It Occurs to Me...

That last night's post was about as personal as I've gotten in about 2 years. (I say that because come January would have been 2 years for me and the Douche.) We fought one night over the content of these pages.
It wasn't so much that I had written about the things I'd written about...more that I even had these things to write about.
He questioned exactly what I questioned last night. And then asked himself whether he could do better.
I do have self respect. I just have no conditioned response mechanism. In other words, I'd electrocute myself trying to get to the cheese. Repeatedly.
That is not my point.
My point is that I've written something fiercely personal. And I'm a little afraid of how it will make me look. I never felt like that before him. I was pretty comfortable with my foibles and pratfalls and fuckupery.
I've been tempted to delete it.
But no. The risk is letting it shine out there.
This is me.
I am flawed.

One of My Turns

Jesus. He hasn’t even touched me and he just wants to go ahead and stick it in.
I haven’t had an orgasm with a guy in over a year.
Why am I even going through with this?
Aaaaand, he’s done.
Fabulous.
“That was quicker than I’d anticipated.”
“Well, that just means I’m doing my job.”
That’s what I say to exonerate him from his.
Makes it somehow worth it. As if I’m this amazing specimen of woman that even the most accomplished is rendered powerless.
Fools me into believing that I’m not attracting weak men.
Worse, that I’m not settling for weak men.
Worse still, convincing myself that I’m not defective.
He’s gotten up to clean up immediately. No cuddling here. Nope.
I dress quickly.
“I need to get smokes.”
“Do you need me to drop you some where?”
How nice. A one way ride to the store.
I’ve earned a ride to the store
but not back.
What the hell is the matter with me?
Please.
No one to blame but me. Had my standards been higher.
Pain creates bad decisions, The fear of pain almost makes those decisions worse.
Thank you House marathon.
What the hell am I looking for?
Why is it so hard to come by?
And not even an attempt.
Not even a gesture.
I don’t expect it any longer,
Just an attempt to fill a hole.
Not even empty really. Just nothing,
I’ll wake up tomorrow sore.

Do You Have a GIG Tonight? Can I Go to Your GIG? Can I Be on the Guest List for Your GIG??

So, I had the auspicious honor of playing at the Chicago Recording Company's Halloween party. It was really pretty awesomely cool.
I'm getting the hang of this whole live band playing thing.
Our record will be done in a couple of weeks and I'm hoping to have a recording of last night's show pretty soon. All mixed and made pretty by the experts over at CRC. Honestly, it really was like being a rock star...they were so courteous and accomodating.

Anyhoo. I'm wiped.
And now it's time to start amassing my supplies for my oh-so-kick-ass Halloween Costume.

Hey also what just passed by was the one year mark since The Unpleasantness. Actually, I think it was around the 9th or something. Whatever.
Life marches on.

:)

Things Better Left Unsaid

In my world, there is no such thing.
Indeed, 'tis why I am so piss poor at "playing games".
There is a need for me to say whatever it is that saunters it's way through my brain in any given moment. I suppose it could be termed as "Impulsiveness".
But is it really a "Compulsiveness"?
For, am I in fact once again attempting to wrest control by saying what's on my mind to attain immediate reaction in order to avoid not knowing what a reaction will be—a form of lack of control? Is my inability to hold my cards close when it comes to romance due to my latent fear of rejection and therefore I show my hand right away as a means of deflecting said potential rejection?

(pant pant pant)

Control control! I must UN-learn Control.

A Weekend Full of Whatnot

Recording
Last American Virgin viewing...disturbing as all hell.
Dinner
And dreams about zombies.

I'm a Little Worried Now.

I had a dream last night that I repierced my tongue.
My tongue has never been pierced.

To the internets....
(insert batman music here.)

1. A dream of actually holding onto your tongue with your hand, or with your teeth, is an admonition that you could be tempted to reveal too much, and it's time to "hold your tongue."

(Ok, well, I wasn't holding my tongue, but the piercing guy was with that clip thing they use on the navel. So, does that mean I feel as though someone else is compelling me to hold my tongue?)

To see your own tongue in your dream, signifies the things you say and express. You may have said too much or you may need to express yourself.

(what is that I have to say? I'm not sure. I'm sure I've said too much plenty of times. But why would it be on my mind now?)

To dream that you are getting your tongue or lip pieced, suggests that you have said some stinging and hurtful words and are regretting it.

(Ok, for real, if I have said anything recently to upset anyone, I apologize.)

I love when the crazies come back to me.
Sweet.

Kickin' Some Ass

I'm totally taking Karate bitches.
And my teacher is an Olympian.

Fuck yes.

http://www.elitemaf.com

And my job is paying for it.
My job is awesome.

An Open Letter to the Chicago Bears

Dear Bears,

Don't you EVER do that again.. YOU HEAR ME? You had me worried SICK!
I'm glad you're ok, but NEVER AGAIN!

Also, Grossman. Listen up, pal. You looked like a total tool in the post-game interview.
"Wow, I mean, I just can't believe how great our defense is. Man! (Shit eating grin) We are just amazing!"
Let me tell you something. You completely, single-handedly FUCKED our turnover record. Don't give me that goofy smile and pat on your own damn back until you learn how to get that ball out of your hand properly. If I see you spend more than 10 seconds in that pocket again, I'm coming down there and bitch-slapping you upside your dumbass head personally.

Urlacher, my love, you are awesome and you saved us last night. I hope you kicked the shit out of Grossman after the game.

Thank God there's a by-week. My heart cannot handle another game like that. That shit was an anyuerism waiting to happen.

Bad Mood

Apparently as I get older, my mood as affected by the Monthly Miracle stays that way for 2 weeks instead of 1.
I'm ready to shoot someone.

In the face.

Tattoo You

Yeah, so I had a dream about a tattoo last night. It was a big red bullseye with a word written above it, but fuck me if I can remember what it said. I only know that for some reason in order to achieve the bullseye a big solid circle had to be drawn and colored in and then a strip was erased with this burny machine to make the rings. Also, I was freaked out about my mom seeing it as I just got a new tattoo two weeks ago. Also, this was on my right wrist which is where my new one is...but that one jumped over to the left.

What the fuck???
To the internets!
(na na nananana!)

According to Dreammoods.com

Tattoo

To dream that you have tattoos, represents individuality and the desire to stand out in a crowd. You want to be unique and different from everybody else, particularly if you do not have any tattoos in real life. Consider also what the tattoo is.

Um... a big red bullseye.

According to sleeps.com

If you dream you are the one being tattooed you will become the target for a strangers jealousy but if you see someone else with tattoos then you will take a long, hard journey from home.

According to petrix.com

Scar. Something permanent. Display. Something dangerous from past is hunting you.

Yikes.

Ok, so on to more of the symbols:

Red
Red is an indication of raw energy, force, vigor, intense passion, aggression, power, courage and passion. The color red has deep emotional and spiritual connotations. Red is also the color of danger, shame, sexual impulses and urges. Perhaps you need to stop and think about your actions.

Mother
To hear your mother call you in our dream, signifies that you have been negligent in your duties and responsibilities. You are pursuing down the wrong path.

Arm
To dream that your arm has been injured, signifies your inability to care for yourself or your helplessness in reaching out to others. You may have been feeling limited and restricted in terms of your freedom or activities. The right arm signifies your outgoing nature and is associated with masculine energy, while your left arm signifies your supportive or nurturing nature and is associated with feminine qualities.

Wrist
To notice your wrist in your dream, represents your ability to bring about fun/excitement and productivity at the same time.


Awesome. So what the hell does it all mean??

Full on Fall

And mixed with That Special Visitor it's extra Suck-tastic.

I have things I could write about, but for some reason I just don't feel like it.
I could write about the strippers this past Saturday and how one of them was about as sexy as a porn star and looked eerily like Cato Calin. But I just don't have the energy to relive the violating nipple lick/bite and crotch grab...not to mention his propensity for whipping out his meaty-nonsense* and touching everybody with it. Seriously. It was like he was 5 and just discovered that boys have penises and girls have vaginas. I don't like strippers.

I could write about the big-ass bruise on my ankle from the spill down the stairs at the bar after the Unpleasantness and Drinks poured by The Bartended With a Mission From God to Get All of Us Completely Out of Our Minds Drunk.
Seriously. I was EMBARRASSED at how drunk I was. Look, I can throw em back. Ask people. They'll tell you...after their eyes widen in abject horror contemplating the amount of booze I can actually pour down my gullet. But Saturday I was in rare form. I know it's bad when I can't speak in complete sentences. I can think them, I can try and execute them, but my mouth refuses to cooperate. I am completely lucid inside. But my body has separated from my central nervous system. It's like being REALLY old. And your mind is totally intact, but you are powerless as your body succombs to the inevitable decay that time brings. And there's really nothing modern medicine can do short of building a stasis chamber with full-on life support in manner of Darth Vader.
And then try talking to a cute boy in that condition. It's not pretty.
So, yeah, that was pretty much my Saturday.
But I really don't feel like writing about it.











*©andy grigg

Jesse Jackson Makes Baby Jesus Cry

Just when I thought he could actually be someone other than a political opportunist...
This morning's WGN newscast featured Jesse Jackson...on to plug a scholarship fund set up by him and his wife funding underpriveleged children. I thought, wow. How nice. It's good to see him doing some good without all his soap-box pontificating slathered and oozing all over everything.
That sneaky-boots!
For no sooner had the news team thanked him for his appearance—Rev. Jackson inexplicably and totally out of left field starts in with:
"This sex scandal in the Senate is the important thing right now...this is just horrible.."
And then Larry "Hotness" Potash just says:
"We're out of time Reverend. Yes, we know. We're going to be covering that story in just a moment, sir"
And then offered to get him an albino python for his birthday.

A Political Week

It's an election year. Governors, Congress, bla bla bla.
Honestly? I am really, truly coming to the end of my goddamned rope.
Fuck you Republicans.
Fuck you Democrats.

I'm all for a little bit of muckraking now and then, but the whole point of muckraking is to affect change. (Think Upton Sinclair...Hunter S. etc.)
The kind of crap we get handed now only serves to create more crap.
The Democrats will win power back. But not because they're promising any big changes or revolutionary thinking or
God for-fucking-bid SOLUTIONS. But because they've managed to muck up better dirt on the Republicans this time around.

And that is now how leadership is determined. "Who comes up smelling worse?".

Gubernatorial Race, Illinois:
Topinka because she's former Gov. Ryan's treasurer?
Or Blags because he accepted a $1500 check that was ostensibly a birthday gift for his young daughter.

Control of The Senate:
The Republicans because they have a homosexual member who sent inappropriate and pretty illegal emails to underage pages?
or
The Democrats who boast a drunk-driving murderer in their midst?

Perish the thought of discussing just what in the fucking fuck we're going to do about Korea and Iran aside from Goddamned useless, ineffective sanctions! Cuz, you know, that's not really pressing right now.
What's really important is Foley's supposed abuse at the hands of an Evil Catholic priest that's driven him to alcoholism and the exploitation of young men. Actually, I'm quite surprised that the Christian Right has turned on the Catholic Church in order to diffuse fault for inappropriate behavior. Wait, no I'm not—as the CR tends to be anti-Papist.
(Good luck seeing any of this categorized as discriminatory slander.)
Yeah, I said it.

I'm seriously thinking of boycotting voting this year.
And that's HUGE given my stand on how important the right to vote is. But lately? What the fuck am I voting for?
Fuck it.

An Open Letter to July Barr Topinka's Campaign Team

What in the fucking fuck are you thinking with these commercials?
Blags (my pet name for He of the Substantial Hair) is going to wipe his ass with you if you keep up with these ads.

"...so scary that even my dogs run away!" ???? SERIOUSLY?
Lookit. Next time one of your pundits says "I think it'd be SUPER cute if my dogs/cats/fish/hermit crabs were in my commericals!" tell them fucking NO!
Swat them with a rolled up newspaper and say NO! Forcefully.
And then later give them some snausages.
Because for real.
These ads are abysmal.
As a member of the advertising community, I'm gonna say, if y'all can't get it together on the TV (idiot) box there, then I'm not sure I want to vote for you.
And your new ones aren't much better.
"Had Enough?"
That sucks.
How about telling me what you're going to do better rather than telling me the (SHOCKING) shit Blags is doing wrong.

Also, on a personal note to Ms. Topinka. I love a little surly as much as the next girl, but you might want to think about toning it down. You're teetering on Screeching Harpy and, frankly, it's starting to get on people's nerves.

Once I was Wistful

This used to be something I used to long for...
(lyrics from "Doin' What I Like to Do" by the Sons of the Never Wrong.)

...Well if the trees all had sparrows that sang love's sweet song
tweet tweet oh how sweet
Then I'd climb right on up there and sing right along
Doin what I like to do.
So let's take our shoes and we'll run through the park.
Watch the graass and see if we spark and
we'll blow out the candles and kiss in the dark
doin what I like to so
So abandon your longings and dance wrecklessly
for the next one who loves you mights look just like me.
A trixter with honor, to compromise thee
Doin what I like to do
Well all night
all day
come early
stay late
This night steal away and
I'll build you a bed of amber and red
and maybe some sunlight for your head
or anything else you'd rather have instead.

That shade of Jade is getting pretty deep.

At Night I'm Still 9.

Seriously. I woke last night from a nightmare and was afraid to go back to sleep.
I had to smoke a cigarette to shake off the dream. And still that didn't really work.
The dream was stupid really, and all due to the subject matter of a book I'm reading right now.
There were vampires chasing us and the only thing we had to fight them were a few very long nails and some hammers. (The dream kicked off at my mom's house and the woman has no real tools to speak of. Good luck fixing anything.)
So, yeah, I wake up and I'm all scared of vampires coming to kill me in my sleep.

I've been really stressed out lately.

I'm watching my friends go through what we're all going through. And I was affected a lot at first. And now, I'm not as acutely aware of feeling anything as I once was.
I suppose I can chalk this up to an old coping mechanism.
Growing up, when shit got bad at home and people were around to see it, I'd immediately start the "make everyone else feel comfortable because this is totally normal and there's no reason for alarm" process. Changing the Subject was a well-honed skill early on.
Whenever anything bad happened, I just tried to forget about it. But was I?
Am I? Who was I trying to convince? Other people? Or myself?
These times when I feel numb, devoid of emotion, and really fucking insensitive...am I?
Honestly. Sometimes I feel like the biggest asshole ever because I just keep moving. I feel selfish when I feel "over" something and no one else is.

Anyone see the Bears last night?