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Monday, March 28, 2011

Of note:

Banana bread is remarkably less tasty without nuts.

Sunday, March 27, 2011

I can't hear you anymore...

Good bye call center.

I stood up and walked out in mid February. I'd had enough. Someone I dearly love had just died. And I'd been out too late.

I came into work and saw my new schedule: four tens and a twelve. This was the third time they'd increased my hours in as many weeks. I even tried to sign in that day. I tried eight different computers. None of them worked.

So I wrote a pleasant sounding note and left it on my never-there supervisor's desk, and drove away. And hid out at the library and my boyfriend's during what would have been my shifts for four days, to avoid telling my family.

Fuck you, verizon. You treat your customers like shit and reward your employees for adding things to their accounts without the customers' knowledge. Also you treat your employees like shit if they don't do this. Which never, ever benefit the customer. I don't know much about your cellular service, I worked in the land-line/internet/tv division. But I'll never get your cell service because of it.

I now happily clean buildings for a living. The customers appreciate it and the employees are happy. huzzah.

Saturday, March 26, 2011

Of note:

Yeti vs. Sasquatch. How could I possibly choose a side?

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

I can't believe it's not single!

"It" being me. I was almost used to the fact that I would not find anybody in this world to love and be loved by. It doesn't mean that this might not end at some point. I have no clue.

But it's so good. I feel like I don't often look at the good parts in life, but rather focus on the bad. So let's take a moment to review the good.

That morning he woke me up with the sweetest sex evar, and I orgasmed three times.

Around Christmas time, when he bought me an FX lightsaber, but was unfortunate enough to be the second person to purchase it for me. Those things are 150 bucks. Heh. Poor boy had to return it. But then he got me a PS 2 to replace the one that "disappeared" (probably got thrown away by my gamer hating mother). JUST as good.

The way he uses ridiculous, embarrassing pet names. That I secretly love but openly despise. Sweety pie? Really? SUGAR LIPS? Sweetheart. Honey. Why? I do not know. I can't even convince myself to use em. I always feel like a freak when I do it. And I (secretly) feel special when he does it.

He accepts me. And all the crazy things that I do. No, not just accepts. Enjoys. I thought it would take a miracle to find someone who wasn't bothered by my weirdness. Now I've got somebody as odd as me.

Permit me an emoticon.




God? I know we don't talk much of late. But thank you. He's wonderful. Bless him. I love him. Muy mucho. Even with all the bitter parts I dearly, dearly love him.

(I also enjoy tormenting him by writing this in his presence and not letting him read it.)

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Of note:

Music man put his ex-wife under family in his phone contacts... It's probably petty for me to be bothered by that. Argh. I'm a terrible person. Probably.


In the interest of sexually educating myself I find myself filling my internet search history with horrifying things:

The dirty sanchez: I heard it mentioned on south park and I thought, huh, what an odd name for a sex position. I'll have to look that up. Pretty much involves fingering somebody in the asshole and drawing them a grody new mustache.

Did you know that the whips and chains are actually pretty light as far as bondage goes these days? There are women that drive giant needles through their breasts and put clamps on their labias. Yeah, I kind of thought I was kinky. I've got nothing on em.

I've found I've got a bit of a fetish for vine bondage porn. Generally it's all drawn, rather than pictures or videos.

A secondary note on vine bondage porn, I discovered a very disturbing picture of Yoshi in that particular search. No, I shan't link it. Google it. I'm sure you'll find it. But I'm not going to shoulder any responsibility for any kind of psychological trauma.

Tossing the salad, rimming and licking asshole all mean the same thing. Feels good to receive, blows my sense of self-worth to hell when I do it. (frankly goth guy insisted and I hate him for it. I hope he trips over a curb and messes his face up so bad that even his fancy new wife won't touch that shit.)

It is really freaking hard to find good written erotica online. Really, really hard. It's like there's no middle ground between too much plot (published erotica) and the scripts that the B rate porn industry rejected (the stuff I find online).

Seriously. I found a story about a crazy raping alien. It didn't get me horny. It just left me wondering how I'd managed to get to the end. (I've decided it's the same basic deal as a car accident with multiple fatalities. Just couldn't look away. No matter how horrible it was.)

Actually the best erotica I found online was accidental, whilst searching vine bondage on deviantart.com. I discovered this gem. The title is Fetish Island and it's a choose your own path erotica! GOOD IDEA. I commend the writer.

Sunday, March 20, 2011

God forgive us the things that we do...

Will I really end up staying with him?

What a terrible mystery. I wonder what Sherlock Holmes would tell me. He'd know right away. Because he's Sherlock. You know.

I love Music Man. I know that Music Man loves me. But of course there's a problem. And of course it's his ex-wife. He wishes he could have made it work. I asked if he wished he was back with her rather than with me, like if he could go back, would he? He told me if I had never seen him, yes. Not, no, not now that I know you. I love you and want to be with you.

If she asked to work it out, his heart would break because he couldn't. What, because he's stuck with me? THAT'S not okay.

He tried to leave me a week before valentines day. Because it wasn't fair to me and he needed to deal with his shit by himself. And I fought back. I said no. I fought for him to stay with me. Because I love him so much.

Sometimes he makes me feel guilty for doing this. He says I played "the game". Whatever anyone does in a relationship to keep the person they love is apparently part of "the game". Or if they're trying to get what they want, they play "the game".

I hate it. So, so much. Fuck the game. I don't want to play. stop saying that I already am. I don't want to.

Finally I asked, did he regret the choice to stay with me? No. He doesn't. So I don't see why he has to make me feel bad about it. I don't know that he does it intentionally. But it's awful.

There is only one person in this world that I wish was a bad person. Her. If she was a bad person then I might feel like a savior rather than just the poor bastard that came after her. The woman he feels he'd be perfect for, now that he's the man he feels he was when they first met.

Erggh. I wish she was a cylon. Or a cannibal. Or a serial killer.

Just so I could feel like I wasn't second string.

That's terrible.

Ah well. I hope some day he can love me like he loved (loves?) her. And I have to remember that there isn't just one perfect person out there for everyone. We fuck up sometimes. We do something that makes it impossible for a previously compatible pair to continue on. And then we have to move on to somebody else, to see if they too are compatible.

God forgive us the things that we do. And/or think.....