I’m holding a dead kitten in my lap. Sapphire was dead when I got home this evening, nestled in among her siblings, her little bony body still warm, her little face between her paws. And Nate and I have cried and I’m still crying. She nursed really good yesterday morning and last night but, let’s face it, something was wrong with her. She wasn’t growing, hell, she still had her umbilical cord. There probably was something wrong on the inside because she didn’t get enough time to grow or room in the womb. It’s a fact of animal life.
No, I don’t think its morbid that I’m sitting here with her on my lap. I look down at her and stroke her soft fur and wish her well. So what if she was only 11 days old. Big fucking deal. I have a connection with animals that I can’t explain and her dying breaks my heart. And as I have told Nate, when we lost Mongoya, and now, that they had a good home and they were loved. For their short life, they were loved. That’s what really matters.
Why am I pissed? Well… fuck, I had a different post planned about what irked me today because several things did but now this one thing stands out most. AZ and Lex called me from the studio today. Can I just say this was awkward? I haven’t talked to Lex since I dumped him. Sure, we’ve chatted off and on but I haven’t spoken to him. AZ, well, we all know about him. Yeah, I spent time speaking in code to AZ and trying to keep my tongue in check because I’m lady enough not to diss Lex in front of one of his friends.
I told them that I had five new kittens two days before my birthday so now I had 13. Lex said, “Damn, you had too many when you had eight.” I said, “Well, I may lose one.” What I WANTED TO SAY was… “Look fucktard, its not like I asked you to take care of my cats m’kay! And furthermore, since I own my house and don’t live with my mommy, I’ll do whatever the fuck I want.” AZ didn’t say anything at all because he KNOWS how I feel about my cats. He knows that I have tried to reduce my population. He has the same problem with people telling him to get rid of his dog. He loves the floppy eared mangy beast and… therefore he keeps him.
The whole fucking conversation with Lex and AZ was… just terrible on my part. I mean, fuck, maybe Lex doesn’t know about mine and AZ’s relationship, but AZ does. And AZ definitely knows about my relationship with Lex and how I felt and how much it hurt me…. I want to call AZ and rip his ass apart. You have no idea!! NONE!!! As in, “What the fuck were you thinking?” As in, “You admitted you guys were talking about me why didn’t you just come out and tell him that I suck your dick and did it not cross your mind that I would feel a weeeeee bit uncomfortable talking to both of you!” Men are stupid creatures!!! Fucking stupid!!!
I IMed Lex when I got home, before I started writing this to tell him, “Now I have 12 because I found the runt dead.” I did. I DID, I DID, I DID. Crass asshole. I wanted to ask him if that’s the reason he wouldn’t have sex with me, or go out with me or treat me any better than what he did. That’s what I wanted to ask him. Were my eight cats the reason you are an EMOTIONAL CRIPPLE??? Answer that ASSHOLE!!! ANSWER THAT!!! And fuck you prick… Yeah, its okay for me to overlook the fact that YOU LIVE WITH YOUR MOTHER AT THE AGE OF 34!!! But, you wanna bitch about my cats??? Fuck you!!! FUCK. YOU.
FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU. YEAH, YOU’RE GODDAMN RIGHT I TAKE IT PERSONAL!!!!!!!
FUCK. YOU. And I want AZ to call me… I want him to. I want him to call me and explain why the fuck he did that. Lex would have NEVER known my phone number at work. He had such an indifference to calling me AT ALL!!! I know I’m so mad and upset that if I call him, I’ll just bawl and sob and yell and be really, really pissed. And then he’ll yell at me and then we’ll both feel bad. I’ve been mad at AZ before, but this takes the fucking cake. THIS IS PERSONAL!!! This hits me where it hurts.
Two of my biggest failed relationships on the phone with me at the SAME FUCKING TIME! JEEEEZUUUSSSS… SLAP ME HARDER!!! GOD, I LOVE IT, I LOVE THE PAIN, SLAP ME HARDER!!! BEAT ME ‘TIL I’M RED!!! BEAT ME! BEAT ME! MAKE IT HURT!!!! DON’T LET ME FORGET!!!
And its raining and cold and I have to dig a hole. Morticia keeps jumping my lap, licking her baby, like she’s trying to wake her up. That is just too sad to take so I gotta go do what I gotta do. I need to go out and get cat food for the others and beads for Nate’s sister’s necklace and for a few others and I can’t go with a glowing red nose and red rimmed eyes. Okay, yeah, I’m gonna have to. *sigh* Oh and just for the record, FUCK YOU LEX! And AZ, get your head out of your ASS!
On Thanksgiving Day, after the hunt was over and darkness had fallen, I went back to the farmhouse to ‘face the music.’ That would be… my family, collectively.
I do not have a warm and fuzzy relationship with my brother and his wife. I’ve tried. It hasn’t worked. Being the perceptive individual that I am, I realize it will always be this way. They probably don’t approve of my life any more than I approve of their’s. Okay.
What I’m upset about is really more than one thing… its two or three things combined, maybe four. They just all mix together in some bizarro fashion.
First is Nate. He’s never really been around babies, just J1 and J2 but he didn’t see them very often and he was all of three when J1 was born. I was sitting holding Annie and he came in and sat down beside of me and asked if he could hold her. I sat her on his lap and he held her carefully and talked to her while I battled the four arms and two heads attempting to decimate them, known as The Nephews. They are sooo rough with her! They pull her little head around, twist her arms, get in her face… poor darling. Nate just sat with her and I could tell… he wanted one.
I want one for him. I want one for me. I want one for us… whoever the collective “us” is. This is not the first time that Nate has brought the issue up. He really wants a baby sister, I think he would take a baby brother but has definitely told me he wants a baby sister. He told me on the way home that The Nephews were way too rough. He’s so protective of her.
This leads me to what else is bothering me. How The Nephews are allowed to treat, not only each other, but my niece. My SIL and brother, well… if they want to let their sons boss them around and slap them across the face (yes, J2 hauled off and slapped my SIL across the face as hard as he could and she did…. um… nothing) then so be it. But dear God, they slap, punch, kick, pinch, pull hair, talk back, throw tantrums, sling food… and this puts a lot of stress on my parents when they are there. It puts stress on me and Nate too because now The Nephews have taken to fighting over Nate. Nate came home scratched and bruised because he got caught between them.
The Nephews are absolutely the cutest little boys you could ever hope for. My niece is an absolute doll. She is sooo sweet. I told my brother that and his response was, “Well, she’ll be as rotten as the other two before long.” Oh, like this is no big deal that he’s raising a posse of undisciplined disciples of Satan! Nate may not jump at every word I say but he knows what is right and wrong and he’s figured out that what The Nephews do, is wrong. This bothers him.
And this bothers me. As I was looking through my SIL scrapbook, I came across the story of how Annie came to be. Seems my SIL cannot ovulate by herself. She takes a particular drug that makes her ovulate or a follicle ripen. She then goes to the fertility doctor and they do an ultrasound to see if its working. If it is but not moving on, then they shoot her up with progesterone. All well and good, I knew she needed a little extra help in that department.
In the scrapbook she talked about how “we just couldn’t wait to have another baby… so we went to Disney with the boys first… blah, blah, blah” Heh, I had figured that out myself. Big trip = new baby. Then she goes on to say that she had a certain amount of time, blah, blah… and my brother had just flown back from Alabama. This whole “we” thing, was bullshit. My parents were with my brother when my SIL called to give him the big news. He was, shall we say, less than thrilled. Which is sad. For me, its sad. No one’s life is perfect and whatever facade my brother and SIL were going for sort of crumbled in that moment.
Whatever my brother does for Annie, its done with a mechanical indifference. He feeds her but doesn’t look at her. He holds her but away from him. He used to come in and if one of us was holding J1 or J2, especially J1, then he would talk to them as babies and with Annie, oh well. Its not Annie’s fault. Its his fault for not having the balls to stand up to his wife and its my SIL’s fault for taking matters into her own hands. I don’t know what the deal is there but I see three perfectly good kids, smart kids (so far), being completely wasted.
Oh and what I would give for them to be mine. That’s what really bothers me. I would love to have more kids…. kidssssss… not just one more, although I’d settle, but I’d prefer three. Hell, I’d adopt a whole family if I could. But alas.
My brother is a fucking moron and his wife is a bitch. Yep, she loves shoving them out but by God if she wants to actually act like a parent. Being a parent means being the bad guy sometimes. It means saying “no” and meaning it and yes, it’s a hard fucking job!! I KNOW! I think of my poor Nate, and how they talked about him before we found out about the seizures and the ADHD. He has his problems but God, he’s a damn good kid all in all. He’s sweet and kind and he LOVES so much!!
So many things I want for us….
Its hard to keep my spirits up sometimes. I put out some feelers… you know, “going for it” in a sense with some of my crushes but have come up… no where. That’s hard, really, really hard. Sometimes I think men think I’m teasing them or some shit when I express interest or… I don’t know. Its like, “yeah, right, uh huh.” Yo, fucktard, I’m serious!!! What? You think I’m doing this for my health? No you nimrod, its because I LIKE YOU. That goes for my crogs too. Nothing like having your hand slapped for trying to dip into the pot.
Yeah, well, I’m an emotionally complex individual. I know I am. Deal with it. Can’t handle it, don’t want you anyway. I’m not bitter, I’m more confused than anything. People who don’t have it, want it. People who have it, take it for granted. Yes, I just generalized a whole, whole lot. My blog. Bite me.
This is one of those nights, I go outside and stare at the moon and the stars and say… “What the FUCK?” Then as I sit here writing, Nate brings me a bracelet he made me with some letter beads I had bought him. It says, “Nate and Mommy.” That makes it better. Time to be thankful for what I have instead of grousing over what I don’t have. Injustice is the way of the world and the world owes me nothing, except…
Sapphire, one of my new kittens, is not doing well. She’s weak, still has her umbilical cord and is not growing like the others. Basically, a failure to thrive. I put her on the nip this morning and I’ll do the same tonight. I figure she is getting milk, but because she is so small she’s getting the leftovers and what she needs is the good stuff.
I told Nate that I would prefer that nature take its course. If something is wrong with her then its best that we leave her be. I take my cue from Morticia though. She cleans her and makes over her just like she does the others. She hasn’t rejected Sapphire but, being a cat and not having hands, is pretty powerless to stop the other kittens, who are much bigger and stronger from taking her spot at the nipple board.
I told Nate if she makes it until tomorrow, by herself, then I will get some replacement formula and hand feed her. She may just need a supplement to get her over the hump. She is going to be a really cute girl. My sense of fairness just will not let me give up on her. I always root for the underdog, or cat, in this instance. I will also make up a batch of home-made Pedialyte © tonight and feed her some with a dropper. She is a bit dehydrated, which is more dangerous than just being underfed.
Oh hell, I know I’ll risk overdrawing my account and will go to PetSmart tonight and get her some formula, if she’s still kicking when I get home. *Crosses fingers*
On to other things.
Nate and I moved furniture, cleaned and made a spot for the Christmas tree. We got it about half-way up and I found it laying on its side this morning, a victim of curious cats. This is why its almost impossible to have a tree. I’ll have to anchor it to the floor. Maybe I can spray something around it to keep the cats away.
I made my sister-in-law a necklace and earrings for Christmas. I’m making J1, J2 and Nate, all matching medicine pouches, similar to this one. My mom, who was huffing mad and stressed to the max with my nephews and my SIL, asked me if I thought she would ever spend so much personal time doing something like that for Nate. I said, “No, but that doesn’t mean I have to be like her.” And it doesn’t. I can’t afford much. I can’t depend on what is looking to be more like a non-existent bonus so I have to do what I can afford.
Plus, I’ve had this idea for a long time. The boys love anything to do with hunting and things like that. I figured it would a nice place to put marbles and things they find in the woods. I’m also going to bead their names on each of the pouches… that way, no fighting! I’ll probably put a few other things on them too, just to make them special. I can loom all of that and it won’t take me any time at all. Just have to get the beads.
When Nate and I were leaving my parent’s house the other night, Nate said, “Mom, that tree is looking at us.” I thought I’d had too much turkey or something until I looked at the big oak tree that my car was parked under. My parents had gotten one of those novelty things that you put on trees. Eyes, nose, mouth, like the trees from “The Wizard of Oz.” I laughed until I almost cried.
383 years after the Algonquins saved the white bread Pilgrim asses by showing them how to hunt, plant and gather, I hold these truths to be somewhat evident, at least to me:
1. No matter how steep a mountain is going up, it will contort at least one of your knees going down.
2. The moment you look up while scouting or stalking is the exact moment you will step in a mud hole up to your hip.
3. Hunting into the wind during a snow storm will cause ice to form on your eyebrows and eyelashes.
4. Any 16 degree drop in the temperature is never a good thing.
5. Neither is leaving your gloves and toboggan at home.
6. If the strap on your rifle breaks twice and the barrel of said rifle goes into the mud it is best not to discharge said firearm and return to base to clean said rifle.
7. If on the way to clean said rifle you miss taking a shot at an eight point buck, said buck will never reappear anytime during your natural life and will become a phantom of the forest. (The yellow antlered bastard!)
8. Awakening at 4:00 a.m., driving an hour and a half, walking 10 miles, stuffing yourself with turkey, and then driving another hour and a half, will cause you to oversleep the next morning.
9. You cannot shoot a rifle if you’re too scared to let go of the tree stand.
10. Frustration is when your father tells you half of a second before dusk that he would like you to shoot a doe for his starving neighbors when you have passed up six opportunities to shoot does and then do not see another deer during the remaining nanosecond of daylight.
11. Double frustration is dealing with your nephews.
12. Quadruple frustration is dealing with your parents who are dealing with your nephews.
13. It is best while seated at the table for Thanksgiving dinner to “get in the zone” of turkey, dressing, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, cranberries, corn, beans, roll, deviled egg, drink tea – repeat – repeat – repeat. This will save you the frustration of watching one nephew flip mashed potatoes on the other and makes for a more enjoyable dining experience.
14. While forced to look at your sister-in-law’s scrapbooking efforts, attempt to refrain from mentioning that you are missing from the entire year of 2004.
15. Also while looking at said scrapbook, attempt to forget that you read about the conception of your niece.
16. The creatures in the forest are much tamer than the yard apes at the house.
17. Sitting in a warm patch of sunlight, with your head in a comfortable niche, toboggan on, hood up, rifle across your lap, is the perfect way to catch an afternoon nap. Ahem…. not that I would know.
18. The reason you eat turkey on Thanksgiving is because the little shits keep giving up your position to the deer so you shoot them instead.
19. The wind chill is in direct correspondence to your age in negative numbers.
20. You will see five times more deer on the drive home than you did in the two days you hunted.
Tomorrow? The nabes and I sat outside last night with a kerosene heater, drank beer and tried to belch as loud as possible when someone would come down the street walking, running or on a bike. Naturally, we misfired all the time.
J.A., which is TLC’s mom and I talked about the fact the school nurse told TLC that he smelled like cat pee. Well, I told her that he does some days. His clothes rather. Okay, most days. He smells worse than cat pee. Sometimes he smells so bad I have to roll the window down on the ride to school and its only six blocks. TLC smells really bad, Hagar… ehhh, sometimes and J.A. never does.
I think this is because she hangs her clothes up etc., while TLC is known to take clothes off the hanger and dump them in the floor… and the floor stinks… so. Sad. Anyway, I agree with J.A. that the school should have called her or Hagar and not said anything to TLC. Maybe that was the school’s way of getting to them. Also, the teacher told TLC he was not allowed to play video games anymore.
I’m not sure how she intends to enforce that but J.A. overrode her and said after TLC gets his homework done that he can play video games. Must be those straight E’s the school is worried about.
J.A. was also telling me about her friend BeeBee, who she works with. She recently dumped her alcoholic, drug addict boyfriend and had to take the cops to the apartment to get her things because he wouldn’t let her in, threatened her, etc. Her ex opened the window to the apartment and yelled down to where she and the officer were standing, “Here, don’t forget this! You’re gonna need it!” And threw a dildo at her. She yelled back, “I wouldn’t have needed it if you were bigger than this,” and spread her fingers an inch apart. She said the cop bust out laughing. Probably made his night.
Then she was telling me about another friend? Co-worker… that is 47 years old and just found out she’s pregnant… again. She has two children and has had about four abortions. Problem is, chica takes seven Lortabs in the morning just to get moving, more throughout the day, and drinks every evening. No, she’s not stopping!!! J.A. asked her to stop the pills and stop the drinking and she would take care of the baby when she had it. I asked J.A. if Addict really knew what this child was going to be like when it came out, if it survived to be born anyway. Forget mentally challenged, the child will be teetotally fucking retarded!! They will remove the child from her custody, as rightly they should, if it is born addicted to a narcotic .
Some people should be publicly flogged.
Nate got up sick with diarrhea at 4:30 this morning. Amazing how one good call of “Mommy” with right inflection can bring one wide fucking awake at that time of the morning. Not just do your eyes fly open but you sit straight up in the bed. He didn’t throw up or anything, just went potty twice and then curled up with me and went back to sleep. Naturally, I did not for at least an hour. The adrenaline was already pumping.
Then I overslept. Well, not really, I just didn’t get out of the bed. I saw the time on the clock was 8:29 but the radio said it was only 8:21, so, I hit the snooze and rolled over for another eight minutes. I do that. Now, I’m tired.
I had worked on my new purse last night until midnight and I was really counting on those seven straight hours from 12-7 to get me through. Tomorrow morning I’ll be up at 4:30 to drive to my Mom’s house to go hunting. So far they haven’t had any luck. The deer are hiding because of the rain. One of them got a spike, but that’s it. Tricky bastards.
Still no news on my bonus, which reeks. Really reeks. I can’t tell you how much it reeks!! And stinks!! And reeks!! I told Bunsen yesterday that if I got it I was having dip all weekend, crab dip, devil dip, chili/cheese dip and crackers and Tostitos. I’m craving dip. I want DIP dammit!! Now, I’ll have to wait until Tuesday for payday.
I’m working Friday because I need the money. I found a cyst/tumor type thing on Smokey, that’s my big, fat nine year old cat. Its on his spine, right below the shoulder blades. Oy! Just one more thing. I’m going to keep an eye on it. Sometimes they are absorbed by the body. He could have bumped it on something too. Or it may be a warble. As some of you may not know what a marble is, it is the maggot or larvae of a warble fly that lives under the skin of mammals. I don’t see any type of hole though which would indicate this. Plus, the place would be hard and hot, this is mushy.
Well, that’s my world. Happy Thanksgiving Turkeys! Oh, I meant, Happy Thanksgiving, EAT lots of turkey… yeah, that’s what I meant. Gobble, gobble. Stay safe. Eat DIP if you have it.
As some of you know, or don’t know, Morticia had her kittens on Friday. She had two while I was at work and had the other three afterwards. Poor girl, she labored at least 8-9 hours with them. Last time it didn’t take as long. I have two black/whites, one black and two tortoiseshell. They are bit smaller, I guess because there was one more than before. The torties are gorgeous. Morticia’s mother was a tortie but I’m still surprised.
Nate got to see one of them being born and his reactions were:
Then he watched as she passed the afterbirth and ate it.
“Mom, what she did just do?” I’ll save my explanation because it involved the terms uterus, blood etc.
“Mom, did you have to eat my afterbirth?”
“No honey, only animals eat their afterbirth.”
“I think that’s just disgusting.” LOL!!!
11.21.04 – 6:30 a.m. – Telephone rings. I have been asleep about two hours. It was SPERM DONOR calling to wish me a HAPPY BIRTHDAY. He said, “I wanted to be the first.”
I said, “You should have been at the bar at 12:03 last night then.” Stupid fuck.
11.21.04 – 10:30 a.m. – Telephone rings. Sperm Donor again. He puts Nate on the phone. Nate tells me Happy Birthday. Unfortunately he hands the phone back to his dad. Sperm Donor launches into some monologue about his now ex-girlfriend. I am half-asleep and barely listening, trying to recapture a dream about me dressed as a barmaid and Johnny Depp as Captain Jack Sparrow, when he says, “I’ll just tie a bow around it for you and wear some real loose boxers.”
WHOA, I’M AWAKE!!
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“I figure if I’m going to be accused of it, I might as well do it.” (Said ex-girlfriend accused him of sleeping with me. Sorry, stupid girlfriend, its been nine years and will be 90 more. I’d rather eat afterbirth.)
After reading Jay’s post this morning, I was reminded what it was like finding out I was pregnant, November 3, 1995. The rush of panic, awe, confusion, and fear. I hope to always remember that feeling to have empathy for others, even if it is one of my own or a girlfriend of one of my own.
Back to kitties. Sissy at work asked that if Morticia had a black/white boy that she wanted it. So, Mortie had one black/white boy, just for her. I asked her to name it Jack, after our favorite officer of the law who has such interesting and painful experiences with felines. I begin loving on my kittens when they are just hours old. I think it makes them more loving as adults. Any cat left to its own devices will turn feral. Just like a woman.
After visiting Angi’s blog, I found out I’m the cranberry sauce part of Thanksgiving (a little sweet, a little sour, no dried up prunes), I’m a lifelong blogger and the Green Bean Casserole flavor of some holiday soda… oh and I’m 87 % Scorpio. Really? NO SHIT!
Night, oh and GOOD MORNING TRASHMAN!!! *Sings* You are my sunshine… my only sunshine…
After the fiasco with SD, (thanks Zelda) I wasn’t much in the mood to go out and get shit-faced or to stray too far from home. I went to T-Birds and had dinner and we decided we would go to the local Hole-In-The-Wall-Tavern to have a few drinks and still be close enough that if the cellphone rang, I was just a few miles away from Nate.
So, we hit the bar. As I was sitting drinking my first drink, a Peach Blossom which is Strawberry Smirnoff and Peach Schnapps (a nice healthy triple shot for three bucks!) I noticed the food list on the wall. One of them said, “Big Ass Cheese Samich” and another “World Famous in (insert town name) Wangs.” LOL!! How about the “Triple Decker Club Samich?” Sounds good right now.
A guy comes over that T-Bird knows named… Jim Bob. I swear. Jim Bob AKA Paw-Paw. He said, “You are one hunka good lookin’ woman.” A hunka good lookin’ woman. I don’t believe any has ever said that to me before. Not in those words anyway. Let me tell ya, I had on a old pair of low-riders that I got hand-me-down from someone else, an old sweatshirt two sizes too big, no make-up, my hair still wet and in a bun and I had my glasses on. Of course, that meant, comparatively speaking, I was dressed up. LOL!!
A guy came over and asked if he could buy me a beer (he was three sheets and working on four) and if I wanted to play a game of pool. I said, eh, what the hell… and surprised myself by beating him by playing a good game as opposed to just beating him because he was drunk. Then T-Bird came over and we played doubles with a friend of his. Every time he went to the bar he came back with two beers. By the time he stumbled out with his friend to go home, there were three full beers on the table. I sat down to drink one of them and got an eyeful of the girl sitting with her back to me with her ass crack showing. Oddly enough, I didn’t find that a bit attractive.
I then saw a really good looking guy. Enough that I gave him a few glances. It was something about his aura that I found… interesting. He also had a good singing voice as he went up and sang a Tim McGraw song. Yeah…. scary-okey… this place had it all. He and his friend were sitting behind us and I moved over so they could look at the chick’s ass crack, which made both of them chuckle. We started talking and I found out his name was Tim… hmmmm… he does actually resemble Tim McGraw. He asked if I wanted to go four-wheeling in his Bronco (nice and muddy in the Mountain State right now) so I dropped T-Bird off and followed him to his place. His friend went to put gas in the truck and we sat and talked, drank another beer, I met his dad, his nephew and another peep.
I was buzzing but I wasn’t drunk and he hadn’t had very many at all. Finally his friend got back and we got in the truck and took off for the dirt/mud roads. I was familiar with the area anyway but of course the locals know all the good spots. We ended up pulled off the road on top of a mountain. There was a lot of cloud cover so their was a faint glow all around us from the city lights. We sat for a long time and talked. I was getting tired too. Well, we both were and then we started kissing and eventually he hauled me over onto his lap. Good thing the driver’s side window was permanently down and I stripped out of my sweatshirt and bra and my jeans are unsnapped and …. well… ahem… he took his shirt off, ummmmm… nice chest.
That feeling of sitting in the woods, with an eerie glow, the night wind on my bare breasts and a man’s warm mouth… mmmmmmmm… and the crow of a rooster. A rooster? WTF?? Its two fucking o’clock in the morning! We got a kick out of that. Eventually we heard a vehicle and scrambled to get ourselves together. The vehicle never materialized but we decided to head off the hill anyway.
So, what’s so ironic about this? Ahhh…. you guys know what a love I have of reciprocation, blow jobs, sex etc. Well, I found myself in a situation where that wasn’t possible. Jim is paralyzed from the waist down and has absolutely no sensation below, well around T12, L1… about four inches above the waistline actually. It was… different but not a bad kind of different. I didn’t really know how to address it so I was just blunt and he was blunt right back.
Another interesting thing about last night…. sitting in a truck, with the eerie glow and watching someone drop the redneck facade, as though to step outside of what is expected, and be who they really are. A nice guy who has a job, is going to college and hoping to better his life. A change from the whining I heard from SD to this guy, who has been paralyzed for 10 years yet expects life to hand him nothing. Who is not bitter nor expects pity but goes about life just as we do, if not better. Who said the worst thing about his wreck (motorcycle) is how his son was six months old at the time and after three months in the hospital and another four years of coming to terms with his disability, he lost his bond with him.
Just a reminder of how fortunate I am. I had a good time with him, aside from the fact that he has magic fingers. That was nice but just being with him was nicer. He’s calm and sweet and… I just liked him. Thanks for the birthday wishes. I’m off for a 30 minute nap before I have to face SD…. I’ll tell ya about our conversations this morning later. Why ruin a perfectly good day?
The weekend is shaping up to be as shitty as I hoped it wouldn’t be. Sperm donor has decided to rear his ugly head because his girlfriend dumped him, again. Big Whoop. His coping techniques are sorely lacking. It becomes not just her fault, but my fault and his first ex-wife’s fault and his second ex-wife’s fault and none of his. Nate is spending time at his uncle’s house instead of with his dad, which is just fine with me because Sperm Donor sounds like he’s had about a case of beer. Unfortunately, or fortunately, his uncle lives right next door.
A question into the safety of my child, yes, I said MY child, turns into a free for all with him yelling at me for not keeping my house clean enough or my car (whaa??) and that I shouldn’t be trying to cause shit and give him shit. Hmmmm… when it concerns Nate, I’ll stir as much shit as I want, as often as I want. Normally, I am the least likely of any to cause any shit. I’m tired though. I know what he’s doing and, its okay, I can handle it, I’m a big girl and I have strong, broad shoulders. He knows what he’s doing is wrong so he opens every can of worms he can find (i.e. my messy house) to deflect guilt onto someone else.
This used to make me question my abilities as a parent because my house IS messy and my car is too. His isn’t but then again… he only has kids every other weekend. I know the shit slinging is just his way of trying to break down my self-esteem and bring me back into line. That’s one thing I think he can say he hates about me. He can’t break me. I’ll bend, I’ll bend back until my face is parallel to the floor but I won’t break. I can’t.
That’s what I’ve learned about life. It throws you some pretty serious curveballs and some of them knock you on your ass and I’ve been knocked on my ass more than once. That’s what they make bootstraps for, so you can pull yourself up. Pitying yourself will get you no where.
I’m reluctant to go out this evening because of this situation. You never know when that call will come in the middle of the night, it has before, and I like to be prepared if it does. It sucks and I wish Sperm Donor would find better means of dealing with his pitfalls in life but that’s the way it is. Not going out tonight will not make me or break me. I was angry but… what’s the point, it just makes me more like him. It is disappointing but that’s life.
Life hurts all of us, no matter who we are. We suffer disappointments and broken hearts but it doesn’t give us the right to drop out of the human race and shirk our responsibilities. Nate has weathered every major storm in my life with me. It was Nate who kept me in the race, who kept me sane and sober and moving forward and forward and forward, until I got my head out of my ass and made myself learn how to better deal with my life not just for him, but for me.
I often wonder why people look at me the way they do. Its not like my life has been any more difficult than anyone else’s. Matter of fact, I’ve had it pretty damn easy compared to some. I don’t want anyone to feel sorry for me and I certainly am not going to use attention seeking behavior, bad, bad behavior to illicit it from someone else. How embarrassing. How fucking embarrassing!!! You break down in the bathroom, you bawl your eyes out until you have snot running down your face, then you clean up and open the door and wha-la… you’re still alive. You don’t give up.
I always figure too, there is some underlying reason why I won’t be where I had planned to be. Just like two weeks ago, it was the opposite. Being somewhere where I hadn’t planned to be. Funny ole world isn’t it? So it shall cycle… and as a door closes, a window opens.
I called AZ today. I had a few things to say. Such as, after he said he had been very busy and was tired, I said it sounded like he could use a backrub and a blowjob. Eh, why not get to the crux of the matter? I reminded him that it had almost been a year since he was here, in my house, alone with me. He said, “Damn, yeah, I guess it has.” I think I said something along the lines of “too long without your dick in my mouth.” Yeah, I was trying out my subtlety. Clever girl aren’t I? I didn’t think so either.
Anyway, I asked if I should stop and he said, “I’ll let you know when to stop.” That means… never? Amongst my sexual overtures we did manage to have a blunt conversation. Yes, it gets more blunt. How? Here’s how…
If you’re just joining the program… AZ and I have been friends for almost 13 years. We’ve never had sex but we’ve gone just as close to it as one can get without doing it. I love him and I’ve been in love with him, off and on, throughout those almost 13 years but with the help of me blogger friends, realized, things are the way they are and they’re not going to change. Does this change the fact that he excites me sexually like nobody’s business? No. Does this change the fact that he is one of my best friends? No.
I told him a story, which I have not related here because I’m not certain the other party involved still remembers my blog URL and therefore, I do not want a shit storm. I am trying to save some feelings here. The story though relates back to AZ and I in this way… in the way of not wanting to tell someone you love and care about how you’re pretty sure you will never be with them… like 99.9% sure and you know if you tell them in that blatant way that it is going to hurt their feelings beyond belief and having been there… you just don’t want to do it?
I was put in that position not long ago. In the middle of my jaw dropping through the floor, I realized that the situation that I was now in, is the same situation that I had placed AZ in, more than once, about whether or not we were going to give it a go. Paybacks are a bitch. Karma sucks. Here’s a brief transcription of what was said between us, paraphrased of course.
Inanna: I realized what I had put you through.
AZ: You didn’t put me through anything.
Inanna: Yes, I did.
AZ: You did not put me through anything.
Inanna: AZ, I know that you have avoided having certain conversations with me for this very reason.
AZ: Good call.
Inanna: I know now how difficult it must have been the first time you told me (referring to 1992) and its not an easy thing to say to someone that you really care about and don’t want to hurt. It must have been very hard.
AZ: Yeah, it was hard.
Now, I’m going to get all mushy and feminine and show that soft side of myself. I wanted him to know that. I wanted him to know that I understood, finally, everything that went into what he said, and what he didn’t say. I wanted him to know that I did know why he wasn’t with me and that I also understood that it came from a deep caring for me that he didn’t tell me. We all say we want the truth… but we really don’t. The truth hurts. It hurt when in the midst of trying not to hurt one of the people I care about very, very much, that I realized that I had put him in that very position.
I did, very much, realize what I meant to him in that moment. Say what you want… but think about it. Why didn’t I tell my friend the truth? The blatant, no holds barred, this is how it really is, truth? Because I love him as a friend, I care for him very deeply and I did not want to inflict that pain upon him. Is it bad to withhold the truth when the truth may set them free? We can all sit and say, “hell yeah, that’s not fair!” Well, life isn’t fair is it?
And let’s face it… it’s a selfish thing too. We don’t want to lose that person. We want to keep them close to us on our own terms. That’s the truth. That is 100% truth. Its also 100% selfish. Human nature. AZ realizes though, that I do have the capacity to move on. I may come full circle a lot but I can move on. I’m not so sure about my friend. That remains to be seen and desperate times may call for those heartbreaking, desperate measures.
I think the conversation I had with AZ today probably ranks in the top three conversations we’ve had in 12 years and 9 months, and we’ve had a lot of conversations. I also learned something else by talking to him about it. While being the dumpee, or whatever, in these types of situations sucks, its really two hearts that break.
It was also important to me because of this:
a) Anytime I would address anything of this magnitude with him, I wrote it in a letter because I didn’t have the self-confidence to do it in person or on the phone.
b) I didn’t become overly emotional, meaning, I didn’t cry.
c) I told him the WHOLE truth, even if I thought the story leading into my discovery would make him jealous (yes, I know) or perhaps not see me in so great a light. I didn’t gloss over any details. It was straightforward.
d) I wasn’t nervous. I did hear his jaw drop on the floor a few times, and once it fell right through, but it was important that he know what lead me to this point.
e) It felt good to share it with him.
Ha, he said at one point, after discussing the fact that, yes indeed, its been almost 13 years since we met, that were getting old. Shhhhh… I said, no, we’re not, its just a number and I don’t look at you any differently now than I did then. I meant that. Creative visualization, because we’ve both changed a lot emotionally and intellectually. Physically, we’re both still HOT! And then the conversation turned toward, “now, how many friends can you say you’ve known for 13 years?” Ummm… you and Beanie. And damn if you’re not both Sagittarians!!! He got a little quiet when I said that. Not sure why….
So, now he knows and I know and he knows that my “wild” side…. oh its coming out to play. (I think he may enjoy that a bit) and…
I know that had it not been for you, look at yourself in the mirror, YOU, reading my shite, encouraging me and helping me along, I couldn’t have done it. I wouldn’t be where I am right now if it wasn’t for you. Thanks. *smooch*
Survival of the Sickest is the song and video I have been overdosing on in the past few days. It takes a while for the video to load but afterwards is the uncensored version of the song and a multitude of hot vixens modeling Salivawear. Josey Scott (lead singer) and Dave Novotny (bassist) are on my list of Men I’d Love to Fuck. You can also sign up to win a trip to NYC, to see them in concert and meet the band. Eh, too bad Josey is married.
Survival of the Sickest has become my personal anthem for the time being.
1, 2, 3, 4!!!
I’m a hand up mona lisa’s dress
I’m a smile on every criminal you’ll ever acquit
I’m the things you’ve done you’d never admit
Cause one hand is on the bible and the other’s in shit
But right now, your face is in the crowd
I’m shouting out loud
The one you counted out of the game
Take a good look at me now
Should have never had a doubt
Is that you out hear screamin’ my name?
I’m a roller
I’m a rider
I’m number one motherfucking survivor
So move over
I’m a driver
I’m high and i’m keep gettin higher
Yeah yeah yeah!
Yeah yeah yeah!
I’m the one you thought that you could erase
But a predator that’s faster than the food that it chased
You fall off the horse
You brought to the race
I’ll be the one who’s flyin’ by ya
Kickin’ shit in your face
I’m a roving, another love rider
I’m a roving
I’m a rider baby (Yeah yeah)
So ease down
And wrap your legs around me baby
Wrap your legs around me
And wrap your legs around me baby
Wrap your legs around me!
Come on baby, get on your knees
I’m gonna drive this little red love machine
This song just KICKS ASS!
Big Boss tells me LM had a mini-meltdown yesterday and wonders if my conversation with him lead to it or if it was the fact that he and Karla are supposed to go to New York City for a romantic weekend and she’s backed out or something. Hmmmm….
Vain, conceited… that’s me. It can also mean self-centered and selfish, which I can say I’m not, except in very specific ways. I’m also not conceited, I’m convinced. Ha.
Not just delusions of grandeur but also a passion for big things… or doing big things. I guess you can take that … just about anyway you want.
Saw one of our resident, highly visible homeless peeps this morning. He had on a very nice dress and new (to him) high heel type shoes. His make-up looked nice too. I wouldn’t tell him though. He’s really one of those that is mentally unstable… very unstable. The thought of what type of men he attracts makes me shiver to the bottom of my soul.
I tried a new oatmeal this morning, Cinnamon Pecan, a microwave only oatmeal. It was good. Its recommendable. I love cinnamon though… its my favorite spice. I love cinnamon toast. Toast….. mmmmmmmm.
I e-mailed JP this morning and promptly made my self horny. Not that this is a difficult thing to do. Why can’t I just have a Steve? Just one week with him. Sex before work, sex in the shower, sex on the bed, sex on the stairs, ohhhh sex in the graveyard. Would we dare? I’m not sure he would be attracted to me though, I don’t have much of an ass and there wouldn’t be much chase involved, unless you count how many times he would have to crook his finger.
I have a craving to give a blowjob. I crave that like I crave sex. It’s a purely selfish thing I assure you. I want to do it, I love to do it. I want it, want it, want it. Mmmmmm… would love to have AZ offer up his piece as a sacrifice to my heathen tongue.
You gotta fight! For your right! To parrrrrty!! Reminds me of Michael, the Beastie Boys but not particularly that song.
Asked the shoe shop guy if he would help me with the leather to go on Ang’s bracelet. He said it was gonna cost me… a big hug. Ha. Too bad he didn’t ask for a blowjob because I know that’s what he really wanted. There are just some things you can see in a person’s eyes. If he only knew. Bwhwhahahhaha….
Remember to ASK WITH SPECIFICITY!!!