Two Truths and a Lie

The way this game works is pretty self explanatory. I tell two truths and a lie and you have to guess which is the lie. We see how well you know me and you get to know me better. Genius, huh? Let's play...

1 - My immediate superior at work gave me $20 today to pay the cab that drove me to work because I was late and he didn't want me to lose my job.

2 - I wear a size 4 pants now.

3 - I have a boyfriend, for arguably the first time ever in my life.

Okay. If you guessed they're all true, you'd be right. I suppose we were actually playing 3 truths and a lie, since the lie was that I was gonna tell you a lie. I tried; really, I did. But my life is so awesome today, I can't help but share. And that's pretty meaningful since I haven't written since the last lie about the new weblog I was gonna start.

It's not that I'm sick of writing, I just can't find abything to write about at the moment, and that's never really a good sign in this world on the web, is it? I can't even bring myself to write about sex enough to get the other page going well. Damn

Fascinating

I had a crazy weekend, and I've realized I am way too open about who I am on this page to actually talk about the wild things I do, so now I'm going to start an anonymous weblog to document all the insane shit I do that I do want to talk about, yet don't want people to know that I specifically do it...Does that make sense?

Alright Still

I'm still sleeping with the same boy, over 6 months later. Wierd, huh?

Articulate

I've been thinking a lot about my last post, and haven't been able to wrap my head around how to articulate what I wanted to say. Ultimately , it's this: I love to play. I agree with Boy that kids play on a playground and adults play in the bedroom. (Which ties in brilliantly elsewhere, remind me to tell you later) I play rough. I like biting and hair-pulling and ropes and being taken from behind while I'm halfway dressed and calling the cab company. I like being with a guy who likes watching me squirm.

But play is play and life is life and life isn't supposed to be as rough as play. I never really understood the difference between dogs play fighting and real fighting until last week. But having my hair pulled and my dress ripped and having my arms pinned to my sides by a strong guy, and not being turned on by it...I never would have understood that either, until last week.

Last Night

I got a call from Erik, an Australian guy I was friends with right after I got out of college. He's been living in Seattle and doesn't get to Boise very often. He has a rental here, but I've never been to it. I thought I was going to last night, but all I wound up seeing was a ripped dress, blood and the underneath side of a bush. (I wasn't physically hurt or raped or anything, just a little bit in hysterics)

The odd part was that I couldn't help but think about Boy. He had told me not two nights before all about how when I complained or showed that I wasn't physically enjoying something he did, it almost made him that much more turned on. I sent him a text that said, "Thanks for liking me. I'm done" before I remembered why I like him back. I wound up crashing on his couch, because I called to apologize and he made me stop by before I went home. It's a little endearing that the sight of me clutching my dress to my chest to keep it from falling down makes him shake uncontrollably.

For me, the difference between rape (I wasn't raped) and sex is mutual consent after the act. I know that's a little bit duh and a little bit incorrect, but I truly believe when you know someone well enough and you trust someone completely in that context, if you have a relationship that is founded on honesty and openess, that person may very well know what you want sexually more than you do. And ultimately, sometimes it's rape when you say yes and wish you had said no. Don't get me wrong. Actually don't get me at all. No one's reading this anyway. What's the point of being eloquent? I'm actually gonna ditch this tirade, just leave it at, "You don't know what I'm talking about because I didn't finish my thought process"

Not so Comfortably

I have somehow lost the ability to laugh or cry. I hate my numbness. I hate having to be around people in an effort to assume a posture of normalcy. I'm going to cash my check tonight and take a long walk to nowhere and cry. Maybe I'll go swing on the swingsets at Animal's Body-Part Park until it gets dark enough to take off my clothes and get lost in sensation. I need to sense or feel or reel in some sort of something. Because I never feel anything anymore if it's not panic.

I'm trying to keep myself in crying mode. I'm thinking of friends I've lost, friends I thought I was going to get back, but am not, friends I've alienated, lovers I've hurt, lovers who've hurt me, lovers who continue to hurt me without knowing they're doing it, my inability to tell them...my inability to be sad is the saddest thing I can think of.

And don't get me wrong, it's not that I want to be depressed, I want to be anything but this. And this is some sort of terrifying limbo where I feel constantly on the verge of oblivion.

***
I walked last night to Boy's house, not realizing I was doing it until I was halfway there. I got up and wished it had been raining and walked out into the middle of Harrison Blvd and laid down on a median to watch the dusk lengthen and stretch the trees until I couldnt tell the difference between sky and life. And the cars were driving by so fast and the lights were on. It wasn't right. So I got up and started walking around the backroads and wound up there.

I hate needing company. Tonight I'm trying to avoid it. But I want to get elegantly wasted. Shit. I need to prove to myself that I can do at least one night with no company. Maybe tomorrow.

Never Felt It...

But I do hope I will:

GORECKI
If I should die this very moment
I wouldn't fear
For I've never known completeness
Like being here
Wrapped in the warmth of you
Loving every breath of you
Still in my heart this moment
Or it might burst
Could we stay right here
Until the end of time
until the earth stops turning
Wanna love you until the seas run dry
I've found the one
I've waited for

All this time I've loved you
And never known your face
All this time I've missed you
And searched this human race
Here is true peace
Here my heart knows calm
Safe in your soul
Bathed in your sighs
Wanna stay right here
Until the end of time
'Til the earth stops turning
Gonna love you until the seas run dry
I've found the one
I've waited for
The one I've waited for

All I've known
All I've done
All I've felt was leading to this
All I've known
All I've done
All I've felt was leading to this

Wanna stay right here
'Til the end of time
'till the earth stops turning
I'm gonna love you till the seas run dry
I've found the one
I've waited for
The one I've waited for
The one I've waited for
Wanna stay right here
'Til the end of time
'till the earth stops turning
I'm gonna love you
till the seas run dry
I've found the one
I've waited for
The one I've waited for
The one I've waited for

Sex

It seems that's all I ever write about anymore. Does it drive you nuts yet? I don't think so, because you all don't read it anymore. I miss you guys!

Horrible Daughter

I'm a terrible daughter. I didn't even call my mother yesterday!

It Looks Like...

Instead of getting laid, I'm gonna go hang with my mom tonight.

Get Better

I subscribe to the "work is work" philosophy. I honestly believe that the most I have in common with people I work with is that we walk the same square footage of carpet every day. Ultimately, when I have to take an engagemnet survey and it asks "Do you have a best friend at work?" I can honestly say no. And odds are, I never will have a best friend at work, unless I start a business with my best friend. Even then, work would be work and friendship would be friendship and very rarely the twain shall meet. Catch my drift?

(Please, actually, catch it. it's been drifting out there for ages and, as anyone who's ever treaded water will tell you, that gets tiring really fast.)

But for once I've found someone I like to hang out with who happens to work with me. He's one of the coolest guys I've ever met, at work or elsewhere, and I think he knows I adore him. And hopefully he digs me too. You never can tell. I rejoiced at the news that he and I would be on the same team for the up and coming shift change. And we just got moved around. His desk is two away from mine. Were he here I's be able to merely stand and see the back of his perfectly shaped head. (And yes, I did intend for that to be creepy. I don't know if his head is perfectly shaped or not. I'm just trying to give him some quality attributes other than just being fucking awesome and having met Blondie. Twice. I remember everything. Well, not the shape of his head.)

But he's ill. I haven't seen him for too long. I miss him. If there were anything I could do to help, I'd do it, but I haven't heard. If he were to, say, email me at firstname.lastname@company.com, I could give him my phone number in case he needs anything. I'm just saying. I want him to get better and I want him to get back. Soon.

Dear Number Two,

I know you might have sex with her, and that really isn't a problem. What is a problem is that you might have sex with her without a condom, which means you and I can't have sex anymore, since I don't want to use a condom when I have sex with you. Period. So please, if you find yourself preparing to do anything involving penetration with her tonight, or any night with anyone for that matter, please use a condom with them, so you don't have to use a condom with me.

In words that might mean more to you, if you have to use a condom when you and I have sex, you're gonna have to live without the oral break between positions, because seriosuly, have you ever tasted latex? Gross.

(By the way, I know that second paragraph sounds like I might be willing to try intercourse with you without a condom, but if it's not great in other ways, I'm really, really gonna miss you)

Witty Words to Get You Laid:

"Sometimes it's the day after your birthday and you're lying in bed at nearly noon next to a man with a large erect penis and you think to yourself, 'Why am I masturbating?'"

(Cue strangely joyous laughter and shortly thereafter, sex will commence. Good luck!)

Turn Off

I need to start losing weight again and stop thinking so much. Stop getting this knot in my stomach of fear and nausea whenever I think about even the remote possibility of getting involved with anyone. Stop even considering getting with someone. And I told someone that last night...

Actually we both kind of told each other at kind of exactly the same time. Apparently we both thought the other was getting a little too attached, which is interesting because I thought he was getting too close because he kept saying things like, "should we go public with our relationship?" and, "this is what love tastes like." He thought I was getting too famliar because I...well, did the exact same thing I always do. (I instigated kisses and sex of all kinds and lounged around his house naked, except for when I was wearing a leash. It's really that good.)

But we are both right. We've been spending too much time together. It's really not healthy, physically or monetarily. So I'm cutting back. Not cutting OFF, but I'm gonna stop thinking about it, now that the stuff is out there. I have a lover and that's it. We both know it and I can officially stop caring what he says about love and dating and all that shit. Well, I'm allowed to. I just hope I can, as I have a tendency to overthink without thinking about it.

By the By

Don't tell me to take a cab to a boy's house by telling me you will drive me to work in the morning if you don't intend to answer your phone in the morning.

Around and Through

So I have gotten really good at not being with Boy 1. I proved it to myself (and fortunately enough, to him) last night when he came by to tell me the interesting news...Well, he said he had some news I would love. It was that Rebecca texted him. Wow. I'm shocked. Thanks, Firsty, for that bit of stunning news. (Please read with excessive sarcasm, thanks) I didn't actually say that, I just feigned a little middling interest and then went back to talking to Boy 2 at the bar.

That's right, I'm really bad at not being with Boy 2. I got spent the night at his last night, which was a bad idea, as I spent all my cigarette and food money on a cab back into downtown. And I can still taste and smell man. Even though we didn't have sex. Apparently, getting under someone to get over someone else puts you in a position like this.

(Except that I actually slept with Boy 2 long before I even met Boy 1 and I didn't intend to use Boy 2 to get over Boy 1, he just helped a lot, not by taking my mind off it as much as just giving me a little bit of perspective. The hardest thing about just sleeping with a guy like Two is that he's such an amazing person, it's hard to retain that distance, although it is inescapably necessary. Damn.)

Over(t)ly So

I think way too much for my own good. And I'm gonna hurt myself.

Here's what I know, Boy 1 (of "old-woman-loving fame) is calling up to ask me out for a drink and Boy 2 (of the "just-found-out-he's-a-daddy" club) is still calling me beautiful.

But I don't think it'd be smart for me to be with either right now.

Plus, Boy 2 plays pool and has been trying to get me to play, and he's a bit of a know it all, so I'd get real pissy real fast, but I think I just might find a lonely, secluded pool table to play with and reteach myself how not to lay too much english.

Cupdate

There has been very little mention of the whole dating thing with Boy, except that he said he was "trying to love me". I had told him I was broken, and he responded by being exceptionally wonderful. At which point I, of course, got prickly and unfair when he complimented me. and he said, "I am just trying to love you." But it was similar to last time in that he sorta just said it as he was walking out of the room and I was drifting off into tear-streaked sleep. (Well, the last incident was laughter, this one was tears. Sue me.) So I got up and asked, "What did you just say?!" It was kinda surreal. I feel like I'm in a movie. I told him I did love him. He said he loved me, too. And then added, "more than you know."

So the question is: Is it foolish for a broken girl to hook up with broken-for-now Boy? Even if he's broken for a reason and for awhile, as opposed to my being broken forever and just because I'm me? Can a sometime-broken guy break me further, or would I be in danger of pushing him closer to broken-for-good?

On a lighter note, should I start playing pool again?

Hindi

Apparently I'm going to start blogging in Hindi now.

Not really. I just think it's funny, 'cause of the fact that my white, middle-American filter said, "Why the fuck would anyone want to blog in Hindi? Are there that many Hindi bloggers out there? I mean really?" I'm such a wasp...

Anyway. Here's the fast and quick version, since I'm sick of talking about it.

Rebecca is the mother of a good friend of mine from high school. (And by good friend, I mean I wouldn't run the other way if I saw her walking towrd me on the street. Unless she was with her mom, but I'll explain that in a sec.) She's a hairdresser, so when she offered to give me a flapper bob for New Year's Eve, I was thrilled. And she raved about some boy, some 24 year old boy that she was sleeping with. When I went in for my appointment, she told me about how he stole her lingerie and a miniskirt and was an idiot and she had made out with a theatre designer much closer to her age and was very hungover (reassuring when you're getting your hair done, let me tell you).

Anyway, not 3 days later, I was hanging out in the bar and started a friendly conversation with Jake, the man sitting next to me, very cute, kinda funny, drinking a beer and about to go to the same concert I was going to go to. We went together and started hanging out every dayand sleeping together and my friends started calling him my boyfriend. Here's the weird thing. He is the twenty-four year old lover who stole the clothes. Rebecca said (to Jakein text form) "the cow says moo. do you like that? you make me sick" and later, my personal favorite, "how's the grand canyon?" She's 48 and she's less mature than my 16 year old sister. I pitied her more than anything else.

But then she came up to me one night wasted at the bar saying I needed to dump Jake, he was an asshole and the other night when he told me he was at home, he was really fucking her (and I quote, "no, Sam, really fucking me all night long." Classy). Anyway. I told her it was no biggie. I didn't care who Jake fucked, I knew he was an asshole, which is why I always referred to him as my lover and not my boyfriend. Although before Papa's best friend died, I was starting to get caught up in it.

And the woman has ignored me ever since, except for a drunken apology and a slur on Jake, who I still consider my friend, although I can't have sex with him any more, since it makes him act all weird and shit, which is a whole other story.

Anyway, well before I met Jake I had what I thought at the time was a one night stand with a guy I saw at the bar all the time. We became sorta friends in passing, and the one night stand has turned into a bonafide on-again-off-again stand of indeterminite length, which may have taken a bit of a hop into the dating realm last night, when he told me "maybe we should just date each other." Actually it went like this:

Me: (inane conversation, drunken giggling)

Him: (more inane conversation, funny laughter)

M: (laughing at his funny laughter)

H: Maybe we should just date each other.

M: (more inane conversation)

H: (mass inanity, how many times can we use that word?)

M: What do you mean "maybe we should just date each other"?(!)

H: We shouldn't talk about this like this tonight when we're drunk.

Exeunt, with flourish

The End. As in WoW! I don't know how I feel about it. I can't stop thinking about it. I'm scared and I hope it doesn't come up again. But I know if he doesn't bring it up, I'll have to. Becase I'm a talker througher and rational to a fault and I know that I need to weigh the options now, and if saying no to dating means never being with him again, I have to say yes...Does that mean I want to date him, or just that I don't want the good thing to end? Is that the same thing?

alpha

I hate the new Blogger. That said, my website will probably not be around much longer. I'm sure they don't take kindly to people saying that. I'm just trusting Google not to be evil and wipe my blog off the face of the internet. Like Accutane wiped the pimples off the face of my sister. I'm in quite a mood today and confused about the whole friends and lovers business.

Just a quick update, Jake had sex with the old woman again and it was actually okay, because if you remember correctly I had demoted us back to friends and lovers, but he's all depressed and shit. We still have sex on occasion. Anyway, I'm trying really hard not to make it more or less than what it is, but it's hard when he asks how to get to my mom's house and gives me a look that says, "I wanna fuck you on her laminate floor."

Winter

It hasn't been autumn for a long time and I'm sick of the autumn look, so I think I'm gonna make a wintry look, or maybe a springy look as wishful thinking.

What do you think?

Bad Day(s)

I'm not a good girlfriend, so I'm relinquishing the title. I am just going to try and be a good friend for a while. I never really have been before, and maybe that's the key to being a good girlfriend, really. I've really been hating this the past few days...

Anyway, the news is that I haven't had sex with Jake for almost a week. In fact, I haven't even made out with Jake for almost a week. And the past few days I've been dying for it. And the worst thing is that I could have had it. I ran into two guys last night who I know wanted to have sex with me, and I was approached by three other men to start converstaions. I was like little miss popularity.

And I thought, "I don't want to be alone tonight."

And I saw, "I don't have to be alone tonight."

And I realized, "I don't just not want to be alone; I don't just want to be with someone. I want to be with someone specific."

And then I felt more alone than before.

And then I sat and talked with Ryan about sext messaging and talked to Lawrence about the scifi movie he wants to make, and really, all those feelings passed.

The point is, it's hard not to be a whore.

Part Deux

(Thanks, K-La)

1. YOUR SPY NAME: [middle name and current street name]

Joe Fort


2. YOUR MOVIE STAR NAME: [grandfather/grandmother on your father's side, your favorite candy]

Anna Heath


3. YOUR RAP NAME: [first initial of first name, first three or four letters of your last name]

S Bail


4. YOUR GAMER TAG: [a favorite color, a favorite animal]

Red Kitten


5. YOUR SOAP OPERA NAME: [middle name, city where you were born]

Joe Nampa


6. YOUR STAR WARS NAME: [first 3 letters of your last name, last 3 letters of mother's maiden name, first 3 letters of your pet's name]

Baioonbon


7. JEDI NAME: [middle name spelled backward, your mom's maiden name spelled backward]

Eoj Noopsrehtiw

8. PORN STAR NAME: [first pet's name, the street you grew up on]

Odie Bloom


9. SUPERHERO NAME: ["The", your favorite color, the automobile your dad drives]

The Red Peterbilt (or The Red 1500 or The Red Malibu...They all just sound like cars)

10. YOUR ACTION HERO NAME: [first name of the main character in the last film you watched, last food you ate]

Clementine Bagel

Survey

I feel like doing one. I'll have to look for one. More later

Hospital

I found out this morning I actually have a boyfriend, now. An official title. I've never had a boyfriend before. He told me he loves me, that I make him happy, that I'm pretty, that he's lucky to have me in his life. And this afternoon he found out that his grandfather is refusing traetment at the hospital in favor of home hospice. So the day I got a boyfriend is the day his papa (which warms my heart coming out of his mouth, because papas are a very special thing. I should know. I lost mine in 2005) has decided to go home and die comfortably.

The point is, I love the idea of having a boyfriend. I love being in love with this guy. And I am. I fell for him pretty hard, pretty fast. I love the feeling of importance. I love that he notices little things about me that I wasn't really aware of before. I hated leaving him to go to work today. I hated seeing him hurt. I hated knowing how he felt and not knowing for sure at the same time. And all of a sudden I think I may actually understand the difference between a fuck buddy and a boyfriend. And that's it. The only difference is that wanting to make them as happy as they make you. Maybe this is that mother-children love thing I don't get either. That "i-feel-pain-when-you-feel-pain" feeling. Weird. More about this later.

I can't go, I'm a horrible friend.

Actually I'm a horrible employee, and I will lose my job if I leave early today. Son of a bitch. I'll be out in early March. I promise.

Portland

Ah, I'm torn. (And I'm not apologizing for not having posted for nearly a month; deal with it. I've been really busy, and now I'm posting at work to waste time, further solidifying my fear that I will not pass my final exam and I will be looking for a new job next month)

In recent news I received an eviction notice in the mail, but I'm ignoring it, because my landlord was too stupid to send it with a receipt, and I have to move out within three days of receiving it, and I never did, to her knowledge, so ha. I'm glad i just recorded that in print, because now she knows i got it, if she ever found my weblog, which she won't. Anyway. I've sent in my 30-day notice with a veiled threat to report her to the housing authority for the mold problem, the leaky ceiling, the fact that she sent people in to knock holes in my walls and hasn't had them fixed for over a year now, and for my apartment always smelling like pot and I can't have any. Fucking jobs. The people above and below me smoke out all the time and since I have holes between my bedroom and both stoner apartments, I have to deal with that shit all the time and that really messes with your ability to abstain, right? I guess that last one is probably not such a good argument to take to the authorities, but still.

So I'm slowly packing up all my shit and trying to move into the apartment across the street, since I hate moving if I have to use a vehicle. It blows.

Also, hey, I've been dating a guy for almost a month now, which is weird. I still don't refer to him as my boyfriend, but he kind of is, I guess. Or at least my friends say he is. I never really understood the difference between a monogamous fuck friend and a boyfriend, so I'm not necessarily a good one to ask. I don't introduce him to people as my boyfriend, and he doesn't call me his girlfriend, so that may be an indicator.

Just in case you're wondering, I'm not going to say anything about maybe going to Portland this weekend, because nothing's set in stone. I kinda have to figure out this eviction thing first. Shit. But I may be in Portland on Saturday afternoon. I certainly hope so. I need money, though. Shit. Grrrr. (Insert a whole string of expletives here. I'm sure you can imagine.) I hate rent. Not so much the musical and only a little bit the movie, but a whole lot the actual paying of a landlord for the ability to have a leaky roof over my head.

Yes, Adam, there is a Santa Claus...I mean, I do understand. I miss both parts of you. And K-La, I miss you like bleeding from my eyes. (Not I miss you like I miss bleeding from my eyes, which is not at all. I mean missing you feels like bleeding from my eyes. I need to know when you'll be back on this side of the country, 'cause I get two weeks vaykayshun. And I need to see you. Hopefully I'll see Adam on Saturday. Adam, what are you doing on Saturday?)