy soda if I wanted to, we're that damn broke right now. Ugh. Good thing we have lots of healthy food in the house, right? Right? Yeah. I know. I'm not buying it either. WooHoo!! Made it through today without cheats too!! I *did* eat a potato with chicken (which is a no-no for my son), and I made pan fried popcorn chicken (with organic brown rice coating), but fuck, was it delicious. Meat will be cut out too, I just need to eat something in the transitional phase. At this point, I fully realize how dumb it would be to cheat now. Two whole days without doesn't sound that impressive, until you try to do it. Bitches who do it all the time must be fucking crazy. Right, cuz I'm not aiming for all the time myself. *sigh* Just call me a crazy bitch. Hopefully I'll at least be a hot crazy bitch soon enough. I need to get laid.
Day 7. Only four hours of sleep again, but I can walk, so that's good. Starting to run out of food that looks appealing and is easy to grab, but I made it without cheats. Now if I can just find a good gluten free pretzel recipe, I think I'll be set. Might try making rice crackers tomorrow. Fun stuff. Hopefully I can smell things properly soon, I'm having a hard time cooking without my nose. Oooh, just realized I didn't take any pain meds today. Huh. Will you look at that? Uh, 3 days down, who the hell knows how many more to go.
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