deception

last week I felt so restful
so whole
in purpose, in opportunity

my sense of self returning
the breadth of torso
all the things in it

coming back from that shrinking sucking edge



I was deceived
you bitch you deceived me

we deceived ourselves

this could be a GREAT emo song

I have had a hard time
getting this right
nothing supernatural
is shedding it's light

catastrophe is what it took to make me see
that anything good inside has never been me

shaving off the sick skin
in petals of red
surely not the first time
it's come to my head

catastrophe puckering wrinkles of despair
there is nothing else here nothing to spare

when there's a stillness
unfocus my eyes
I know this is not bliss
it's just getting high

catastrophe more profound than i've ever known
took away my future what I thought was my own

Ha!

Remember the bat??

You screamed like a girl, and I hid under the covers....... like a girl?

I miss stuff.

Firefly

Take my love, take my land
Take me where I cannot stand
I don't care, I'm still free
You can't take the sky from me
Take me out to the black
Tell them I ain't comin' back
Burn the land and boil the sea
You can't take the sky from me
There's no place I can be
Since I found Serenity
But you can't take the sky from me...

I listened to this 14 times this weekend, it's kinda in my head. My neck is sore from sitting weird to watch lappy on the bed.

I'm not the first to say it, I'm sure I won't be the last, but SCREW YOU FOX for being such a moran and canceling that show. It was wicked good. I haven' seen the movie, but I'm dl'ing the new heroes tonight, and Serenity too.

why write it down?

First it was it's just sex

nothing serious

then it was I'm in a relationship

it's not like I'm getting married it's not like we're engaged





i see what you did there

and and and

I thought I'd have more to say, but I'm empty right now I guess. I'm pushing everyone away. I want to be alone with my grief for a while. It's fucking stupid that it took a status update on a pointless website to make it real for me.

I won't be calling or txting him anymore. I'm guessing that this first week will be the hardest. Then it will get easier. Each day, each week, each month, it will get easier to be without him....

....and I'll be getting thinner

....and stronger

....and closer to being out of debt

....and better at living for myself

Rebirth? Walls?

Ok so.

It was like someone you love, that died. That you never thought to see again. And all of a fucking sudden they come back. For like one goddamn night.

And there are all these restrictions, what to talk about, what not to. Or it will end the spell.

There were...

Fuck this. I never want to meet anyone again that's dead. I don't want to push my eyes against that inscrutable wall ever again.

Breach it, throw it down, or turn your face away from the monstrosity, and live with what it represents, even if you don't love it.

I cannot pretend it doesn't exist.

Low blood sugar, obviously.

It's been 3 days. And Im not going to call you. It's been since tuesday, and I know you're not going to call me. The taping is next thursday, and if you show up, it will be the first time I've seen you since August.

You told me that you needed me.

I messed around with a guy this week. I could have slept with him. I sort of wanted to, I might next time. I don't give a shit about him. I guess that's kinda new. Maybe I'm just so lonely at this point it doesn't have to mean anything? I've never felt like that before.

Sometimes I can be so rational. You don't need me, you just need someone. You'll eventually meet a girl who will make you forget all about me, and I'll never cross your mind but as a vague feeling. That was nothing but a drunken conversation, and you didn't mean any of the parts that I wanted to hear, only the parts that were hard. Sometimes I can think those things and feel calm and understand that they are reality.

And sometimes I let myself linger on the other parts. "You look really good, I need you, you're so important to me, I couldn't stand you thinking that I don't care...." Hearing you get all choked up.

Then I think about the lying, how quickly you jumped into bed with someone else, how you keep saying over and over 'I don't know'.

I guess I know, when I'm rational. You're young, you want to experience as many women as possible, play the field, while you still can. You'll eventually get sick of that, and you'll find someone else to settle down with. I wonder how long that will take.

Anyway. By then I'll hopefully be happily adjusted to being alone, or dating someone who treats me right.

I can't allow myself to think that we will ever have another chance at happiness together. It's just not realistic.

Broke as a Joke Creamy Ramen Delight

What you'll need:

Scavenging potential for:
Veggies def, Meat.. hopefully?
I Block Ramen - any Flvr
Water - I KNOW you've got that
Flour
Bullion - as available
Spices - as available

Put some water on a back burner for the noodles (don't add em yet), bring it up to a simmer, let it hang out.

Scour your freezer for any frozen veggies, and hopefully you'll find some meatballs left over from when you had some money, I did! Yes! But if you have left over whatever, chicken, tofu, porks, grab it.

In a smallish saucepan, melt about 1 tbs butter, then stir in enough flour to make a nice roux. Generally bout as much butter as you used. When it comes together, scrape that stuff out into a medium bowl.

In the same pan, add about 1.5 cup water, the ramen packet, (I used beef cause I found meatballs) and whatever bullion and spices you have. Light simmer here.

Okay, so on to the delight. If your veggies and/or meat are frozen, you can either nuke em, or blanch them in the ghetto broth you just made. When your delight ingredients are at least room temp, throw them in the bowl with the roux, and mix that crap right up, so everything is well coated. Extra moisture at this point is good, get the roux working on it's creamy stylins.

So now, you can crank the water for the noodles, and throw them in when it's ready. I suggest overcooking them a little, because they're going to soak up the sauce, and that might make for a slightly thicker dish than you're really looking for.

Okay, so grab a rubber spatula and scrape all the yummy delight-ness into your saucepan with the ghetto broth. Low simmer here, and stir till all is well incorporated. The ghetto broth will get nice and creamy, like a stroganoff sauce. Totally delight.

When noodles are ready, drain completely, toss in a bowl, and cover with your Ghetto Saucy Delight.

Enjoy with sweet thoughts of the cash dollar greenbacks you saved trotting through your mind.

See, ramen CAN be classy!

scooters

and so

if for the rest of my life

you don't love me

...

/all

Disk cleanup.

Running on my machine right now, nothing else really to do except update this here whatever this is.

I had a damaging conversation on Wednesday, and I fixed it right up with a cheezburger at ruby tuesdays. I was thinking about them all day, and I haven't had a burger in like... months, so it was extra satisfying. Plus, I get a hankering for that salad bar every so often, it's really good.

Oh, I know, that's terribly exciting. I know you wanted to know how much satisfaction I found in my buffalo burger. /fascinated

Something that is interesting and possibly awesome to other people/my future self, is that I've lost a ton of lbs, and I'm on a demanding but awesome gym routine that I really enjoy and will stick with.

I've realized that I love lifting. Love it. 3 days a week, 2 days of what Tina calls 'active recovery' where you just steady cardio, no crazy intervals or anything. It's really great, I'm never bored, and I actually look forward to getting to the gym and sweating out the shit of the day.

It's nuts how you have to force yourself to get motivated.... so you can be motivated. It's like what Julie's been saying since the breakup: "Fake it till it's real". It's really true. If you have to do something that seems impossible, just fake it. Fake that you feel nothing, fake that you have the motivation to do something, fake that you're in control.

Eventually, you realize that it just happened, without you even knowing it, without really even trying. You just pretended your way past a bad breakup, into a weight loss program that works, and through a mental breakdown. When you finally come to your senses, you realize that maybe all that trauma was necessary. Healthy even.

Hmn. I'll be considering this.

the most redic

So the stupidest thing ever is that I just cut my fingernails.

And you know why that's stupid?

Because I know this is the third time I've cut my nails since we broke up.

Seriously? Am I going to think about things like that forever? Will I always count the clippings in reference to that day? I remember cutting them off and going "Oh, here we go, just another piece of me being taken away...."

On another note, Julie hates me now for some reason I can't comprehend. Was it because I tried to take her home that night? Or because I apologized for it?

I've lost almost 25 lbs. I guess being heartsick is good for something. /shrug

Calm.

I missed you like an addiction
shaking for the next spike
sick with desire and
terrible hollow longing

now

I miss you as I miss a warm breeze in winter
the full summer sun warming my bones
the slow rapture of what
you hope for with your eyes closed

and have to believe will come again.

no stranger

I'm no stranger to despair
we're tight
head bob up
not a slow nod
we're on speaking terms
sharing a beer at closing time
putting a extra 5 on the tab
for dealing
for things unsaid
for the 20 your gonna owe me
tomorrow

death

I guess I've finally accepted it.

Apparently you do know what you want. A 21 year old replacement.

I can't believe that you threw it all away.

I don't want you back.

its over.

Today is agony, tomorrow is impossible. The rest of my life is filled with weeks and months of tomorrows.

This is the rest of my life without him. It has to start somewhere.

I'm broken.

No Ugly People

Haven't updated in a while.

There was a bat in our room one night. Lucas squealed like a girl, and I hid under the covers. Like a girl.

Stacy and I planted the garden, and things are growing. I am excited about tomatoes, and I want to make some mint lemonade. we need to harvest some herbs before they go bye bye. I'm also excited about watermelons. I've never grown those before.

We've also been trying to hit the gym pretty regular. I lost 3 lbs, then instantly gained them back over the 4th of July weekend. Pfft. Lame.

Nothing terribly embarrassing or horrible has happened in a while.

But today I thought about the time when Brandon was mean about taking out the trash. He had done it once at the epping house, and I guess it was gross. Maggots, etc. After taking the trash out by myself for a months at newfields, I said something. Apparently he took some kind of offense. His face got all red and he mocked my voice all bitchy like... I really don't think I've ever been so angry and not let it show. I laughed it off, while inside I was punching holes in his throat.

I should have known what I was in for when he said, seriously, that they don't hang out with ugly people.

I hadn't thought about that in a while.

7 Questions. 2 Answers.

Why do I have to be so sensitive?

How can I be so responsible about little things, and totally neglect the big things in life that make or break you?

Will there always be days like this?

How can I stop myself from ignoring things that I would rather not deal with, which escalates and exacerbates the problem?

Where is all my willpower?

Will I ever be able to look at myself in the mirror and like what I see?

Can I be stronger, more confident, or is it beyond me?

I'm the only one who can answer these questions.

I'm the only one that can change me.

I got to first base!

This week at kickball, (with the help of my wicked white new sneaks) I made it to first base, and actually caught a fly ball for an out.

Yeah Kicking Balls!

That being said, we lost 20-1, and there was a dismal lack of effort from most of the team. There's a mercy rule where you get to 7 runs, you switch the inning. That's how we count down the innings, not by outs. We're dreadfully over matched every time.

It's really too bad. It would be more fun if we could actually compete. Most teams are full of huge jocks, and have just the token amount of females required.

In fact, this game, we had 2 dudes, and the other team had 3 girls. It really takes all the fun out of it, probably for their team too. There's no actual competition, they just kill kill kill.

Also, the last two games we played should have been forfeits, if we were playing by the rules. I guess we're just playing to play, but...by playing games that should be forfeits, we're improving other teams records, and destroying (not difficult considering the starting point) our own.

We know we're going to lose, and lose big, but play anyway, jacking up our points scored against number. I mean, we could just see how high we can get that number. That might be funny. I wonder if there's a prize for the biggest losers...

Stupid fucking democrats...

Ok, so I'm a little older now, and a little less stupid. Which means I'm a little less left, and a little more center. More interested in what's being done with the money raped from my paycheck by the federal government, and more aware of the world and people around me.

For the past three weeks, no one has picked up our trash. Finally, this morning, in a perplexed rage, I called the public works department. I explained the situation, and was put on hold, while, apparently, he called the guys on the truck.

"Yup," he said, "You got yourself tagged for recycling. So you just have to separate that stuff out, and call us, we'll come pick it up."

I was confused. We put out recycling, and we had seperated it. I mentioned this. He reiterated his explanation. I said,

"So, let me get this straight, maybe I'm not understanding. I have to go through almost a month's worth of decomposing garbage, take out anything that might be recyclable, then you'll take the trash?"

"That's right."

"........Uh..." I can't decide whether to laugh, or get nasty, or tell this guy that it's waaaaayy past April fools, and he'd better have a real explanation.

Lucas, who had come into the kitchen and heard my last sentence, says,

"Just say OK."

"....uh... ok, thanks?" I hang up the phone, bewildered, and not a little bit pissed off.

"When did they start going through people's trash?"

"That what happens when you live in a town full of liberal fucking Democrats!" Says Lucas.

"Shit, I guess so. Man."

My god. When did I become someone who became exasperated by democrats? I guess I'm growing into my Live Free Or Die boots more than I thought, turning a little purple. It's been happening for a while, I guess.

I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm all for recycling. But garbage men policing my trash for a beer bottle or juice container?? I understand that it's my responsibility to recycle what I can, and help save the environment by putting less shit in the landfills, but really.

I guess that's it. I can't stand the concept of legislating things that should be left up to personal responsibility and common sense. Like wearing a seatbelt, smoking, making sure your car isn't going to fall apart and kill you or someone else, drugs, or whatever. It just seems like such a waste of time, resources and money.

Really? I just don't want to.

So when someone calls up to invite you somewhere you don't want to go, there are two ways to decline:

"My couch is way more interesting right now, call me later." (aka Truth)

or

"Oh, I'd love to, but I have to [insert fictional excuse here]" (aka Lies)

I like the Truth better. I like getting it, and giving it. It's not always applicable though. Sometimes you have to lie, and there's a further branching. What it comes down to is you saying:

I really don't like you. Stop calling. No, really.

or

I know (or can't tell if) the Truth would hurt your feelings.

Sometimes if you're on the receiving end of the Lie, it's hard to tell which branch you're getting.

Then there's always the possibility that you're just paranoid, and really, they'd love to come, but, sheesh, SOMEone's gotta wash the hamster!

Gender ...... Politics!

We're at the New Aisa on Saturday night, and having a grand ol' time. I can't remember who said it first, but the end result was everyone at the table looking at me as Derek exclaimed "Wow, you are SO outnumbered at this table!". Much hilarity ensued, and I answered: "So?" Then made some comment like "Doesn't bother me!" and mocked that limp wristed wave we all know and love.

It didn't even occur to me before he mentioned it.

I can't imagine being the kind of person that thinks someone else's' sexual preference is my business. Instead, I worry, as all friends will: Is he good to you? Do you trust her? Is it love? I've never really understood this obsession with what parts of who's body goes where. How can it matter when hearts are involved?

I heard on the radio the other day, someone talking about the younger generations these days, and how much easier it was for us to choose a presidential candidate, because of our tolerance and acceptance of all kinds of people.

He seemed surprised at this, and the piece had a slightly mocking tone. Implying not that we have moved beyond the prejudices and bigotry of our elders, but that we're just too lazy, or too naive, to pursue them.

It made me furious.

How dare you mock us for acceptance? How can a yearning for peace and camaraderie possibly be something to ridicule?

We will unite, and flourish, while you seek only to divide, and conquer.

Mean little mind.

I had an extremely chill weekend, and damn, it was fine.

We went to my P's house, and the boy helped them plot out the steps to a beautiful patio in front of the new shed. He's going to help them do it up right and get them contractor deals and stuff if he can. I love that they love him, and value him and his opinions.

I saw the ex last tuesday night, and I was pretty much half in the bag. I was embarrassed and kind of upset afterwards, and ended up crawling down to the end of that stinking bag to escape it. I felt horrible the next day, but went into work anyway, feeling stupid and sorry for myself. I talked (read: IMed/Emailed) with a couple of friends and they were both really supportive.

The best thing was "...just don't think about it too much. it doesn't matter what he thinks. you're happy. you have a ton of friends and a great boyfriend. that's all that matters." That pretty much bitch-slapped me out of my rut of self pity and mortification.

I realized that it's totally true. I DO have a bunch great friends, I DO have a great boy, and that really IS all that matters. I was stressed out about who he was making disparaging remarks to about me, and her comment made me realize: The only people he was barking to were people that I don't know, I don't care about anymore, or don't care about me. So really.... who cares?

He can have his fun making nasty comments about my weight, or how drunk I was on a school night, or the other myriad things I'm sure his mean little mind was putting away for later perusal and disgorgement. He can go ahead and do that, because he doesn't affect me anymore.

I've never before had the kind of relationship that I have now. I've never had the circle of real friends that I have now. I have an awesome relationship with my Parents and my Sister. I have it really good. I'm not going to let him spoil it for one more second.

last night

my head on your outflung arm
ribcages touching
the steady rise and fall
I become aware
tandem

now, conscious of it
do I try to keep the rhythm?

was the synchronization of our bodies
unnoticed
more meaningful?

are you aware
and match your breath to mine?

I am falling asleep, slowly claimed
into dreams uncharted

we align again

Somehow written in a cubicle.

Sometimes when I sit down at the computer and start making mental noises, intending to write, I find myself forgetting to think. I type the first thing that comes to mind, regardless of it's relevance or authenticity. I fail to consider why I'm sitting here with the little nubs under my forefingers, or what it is that I want to accomplish.

I think, when I was younger, shallow, and longing constantly to find out what's next, this approach worked for me. I had my eyes locked on the internal maelstrom, and all I could grasp were the flotsam flying by me, tossed up in the spray. I had no interest in the shadowy lurking things detaching themselves from the bottom, avoiding the flashing center and whipping along, far, far from the surface.

I don't have that luxury now. Those shadowy behemoths have breached the surface, swum along it at length. Some have settled in permanently, having dropped their scaly anchors, and go about sending scouting parties, looking for land. I should have known, I should have been warned. I should have posted sentries, set tripwires, floating mines.

I suppose though, that every story (life) must have conflict to win through in triumph, must face loss to believe in love. If those terrors had never reached me, if they had lingered in the deeps and never challenged me for these seas that have settled somewhat and that I call my own... well. I would clutch still at the glittering spray, and catch nothing.

Where you at?

Sis is gone off to tromp through the woods, the boy and I are waiting for some money to fall from the heavens, and roomie is still unemployed.

I continue to be the maid, secretary, chef, lawyer, PR liason, garbage man, dishwasher, accountant, and primary bread winner in the household.

I think I've hit the wall as far as roommates are concerned. I think the only way I'd be able to carry on with it is if A) We had our own bathroom B) We set up some kind of Clean Standard.

I wish we had a porch, a pool and less neighbors. :) And I want to stay in town. Lottery? Where you at?

Email To My Sister

This might be an indication of the state of my brain right now.

I was checking out headlines and one said:

"Turkey blocks YouTube access"

I laughed, out loud, as I thought "How can a turkey stop the internet?"    

Yeah.

Another Reason to Drink:

I bought some j crew cords on the cheap.  I love them, but the fucking things are black and attract fuzz like they were made for no other reason. 

 

Packing Tape + Empty Champagne Bottle = Lint Roller. 

 

I am a genius.

Scientific Results Prove That Cheese Is Good

It's almost noon, and I've only recieved ONE email from my sister. Just one! Plus it was from... 8:00, so I've been all done writing back for like HOURS!

Email about orange finger:

K: I bought some baked cheetos. As an experiment. A scientific one. To prove.... scientific facts. Like...... cheese is good. yeah, I want to prove that one, so I got baked cheetos. I'm pretty all for the scientific method. That involves junk food and the study of the elusive "orange finger" right? Yeah, I thought so.

T:i'm going to be doing a study on orange finger as it relates to sunchips later. we'll see what the scientific evidence reveals. probably that cheese is good.

K:**********CRITICAL UPDATE CRITICAL UPDATE***************

ACCORDING TO OUR CALCULATIONS, BAKED CHEETOS ARE JUST AS GOOD, IF NOT BETTER THAN REGULAR CHEETOS AND HAVE 1/2 THE FAT. HOLY SHIT BATMAN WE'VE GOT TO MAKE SURE THE PRESIDENT KNOWS OR GOTHAM WILL BE RIOTING IN THE STREETS!!!!!!

*********END CRITICAL UPDATE END CRITICAL UPDATE*********

T: My collegue, i may have to reproduce your study as soon as possible, so i can refute your findings. i'll get my data to you as soon as i complete my analysis.

in related news, harvest cheddar sunchips are not as good as we previously believed. i find that their flavor and orangeness is greatly surpassed by the "cheddar and sour cream lays potato chip".

My sister and I are wicked funny. I don't care if you don't understand it. It's probably because you're dumb, that's why you don't get it. Or because your first and last name doesn't start with K.

Dreams Job

So, the four day weekend was welcome, if the circumstances requiring it were not. It sure makes it harder to get out of bed and drag myself into the boredom and dreariness of the cube farm.

I had a dream last night that I worked for a fashion house, making stuff for a famous label. I divided my time between Boston and Portsmouth. There was an in-house contest for one of the women who worked there, I guess she needed a dress for an event or something. The thing that won was a big sparkly sequined thing with mickey and minnie mouse on it. She was thrilled, everyone else was horrified. It looked more like a purse than a dress, really, and wouldn't stop changing size.

I dreamed I loved my job.

In the building where I worked, there was a huge elevator. It brought me up to my studio, which was situated in between floors, very sneaky like. I had to screw with the elevator to get it to let me off. There, I was creating a city in clothes. Sky scrapers of suit coats, pumps cobbling the streets, arm holes were windows with belts defining the panes. It was huge and beautiful, and I was so proud of it.

I woke up, disappointed and tired, to ready myself for the first day of another week of seemingly endless drudgery. No, drudgery is the wrong word. I'm looking for something that describes sitting in a cubicle, scouring the internet for something that looks kind of like work so the people walking by my cubicle will be fooled into thinking that I'm doing something important when all I'm really doing is making a 10 minute project take an hour. Is there a word for that?

I was so happy in my dream.

Banky, I'm going to leave you.

Oh, ok bank. No that's cool.

First you fuck up my deposit, so I freak out and think my rent check's going to bounce.

Then, you tell me there's nothing you can do, and I should call back after the shit has hit the fan, and try to get any overdraft charges removed. Gosh, you were so helpful.

Now, somehow, my money is there, but it's the wrong amount. It's only off by six dollars, so I'm just going to take it, which is exactly what you want me to do. Take that ass raping, and don't you say a word.

I hate ** Banknorth. I am closing my checking account and dealing only with my Local Credit Union from now on.

It's like trying to decide between the old lover that you've been with since high school, who occasionally hits you, and even though he tells you when he's drunk and you shouldn't provoke him, you do it accidentally, and end up in the hospital, but you're so USED to him....or the new lover, who answers the cell phone any time of night, sends you emails about the bad weather and insists you drive safely, or he'll pick you up, and holds you tenderly at night while you sleep.

In other words, there's no fucking reason to dawdle over that one, is there?

Those sonsah bitches have screwed me over for the very last time. I'm not going to take it anymore.

TD ****NORTH, I'M LEAVING YOU! FOR GOOD THIS TIME!

Everyone has one of these...

On Friday, I took time off work so I could get to the DMV and have my license renewed. For which I paid $50. (RIPOFF) In my rush to get the hell out of there, I forgot my sunglasses. They're prescription, and fairly expensive, plus, I'm kind of attached to them.

I call the number the DMV website says to, and this ancient person answers the phone in a creaky almost whisper. No way to determine gender. Thinking that I've reached the Dover Point Sta ton, I start to explain, and it cuts me off with "This is Concord. You'd have to talk to the folks down at the Dover Point Station" It proceeds to explain that speaking to them is impossible, because there's only three lines, and they're tied up.

I struggle with this concept. It's 2008. How are there only three phone lines at an government office that's supposed to serve the ENTIRE STATE OF NEW HAMPSHIRE?

"You'll have to go down there and talk to them." is The Mummy's only, useless, advice. I thank it and hang up, because the tone coming out of my earpiece easily conveys: "Three phone lines is the very end of my capability, asking for any problem solving on my part will confuse and frighten me, and infuriate you." So I let it go.

I called 4 other numbers, with similar, and in one case, creepy results. Once, I got a recorded message, and when I pressed zero for the operator, a weird robot voice informed me that no one could help me. Receiving a condemnation that terse and final from a recording at a government agency was kind of startling. "Wow," I thought, "even their robots are bitter, disagreeable jerks."

So, as usual, I finally get a person on the phone with a tiny slice of wit when I'm at the very end of my patience and endurance, and it shows. She explains the situation to me like the others, saying there's no way to call that office, because all the lines are diverted to Concord. At this point, I snap.

"Listen, your office hours there are a pain in the ass. I'm not taking time off of work to drive all the way up there when a phone call can settle this for me. I JUST WANT TO KNOW IF THEY'RE THERE! How do YOU get in touch with them, if there's no phones there?"

A pause. "I can call them for you?"

Ah, ok, I think, ok ok. Calm.

"That would be awesome, thank you."

Apparently only one out of five clerks at the DMV are capable of:

A) thinking

B) using a phone

The lack of killing sprees at DMV offices is actually kind of surprising. I can't imagine choosing the USPS as the outlet for my psychotic death rampage when the DMV is sitting there, just asking for it.

Blame Lucas

This is your fault Lucas, so if it sucks, you have no one to blame but yourself. :D