Sexy Tiemz: Strangely Lacking in Sexy

The Upstairs Neighboors, or; SHOULD I CALL THE POPO?

2012-02-08T15:52:00.001-05:00

Last night, as I lay day dreaming of my perfect (escapist) world where I rock and listening to the soothing tones of Winger's 'Seventeen', I thought I heard a scream. Being a person who walks out of horror movie scenarios unscathed at least weekly, I immediately paused the music and listened for signs that we had entered the twilight zone.

What I heard instead was the upstairs neighboors fighting. Loudly. Obnoxiously, even. I must admit I listened in. When people fight around me I feel obligated to pay attention in case the police need to question me later. And since I heard her through Kip's wails of lust for a 17 yr old I figured murder could be on the menu. Like I said, I was practically obligated to listen.

So I did, until like 2:30 am when one of them left and I passed out. When I woke up this afternoon, I thought my hostess with the mostest was watching one of the Madea movies I brought her (again) because I could hear fighting from my guest room. However, to my surprise when I entered the living room I found that the TV was off and the upstairs people were fighting again and had been since like 9am.

Oh. Who has that much to fight about, really? All I heard of them fighting was "I'm not doing anything" and "you're just mad that I work more hours" so I'm theorizing that he thinks she's cheating but, honestly? I don't even care anymore. I just want them to shut up now. They're more annoying than the hell cockatiels.

By the way, you know a bird really fucking hates you when it hisses at you. Yeah.

The Hell Cockatiels

2012-01-02T17:43:00.000-05:00

Yeah, so. I fail pretty hard at updating here, huh? I wish I could say it's because of my flourishing social life, but I really don't go out much. I'm just a lazy bitch. Sorry.

Karma catches up with you, though. Or me, as the case may be. Today I was getting out of my FWB's car and almost slipped. He told me to be careful and I was like, whatever. Like you even care if I fall. Aaaand I shut the door and walked away, then he pulled away and I ... slipped on the ice and fell on my ass.

At which point I decided to just sit there, out of spite. Like, yeah, fuck you Ice. You didn't make me fall. I let you trip me because I wanted to sit on your cold, dirty surface for awhile. I like having dirty wet jeans, and an aching ass. You did me a favour. Feelin' pretty dumb now, aren't ya? I even pulled out my phone and started texting, just to make sure that Ice knew I was unaffected by it's douchery.

I have no life without Allie; Or, THIS POST IS FULL OF RANDOM STORIES

2011-12-06T13:11:00.001-05:00

So, I haven't updated in awhile and that's because I've been with Allie. Being with Allie is fun, and I love her and we have adventures, but it also means that I have no time to write posts about all the things we do. Except for that I do right now, because I haven't seen Allie in two days, and probably won't see her for quite awhile longer.

I suppose I should start waaaay back at the beginning of the set of barely connected stories I'm about to tell you. A little after my last post Allie showed up at my house one morning after work with 2 calfs. Calves? Baby cows. And we ended up taking them all the way to where she has her other cow, which is a farm like 45 mins from here. While we were there the woman who owns the farm was getting ready to have a friend of hers kill her turkeys for the holidays. I was both excited and horrified.

Allie didn't really want to stay and watch but for some reason decided to do so anyway. They ended up killing 2 turkeys and like 3 chickens (which I totally got to have feathers from!) and it was.... Bloody. The first turkey the guy (who we now refer to as Matthew Turkey-Killer) killed he just strung up by the feet and slit it's throat. The second turkey he got a little showy and decided to put the turkeys head in half of a milk carton and chop it's head off. Which would have been kinda cool, actually.

Except that he didn't really secure the turkey, and the hatchet was dull as shit. So what could have been awesome was actually just awful cuz he had to chop the poor turkey like 4 times before he got the head off. I have to admit that even though I was all 'Aw, poor turkey', a small part of me was all like 'YESSSSS, BRING ON THE CARNAGGGGE'. Then he did the chickens, then he stood around flirting with Allie, then we went home. Oh, and somewhere around all that I had to chase down an escaping calf. Please try not to laugh too loudly when you picture that.

The next story is unrelated to the first in anyway, but related to the last in what I consider to be a big way. Thanksgiving. During the day I went with Allie to her house to help her brother, Jesse, fix the pipe thing on their wood stove. I went in first and Allie was supposed to follow with the stuff, but apparently she fell asleep? So for like an hour Jesse and I sat around being cold, wondering what Allie was doing out there, flirting, and talking about my issues with time travel movies (which are many).

What's most important here in this story is my supercrush on Jesse (which is completely at odds with my whole new outlook on life), and the fact that he kissed me before he sent me out to get the stuff out of Allies truck so we could just do the pipe ourselves. It's not really important yet, but it will be. So, after that we went to my house for dinner, and had a blast with my family and watched Back to the Future. What were the odds? And of course when I brought up all the things that just make no sense I was told to STFU and enjoy the movie. Apparently I over think things? Whatever. What do you guys know? I mean, time travel is a paradox. Just think about it.

If you build a time machine and go back to the past to fix something, then you never had to build a time machine because nothing was ever wrong. But then you never built the time machine so you never went back in time to fix the past, so you have to build the time machine to go back and fix the past. Wash, rinse, repeat. IT CAN'T HAPPEN, THERE'S NO WAY TO ACHIEVE IT. Unless you create an alternate timeline, but that doesn't help you at all. Specifically, in Back to the Future Marty's memories should have changed as he was affecting the past because it was already changing the future! But not only does that not happen, when he does get back to the future he has an entirely different life that he doesn't remember at all. HOW IS THAT EVEN POSSIBLE?

Ok, back on track. The next notable story is my day on the farm. Allie does farmwork for an older couple sometimes, and this time she brought me along. She told me we were mucking out stalls, and we'd only be there a couple hours at the most. I suppose I don't have to tell you that that's not how it worked out at all. Before we could muck out anything, we had to move the sheep. Which means we had to unbuild their pens, and rebuild them on another part of the fence. Awesome.

I HAVE NO IDEA HOW BUILD A SHEEP PEN. I can't be left unsupervised to use the spring looking thing to secure the piece of fence to the other piece of fence because I've never even seen a spring looking thing before. When he came back it turned out I had it upside down the whole time, but that's my point, exactly! So after a few hours of that it started raining, and we went to go work in the barn. The first thing that needed to be done in the barn was that the hay in the front needed to be moved over the side. So Allie climbs up the ladder, and both she and the Kindly Older Farmer look at me expectantly.

I am terrified of heights. Heights, and bugs. So... I had to be walked through going up the ladder. I'm not even kidding. And then once I got up there, I had to go up to the higher part in the front and I went to step on a beam to climb up and it fucking broke. I freaked out, much to Allie's amusement. I finally got up there, and I managed to do what needed to be done, until it was time to get back down. I needed to be walked through going back down the ladder. It was all of 7 steps, y'all.

In addition, I had to drive the 4x4, and use a pitch fork to muck out sheep and goat poop (which got on me), and climb into the sheep's little house to spread out the hay. The whole time the K.O.F is like, laughing at me. At one point I stopped, and just looked at him and said "I'm just a city girl trying to survive in a country world," which ....just made him laugh more.

The last story is really less of a story and more me ranting about how life isn't fair. Jesse has, like, a girlfriend now. Right? That's where the flirting/kiss thing from earlier comes in as important because in addition to that, we also have huge tickles fights, and lots of UST (that's Unresolved Sexual Tension for those who don't have a fandom). And I was upset at first but now I'm just kinda mad, and for two reasons. Why the fuck would you do that to someone you know has a huge crush on you and is also your best friend, for one? And for two this isn't the first time he's done this! I mean, granted at that time I had a boyfriend (remember when I told you I almost cheated? That was with Jess.) but still.

I've come up with a complicated metaphor to describe our situation. In this metaphor, I am a horse. A belgian, like Belle's horse in Beauty and the Beast. Jesse's affections are a carrot which he dangles in front of me. Like any good horse, I am initially wary. But much coaxing and laughing and tickle fighting makes me want to try to get the carrot. Which he then pulls away and gives to another horse. A prettier horse. An... Arabian, or ... an Appaloosa... or something... Is that even a kind of horse? Anyway, the cycle then starts over after that horse eats their carrot. BUT, recently I've realized that the steady supply of satisfactory (I fucking love alliteration) hay I receive is better than chasing after a carrot I can never have.

Did you all follow that? That's ok, I made you a visual guide.

Makes perfect sense now, right?

One Month Later; OR, YAY, IT'S JUDGING TIIIME!!!

2011-11-19T15:46:00.000-05:00

I just want to open this by saying that I am fucking hungry, and I can't be held responsible for anything I may type. We're kiiinda broke, and I'm kiiinda jobless so right now I'm living on the kindness of strangers (and by strangers I mean Allie and my other friends) and whatever I can find in the freezer that I can also put in the deep fryer.

Today, oddly enough, is one month since my illicit sexual adventure with KFC. I couldn't think of anything else to blog about, so I figured now would be a good time to let y'all judge my sexual morality. Right? I know, I'm so generous. The Internet loves to judge people.

When Allie first started pimping me out, I was worried I was going to turn into a jaded lady person who'd pretty much have sex with anyone and never love anyone ever again cuz I'd always love Brandon. I know that sounds really dramatic, but I worry about everything, so it makes sense I'd jump to such a conclusion. Except, you know, I will have sex with pretty much anyone (within reason of course, haha). And I really don't feel so inclined to ever fall in love again. I don't really fit the definition of 'jaded', but all in all I feel way more ok with that scenario now that I did a month ago.

I can sense your judgment right now, even before publishing this post.

I wouldn't really have sex with anyone. Like, anyone who rates a 4 or higher on the 'Might be a deranged Serial Killer' meter is obviously out. Guys who are way too young or old for me are out. I would say that guys who are douchebags and/or assholes are out but they actually seem to be my type. At least the semi charming ones. Girls are totally out. I don't even like my own lady parts, no way I'm touching someone else's. No offense to those who do like lady parts.

I got bored writing this after that paragraph and went to the bar with Allie and her mom. BEST DECISION I HAVE MADE IN SOME TIME. Cuz there's this guy. He's married, so we've codenamed him James. I gave him road head a few weeks ago, and then we had plans to uh, do the dirty the next night but he had to work and I haven't really seen him since. Til tonight. He was at the bar with his wife, which was awkwardsauce. I seriously could only have felt more awkward if KFC and his gf had shown up OR if my ex and his gf had shown up.

And of COURSE since she was there I couldn't stop staring. I tried to be subtle, but I most likely failed because I MADE EYE CONTACT WITH HER, Y'ALL. It was about half a second, but I felt like she was reading my mind, and knew all the dirty things I wanted to do (and had done) with her husband. It really made me question the morality of what I had done... for like 3 seconds. Then the three of were cracking jokes about it in hushed voices.

And then she left. Without James. Allie gave me that look, the one that means 'you go outside with Steve and have some beer while I work my pimp magic'. And she did. I just got home, and let me tell you. I have had sex with 5 men in my life now, 4 of them within the last month, and that was pretty much the best ever. But because this blog is strangely lacking in sexy, and not strangley abundant in it, I will stick to the awkward parts, cuz ... Well, no matter how great it was, I was still a part of it.

The FIRST awkward thing that happened was.... Well, it was pretty awkward, ok? So, Me and Allie and Sheila were one one side of his truck while he was on the other, peeing. Sheila was dared to go check him out, if you know what I mean, and she's never been one to turn down a dare. Especially when drunk. And then he dared any one of us to go down on him, right there. I was volunteered, and my pride refused to let me chicken out. And I may also have been a little drunk. So I did it. So awkward to hear one of your best friends and your adopted mom converse with a man who's genitals are in your mouth. And then they left. But first they had to hug him. WHILE I WAS STILL DOWN THERE. Now the rest in letter format!

Dear James,

I cannot talk dirty to you and go down on you at the same time. I can barely even talk and chew gum at the same time without choking (and you had plenty to choke on). I feel like this was really unfair of you, considering that all that was required of you was not driving into a ditch. Also? You may have noticed, but I really suck at talking dirty anyway. You can tell because 90% of what I said was actually questions. ('Um, I like it a lot?')

Also also, please don't ask me stupid and irrelevant questions while I am otherwise occupied. I have no idea of this street is a dead end, I can't even see where we are. You're driving, I expect you to handle that sort of thing. I also don't know where I live in correlation to where we are (see the above italic statement). I don't wanna talk about Allie, her mom, or your wife, and no I'm not mad at you for wanting to have sex with people who aren't me. However, I do appreciate you letting me know that your wife's spy might have been tailing us. That was exciting. -_-

And. Although I have no complaints about the sex itself, your truck is so not big enough for that shit.

All in all though, it wasn't nearly as awkward as it could have been (and has been before). Sorry about no pictures, but really, would you guys even wanna see that kind of thing? I ALSO apologize for any typos, but it's 3:30 am and I am going to bed.

Country Living II, or; AM I DEAD YET? PLEASE SAY YES

2011-11-09T20:00:00.000-05:00

I wasn't sure if I wanted to write about this or if I should give you guys a chance to judge my sexual morality a little more, but I decided to go with this one for now. There's always time for judging later. Remember my knockout friend Allie? Of course you do, everyone does. She has horses. A lot of them, something like 22 altogether. She's really good at riding, she actually just got an award recently for ... something. I don't know anything about horses. I can barely get on one (Or stay on one, but that's a whoooole 'nother story).

But remember how she also kinda makes questionable life decisions? In this case I think that's the whole having 22 horses thing. She's had to move them something like 3 times now, and I'm so lucky cause this last time I was around to help. I don't know how much I end up revealing about my inner self through my writing (I'm guessing it's a lot, though) but I don't really like dirt. Or trees. Or rocks. Or leaves, or grass, or bugs, or sunshine, or really anything that might be nature-y in nature. Unfortunately, Allie and her family, Jesse (her brother whom I have an insane and obsessive crush on) and Sheila (her mom) are exactly my opposites. So when the fence had to get put up for the new area we found for the horses I was number one on the list of people who were going to help. Cuz we're family. And stuff.

Not that I mind helping! I love them and they love me and I am glad to help. It's just that the idea of being out in nature and helping with something that sounds (to a girl who grew up in Rochester, and thought it was super exciting to see the downtown cops on horses as a kid) as intimidating as putting up a fence was well, intimidating. Duh. I make awkward sentences, sorry. Anyway. The first day it was supposed to be me, Jesse, Allie, Sheila, my cousin Marty, and Bradly. Bradly. Asshole. But of course since men are awful and unreliable it was just us ladies that showed up.

And the true hell that is nature was revealed to me.

First of all, apparently ticks are really bad this year? So every 20 minutes or so we had to do a 'tick check'. Please try to imagine the most smug tone possible when I tell you I've yet to have a tick on my person. Second, the area we got for the horses is... big. And woodsy. And there's a snomobile trail, but obviously we can't put the fence there, so we had to forge our own path through the grass. And I used the word grass, but what I really meant was 'Idon'tevenknowwhatkindofnaturethisisbutit'stallerthanIamWTF' and also 'ohgodIthinkthere'ssomeinmymouthI'mgonnagag' with a little bit of 'I'llhavetopeeoutherebutthenthetickswilljumponmyvajayjay:"(' Thankfully, as a useless city girl most of my job the first day was to follow along cracking jokes with Marty as Allie and Sheila scouted around and decided where the fence would go. Oh, and push in the fence posts which...not hard, like at all. But it still took 3 hours. Three loooong, hungry hours.

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The SECOND day, it was me, Sheila and Asshole Bradly while Allie took the trailer and transported the horses to the area that was already fenced in. Since we were out 2 people, I had to carry the wire this time while Sheila hammered in insulators for the electric fence to the trees from the day before and Bradly used the chainsaw to make everything look neat and pretty. But... The wire is like 50 lbs., and I'm just a city girl, you know? Not to mention that I have to walk backwards with the roll of wire to keep it from kinking, including walking over rocks, crawling over and under pine trees and through grass as tall as me. I don't suppose I have to tell you that I fell. More than once.

But I did good! Sheila told me so, and I was pretty proud of myself. That feeling was not to last, however. Sheila had to leave for work which left just myself and Asshole Bradly. Bradly and I are are the kind of friends where one person in the friendship actually strongly dislikes the other 90% of the time, and that other is utterly unaware of that fact (I actually have an alarming number of friends like that in my life). He is the one being disliked, just to clear that up. He's mostly just a dick, the kind that has to one up everything you say. But what you need to know about this particular encounter with the Bradly Beast is that I had recently asked Bradly if he would be interested in having sex with me once or twice, and gotten an unsubtle dodge in response (Hey look, you get to judge my sexual morality anyway!). He's not very smooth.

In the space of time it took for Sheila to disappear into the woods toward her truck I was demoted from 'Proud Helper' to 'Bitch Carrier of Bradly's stuff while Bradly does all the work'. Which considering how proud I was of being useful kinda pissed me off. Like, a lot. Not to mention he decided to take this time to make sure I knew that I was strictly in the Friend Zone. Which is fine, you know? It happens. But it started to wear on my nerves when he started reminding me of it every 20 mins or so (increasingly harshly!) for the next. Two. Hours. In between slinging normal insults, of course.

Finally I was just like, ok, know what? I'm gonna go sit on that stump over there and listen to my music, real loud. If you cut off your arm or something try to let me know, and I'll try and get you some help before you bleed to death. Then I got sick of looking at his face and went to go tie the pretty ribbon on the soon to be electrified parts of the fence. It actually took a lot longer than I thought, when Bradly finally came and found me it was close to dark. I'm glad he didn't decide to take the dick road and leave me in the woods alone. In the dark. I probably would have freaked out.

Country Living, or; OH GOD, I'M GOING TO DIE, ARENT' IT?

2011-10-26T18:40:00.002-04:00

When I first moved here to the middle of nowhere, NY and before B moved in with me I had 2 built in friends that I had known for a few years from summer visits. I was grateful, because I am not good at making friends. Jesse and Allie are brother and sister and although they are both my besties (I make myself sick with some of the words I pick up) our relationships are so very, very different. I'll get more into the differences later, but one thing they have in common when it comes to our friendships is their ongoing struggle to to turn me into a dirt loving country girl.

I realize that I'm still living in NY, in fact quite close to Canada, but for some reason everyone here is obsessed with how redneck/country they are. I don't even know, but it's actually kind of... Well, infuriating at times. Anyway, at first they were doing really well with this transformation thing. I was wearing steel toe boots, and riding horses, and getting dirty. That last one was a particularly hard one for them to win. I fucking hate dirt. I helped Allie feed and water her horses (and did it alone when she was sick), and I stood around and pretended to care what Jesse was doing under the hood of his truck. Cars are a mystery to me, and will be forever.

In all honesty, I didn't mind it. It felt kinda ... Uh, freeing? I don't really know how to describe it. But two things happened that mostly put a stop to it all. The first was the Beer Incident, which I don't wanna talk about and the second was B moving in with me. Not that I'm blaming him! I was ecstatic that he was finally gonna be with me again, it's just that we were a hardcore 'we'. We did almost everything together, and hating to be apart was mutual. At least, you know, I think it was? I guess I'll never know now? Anyway, the point is I couldn't be attached to him AND out with Jesse and Allie all the time so my transformation kinda stopped. And then reversed itself.

But ever since I've been back here after the break up I've been falling back into the 'country girl' role almost automatically. The day I got back Allie asked me to come help her feed the horses, and I had nothing better to do (undoubtedly the reason she asked me), so I was like sure. I found my old steel toe boots, and I we went to get the hay and I got dirty, then we went to feed the horses and the wind flew hay all in my hair and face. And I have to say, I actually felt more 'myself' that day than I have in awhile. And Allie pretty much hasn't left my side for the entire week I've been home so far, except to go to work. She's a good friend.

She just makes ...questionable decisions. When I go out and about and something un-routine happens, or if where I'm going is un-routine, I call it an adventure to make myself feel better about having a life where I need to do that. I have had MANY adventures since I got home. The first one was actually KFC, haha.

But the next night Allie and I went to Turners, which is a local bar with awwwwwsome chicken wings. We only stayed to say hi to Jesse and a couple people, because Allie had an adventure planned for us. And when I say adventure, I mean she set us to star in a fucking horror movie (Why does my life so often bring me to the subject of horror movies?). She told me we were going to a small party at the house of a guy she knows from work. From what I can tell, when she said 'party' she meant 'there will be 2 guys there'. When she said 'house' she meant 'small cabin in the middle of the woods', and when she said 'guy she knows from work' she meant 'and by the way those two guys? They're drunk redneck farmers'.

This was pretty much the cabin.

The best (worst) part happens when we get there though. They offer Allie a beer, but she deflects and says that I want one. They spend the next hour and a half flirting with Allie, trying to convince her to drink, telling her to spend the night, etc. For my part I'm just kinda there. That's usually my role when I'm with Allie and anyone with a y chromosome. She finally agrees to a beer to shut them up, but only drinks a little of it, because she has to drive us home. She handed it off to the guy she knows from work, and I noticed (because I have motherfucking HAWK EYES) that he didn't drink it. He set it on the table behind him. Not long after she decided it was time for us to go, and this was met with another round of 'no, stay. Take your friend home, sure, but come back and spend the night!'

Ouch, jeez. But she declines, and we eventually are on our way, except... She's acting weird. We sat in the middle of the road for a bit while the one dude looked for his cell phone in the back of the truck, and she was giggling and talking nonsense and just very not herself. I was immediately suspicious, but more focused on the fact that we didn't know if we had the gas to make it home, and the road we were on was just... Fucking Creepy. She kept acting weird and wired the entire ride home. We did make it though, however barely.

I had a suspicion that something had been put in her beer, so I asked her if her beer had been open or not when he gave it to her. She was all, yeah it was open, why? I could have slapped her. Just... ugh. You see what I mean about questionable decisions? But it gets better (worse)! A couple nights ago we went to Turners again. We were only there for the length of time a couple games of foosball requires, but it was enough time for Allie to decide she needed her partners number.

Except that she was too scared to get it herself. So we spent 20 minutes arguing over which one of us was going to go get it. In the end, of course, it was me. Another awkward affair. I just kinda stood there until I was noticed, and was like 'Um... You know my friend, that you were just playing foosball with? She wants your number? But she's afraid to ask you for it....' And, of course, he gave it cuz Allie is a knockout. She texts him almost immediately, and somehow she ends up inviting him and his friends to a bonfire at my house? Four of them! Her foosball partner (Mike), my foosball partner (Craig), her partners brother (...Rrrr..andy? He spent most of the time asleep in the truck), and their friend (Ryan).

There was some drinking, and a lot of talking and we may or may not have done something less than exemplary. Mike is badass on guitar and loves music, so we talked about that for like five minutes, and the rest of the time the three of them basically spent trying to get Allie naked in some way. Despite this she thought that it would be a great idea to go spend the night at their camp when they finally had to leave. Yeah. So, I had to go, to make sure nothing happened to her.

Allie cuddled and slept in Mike's bed. They tried to get me to cuddle with Craig but A. he was passed out cold and I wasn't gonna just like, sneak into his bed and B. I don't really make a habit of sleeping with guys I just met, sexually or otherwise. I stayed up until like 7 o' clock (which included listening to Robin Williams yell 'Good Morning, Vietnaaaaam! for like half an hour because my wicked cute foosball partner wouldn't wake up to his alarm.) before falling asleep for like an hour and a half. And not even like good sleep. Like, 'This attic is so cold I think if I stop shivering I will die' sleep.

And then in the morning? Allie turned down delicious smelling breakfast Mike's mother was making AND the gas we needed to get home because it 'felt weird'. We ran out of gas JUST out of sight of their camp and had to wait 45 minutes for her boss to bring us some.

The pain just keeps coming :(

2011-10-25T12:36:00.000-04:00

So my ex, who dumped me because he needed to spend some time living life as a a single guy because he's only 22 years old and blahblahblah, has a new girlfriend already. And she's really hot. And I ... Kinda feel like shit, haha. Way more than kinda, actually. When I found out last night I just wanted to die. I didn't die, and I didn't cry, but damn that shit hurts.

She's actually, I think, the exact girl that I was worried about him leaving me for the entire time, which... Yeah, even ouch-er, right?

I think the thing that's bugging me most is how I can't yell at him or start a fight, or that even if I could he wouldn't give a shit because he's happy with his new girl and who the fuck cares what I say/think/do?

I don't really know if I should even tell this story, OR; I DON'T REALLY KNOW IF I SHOULD EVEN TELL THIS STORY!

2011-10-22T15:23:00.001-04:00

See... the thing is, I don't know how many people that I know IRL read my pathetic excuse for a blog. And I don't know how many of them know that I am me, and not a random denizen of the internet. And I don't know if the story I want to tell you will completely change the opinion of those people who know who I am as far as... you know, like, whether I am an awful person.

Additionally, do you guys remember my breakup post? You remember how bad you felt for me as I described how sad I am and how much I miss my little hunny bunny (how long has it been since I called him that, omg)? Thanks, I was really sad for me, too. I still am, kinda, in a numb way. And that's the thing. I feel mostly numb now, and I don't know if that's normal at this stage in my break-up, or if my strangely-sexy-for-a-blog-that's-strangely-lacking-in-sexy story has altered the path of my healing process for the worse. I make really long and awkward sentences, wtf. Then again being awkward is kinda what I do. Anyway, back on topic, I feel like telling this story (even though it's several days old now) right after telling that story makes me seem.... coldhearted and, and, and.... Slutty.

Not that I consider myself slutty. I think sex is normal, and healthy. I believe women shouldn't be judged for being sexual creatures or having multiple partners or having a higher than average libido/sexual appetite. I'm just worried YOU'LL think that about me. Even those of you that I KNOW know me IRL and know who I am. I don't mean to imply you're judgmental, I just don't knooooow.

I feel obligated to tell this story though, because, well. It was actually preeeeety awkward and hilarious when you remove all the sexy. And as we discussed, awkward is just how I roll. Sooo, I guess that if you know me ... read at your own risk? And don't blame me if you find yourself judging me, cuz I totes warned you. I have no idea what I'm gonna do for stick figures on this one....

On October 19th at approx. 2 am I received a text from Facebook saying that someone had sent me a message. The message said "Hey u. Text me I want to talk. 555-5555" The Looney Tunes always used that phone number when I was a kid. I knew him, but hadn't spoken to him for like, a year. Holy shit, a year? Really? Wow. I always had a tiny little crush on him, even though he's kiiind of an asshole. A charming and sexy one though? I thought about not texting him, cuz it was like ... 2 am and all, not to mention my extreme paranoia that everyone in the world is playing a prank on me all the time. But I did.

Let's hope I never go into graphic design.

I'm not stupid, I knew what he meant by 'hang out' before he asked about 'playing'. Playing is what I called it when I first became sexually active so I felt kinda like a giddy teenager for this whole thing. Of course, I'm kinda panicking cuz I've never had sex with anyone but my ex before, nor had it ever required being picked up at the end of my driveway at 2am. So I texted Andi, who's demon children I used to babysit and told her what was going on and was like WAT DO?! She warned me he had a girlfriend but otherwise to do what I wanted as long as I was in control of my situation.

YEAH. That's right, I said he has a girlfriend. Not too proud of that, but... No, I really have no defense. I deserve anything you think about me for that. I just went with it. This is where the story really gets kind of awkward and hilarious, and it starts almost immediately, so strap in. By the time this really got started it was like 3am, and I had to wake up Allie (you'll meet her more in the next few posts), who was spending the night, so she didn't wake up and freak out cuz I was gone.

He went past my driveway, so he had to turn around, and while he was doing that I was was walking down to meet him so he didn't miss it again. Of course I made it down there just as he was going by. Luckily he was going slow enough that he saw me .... trip over my own feet and land on my ass.
-_- Awesome

I get in the car and we make awkward small talk which includes me telling him that I've only ever had sex with my ex, and that I'm really nervous, and whatever else spews out of my mouth. I'm a nervous talker. I ask him where we're going, and he says 'a place'. Ohhh, god. What I have done? We keep driving down my road, and turn on the bridge, and then drive some more, then turn again. We only drove like MAX 10 mins, but we were getting further and further from a place where it it was populated (at least, as populated as it gets here where I live). At this point I'm starting to wonder if I decided to lighten up and live a little, or if I decided to walk into a horror movie and break all the rules.

This is pretty much the road we were driving on.

I decide to make the horror movie option awkward for him by bluntly asking if he was gonna murder me and leave me in the woods. He assured me that was not on his agenda, but I felt better having potentially called him on his plan. We finally got to this mysterious place, which apparently is like a gravel area that leads to a hunting trail. Verrry reassuring. He pulls in, but it's more of a swing and he almost gets stuck on the edge of the gravel. Not wanting to get stuck, he backs up... and promptly gets stuck. Yeeeaaaah boooy.

So, we spend a few minutes trying to determine if we're kinda stuck or really stuck before he suggests we worry about it later. I am agreeable to this, so we hop in the back. Not as easy as I just made it sound. My side of the car was right above the gravel drop off, so I almost fell getting out, and and to jump/climb into the back. The awkward was ratcheted up a whooole lot once he got in.

Now, as awkward and amusing this has all been so far, sneaking out in the middle of the night to get it on with a guy who's an awkward friend at best and my good friends ex boyfriend at worst (OH, DIDN'T I MENTION?) apparently really revs my engine. So to save you any squicky details, it was pretty awesome despite uh, him not being B. I was surprised by how easy it was, really. Something about sex with him really clicked with me. Or maybe sex just clicks with me. I don't really have the experience to be certain either way.

Ok, so we get dressed, and get back in front, and .... remember that we're stuck. Haha. A good 45 minutes we spend trying to get unstuck, and he's just getting more and more pissed. We tried me pushing, him pushing, and all the while his front tire is just spinning further and further into the gravel. Eventually KFC decides we need help. In the form of Triple A. So, he calls them and tries to describe our situation, and I'm standing a bit away from the car trying not to laugh at everything and make him mad at me rather than just the car.

Triple A tells us it's a 45 minute wait and they'll call us when they're five mins away. So... we had sex again. Really, what else were we gonna do? It was even better the second time. Afterwards Triple A calls us back and says that they can't find anyone to come get us right now (it's like 4:30/5 am.), but they'll call us when they find someone.

KFC decides again that he's going to get us unstuck himself. But this time he really does it! Yay! He drives me back home and on the way up the driveway I say "Next time if you don't wanna go far there's a field right up there." Maybe it was presumptuous on my part (especially considering he hasn't texted me since?), but he said "You wanna go up there?", and somehow we ended up parked up there. For like an hour. Just talking. We talked about his ex, and hunting, and paintball, and what he made for dinner.... I won't say I didn't enjoy talking to him (even though I mostly did a lot of listening, but that's always been my role), but I haaate to get attached when I don't even know if he's gonna talk to me again, you know?

My Celebrity Ghost Story; Or, OMGDUDEBRODIDYOUHEARTHATCUZIDID!?!?!

2011-10-18T16:14:00.000-04:00

What? I have a blog, that makes me a celebrity, right? Right, I agree. So you totally wanna hear my story, right? See? I know you so well. That's why you keep coming back.

It's actually kind of a stupid story, not gonna lie. Between the ages of 13 and 18 I had a grand total of six friends. Ed, Pixie, Derek, Michi, Alecks, and of course B. Pixie's the only one of those people in this story, but I need to beef up the length of this post cuz it's actually gonna be a little short. Pixie and I are still BFF's for life, and at the time (we were approx 14/15) we wanted sleepovers ALL the time. Like, our parents worried we were lesbians, we spent that much time together. That was fine with my parents (they're ridiculously accepting of everything their children do, even if it's somewhat detrimental to the children), but sooooo not with hers (they're ridiculously conservative and controlling. Just my opinion as an observer and one time being on the receiving end.) That being the case it was hard to get her parents to agree to sleepovers. We got reeeeeaaally good at trying to find loopholes in the rules. Not that it ever did us any good.

Anyway, my story happens during one of our coveted sleepovers. This one was at my house, but they usually were, really. We were going to be sleeping on the pullout bed in the living room. Now, my house is set up thusly (I'll give you a visual guide too, so go ahead and let your eyes glaze over) From my living room you can look into the dining room which has big wooden sliding door to separate them, and into the computer room which is separated by an invisible hallway made by the door to the front porch and the doorway to the kitchen. On this occasion the sliding doors were shut. From the living room you can also see the stairs and most of the landing. You can't see the kitchen but you can see part of the door way.

You can start paying attention again now. Alright, now, Pixie and I are on the pullout bed watching TV with my sister S, who's on the adjacent couch. I have no idea what we were watching. As we watch, I see my youngest sister K (lets see, she's 15 now, so... she was like 6/7, maybe? My math skills are shit) run down from the landing, to the computer room, around the couch and bed and plop down in front of the TV on the floor. Running everywhere is normal for her, she has way more energy than anyone ought to, and at the time she was short enough that from our angle I couldn't see the top of her head.

So about an hour later, K comes in from the kitchen and I kinda freak out. S and Pixie are also kinda freaking out, and K asks us what our problem is. We ask her (we're the type to answer questions with questions) where she just came from, and she tells us she's just come home from playing at the neighbors house. We kinda flip our shit, and quickly confirm that we all thought K had been watching TV with us.

There's no way she could have gotten up and left without all of us seeing her. She would have been right in front of the TV, and she had been over there at the neighbors all day anyway. When I remember it all now what I see is a brown, girl shaped blur. I can see why I assumed it was K, she's always running and she has long brown hair.

Since this post is so short, I will also tell you my Ouija board story. It's even dumber though. My mom, and sister, and people I've adopted as brothers over the years, and pretty much everyone I know is into ghosts and the supernatural in some way. Of course my mom got us a Ouija board one year for Christmas, or something. A month or so later my 'brother', Zebi (1 of 5), my mom, myself, S, and my awesome neighbor Nikki decided to play with the thing. At first it said it was my dad, and then it said it was a little girl. The little girl one told us a story that took place hundreds of years before. According to her, she was living in the house next door (the one Nikki didn't live in) when my house was being built and one of the workers got her come over, at which point he raped and murdered her. I know, right? Then she said he buried her body in the basement, but before they poured the cement.

Everyone in our neighborhood (well, everyone then, there are a lot of new people living there now) was pretty well convinced that our house was haunted after that. I've been told that it was Nikki moving the pointer by my sister, and that it was my sister by Nikki. I don't know if I believe it, but I DO know that my sisters bedroom is fucking creepy as fuck and I won't go in there alone without her dog.

This is her dog. Frightening, yes, she is.

This is the Breakup Post, or; SAME GUY SECOND BREAK UP!

2011-10-17T15:17:00.001-04:00

Soooooo, on Oct 8th at approx. 6am my amazing boyfriend called me to let me know that he is now my amazing ex-boyfriend. B and I met when he was 12 and I was 13 going on 14. My sister brought him home with her from school as the first of many childhood boyfriends. She wasn't a very good girlfriend though, because she liked to take off with her friends and just kinda leave him at our house. It was the 3rd or 4th time she left him sitting awkwardly in our kitchen that I asked him a question that would change our lives forever.

"Do you like Final Fantasy?"

Turns out he likes it a lot. I told him I was having a hell of a time beating the first boss battle against Raijin and Fujin. So we went down to the basement game room where he beat them on the first try. Although there was good natured ribbing and retorts that day bonded us as best friends, and it may or may not have been the day I fell in love with him. If it wasn't, that day wasn't far behind.

B and I have (had?) been friends now for ten years, and collectively dating for almost 7. He is an integral part of my life. He is my closest friend. I can and have told him things that I could not tell anyone else in this world. You and I could talk about anything, and I would have a legitimately related story to tell you that involved B. That's how wrapped up in each others lives we are. Were, I guess.... Anyway.

Ahhh, man. I thought this would be like, therapeutic, but it's mostly just making me sad. I'm gonna skip a lot of details here. The first time we broke up for a whole lot of reasons that boiled down to he was bored and cheated on me. This time it appears to be for the same reason minus the cheating (maybe; undecided), plus some "we've been together so long, I need to live life as a single guy.'

And even worse is how confusing he is! I have no idea what he's thinking. He makes it pretty clear with words he feels nothing toward me, not even friendship. And then he turns around and gives me his Xbox and lets me keep his mouse I've been using.

He says to get over him, and that he's been wanting to break up for months, but he didn't act like he wanted to until the day he did it. Like, at all. The day before I left for moms I was worried about getting home and he gave me a bear hug and said that he'd pay for my grandma to come get me, and I was like you'd do that?! And he said Yeah, Babe, of course. I love you.

When I got home yesterday, I discovered that he left behind just about everything I had ever bought or given him; Leather jacket, a hacky sack, clothes, TOOTHPASTE, a pillow I made him. He took the toothbrush I bought to go with the toothpaste though. I used to buy him leopard plushies, and other stupid things, he left all those. He left, apparently, anything he felt he didn't need. An extra computer case, old cell phone, the journal that came with his FF14 game. He left the nasty loogie filled spit cans from when he was sick.

I think the worst part of all of this is my poor dog. She loves him more than anything else on this planet. He's her daddy, when he would leave for work she's run outside and for him. But now I don't know how to explain to her that he's never coming back. She runs around and whines for him, she won't play, she's either at my side or laying down looking sad ALL the time. Idk what to do for her.

I don't know if he like, just needs to get this out of his system? And then he'll be like, oops, still love you, Babe. Did he ever actually love me at all??? Or if he legit feels not a goddamn thing at me and is just fucking with my miiind. And what if I DO get over him (or, more likely, move on without getting over him) and then he DOES want to come back? I've never loved anyone but him in my whole life. Would I be able to say no? Should I? My life is just a maze of fuck and confusion right now.

Gone for a couple weeks

2011-10-01T02:32:00.000-04:00

I now that not many people actually come read this voluntarily, but for those who do, I'm going to be visiting family for the next 2 weeks or so. I don't have an art program or anything like that there, nor do I feel like it's right for me to take over their computer making entries.

I promise I'll come back with more awkward stories. It's pretty much what my life is made of, so. In my absence, please enjoy crappy sketches, and my first digital painting. The following pictures belong to me and are not to be uploaded or used anywhere else for any reason without my permission.

A sketch I've yet to do anything at all with, it's blah.

A request I'm working on for Ai-Sanura on deviant art of her senshi Imperial Sailor Star

A sketch I did as a freebie on gaia

This is my first digital painting ever. Critique is welcome, asshattery is not.

I like making self insert OC's. This one is for Supernatural, Jay Winchester. Yeah, I'm in love with Dean, DO SOMETHIN'.

Costume design for another OC, Batman Beyond this time. Desdemona.

Desdemona in normal clothing. She doesn't have a normal name yet.

My Little (War) Pony, haha. First pony I ever drew.

Just a bad, random sketch.

The Horror Movie Rules or, NOOOOOOO DON'T GO DOWN THEEEEERRREEEE!!!

2011-09-17T21:13:00.002-04:00

It's mid-September now, and for me (and others like me) that means it's almost Halloween. What that means for you is you'll see more creepy-ish themed posts. What that means for me (and others like me) is free candy, ghost stories, and horror movies. It means a lot of other things, too, but those don't matter for the purposes of this blog. There's a whole lot of meaning in this paragraph, and shame on you for not being moved by the sheer meaning of it all.

Free candy, ghost stories, and horror movies are three of my most favorite things on this planet. I've been watching horror movies since I was old enough to watch movies, and that was preeetty young. I'm just saying. I have memories of watching really scary, and sometimes even totally fucked up, movies with my dad (and later all alone :'( ). Once we watched a movie, and ALL I remember about the entire thing is the end, in which a guy cut his hair into the sink and it became worms as it hit the porcelain. It became worms. As it hit. The sink. At which point my father turned to me and said "That's what happens when you chew your hair, it turns into worms in your belly." Needless to say, me chewing my hair was never an issue for him again.

My dad was a troll's troll

Now, when you've been watching horror movies as long as I have you develop a sense for the rules. I'm positive a lot of you already know that because I have googled 'horror movie rules' before, and got like 394,717,401 different lists of them. My sister (you remember her?) and I have our very own version, and I will share them with you in a moment. The problem with knowing the rules, however, is that you live by them. The problem with living by them is that uninformed folk (soon to be dead folk, really) think you are fucking nuts, and don't believe you when you try to warn them of the danger.

I got lazy, this is a partial list.

For instance; my grandmother, henceforth referred to as gma. A few months ago I was watching Legend of the Seeker on netflix with my dog. My amazing boyfriend was at work, earning the money I love to spend. The grandparents we mooch off of were in the next room sleeping, like normal people do at 3:30am. Psh, normal people. Well, as I watched the actors destroy any remaining likenesses to the book, my dog flipped. Her. Shit.

She vaulted off the couch, over to the sliding glass doors (in and of themselves a violation of the rules) and started baying. If you've never heard a beagle bay or howl it sounds kinda like this:

Except my dog is a mix of beagle, lab, and rotti, so it's deeper, and louder. And at the time it was scaring the shit outta me. She had her hair raised up all the down to her tail, and in between her barking I could hear someone outside. They were going back and forth between the glass door and the window. I had the show paused, and was belly crawling over toward the window because my knife was on the stand there, but I didn't wanna bring attention to myself from the person outside.

So, knife in hand.... I sat there and did nothing. Haha! And you're all looking at your screen going, What?! NOTHING?! WHAT IS THIS STORY EVEN ABOUT, THEN?! But hear me out! There is literally nothing else you can do in that situation that will not result in your gruesome death. If you look out the glass doors or go outside to check it out, you will see the monster/killer, have a chase scene in which you make incredibly stupid decisions, and then die. If you run and hide, you will get to your hiding spot and then turn slowly in horror to face the heavy breathing behind you and die. If you run to get someone else, you will find them dead and then you will die also. If you call the police, you have 2 death options. They will come and find nothing, laugh at you/give you a stern warning about prank calls, and then you will die once they are too far to help you. Or, they will come and find something and then you will all die, one at a time.

It's not looking good for me....

Doing nothing and staying alert is really the best you can do. While I was doing nothing, gma woke up. Probably due to her innate sense of a grandchild in danger. Or, you know, the dog barking, whatever. And she went to the glass doors to look out. I tried to warn her. She wouldn't listen to reason! After breaking that rule, she turned to me and said it must have been raccoons. NOOOOO! Why would you say that?! It was the killer, gma! She insisted it was a raccoon. And sure, you know, maybe we have a family of raccoons that dig through all the garbage behind the house sometimes. MAYBE, or maybe there's a killer!

I tried to reason with her, didn't she know that the harder she insisted it was something totally normal like a raccoon the higher our chances of gruesome death rose?! Was she TRYING to get us killed? Didn't she love me? If we died, who would pick up amazing boyfriend from work? I told you we were moochers, shut up.

THANKfully, due to my diligent observance of all the other rules, we managed to escape death that night. What? Yeah, it COULD have been that it was really just a raccoon, but, well... What are the chances, right?

As a bonus, this is my dog.

A closer look at song lyrics; Or, LONG POST IS FUCKING LONG!

2011-09-06T18:00:00.000-04:00

This happens to me a lot. As you may have noticed I tend to over-think things, and song lyrics are no exception. Generally what happens is that I listen to a song, decide I like it and then I start really listening to it. At this stage I start making fun of/discussing with everyone who will pay attention to me the rhymes, metaphors, and what the lyrics are actually saying instead of what they are supposed to mean. There are probably going to be more of this type of post, as I can only think of these two right now.

"Irreplaceable", Beyonce Knowles
Lyrics

I'm sure almost everyone (all 4 of you) reading this has heard this song, and that some of you think it's an anthem of independence. Not unlike my mother, sister, and countless other people I have spoken to about it. So many people completely shut me down when I try to discuss this song with them outside of that view that it really actually kinda pisses me off. But just for the sake of this post, really take a second and listen to what she's saying.

Now, if you are like those countless people I mentioned before, you're going 'YEAH, WHOO, GO BEYONCE. TELL HIM!' And if you are, let me ask you. What is she telling him? 'THAT HE'S NOT IRREPLACEABLE. SHE DOESN'T NEED HIM, HE'S A DIME A DOZEN AND SHE HAS 'EM LINED UP THE BLOCK'. Ok, maybe you aren't shouting at me in call caps, and maybe you got a different general message from the lyrics. But I'm sure we can agree that she's saying he means little to her, and kicking him out is no big deal for her. But, isn't that exactly why she's kicking him out? Because she wasn't 'irreplaceable' to him?

Now, a lot of you are probably pissed at me, right? And you're saying 'No, no, no. She is kicking him out because he's a dirty, cheating, SONOFABITCH.' I'm not an advocate of cheating. If you are one of the people who know me IRL, then you know that I'm so fucking against cheating I've gone kinda over board with it. Like, I actually watch Cheaters, and say that the cheater deserves it and cheer when the fights break out. THAT'S AN AWFUL ATTITUDE, AND I SHOULD BE ASHAMED. Cheating is never right, but I don't know those people. I should not judge those people, and NO ONE deserves to have their lives exposed on television that way. My rabidity is one part having been cheated on, and one part almost cheating after I had been cheated on and hating myself for it.

Anyway, to be more on point. I'm not saying she's over-reacting. I'm not saying she shouldn't have kicked him out. I'm not saying that she was wrong in any way EXCEPT that she states right there in the lyrics that she has ALSO BEEN CHEATING. Oh, where does it say that? Well, aside from cheaping out and rhyming minute with minute, she also says this:

"You must not know 'bout me
I can have another you in a minute
Matter fact, he'll be here in a minute (baby)"

and

"I can have another you by tomorrow
So don't you ever for a second get to thinkin'
You're irreplaceable?"

So, unless she is just that damn good, she had to have had at least the minute guy (I'm willing to give the benefit of the doubt about the tomorrow guy. She IS Beyonce) around before this break up. Which, you know, whatever. He cheated, she cheats, even-steven now get out. Fine. I can get behind that message. It just makes it so hard to stand behind that 'anthem of independence' thing, when she sank right down to his level.

My approximation of you. A lot of you seem to be aliens.

"Good Directions", Billy Currington
Lyrics

This is a country song I've heard only a couple times. I'm not a fan of country, but my boyfriends and my BB4EVER totally is and it's his car so... Now, this came on while we were driving someplace a few weeks ago, and he turned to me and he was like now THIS is a country song even you can agree is good. It's really important to him that I evolve and begin to like country music </sarcasm>.

Honestly, I find country music to be really boring. I can only hear the same life lessons, with the same similar-but-slightly-changed guitar twangs so many times before it's enough. However, this particular song is not a song at all. It's a fucking horror movie.

Haha, again, I can sense that I'm losing you to rage, but hear me out. You listened to the song, and I agree that at first glance it seems like a cute country love song. But look, here are the directions. He sings them like 8 times, because they're important.

"I told her way up yonder past the caution light
There's a little country store with an old Coke sign
You gotta stop in and ask Miss Bell for some of her sweet tea
Then a left will take you to the interstate
But a right will bring you right back here to me"

Pretty simple. He specifically tells her to stop for Miss Bell's tea, and that she wants to go LEFT. Now look at the very next set of lines.

"I was sittin' there thinkin' 'bout her pretty face
Kickin' myself for not catchin' her name
I threw my hat and thought, "You fool, that could've been love"
I knew my old Ford couldn't run her down
She probably didn't like me anyhow
So I watched her disappear in a cloud of dust."

I know, it's cute, right? Except for it's freaking NOT. This man has CLEAR issues. He's mad at himself for not getting her name. He's so mad he throws his hat, and then he thinks to himself that it could have been love. He considers chasing her in his truck. I know you think I'm restating what you just read up in the quoted lyrics, but HOLY SHIT HE KNEW THAT WOMAN FOR ALL OF 2 MINUTES. And then after that he decides fuck it, she wouldn't have liked me anyway. That's a clear issue with self worth, and when you put it all together it spells 'RUN. AS FAST AS YOU CAN, AS FAR AS YOU CAN.'

"Is this Georgia heat playin' tricks on me
Or am I really seein' what I think I see
The woman of my dreams comin' back to me"

These are from the next verse. She went from 'it could have been love' to 'woman of his dreams' in the length of time it took to see (maybe) her car again. And again, it SEEMS really cute, right? She chose to go right, and come back to him, awwwww. Except... Why? Why would she do that? And then at the end of the song he throws you these lyrics right here:

"When she stopped in and asked Miss Bell for some of her sweet tea
Mama gave her a big 'ol glass and sent her right back here to me."

HIS MOTHER, OH GOD, MISS BELL IS HIS MOTHER. The true plot of this horror song becomes clear. She went to the country store, and she doubled checked on those directions BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT SMART PEOPLE DO WHEN THEY SENSE DANGER. But this time it backfired. Miss Bell put god knows what in that sweet tea, and told her that she got the directions wrong, she needs to go right. And this poor woman believes her, because I'd believe another woman over the weird issue riddled guy amongst the turnips; Wouldn't you? Imagine this poor woman's horror as she starts to get drowsy, and then realizes she is coming up on that exact same turnip riddled guy again. And the song just ENDS THERE, we'll never know what happened to her!

The levels of appropriateness in your friendship with your sisters boyfriend; Or, SHIT, AM I ALLOWED TO DO THAT?!

2011-09-02T05:46:00.001-04:00

I have this thing where apparently I can't be nice to people without flirting. It's not my fault. In my view, I'm just being polite. Smile, respond, please and thank you, etc. You know, MANNERS. Apparently, kids today don't know what those are so when I use mine they get confused. I guess it's more like parents today, though. When I was a kid and we went out, my dad would stop us before entering wherever it was and say something like "And mind your manners, cuz if not I'll blister your ass." Not that he ever did, but damn he could be a scary man.

Anyway, at work (back when I still did that ¬_¬) I often was accused of being overly flirtatious. Usually by people who actually were overly flirtatious, just saying, but still. And then they'd bring my cleavage into it, as if manners + minor cleavage = Evil Flirtface. I do/did have some, but at a totally appropriate... uh, rate. Or however you measure cleavage. I was always offended, because I am in no way flirty (nor overly cleavagey), and in fact would never have the confidence (or reason, really) to purposefully flirt (not that there's anything wrong with being flirty) with someone. I don't think I'd have even known how.

How others seem to view my totally appropriate cleavage.

Almost the exact opposite of my sister, S. You guys might briefly remember S from my last post, yes? Our relationship is honestly almost exactly as I described. We love each other very much, but good lord help you if you get between us when we're fighting (It's dangerous, ask my poor mom or Jesse). And fighting doesn't really take much. She will rip your head off at the slightest perceivance of attitude. Nothing wrong with that, except that I, I am a huge smartass. And honestly, I really can't help baiting her sometimes. If your sister is younger, hotter, and meaner than you, but everyone seems to like her more anyway, then you know what I mean. What? It's just me? Oh.

Now, normally I ignore her boyfriends. I have my own (and he's freaking amazing), and most of hers have been shallow assholes. But this one is different. ...Well, sorta. He was kinda my friend before he stopped hanging around our house (the neighborhood hangout house, of course. PARTAY! No, no parties. Sorry.) And we're still kinda friends. We have a similar sense of humor. He's a pretty cool guy (depending who you ask...) and when he is around the three of us can comfortably hang out together. Until they start kissing and shit. They don't care who's around.

Thankfully, my mom apparently has a giant couch.

I'm even friends with him on Facebook, and occasionally we chat there. About stupid shit, or S, or how boring everything in all of everness is. This is where things get kinda tricky (and where all these seemingly random things come together). With my sisters hair trigger, and my propensity to flirt accidentally... How long is it, really, before the shit hits the fan here? Right? Good luck and sister-love can only hold out so long.

Lemme give you a for instance. Just a few days ago I got on Facebook, and he started a chat thing. He was all Hey Jay, and I was all Hey L. At first I was just grateful to have someone to talk to that late at night. Then I realized that it WAS rather late at night. I became uneasy, like, is this ok? Can we talk this late? Do we have a curfew? What if S gets mad? But I brushed it off as paranoia and dramatacism, both of which I'm very prone to. So L goes to bed and I see his status and HAVE to leave a smartass comment. But then I realize if he doesn't see I'm joking it can come across as kind of snotty. Oh, I know! I'll put a heart at the end, for 'haha, just kidding'. And then I hit enter.

And then I FREAK OUT. Why did I do that? Am I ALLOWED to do that? That's not what heart means, I should have said JK. What if S thinks I'm flirting? What if L thinks I'm flirting? Should I delete it? What if I do delete, but he already saw it and then they take that as a sign of guilt? WHY DO I DO THINGS WITHOUT THINKING? I have yet to find the answer and if any of you know you'd be saving me a LOT of trouble. I started looking back over our every interaction. What about that time in the car, and he hit me and I hit him back? What about that time I texted him about the yellow car? What about that time he said something snarky, and I was a smartass? THAT'S EVERY TIME, I'M SO FUCKED.

So far it's fine, though. S never called me screaming, L never called me an evil flirtface. But this has opened my eyes to just how wrong something innocent can be construed. To that end, I have made a neat little chart for you. Now you will never have to have the dramatic, paranoid, panicked thoughts described above. You can know right away whether you're out of line, or you just have manners.

Uh, sorry about all the typos on this thing. Holy crap. I wish I could say I was drunk.

My inability to be feminine as it relates to relating to other women; Or, OMG SHE'S CRYING, WHAT DO I DO!?

2011-08-30T23:02:00.000-04:00

I am not a 'feminine' woman. It's not because I'm a feminist, or because I have issues with gender stereotypes. Those things are both true, but the truth is it's just never been part of me. I'm bad at small talk and gossip, I can't use make-up correctly, I can't walk in high heels. I just don't seem to have the same... instincts? That other women have. I don't know how to comfort, or empathize. I just make a joke, and if they smile? I win. And not that those things are what make you a woman, they're just the feminine stereotypes I lack.

That may sound all well and good, be who you are and all that, but it makes for a whooole lot of awkwardness in my life. My sister breaks up with her boyfriend, I'm the person she calls (cuz we're those oddly close sisters who seem like they hate each other, but then at the end of the movie their sister-love is all that saves the day). And she wants me to say things to make her feel better, but I have no idea what those things are. It's always an awkward affair (alliteration; awesomely accidental) where I say something I saw in a movie and gauge her reaction. Sometimes I just have to switch movies, sometimes I really have to rack my brain for something to say other than 'I'm sorry.' After an hour she just goes to talk to mom, and I feel awful and relieved simultaneously.

True Story.

And there are a lot of women in this world, I can't avoid all of them, so things of that nature happen a lot.

For instance; about a month ago now, I went to visit my mother at her house for two weeks. My mom lives in a small town about 4 hours from me. She lives in a house with her fiance, my two younger sisters, and her fiance's ex girlfriend.

I'm sure you're all wondering exactly how awkward that is for my mom, and the answer is apparently not at all. It's just awkward for everyone else (Oh, shes the ex? Isn't that awkward? I feel awkward now that I know that.). The ex girlfriend, K, she is... Interesting. Her boyfriend stays over a lot, which is my nice way of saying he's basically moved himself in.

On the night in question there was a bit of a fight between them. K was talking really fast as she told my mother and I about it, and I honestly kinda tuned her out so I don't really remember what it was about. I do remember that he had left, and taken all his stuff. I also remember wondering if these adults who were at least in their late 40's could be any more childish.

Hours later, I was listening to some of my moms music on the computer. Totally minding my own business. And K makes her fourth or so trip downstairs for a beer. I was totally going to ignore her, I swear. I'm not the share your feelings type. I'm the escape to a fantasy world where you're smokin' hot type.

This is where I made my fatal mistake. I have no social skills, and I KNOW that I don't. But knowing just makes it worse, because it makes me want to compensate by trying anyway. So I asked her if she was ok. "No," she says, "No, I'm not ok. What if he never comes back? Oh, well, I don't need him. But I like him! What do I doooo?"

My head was spinning from the circular logic, and I heard these words in my voice, "Do you need a hug?" There was a moment, just a second, the kind that seems to stretch on forever. I was desperately trying to figure out WHY I had said that. She was probably trying to figure out if I was sincere. She reached for me, indeed needing a hug. As we embraced awkwardly, I wondered if that would be the end of it.

But no, it couldn't be. Because she was crying. On me. Oh, god, WHAT DO I DO NOW? I needed someone. Some one who knew things, and how to fix stuff like this. I thought of my sister, S, but she was out. Mom! Mom can fix her! "Break ups are hard, I know. I had one once. I bet you'd feel MUCH better of you went up and talked to my mom for awhile." Smile, smile. Full of concern, please buy it, please go upstairs. But nothing is ever easy for me. She looked at me with the biggest, saddest eyes I've ever seen, and said that my mom was sleeping, or else she would.

Big, sad eyes, man.

So...It was up to me? Shit.

When we let go, I again heard my voice coming unbidden from my throat. "Do you want me to come and sit with you?" WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! WHAT ARE YOU SAYING!? I found myself in her bedroom, which is actually MY bedroom. The one my mom said would always be there if I ever needed to come home. She didn't say I wouldn't have to share it, to be fair.

I was in full on panicy-awkward mode. I wondered what you were supposed to say to each other in these situations. Should I tell her he's an ass, and to forget him? Should I say not to worry cuz he'll be back? Are we gonna give each other make overs now? Should that wait til she sobers up? I don't wanna lose an eyebrow...

So I did what I do, and started up utterly unrelated conversation. I had noticed earlier book stuffed in between her dresser and the wall. It was a book about Wicca. Despite being somewhat knowledgeable about that particular subject, I blurted out the thing I'd been wanting to blurt out since I had noticed it. "....So, are you like, a witch?" I'm not sure if it was that she was intoxicated, or if that just happened to be the right thing to do, because she laughed her ass off and explained that no, she wasn't. It was a friends book, and she had forgotten it there. A LIKELY STORY, WITCH WOMAN. No, I'm just kidding. But after about 2 hours of such unrelated conversation, kitten petting, me fixing her cell phone, and sitting awkwardly, she said she felt better and I was allowed to leave.

The worst thing about it though? After alllll that? He came back the next day, AND EVERYTHING WAS FINE BETWEEN THEM.

Happily ever after. It's like sister-love, but they didn't save the world..

A closer look at the purpose of this blog; Or, I HAVE THOUGHTS!

2011-08-28T07:09:00.001-04:00

I've started a blog, as you may know. Since you're here, and stuff. Pretty much the reason this is here is so that I can rant about stuff, and hopefully make some of the poor fools who end up here laugh.

I'm prone to rants, and hating things other people love like Twilight, Harry Potter, Country Music, and twitter. (But if you follow me on twitter, I might throw some witty one liners out from time to time. Just sayin'.) Sometimes I draw, but I likely won't show you because you guys are mean, and I suck at it.

Hopefully this blog will get more amusing as it progresses cuz right now it's just... Awful.