argh.

i have no idea what to write...
I can talk about J flabbergasting me this evening by telling me I have him wrapped around my little finger if I want to assert that...
I don't know how I feel about this, it just flabbergasted me. And I'm still a bit poleaxed over it.... I don't like that kind of control over people. I don't like giving people that kind of control over me and I don't like having that kind of control. I made a pithy comment about 'Autonomy!' and left it at that, which was decidedly unsatisfying.
What do you tell people that say (in effect) "You have huge amounts of power over me"?

The alternate dimension is grating on me lately. We got a new supervisor of supervisors. I would say no big deal, but you know how you can just feel that someone doesn't like you and will never like you, that you just rub them the wrong way so it's best if you stay out of direct contact? Yeah...doesn't work so well if they're above the person above you.
You start wondering if everything you do is wrong or if your job is in jeopardy because you might have said or done something months and potentially years ago to piss off the big boss. It's been stressful, to say the least. And it's all well and good to say 'take a day off', but apparently, I can't even do that properly. Sic-un has been hollerin' to gather up PTO and take a 'real' vacation next year. So I requested time off as unpaid. Denied. Ok. So I can't take time off unless it's paid. OK... So now I have to take all time off as paid and there goes any vacation plans for the future because my attendance at the place is shit. As soon as one absence rolls off, I manage to get another one. I've been on 3 1/2 to 4 1/2 absences for a fucking year now. So I'm trying to get my attendance cleaned up so I CAN call in for the bullshit days, when I really can't muster up the bubble, you know? And yes. Attendance counts. Each absence stays on your record for a month, if you don't call in for a month, you get 1 absence off. So what's been happening with mine, you may ask. I got it down to 2 1/2 and then headache. Or cramps so bad I can't move. Or car fucked up, or broken toe or sick... It counts unless I go to the doctor (money I can't afford) and get a note and a 'return to work by' date..

And the stress...it weighs heavily.

It's all coming down to money, unfortunately. I keep hoping to win the jackpot (faithfully buying $5 in tickets every payday), and realize I won't, but I can hope to get it. I was going to take Monday & Tuesday off to go find a couch since I have to shop for it and arrange for delivery and all that... That's what I was denied. The reason? Oh, well, you have the weekends to go shopping.
I didn't ask for your validation of my reason. I asked for approval to not show up to work and get something done that needed done.

I'm just having a bad time of it. I'm under stress and not sleeping and not hungry for food, although I'll take junk food at any time, apparently. I"m poor and I hate my job and I want to have FUN and there isn't a whole lotta fun. I've just got a lot of people wanting to use me as a sounding board and nobody wants to hear me. "OOOh, I've got this new gaming group up even though you have no interest in this particular game, I'm going to wax poetic about it for your entire break!' Thin smile and no interest doesn't work. I'm going to have to be direct and blunt and I hate to be direct and blunt. I suck at it. I stammer and my face turns red and it's embarrassing-the blushing, not the tasks- to have your face go bright red at a moment's notice.


So. Stress. And no...just to forestall any helpful suggestions: A stress ball does NOT work for this. I'm gonna have to tough it out. But thanx for listening I appreciate it.

Something about Wednesday...

Yes, Dear Reader, I know it's Thursday. It's actually 9:11 am on Thursday, and I've been up since 6:45. Awake since 6:38. Sitting here, in the quiet morning, it occurred to me that my worst insomnia days are Wednesdays. I took a muscle relaxant last night, threw a Mike's on top, and it still took me forever to be tired enough to fall asleep... I went to bed at 2:15 this morning, after waking up at 7:50 Wednesday morning. 4 1/2 hours of sleep.
I don't like this. I really don't like my insomnia and long for the days where I could sleep for 14 hours and then take a nap a few hours later. It makes me tired and grouchy and just colors the day ick.
I also realized I don't really eat on Wednesdays... We may have had pasta last Wednesday... We were planning on pasta last night. Then I got home, Sosu wasn't here, texted him-no, he wasn't going to be home, but he scrubbed the bathtub-and I decided I just wasn't hungry. Later, I had some popcorn with parmesan-no butter (Sosu had the last of it the other day. Payday is tomorrow. Grocery shopping is either Friday night or Saturday morning.) and just wasn't hungry. Then pasta last week, week before that I'm sure was something quick, dirty and just graze. Tracking my food made me realize my diet is still shit, but not for what I'm eating...it's how I'm eating. I don't, typically, get enough calories. I'm just not hungry.
I wonder if the 2 are related, the insomnia and not eating, but the superstitious side of me screams "It's because it's WEDNESDAY, you idiot!"
I always have vague feelings of doom Wednesday mornings. The old poem says Wednesday's child is full of woe. Slight problem...I was born on a Tuesday. That's a laugh. I am NOT graceful. But doom-y days of the week aside, Wednesdays are usually when bad things happen for me.
I've been having car trouble lately, Lance doesn't want (yes, I named 'it' 'Lance', thereby changing 'it' from sexless to male) to keep his alternator belt on without a whole lot of checking, fussing, tightening and cursing. I've also been late to Alternate Dimension 2x because of him. Monday I took a do-over. I just said 'Do Over'. Yesterday, I ended up working over to make up for it so it doesn't count.
Maybe it's stress. I don't really have huge amounts to be stressed over, though. We have food, there's a roof over our heads, we're making our bills. What worries?
Yes, I'm being sarcastic. Prices have gone sky high. Milk, just a couple years ago, was $2.58 a gallon. Now? $3.59. At it's cheapest. And yes...I do shop around. I have also started using coupons. And trying for discount gas on my shopper's card. The dryer went out, and the couch is almost unusable. Lance keeps freaking out here and there (and I *really* cannot afford a car payment. I have $20 in my checking account right now, and $10 on the table. That's it. Really REALLY cannot afford a car payment) and is just more cause for bits of stress and worry... Sic-un. He worries me. He hurts, I can do nothing about it, and it just...
I love him. I worry about him. Sosu. Worry about him. I worry about all the people I love, really. Kinda bites sometimes, but you suck it up and deal, right? And I know it's hard all over, most people are going paycheck to paycheck, and I say I'm lucky I have no house payment-rent means no property taxes, either- no car payment, I'm not in debt up to my eyeballs (I owe $240 on a credit card and I owe the hospital $150 for my ER visit last month), I have food, I can cook, I can get another job if I have to (don't particularly want to, because the job market does suck), but..I'm pretty lucky. I will acknowledge I have stress.

But still... I wonder... What the hell is it about Wednesday?

So another post....

about what? 3 weeks from the first? Just under? Something like?
I have to give pre-warning. I've been drinking.
And since Sosu made my last drink, I feel I may be fading fast....
But first, I felt the need to bitch.
Sosu made my drink, you say? Do I finally have a cabana boy?
Why, yes YES I DO...
And I'm not happy. not really.
I haven't gotten laid in weeks, which is criminal....
The boy moved in like, 3 weeks ago...NOTHING. Some mackin' on the couch and that's about it.
I've been resorting to the toys.
Sic-un? His back's been off because of the weather, but in good news, he now has insurance and only has to wait until January/February until it's not considered to be a pre-existing condition any more.
I've lost a grand total of like, 22 pounds. I think I look pretty damn good, or at least not weird any more. It got to where I felt like I had some kind of fat suit on. Couldn't take it. Couldn't take the jiggle. And I have gotten comments---Usually from women, although J2 said I looked good the other day and a random stranger said I was working the jeans when I stopped at the smoke shop a few weeks ago---But from my partner, from my fuck-buddies?
J may come up the weekend of the 4th. MAY. Gaming is more important. Sic-un has his back---which is causing a serious lack of turn-on... And Sosu is working on a fat chick. Yeah, a fat chick. My luck.
I pick fuckin' chubby chasers and decide to lose fuckin' weight.
I'm feeling really down right now and could really use someone else, someone other than Ms. Hand...even if she is wearing a glove so I get some 'strange'.
I feel like I'm whining and don't particularly want to, but can't seem to help myself.
What the fuck good am I if I can't even get fucked by my fucking partner or either EITHER!!!! of my 2 FWB's??? What the fuck???

Good evening! Or, 8 Talking Points

...and I say Good Evening because it IS still evening. 11:38 by this little clock in the corner. When I notice it as 12...something, I'll say Good Morning. That way, you'll know how long it takes me write and exactly how verbose I can be. I'll also be referencing 1 or 2 back posts here, just to bring you all (3? or are we down to 2?) up to speed.

First... I'd like to request a rollcall. Who's still reading? Even an 'Anon' comment will be welcome.

2. Yes, I've been 4channed. Blame it on Sic-un. He started back on /b/ and got me into /b/ (until he got the 2nd ban laid upon our widdle heads), then I turned to /ck/ and then, finally, to /fit/.
Why?
Well, back here, I posted I thought I had 1 good chance to right the wrongs I've done to my body. That still holds true. As a matter of fact, (ahem)
(drumroll?)

3. I have lost 13 pounds.
(thank you)
At least, when I'm not PMSing. I've been doing cardio (one of the Gazelles, and before you kick me for doing it, it's not a treadmill, you can do SOME different movements on it and I can do a partial squat to work the quads), stepping it up gradually, and on Tuesday last I started up Convict Conditioning, which really is a series of bodyweight lifts designed to work on form. The conditioning gradually makes itself harder, not only changing the form of the exercises but also the length and the duration. For instance, if you start out the pushups by doing wall pushups, it moves you through 1x10 reps to 3x50, and eventually through the various forms until you're doing 1 handed pushups. Here... See??

....and there's a WHOLE SERIES of these-pushups, pullups (wall pullups, then move to bar), squats, jacknife pikes, bridges... Even a headstand so you can get to handstand pushups and walkovers. So I've been doing that. And I bought a dumbbell set. And NO. It's not the girly pink little handweights sold to soccer moms. It's bars and clips and separate plates. True dumbbells. I'm driving Sic-un crazy with running out of the shower practically every morning "SEE??? I HAVE A BICEP!" "LOOK! QUAD COMING OUT!" "FEEL MY HAMSTRINGS!!!!"
And
(can we get another drumroll???)
4. I've cut out almost all the brown fizzy liquids I drank by the gallon. Well, almost by the gallon. It SEEMED like a gallon. Eight 12 ounce cans of Jones in a day, some days. On the weekends, especially. I will say I do still drink somewhere between a partial and 1 full soda most days at work. However, the full soda days are becoming few and far between. I've been trying Gatorade as a stop-gap. Water just gets so... blah? And don't tell me 'Put a flavor pouch in it!'... They all have aspartame which gives me raging headaches. And any of the vitamin waters are  nutritional nightmares. So I've been limiting my sodas to (average) fewer than 1 per day, my water drinking has gone up astronomically and I've been filling the rest in with juices and iced tea.

5. I've dropped a size in my jeans... Did I mention that?...hmmmm.... NO! You didn't hear about my whirlwind shopping venture. I took Sosu with me and I think I kinda scared him. I literally walked through the aisles picking things seemingly at random in a hurry (almost at a dead run) through the stores. It wasn't random. I got a full new wardrobe of GREAT clothes (and went back and picked up the pair of slides and another pair of trousers for work) and I HAVE dropped a size in my jeans. So I picked up a few pair. I've been sticking pretty much with 2 of the 4 I bought because...well, the other 2 pair are just a TAD snug (shows what happens when you assume a size), but I'm looking at it as "I don't have to go jeans shopping again WHEN I drop another size".

Hey... It's 12:06. Good morning!

6. The wild sex life isn't. As soon as I post that I really dig having 2 boyfriends plus a partner, guess who suddenly stops having sex? Yeah... No fault of anyone's, I don't think.  Sic-un keeps tweaking out his back or it's the weather or we're just tired from work. And J hasn't been over in FOREVER. You can insert a scowly face here, Dear Reader. Sosu's been busy avoiding his homelife so he's been trying to stay with friends down in his town so he can still hit school....
Can't say I blame him for the homelife avoidance. His mom has pretty much turned on him mainly because he is saying "I'm 18. I'm growing up. Please do not expect me to be the good little yes man." Only it's not quite in that manner. And I don't think his sister is helping matters any. She seems to have become quite a tattletale. Sic-un's ex wife tells Daughter to call Sic-un and report on any of Sosu's bad behavior. "He stayed out all night and said he was at your house!", things like that... I don't think Sosu quite realizes this CAN BE a safe haven, and for most infractions of any of these 'rules' he's under (from his mother), the most his Dad will do of any 'punishment' is lecture. Like last week... He called, asked if he could spend the night. "Sure." He came in, sat for about 3 minutes, then went and passed out in his room. Fine. Great. I told Sic-un "Watch, he went to a friend's house, was going to spend the night, ingested SOMETHING and now doesn't want to go home to his Mom's because she'll go ballistic." Which is what happened. His friend said "Here, have a drink!" and then when they had been drinking said "Uh, can't spend the night, kicking you out!".... Sosu was offended, which I'm proud of him for. That's a shitty thing to do to a friend, right? No lecture, a little worry.
Stuff like that. So I completely understand why he hasn't been around. He's 18. But the sex life suffers. Part of me minds, but part of me doesn't. And I don't mind because I am trying to get healthier. And I still jiggle.

7.  The reason I've gone on this big healthy kick and trying to get fit and all is because those pictures I took of myself on my birthday-no, you haven't seen them. Nobody is gonna see them until I have some muscles to show and get rid of this fucking gut of mine!-...Those pictures scared me. I was looking at my grandmother's body....

When I was 13 or so, my uncle got married and we went over for the wedding. I watched my grandmother get dressed for the rehearsal dinner, like girls do when they're young and not invited to an evening function. You sit, usually on the end of the bed or perched on the cedar chest and watch as the older woman gets ready, taking note of the process, knowing some day you'll do the same thing, perhaps for your daughter, a niece, a granddaughter: how to check pantyhose for runs, pull out the slip, make sure everything is pressed and tidy and clean and perfect and you touch the silver hairbrush set that's on the dresser, and look at the old pictures of relatives long passed as the woman going out for the evening looks in the mirror and makes sure the lipstick hasn't bled or smeared, one last pat to their hair. You've watched them get dressed and you've seen their body and you wonder if yours will be the same.

In my grandmother's case, she had a great set of legs. TERRIFIC legs. Gramma had gams. Not long legs, but terrific legs.  She was short, under 5'. And she was a large woman, but very graceful, very light on her feet. I always thought it was horrifying that having 10 kids (later found out she had 17 frigging pregnancies or something like) so thoroughly destroyed her body. She had a spherical torso, but these great legs. Very thick, very wide, very round. Round body, great legs. And I think that's how grandmothers should look, really. I don't like the idea of a grandmother being a glamorous older lady who still dresses as if she were 16. I DO like the idea of a grandmother who smiles, is full of hugs and LOOKS like they make a mean cookie. And she did. And that's all fine and dandy when you're talking about a 65 year old who IS a grandmother... It's not so fine when your're talking about a 41 year old who IS NOT EVEN a mother. That woman looks at a picture of herself and flashes back immediately to the wedding in 1983 when she watched her grandmother get ready for the rehearsal dinner.
I got scared.
I'm only 41. I shouldn't look like that. I shouldn't BE like that.
So I decided to change. I'd like to be rid of the round by Xmas. I've already started redeveloping my waist (I HAVE A WAIST!!!). Everything else will follow in due time. And by Xmas should be good.



So that's what I've been up to and doing. Just work and working out and trying to not go crazy insane with PMS and keep my protein levels up and hoping things will maybe be a bit better, soon.

Surprise recipe!  Darkneuro's Brotein Cherry Shake (yes, it contains protein powder...it's my post workout or not so bad for you shake when you want something sweetish)
1/2 cup plain yogurt
1/2 to 1 cup milk/almond milk/soymilk
1/4 to 1/2 cup frozen dark cherries (I use Kroger's Private Selection...they're yummy!)
1 scoop vanilla protein powder (I use Jay Robb whey protein-it's not bad. Still kinda...chemical? But not bad.)
Sweetener of your choice to taste (I've used sugar and some stevia... both work well. Honey is a bit of a different flavor)
Blend it all up with some ice for texture. Brotein shake :)
G'night my loves. Roll call, remember. I'd like to know if anyone still pops in.

this battle is....OVAH...

Christmas meal was good. Ham. Slow roasted, one of the so-called 'city' hams, I braised it, then lightly glazed it. There are leftovers, but an almost-8 pound ham for 3 people? It was picked with leftovers in mind.
We didn't have a tree. No place to put it, really, so we just stacked the wrapped stuff on the chair.
Sos-u likes his robe. His mother purchased him a laptop. He also got a shirt and socks. Well, from me and Sic-un. Picked out by me, and Sic-un gave me money.
Sic-un. Jeans, 2 pair, and a quilted flannel. And socks.
Insert smile here, Dear Reader. Yes, everyone got socks for Christmas.
Even I did, if you count my present to myself.
I have to count the present to myself. Otherwise, I'd be a whiny, grasping little ungrateful pathetic wretch.
Not that anyone has said so.
This is not a label I'd normally give to myself.
But I feel very ungrateful and very...
Whiny and hurt and rather unliked right now.

But see, Dear reader, it's a sad day when one realizes if one wants presents of any sort one must buy them for themselves.

Ungrateful. Grasping. Whiny. Pathetic.

Mom said she hadn't gotten my box off and that's cool. I understand, completely. It was touch and go if the kids gift cards would arrive or not. I understand mailing time.
Sic-un's mom met me once and not under the most auspicious circumstances.  She had no idea my tits were as big as they are, so it's very understandable the pullover didn't fit.
Money's a bit tight, so Sic-un giving me the $ I had spent on Sos-u's presents was very welcome.  And since he has child support to begin with, it's understandable without question.
So it's all very understandable.

There's a sting, though, when one sits and realizes that out of the packages (one) bought specifically for YOU individually outside of the work Secret Santa thingy? You get exactly none. Leading to ungrateful. Grasping. Whiny. Pathetic.

Add to it the insult of your fan belt breaking on Christmas Eve at dusk, right before a snow.

I can say very honestly this Christmas has felt like quite a bit of a battle. I'm tired. I feel drained. The candies turned out OK, but not as good as I hoped. I did less than I thought I'd do, used the day as an excuse to get my loved ones less than I would have liked to. I wanted to get Sic-un the overalls, and some other shirts and more jeans. They both need thermals, and the tipi-creepers were on the list at one time. I was originally going to give out cookie-kits as well, but ran out of flour (of all things) and could only find the $7 cookie scoops, so it really became not economically feasible. Still, enough is as good as a feast, they say.  The work Secret Santa thing netted me a really good smelling candle. Just a jar candle, but it's "Amber and Sandalwood" scented and really pretty smelling.  And there's my socks. And tax time is coming up. I should get somewhere between $800 and $1000, like I have for the past 4 years. I'm planning on shopping with some of it. Conman has laid claim to some of it as well, he with the guitar on his brain.... But I'm going to keep him to right in the $200-300 range. Nothing really higher.

So I feel wretched and greedy and grasping. And I'm really REALLY glad the holiday has now passed.

'Tis the season-

-al affective disorder! It's the only thing I can think of (other than my hormones are quite possibly completely out of whack and this is my PMS time? But I'm only just now getting OVER the last freaking one. YES, TMI. Deal with it. You've read me before if you're reading me now. You know 2 things: I am the queen of all the motherfucking tangents and I give way too much information.) and honestly...
It's giving me blue christmas too.
I say it's SAD because I'm noticing it more on the more cloudy days. It gets REALLY bad on the drives to work if it's cloudy. It's been cloudy to some degree all this week, and all last week, and the week before that, and it's supposed to get worse this weekend. I felt like this last winter...and the winter before that and the winter before that. And the first winter here in TN? In my apartment? With the really cool sink? Dearest Dear Reader, there were nights where I'd sit in my apartment and just cry because ...(you can insert a shrug here). There's no reason for me to be so UGH, and I can't really think of any particular things that make me just go off. I'm just getting more and more UGH feeling. I can't describe it any better than that. It's... It feels familiar and strange. I'm still kindof standing outside myself watching myself, like I do with PMS, but then there's the leeetle voice in my head saying "It's ok. You'll be fine. Just let it out. Good. Better. Sniffle, wipe your nose. Move on." I don't get that little voice with PMS. The little voice is usually too shocked with horror at my behavior if it's PMS, usually. And I don't know what will set me off.
People kill squirrels around here with cars. There are squirrel carcasses all over this town. I've seen people swerve to hit squirrels. Me? I like squirrels. I've been known to stop for squirrels. I won't feed them-too much of a chance of kitties in the neighborhood stalking the feeding station, but I won't intentionally run them down, you know? I sobbed on my way to work this morning over a squirrel laying in the middle of the road.
I was driving to work yesterday and started crying (get this) because it was Wednesday.
I was at the AD and doing a quality improvement thing and almost freaked out. Why? I chocked it up at the time that I was just tired, but I was just tired of the quality improvement thing. Not something to throw a fit over, you know?
And then add in Christmas. All of Christmas. The whole kit-n-caboodle that is the commercialized psuedo-religious holiday it's been for the last 150 years...
(ahem)
I finished the candy-making. No baking this year-I bake cookies all the fucking time.
I gave food gifts to people.
I gave kits with the most amazing bread recipe (foolproof meaning the loaf turned out better than just edible, it was DELICIOUS-and I've long bemoaned the fact that I suck at bread making) to people. 
Sic-un and Sos-u's gifts are all wrapped and waiting.
ET gets Optimus Prime (delivered today), Conman and the Princess' gift cards were last seen in the OakRidge post office parking lot Monday morning, falling gently into the slot marked 'Mail ONLY up to 13 ounces!' because I was slow getting out the door to work.
Christmas dinner is purchased and awaiting cooking (we're having ham, sweet potatoes, potato salad, green beans, salad and rolls), which I will be doing all day Christmas.
I have added to a tattoo arrangement I have with someone, to take place just on the 2nd.
My computer got sick, I healed it. It took 3 weeks, but I healed it.
I have not gotten the Gentleman from Virginia's package out to him (Wilde) yet. My beautimous Japanese shark will be getting a recipe book as soon as I get it together (all my cookie recipes. All. She deserves). 

I've managed to stay busy. It's not that I'm not doing anything or not occupying myself or anything like that. It's not "Bored, let's get depressed!" or anything. And I'm not picking myself apart, like I have been known to in the past. I'm just... I'm sad. I want sunshine. I want laughter.

I'm in a really good time right now, but the overwhelming urge to (no, not beat the crap out of someone) just sit down and cry and moan and wail just comes upon me sometimes. And Christmas adds to it. I miss my family. I miss...
I miss the sun a real angle at noon, like overhead? Or I'll even take a shadow 10 degrees either way at noon, really! Out here, at noon? 'Cause my first break usually comes right at or about noon? It's not overhead, not by any stretch of any imaginary friend's imagination.... My shadow that I cast? I would swear it was about 3 pm in Albuquerque based on that shadow. The sun is already at a funny angle, and when you fuck with its position due to the SEASON??? Ohboy.
The sun is disappearing on what little horizon line we have here by about 4 in the afternoon. It's dark by 5:30. There is no moonshine, there's too many clouds. I missed the eclipse! MISSED! Why? Why do you think they call them the Great Smokies? No, I didn't think of that before I moved out here. I was too enamored with getting ME back to notice. So I missed the eclipse. And no, pictures aren't the same.

I want to play "Lizard" in the sunshine on a concrete bench warmed by the sun for a few hours.

It's gotta be S.A.D.

I say I'm in a really good time right now because I feel very OK. Yes, I'm scattered, but I'm usually scattered to some degree or another. Sic-un and I are good. I haven't been talking sex for awhile because my period has been fucked up. Nothing for 45 days, then 2 weeks of nothing but. It kinda kills the mood, but hey! I'm not pregnant! AD is good, I'm in learning mode right now, so it's OK and being OK. I'm putting in the effort, at least. J may be by for the holiday -Please note: Sic-un has to work, period is all but over, so I may get a chance at another bounce session with him, which would be a GREAT present for the day, but even if it's a great present, it still won't make it a BAD day if I don't get it, you know? I'm feeling very ok.
And it's not booze, it's not other intoxicants, I'm just feeling very OK right now. I'm in a good place. But then I'll weep for no fuckin' reason and it's starting to really, really get to me when added in with the Christmas blues....

I just need more vitamin D, more sunshine, maybe some light therapy.

'Tis the season, after all.

Ooh, I have a dirty, dirty heart....

Comparisons can do WONDERS for my disposition at the strangest times. First, MINE.

I have finished! NaNoWriMo. I'm not posting the story here. I've considered it at great length, actually. It is posted elsewhere under my real name, so if you can find it, you're welcome to read it that way. HOWEVER... there is a such thing as an email, guys.  If you want the doc, lemme know. I'd recommend it, and I'm not saying that 'cause I wrote it. I'm actually not thrilled with the ending, but was afraid of really letting loose and then having to edit heavily. I will probably still redo the end a bit. I am, though, talking about as a reader. I have actually gone back and read it JUST for the story. Did that this past weekend, read it again just for the reading...

It's been cold and rainy, then sunny and crisp, then dreary and raining and ...UGH. Mother Nature must still need Prozac. It's affecting my mood. The alternate dimension has been... lackluster? Yeah, good word for it. Just kinda... blah. I haven't been feeling *great* lately, you know? And my computer has caught a bug, quite a serious bug. I now have to reformat (but don't want to w/o a restore disc-ordered and supposedly on its way- and my program discs from the MotherShip). The house is still a wreck, I can't seem to muster the drive or the energy to clean it all up. I'm supposed to be starting on a piece for a girl from the AD this upcoming weekend. Nervous as hell about it, considering postponing. I don't have 2 small bits done on it, and just.
UGH, you know?
And S.o.s-u is moving in 'sometime'. Yes, yes, the 'spare room' is now going to be 'S.o.s-u's room'. He's 17, as I think I've mentioned. And a clothes horse, and a walking stomach. SO. Water bill/amount of laundry/food bill just expanded. I'm OK with it. I get it. I (mostly) understand the dynamics behind it, but I really hope nobody (and I do mean NOBODY) is looking to me to provide any kind of 'parenting'. I can word things well. I give great advice. HOWEVER, I am permissive, overly so, and the fact that he's just so cute doesn't help much, you know?

I'm a sucker for a pretty face.

Which brings me to my dirty heart and how I like to make it feel good. You see the above figure, right? NaNo's, I mean? It's 66704. Finished on the 23rd. Not to brag (oh, hell, I'm bragging, baby!), but 16704 over the 50K 'finish line'.
Ahem. Idiot is apparently in Nano this year, too. As of just a few minutes ago? It's now the last day to write. It's the 30th, it's the end of the month. Let's bask in someone else's lack of follow through, shall we?

The thing speaks for itself.

With that, g'night!

All Hallow's aftermath and November.

...or shall I say NaNoWriMo? I'm trying it again this year. Failed first attempt in 2005? 2004? Something like. I was still with Idiot and trying hard to not lose my mind. I'm all together this year, so perhaps that will make the difference.

So how did I do today? Seeing how it IS the first of Nov, and the day after Halloween and I was incredibly busy today, I'm very impressed with myself. I may still write more if I get bit again by it, but right now I'm sitting pretty at 1718 words reported, 2811 done (I reported, then had to get out a bit more), and 2 chapters kicked out. What's it about? Well, see, that's the hard part...
I don't have an outline.
Well, I don't. I started an outline. I did. I was going to introduce the world to the people that live in my head: Marge and Harvey, The Clerk, all of them. I had it outlined...
And then I remembered a dream I had a bit ago and it wasn't a pleasant dream. It was rather dark and rather scary, and unfinished...The bladder woke me up before I was done with the dream. Best analogy would be 'rape fantasy', but it's not. It was a dream, an unpleasant dream (to say the least) and no... There was no enjoyment out of it. But there is a story there. And since it saw fit to bite me hard enough to make me discard an outline and characters pre-made? I'll run with it and see where I end up.
I just hope I can be....ruthless? It'll work. Ruthless enough to write 50K on the subject.  I will be posting excerpts when I get some chunks under my belt. I will say it's rough. ROUGHrough. One of the things that got me last time was the on-the-fly editing. That's not happening with this one. I will spell-check, and I am going back through every 20 minutes or so and re-reading. Re-working bits to make them work the way they're being written in my head as opposed to how my fingers are typing it. In some cases, surprisingly enough, I'm keeping the way my fingers are typing instead of what's in my head...that doesn't usually happen.
Usually, I write as if I were reading a book. It's flowing better with this one, and going in without a plan, with only the barest hints of a plot from a 1/2 remembered dream... I really have no expectations. I'm seeing if I can do it, that's all.

KE posted recently about not writing. And not writing scares me. So. NaNoWriMo.
***
All Hallow's was... Vaguely depressing. I ended up going to 2 haunted houses... The first was at Cherokee Caverns, a cave system very close to us. Sic-un didn't want to go, Sos-u did. It was fun, got some good ideas for my non-existent haunted house and since all proceeds went to the Caverns (main/only fund raiser of the year and it's completely volunteer run), it was a good cause.
The second was Saturday night, at Sos-u's school. It was actually better than the Cavern, but I'm still going to pick it apart. Yes, it sounds cheesy and it was a good HH, but still... I wasn't scared. I was actually laughing through it. It doesn't really work if people keep asking you 'Are you scared?' as they're trying to scare you. And it didn't help that the (I think cheerleading team) was dressed as 'nurses' and were supposed to read a script as you went through. None of them could project one iota, at least as far as I could see. The script was pretty good, patter about how the high school used to be a mental institution, and it was a good setting for it. The school appears to be from the 40's or so, perhaps as early as the 20's, but I'm not sure on that. It's solid, institutional... A good setting. Good idea, OK execution, needs some work.
Sos-u was in full makeup, called Sic-un daddy-o which was cute.
I carved yesterday, made up the last of the pumpkin from 2009 into a fluffy pie. Here's the lantern....

And here's the pie....

I kinda figured out why my pumpkin pie is fluffier, especially in mouth-feel, than anything my mom has turned out. It's all in the order of ingredients. She uses the Libby recipe, I use the Libby recipe. She uses homemade puree, so do I. Slightly different spices (I add more ginger, some allspice, and more cinnamon than the recipe calls for), but spice won't affect texture this way. So I paid attention this time.
I discovered I don't like the way the recipe is put together. They want you to stir the sugar and spices together in a separate bowl, then in your big bowl, beat eggs lightly, add pumpkin and spice/sugar mix, then evap milk.
Result? Tight, dense pumpkin pie.
Sugar, although a DRY ingredient, tends to act like a liquid. It is hydroscopic, will dissolve rapidly, and although you have tiny little grains, doesn't hold shape in any discernible manner. Eggs, although a wet ingredient, are indeed a fat and an emulsifier. Evap milk? Fat. Pumpkin puree? It's wet. SO. Seeing as how the only DRY ingredients are the spices, why would you mix those and sugar together then lump everything?
I whip my eggs until they are light yellow and ribbony, then add the sugar to whip it up. Get it fluffy. Stream in the evap milk, which gets fluffy too. Then the spices so they're evenly distributed, then the pumpkin puree. Pour it out, cook it up.
Fluffy pumpkin pie is worth the change in the order.
According to my Joy of Cooking, you can even whip evap milk and sugar into something like whipped cream. So it makes sense to whip it all first to fluffy. Oh, and I added a teaspoon or so of vanilla. It counterpoints the spice and pumpkin and warms everything up in a MOST interesting manner. The vanilla is added with the pumpkin.
***
And since it is now November 2, I have to go to work in a few hours. Enjoy your day, Dear Reader!

From the Really? and the W.T.F?!?! files...

...First,

REALLY? Oh, gee whiz, what have I said all along? HFCS is NOT the same as sugar. Not. Not close, not the same. Different. Very different. And now, via Consumerist, Cancer Cells Get Fat From HFCS Too.  I highly recommending reading the blurb (which does distill it down pretty good) on Consumerist, click through for the abstract if you want. I did. It's interesting. And my feelings of vindication continue...

Now,

W.T.F?!?!
So I jumped in the sack with J, right? And I've been sleeping with Sic-un (DUH!) for over 4 years now. Well, there's been one other, too, kinda recently... Let's call him Switch. At least for now. And multitudes of others including the Artist and PB and TD in the past. All in all, I'd say I've been to bed with somewhere around 30-50 people (mainly because I don't want to sit and think actual numbers right now)..A fair number. The named ones above have all wanted, requested, thought it would be really neat if I'd slap on a strap-on and fuck them silly with it. Switch noticed how small my hands are and shivered at the thought of me fisting his ass.
I have slapped on said strap-on for Sic-un. It's not... It's not objectionable. I don't necessarily want to make it a part of my usual day-to-day sex life, but it's not objectionable, it's a bit of a power-trip and yeah, it's a turn-on to a certain degree. And Sic-un and I have made fisting a regular thing, and he's let me do him, it's not just a one-way... However... Beyond Sic-un (and J, which is kind-of neat that he'd actually feel me out on it, so to speak), I haven't discussed ass play with any of them except in the most general terms-and that's usually when they're trying to put their finger up my ass without warning.*

So, why me? What the fuck? Does something about me scream out "Let me dominate you"? 'Cause that's one hell of a domination, that strap-on. Don't think so? You're going to put yourself in THAT VULNERABLE of a position, ass first, with a strap on and someone who admittedly has some issues and you're going to say it's not a domination/submission act? What have you been smoking and can I have some?

Sic-un says it's because I'm actually open to sex in general, and a big follower of the 'If it feels good, and all parties consent, GO FOR IT!' camp. He says that around that kind of attitude, something in the male mind says "Ooooh, lemme lay this fantasy on her," and pretty much says it's a common fantasy and not personal or anything.

But... All the men I've been to bed with recently, even stretching back through Idiot, even TD, even the Artist... They've all come off as being rather butch, kind-of aggressive, they all seem like they have the ability to take control in bed**, and they are all rather decisive people when it comes to likes and dislikes and such, and they will defend their opinions vehemently. So they all come off as kinda tough, and Sic-un is scary-tough (apparently...going grocery with him is a hoot. He gets ready to wedge and the little old ladies get out of his way). But in bed?

It's almost as if they're all asking me to top them. And I don't know why.
I'm not a top. I'm not a bottom. I'm kinda lazy and I like being nurtured in bed, and in return, you'll get some fun fucking times. But the whole role-play thing? D/s? S/m? I get it, but it doesn't really do a whole lot for me except as a kick now and again. I'd rather laugh in bed, not cry. Like anal, like fisting. It's nice... It can be so very very nice... But it's not necessary.

Now, nobody involved has ever made me feel like it's a vitally important thing I get a strap-on and plunder their (collective) asses. But it's been requested. And...strenuously? And often enough that I'm saying WTF... What I'd really like to know is why, meaning not 'Why do you want it?' but moreso "Why do you want it from me?"

Anyone have any clues for me?? Please???? And you can say 'Well, ask them!" all you want, but I have tried and the 2 answers I got were basically "Well, it feels good." I know it feels good. WHY ME IN A STRAP ON? Can't I just get a rubber glove and go play? Can I grab one of the myriad dildos and go to it? Why does it have to be me in a strap-on???? WHY GO TO THE RIDICULOUS????

OK. I feel moderately better. But really. Gimme a clue. Why ME in a strapon???


**********EDIT**********
This is to satisfy a question on this this morning. Anal is NOT MY FAVORITE THING, however, I RESERVE THE RIGHT TO SAY I WANT ANAL BECAUSE IT CAN BE ENJOYABLE.
Thank you.
**********END EDIT**********

*Note on anal: It's not my favorite thing, I have to be either really in the mood for it or have some sort of numbing agent on hand, but it can be enjoyable, and I have gone to bed with some people strictly for the anal.

**I don't necessarily want to be dominated in bed, but I don't want to call all the shots. Honestly? I'd really rather lay back and let you have your way with me and you just let me enjoy the hell out of you getting your thing on, 'cause I can guarantee Darkneuro's Magic Buttons(tm) will get pressed. 

Madness!

Sometimes I feel completely mad and it's driving me crazy. Not mad angry-mad, but 'mad' sounded quite nasally, with an affected accent, you know... Off the rocker but not completely batshit crazy? A bit of an-(that's the other fucking thing! When I write, it sounds like I'm reading it in a british accent all the time. I'M NOT BRITISH--although I do one hell of an accent, but that's besides the point... W.T.F?!?!?!) a bit of an odd duck, certainly someone who may benefit from counsel, but is not herself dangerous....You know? The dotty aunt that wore turbans; the gent who becomes obsessive-compulsive about his lawn in his retirement years... that sort, not the apeshit hearing voices in the walls crazy, no not that far... I mean the madness.
I do feel this way sometimes and it really frustrates me. I start having conversations with myself that will never ever happen in real life, imagining the 'other' answer, hearing it in my head exactly as it would be in that situation from that person. And it's always with people that I can readily identify. I know these people, so it's not like I'm talking to Jim Morrison or Shakespeare or anything, and I certainly understand the Elvis look-alike is ... a look-alike. I'm not stupid about this. And no, that hesitation was not questioning that particular belief. I was going to say pretty fucking hilarious. But I'm not stupid about it. I know it's in my head.
I just... I understand I'm not crazy (batshit). I understand what I am hearing in my head is not real. I understand that the conversations taking place will never take place because it just won't come up, either the subject or the subject with that person-- I mean, why would I be having a pretty damn lively conversation about what tequila was the best for amaretto 'ritas with X person I know because they come up and talk to me at work?

Oh. Sorry. Did that last sound a bit...peevish? I'll explain:
There are several people at work within my 'realm of understanding' with whom I have conversations with, who would consider me to be their friend, who see no problem in coming up and hugging me or touching my hair or playing with my ear that I really do have conversations with... I only talk to them because they talk to me. I don't... I don't care, really. I don't work in the same campaign as they do, I may have said something when asked for a response at one time, but I really don't remember--I mean something as simple as 'What time is it?' or 'Can I borrow a light?'--They seem to think I'm one of their closest friends because I happened to be kind to them at one time. I will NEVER have this strange little conversation with this person type conversations are going on in my head and it's driving me crazy!

I don't want that to sound mean. I'm not, generally speaking, a mean person. People get tedious, though, especially if I don't consider them to be a friend, if not a friend-friend (J, Mako, J(2), Squishy, L&D). I mean that I don't care, particularly, that that one girl? In that campaign? What'sherface? (shows how well I know her!) Yeah... She's getting married. Not only that, but I can tell you the name of her fiance and all the BS she's put herself through to get married. My opinion says most of it is due to her own assumptions and ignorance, but (insert shrug here)... She comes up, I'm nice, she talks to me. Not with me... Mako? We talk. This girl? Who really wanted me to go to her family&close family friends invited-only wedding? She talks to me.

I suppose it's part and parcel of being such an introvert for so very long. I'm afraid, somehow, of alternately saying the wrong thing or saying something so unbearably witty I'll have to make a repeat appearance or something. I usually feel very gauche, but cover it well, I guess. The voices in my head are there though. And I do make up characters in my head.... They come in sometimes. That's fun. And they all have malleable histories...

Hm. That's a thought.


I will let the idea percolate for a bit...perhaps a smidge. Maybe I'll take some of those characters and some of those conversations and write out the various movies in my head... What do I see, what do I hear, that sort.... Maybe get a readable story or two. Hm.

tales from the fourth....

Hi! How are all of you?
I'm good, for the most part. An eventful 4th weekend, then I spent Tuesday locked into migraine hellishness while at work (but I stuck it through!), got home to where I could take care of the 1/2 of my head that was not well and thought all was well...
Until Thursday.
Ever feel your head explode? I had been 1/2 expecting a return of the migraine, just because Tuesday, although long and drawn-out and annoying as fuck, really hadn't been a bad migraine. Thursday was bad. I was showering. SHOWERING... And then my head exploded. Sparkles, halos, sound...I almost threw up, was able to get to the water to turn it to ice fast enough so I didn't.... Not good.
Then this morning my digestion decided to attack.
Again...not good.
So now I'm back on write-ups at work upon my return on Monday, but I seem to have survived. Still a little wonky on the stomach, and I'm really happy we have some phenergan in the house.
So that was this past week... On to the 4th weekend, shall we?
***
Sos-u had been here since... Wednesday? Yeah, Wednesday. Cool 'nuff. He mowed the lawn, did dishes (he did dishes!!!!) and was actually really genial. I enjoyed having him around to blather to (I always have a tendency to talk to myself...another person there means I have someone to talk with instead of in my own head). Dos-u, charming girl, quite a knockout, smart, etc etc etc (hey, they're both GORGEOUS kids... Sic-un's genes passed on well!) decided she wanted a tattoo. I had kinda planned on doing that on the 4th, and then having her and Sos-u for dinner (turkey in flat bread on the grill) and invited up J for some barbecue/social-life, but due to protestations on his part, didn't really expect him.
Dos-u happened Saturday, turned out well, purely in my opinion, of course. Of course, I am still freaking out about it a bit...I tattooed my painted-man's daughter!!!!, but it's all well and good and I wasn't nearly as nervous as I thought I would be. It's been awhile since I've picked up a machine.
It's also been awhile since I had my skin completely and utterly sensitized by someone. That happened Friday? No... Saturday night. And well into Sunday morning. The whole sharing me about thing has Sic-un quite randy and performing WELL ABOVE any expectations I ever had of him sexually.
What does this sensitizing mean, you may be wondering...
...
It means that every inch of my skin was so sensitive to touch that I was having small orgasms on an almost continual basis for about 24 hours or so. While my brain is still laughing with absolute glee, my abdominal muscles hated me for quite some time.
What did this mean for the 4th? Please note: everything that happened to me was with my full consent and my full acknowledgment. I was quite aware of what was going on, and enjoyed it quite a bit.
It means that Sic-un and Sos-u saw fit to torment me at every opportunity all day Sunday. Yes, Sos-u. Still underage, but will be absolutely no contest when I see fit to take him to bed. I am firm in that belief. So there I was getting dinner together, happily cumming at every turn...
J showed up.
Oh boy.
I'm the walking orgasmatron and you're gonna dangle that in front o'me? Oh! My! Stars!
One thing and another, some great food, great company, J was let in on the 'Oh, gee, look what Darkneuro does when you touch her!' and took great advantage.
He was petting my hair (well, finger-combing it while I leaned up against him) and basically told me that yes, indeed, I am once again right... His morals won't really let him fall into bed with me without some intoxication taking place.
Specifically, "I know you're open territory, but you're claimed territory. But I can be talked into you very easily, I just have to release some inhibitions, you know?"
Not hard to intoxicate the poor boy (he's 27). Really, it's not.
The question becomes "Do I want to go to that length to get a bit of strange?"
Another potential...
Not a road-block, but something to take into consideration:

Sos-u is well aware that his birthday is to be a rather monumentous occasion, seeing as how he will then be 18. He knows I want his pretty little ass in bed, he knows I have his father's full support. He's in full agreement with the whole scheme and is rather looking forward to it, right? That was made abundantly clear.
He got kinda tight-lipped when I concentrated on J Sunday. And I noticed it also when I concentrated on Sic-un, at least to a small degree. I don't think he's aware that he's doing it, he is kinda obtuse (part of my warping plan is to turn the kid into a free-thinker), and he's ... I don't think he's as self-aware as I was at that age, if that makes any sense. Just like I don't think he was aware he was checking out Mako when she met him (it was cute! He would look at the tv, look at Mako. Tv, tv, tv, Mako, Tv, tv, tv, Mako, Mako, Tv), completely unaware of what he's doing when he's doing it.
Sic-un and I discussed this...Mako and I discussed this as well (as well as giving me some INCREDIBLE advice...it really does help to get another input into my Machiavellian schemes), and basically with the whole 'teach him to be a free-thinker' I'm planning on, he's going to see that I am not some kind of bone to be fought over, I am my own person.

I am not 'Sic-un's'. I am 'Darkneuro's', and I allow myself to enjoy and to be enjoyed by other people, especially Sic-un. If I allow myself J, then I will do so, just as I have decided to allow myself Sos-u in January...If all parties are in agreement, then there is no question. I don't 'belong' to anyone except myself. This has been a hard-won battle. I don't want him to be jealous. I want him to enjoy the feast, does that make sense? Of course, it goes without saying that those who read or have read Heinlein will know exactly what I'm talking about. That sort of Utopia, you know?

It was also very very cute when Sos-u mentioned he had been a pudgy baby and Sic-un leapt from the couch to grab his photo album while saying "Oh yes he was!" in the gooiest, juiciest "Wook at de widdle bayyybeeeee!" voice you could ever imagine. I laughed... here's this 6' tall heavily tattooed, shaved headed, bearded classic 'biker' leaping over the back of the couch to get a photo album to show off pictures of his 'widdle bayyybeee!' who's actually 6'2" and quite athletic... I had to laugh, you see...It was so incongruous, so unexpected, just that tone of voice and the energy to show off baby pictures...

A good time was had by all, and I don't want to be that sensitive for quite some time (January, say? Yes, insert an evil grin right here, lads and ladies), but I gotta decide if I want to get J in bed bad enough to work for it (and it would be work, to a certain degree. Scheduling issues), and I have to decide how exactly to approach the great Warping of Sos-u. He's 17. He has... He's smart, but the friends he has surrounded himself with don't appear to be, so he gets lost in the faddishness of being 17. And stuck in the boondocks... That's a bit of a problem, as is his.... reticence? yeah, his reticence to read is a factor too... It will be hard work.
Still...I'm up to the challenge.
How was your 4th?

Bad form!

Remember, kids: If you're going to go on a 'booty call', call first.

Sic-un's Ex#2 showed up tonight.
Oh yeah.
Showed up. Pulled up to the front of the house at 11:30 at night and officiously waved Sic-un over to her truck.
He asked if he could take her to the spare room.
Whatever. Whatever. Sic-un and I have talked about this. We wouldn't do this to each other, invite a fuck over for fucking while the other is there without a discussion or agreement first. We've talked this out.
Unfortunately, neither one of us even thought about the fuck taking it upon themselves to be so ill-mannered as to come over to the house in the middle of the night to say "OOoh, I'm horny!"
I said whatever.
Once, I'll say "Whatever."
But after this once?
If she shows up again without calling first, without arranging it first, she's getting a golf club up the side of her head if she steps one foot into this house that I pay money for each month.
Sic-un and I, we're OK. We are. I'm not angry he... I'm not angry another woman had him in bed. I'm not. I can't be. I CAN NOT BE PISSED ABOUT HIM GOING TO BED WITH SOMEONE ELSE.
A little strange never hurt anyone. Ever. I'm OK with him going to bed with someone else.

This is what pisses me off about this...
I have never NEVER NEVER NEVER NEVER gone out to get laid from a fuck buddy without calling first.
And if some fuck had waved me over to their vehicle to tell me they're horny? Oh, honey... You treat me like a whore you're gonna get treated like a john. And it's cash up front, thanks much.
She comes off... Her family has been in the area forever. Old area name. As in "They have street names named after her family". There's a certain cachet that comes with being an old name in the area around here. And the old saw about "Southern manners" is true, really. People say please and thank you and hold open doors for you and all that bit...
Apparently, nobody has ever said "CALL FIRST".
Which leads to this stalkerish behavior. Yes, I said stalkerish. I asked Sic-un (after I had gone to the store to get out of this house while they did whatever...if I had seen her, I would have punched her, just for the bad manners-anyway, she left apparently in tears) what would have happened if we didn't just happen to be outside when she drove by... He said she probably would have parked and waited until he came outside to smoke.
Stalkerish.
She has his number. Both of them (house phone and cell). She has his email. SHE KNOWS I HAVE GIVEN MY OK TO THEM FUCKING EACH OTHER.
No reason to not call. No reason to not email.
None.
Stalkerish.
And bad manners!

I've had bed buddies. I've had fuck buddies. I've had meet-ups just for sex. YOU CALL FIRST.

I don't mind him going to bed with someone else. I did manage to point out that J is rather good-looking, and the other is really pretty too, and ...well, Ex-wife#2 isn't. That made it just funny. If he had a good-looking chick, I may have asked to join in. But that? Ew. Eww. Bleh.

And the manners. Just...

Now I have the image of Hoffman dressed as Captain Hook saying "Bad form! Bad form!" in my head. Truly bad manners to not call first.

Full Moon...

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

Soapboxin'

There's an essay in today's Wall Street Journal that really tries to encourage having children. Funny thing is that it's almost apologetic about it. It pretty much says "Yes, this study shows that you're not as happy with children as you are without, but the number is really really small!" and then it tries to explain why everyone out there should have children.

This sort of thing really pisses me off. Look, if YOU have children, YOU have fun with that. Go right ahead. I know you do. I know you adore your children and there's the old saw that the world's best child does exist...every mother has it (insert rimshot here) and all that, but really? You know, some people out there (me) have decided to NOT have kids (me!) for whatever reasons, but it's their (mine!) choice. And no amount of argument from someone in love with the idea or reality of having kids can change my mind. And quite frankly, if the best you can come up with is "Well, you'll be only slightly less happy with kids than without!"....Ain't no argument, sorry.

Everyone always brings up population sustainability, that it takes (supposedly) 2.1 kids to replace each of us. Um, no. Your math is wrong. REPLACEMENT=1:1. Not 1:2.1. And aren't we overpopulated? Haven't they pretty much determined that with our current levels of usage, we're in severe danger of eating ourselves out of house and home? We're using our spaceship most strenuously and you want me to have children? You espouse children as some kind of miracle of happiness even when they actually did a study that proved you're happier without kids?

Someone isn't thinking clearly. Of course, I do take the stance that everyone is entitled to their own opinion. However, this isn't just 'This is my opinion." This is genuine encouragement to have kids. WHY? We're shitting in our own backyards, people! We're running out of food in that distribution resources are so disparate there is no guarantee you'll have food. How many 'people starving in [insert country here]' articles, pictures and exhortations do we need to see that we are killing our own kind? But this isn't a bullet in the head, people. This is the slow death. Millennia, even.

I don't have children. I don't want children. Even as a child, when all little girls are planning their weddings and what castle they're going to live in and 'this is my baby' doll play... All my dolls? They were dolls. Intellectually and emotionally, they were dolls. Just dolls. I knew I didn't want children. Not for not liking other kids. Hell, I was one! But I never had the emotional connection to being 'a child'. As a result, I tend to treat children as if they were older than they are.

So I talk to kids as if they were intelligent, short adults. Strike one. Strike two becomes "I am afraid of the medical legacy I would leave my children." Genetic misfires here, people. Circulatory, cancer histories...hell, The women in my family have severe problems with their thyroids. Pretty much all of them. I'm not healthy stock. And circulatory is everything from the hypertension on my mom's side to the heart disease on dad's. I'm waiting for my own ticking time-bombs to go off and this writer for the WSJ wants me to pass them on to other people? What did these hypothetical future-people ever do to me???

I have a couple of balls and a strike left, to continue the baseball metaphor. Ball One is "I'm incredibly selfish." I don't want to spend what little money I have on a kid, pure and simple. I don't want to say "Um, no, can't do anything today/tonight, I have a child." Kids cost money, I have limited money, and although my whole attitude has been "More would be nice, but I have enough. I have enough for a bus ticket anywhere," kids would throw a wrench into my whole carefully constructed free lifestyle. Yes, free. I can pick up at any time and go anywhere, within the limitations I have in place (work, money). Do I have enough to take care of ME? And the answer is 'Yes'.

Ball Two: Silly as it sounds, I have a weak stomach. Little Sis left the ConMan with me as an infant. He was in need of a diaper change. I puked 6 times in the 30 minutes it took me to change his dirty diaper. Spit up? Oh no, ain' gonna go there. Don't wanna see. Move along. And really: I know what morning sickness feels like. I've had it. Previous experience. Nono... When you get pregnant, you gain weight, right? I gained 30 pounds the first month I was on the pill. Here's the irony: I actually lost 13 pounds the first month I was pregnant, then another 18 the 2nd month. I didn't eat. I couldn't. I could eat crackers and sip ice cold water. That's it. Death by starvation is not my favorite imagined way to die (fucked to death! That's the way to go! Gently, slowly fucked to death at the age of 100!). So I'd risk death having a kid*. Um, no. Can't make me.

Strike Three: The one that loses this oh-so-handy baseball metaphor is, of course, my greatest fear with children of any stripe... "I'm afraid I would kill them somehow." I say somehow because there's an awful lot of accidental killings. The person that forgets the baby carrier on the top of the car and drives off? Yeah. I can see myself doing that. But I can also see myself getting angry enough at a child to hurt it, physically. And nobody ever deserves that, so.

No kids for me, thanks much. But thanks for sharing. Thanks for espousing straining our already taxed resources to their breaking point to 'replicate'... I still say Population Decline isn't such a bad thing. We've got computer models... What's the point of no return? Estimates of the bottleneck due to the Toba Event were down around 10-15,000. Our current? The World Bank thinks in 2008 it was 6,697,254,041. And we're growing. Although some areas have approached negative growth, others have not. And the Gasoline Age has changed some of the ones from negative to positive.

Now... I'm selfish, I have a really bad tendency to talk to children like they're adults, I'll pass on a whole host of medical issues to said child (or children...twins run in my family), and it is possible, even probable to some extent that I will seriously damage that child.
Yeah. I want a dozen. You wanna pay for them?


(putting away soapbox)

*I came back from college, fell in bed with someone, the condom had a pinhole in it. I knew I was pregnant that night (no, really!) but ended up denying it to myself until I was 9 weeks pregnant for the first doctor visit and then thanks to Reaganomics, I couldn't get an abortion through Dad's insurance, which threw me dangerously close to the 2nd trimester "we'll have to involve hospital and you'll have to pay for it all" stage.
I couldn't be pregnant. I was the golden child. It just wasn't happening. My period would show up. I went through 30 pregnancy tests.
I was ill. Physically ill, from the moment I woke up until I went to sleep (thank you, brandy. couldn't have slept without you!). I hurt constantly, every inch of my body. My hair hurt. I would accidentally touch one part of my body with something and it would hurt. I had to move and function and appear as if everything were fine and it wasn't. I was in constant pain, constant nausea. I couldn't eat ANYTHING. Milk would be the worst thing. Crackers and ice water (like, 2-3 crackers a day and ice water sipped). I was in severe denial, and ended up counting days maniacally. End of the 8th week, when my period was supposed to have been and gone... I tell my parents, I'm in no shape financially, emotionally or physically to have this child. An appointment was made.
Five years later, my boyfriend at the time decided to take dis-advantage when I was out of my head. My motto had been 'No glove, no love', and it chafed him. TaDAAAA. Really bad to wake up from a pass-out kick ass trip to go 'Oh fuck. I've felt that before. OH.FUCK' and just know with every fiber of your being sperm met egg. I went to the doctor after 2 weeks of feeling like utter shit (hair hurting? Check. Hurts to cut your fingernails....Yep. You're PREGNANT!!!!).

One last post-script... This is rather apropos coming out today. My period was late. I'm on day 45 out of an 21 day cycle. I've taken 2 pregnancy tests, knowing full and completely well that they were negative. I don't mind wasting the $6.99... For the first pregnancy? The 30 test? Yeah. 17.99 per test. You do the math. That's how far skinflint/cheapskate me was in denial. So I was being proactive. We (Sic-un and I) aren't... We don't use anything, but the only time he comes in me is within the first week after my period stops, assuming it goes 4-6 days. Otherwise, it's Splattertown, and I'm good with that. I don't feel in any danger from the supposed hit or miss of the 'rhythm' method. I feel myself ovulate, I know when that happens (and I'm never wrong. I've also ovulated and not had periods, which is what kind of happened this last time). This last time? May (checking calendar) 22? Spotted, for maybe an hour. I don't count that, not really, but it was on time and I had ovulated. This time? Last Monday was ovulation. Caused a low-level migraine but I'm not missing work for it. Today? TaDAAAAAA! Not pregnant. You can figure it out. I've already spent way too much time being Ms. TMI.
And then this article.
Really? You want me to have kids? Sure now?

Things skittering...

...across my consciousness... These are images my camera has recently taken.

Let's start with the obvious., shall we?



I love the man attached to the ass, and I love this ass (especially in 501's)


Let's not mention the chaps framing that loverly ass













Next up are 2 images that just flabbergasted me in May. The first is from Discovery....

(ahem) If they're pursuing, wouldn't that mean they were running? If they're running, how can they be viscous?






And the next is from one of the public broadcasting affiliates in the area. I suppose I should feel lucky...we not only get the PBS from Knoxville, but we get a channel called create! that's run by one of the public tv conglomerates and our friends at WGBH (c'mon...I watched ZOOM!) and then there's another PBS we get (it's 202, 203 and 204 on our Cablemonster)...This is from create!

It irks me. I grew up on PBS. This is just a very icky bit of text, isn't it?


And finally, my favorite out of the bunch...

We've had fog. And now?

Hrm.

Got schnockered last night. M came up, haven't seen him in a bit. And S.o.s-u was here. Interesting times. M brought scoobies (rum&coke) and Bushmill's. We ordered pizza and just sat getting drunk and horny. After M left, Sic-un and I took full advantage of the cleaned-out closet and the swing-set.
If S.o.s-u hadn't been here, M would have tricked me out on the swing-set. He as much admitted being ready to overthrow any moralistic objections there would be on his part, but for the presence of S.o.s-u.

Next Sunday may be 'Let's go to the drive-in' with M and perhaps getting tricked out on the swing-set.
Sic-un wants to have sloppy seconds and I'm game too. I have no moralistic objections to M.
This is important.
I have 5 people right off hand other than M that I could probably get into bed very, very easy.
One has a girlfriend, one is waiting to see if his ex-wife is soon to be baby-momma, one is under-age and the other 2... Um. I personally would rather not, but probably could, for what that's worth.
A little strange never hurt anybody, as long as all parties are fully cognizant of what's going on, and I'm not talking about putting on the rubber gloves, although that may not hurt for at least a few fantasies.
So what's to stop it? It, of course, being my part in all this, with all things taken into consideration.

Ick factor for the under-age... On his part. And nothing too strenuous, just the whole idea of me being who I am and my position in his world. Me? Um. Hm. He's real pretty to look at, lemme put it that way. I still envision him telling 'an adult' that something went on, though. Perhaps as a birthday present? For him?

The one with a girlfriend...She's more serious about it than he is. They're living together but only because the girlfriend lost her job and has a kid from a previous relationship and had nowhere else to go (according to the potential target). To him, as soon as she's got a job and is on her feet, away she goes. I don't think she sees it that way, though, and appears to be in no hurry to find said job.
Baby-daddies can be hard to find here in the buckle of the Bible Belt, and she comes pre-loaded with kid feature. He doesn't particularly want to be baby-daddy, according to him. But it does make for a bit of a sticky wicket. Although he is tall (very tall) and whip-thin but very, very muscular at the same time. Hairy back, though. I'm hesitant due to the girlfriend. I don't want to get in the middle of that.

As for the one waiting to see if he will be baby-daddy... He's cute. He's over-age. He's lost what bit of pudge he had due to ex-wife. He's...interested, if I can read the vibe right. I think there may be a bit of the moralistic thing going on with him. I, after all, somehow belong to Sic-un. Perhaps...hm.
My Japanese shark knows him. Shall I ping her for a 'Whaddya think?'

What do you think, oh Great Blogosphere? For what it's worth, I mean. Keep in mind nobody above mentioned should be very hard to get into bed at all. And it wouldn't be a case of Sic-un watching...he's already made mention of the fact that he wouldn't participate in the outside activities, he would just... well... He would just clean up after the fact, so to speak.
Heh. I'd post pictures of them, but that would be tacky to the extreme, methinks.
So. Out of 6, interested in 4 of them.
M would be easy.
The under-age a little more work and there's still the '6 months until he's no longer under-age'.
Girlfriend for the taller of them.
One is waiting for baby judgment.
Looks-wise, the under-ager is the prettiest. Then kindof a tie for the tallest and the waiting for baby one. They both have their really good points, but they both have bad points (tallest=hairy back, baby-daddy=kinda wishy-washy). Then M, but to be fair, M is the oldest of the 4, he is losing his hair (premature male pattern baldness is NOT a nice thing to pass on to your children), and he has a tech support job (therefore the spare tech-tire).
To rate for ease of predation (for lack of a better term), from easiest to hardest, I'm thinking M, baby-waiter, the under-age, then girlfriend-heavy.
Opinions gathered here. Gimme direction, people.
And order in with Superior, working on finishing the fan next weekend (Friday through Monday off work).

Today has been a good day.
It was Jellybean's first birthday, and our friends from work invited us to the party.
It always surprises me to find out people I work with actually like me and actually want to socialize with us. We were invited...well, commanded (every new mother's prerogative) to view-coo at the hospital. He was a Jellybean then, and he's one now, both in age and Jellybean status.
So the party was at the local park, and Sic-un was feeling good enough to go... We took the bike to the park.
***
Wife#2 is at the park.
!?!
I'm cute, she looks tired. Her butt is kinda lumpy? Mine has a better shape. Legs...Mine are better. Hips, same-meaning better. Posture? Oh, baby, let me tell you... I won't go into size, there really is no way to 'compare' size because I'm 5'4 or thereabouts and she's something like 5'8 or 9. But I hold myself better. I have no sympathy. Sic-un says she's had it hard since they split.
It's been awhile. Shouldn't she be kinda over it since she initiated things? No sympathy, see? Get OVER it, you know? Quit using it as an excuse. Excuses bore me. Take enjoyment with what you have now, 'cause it may be gone tomorrow. If there was a fire, what would you grab?
My wallet, phone and some clothes.
Really. Purse and clothes.
We're very careful of fire.
Tangent, sorry.
Anyway, she was at the park for a small girl's birthday. Go 'way, so she did.
Jellybean was cute, his parents are sweet. It was a little awkward. We're 'friends from work' and it's really an occasion for family and really close friends, but we were invited. !?!
Again, it always surprises me when people I work with want to socialize with me.
I don't consider myself to be a very interesting person, never have thought that way. It's only been recently that I've started engaging in some conversations, really, and even then, the best way to get along with other people is let them talk about themselves and their children and their lives...
Now we're home and Sic-un is napping because he HAS been sick, really sick, for 3 weeks and now he's feeling a bit better (dr put him on avelox. They use that for anthrax, f'rchris'sake!). But he's tired, hasn't been sleeping well.
There is a bit of pork loin in the slow cooker (brined it overnight, popped it in with onion and water and some spices, it's been going about 6 hours) and we're gonna have pulled pork bbq later.
Nap sounds like a really good idea. Yeah...naptime.

...I have been SOOOO busy....

Really.
I took my state licensing exam, training then for the new campaign, since then work-work-work, and throw in a weekend or 2 or 3 filled with cleaning and laundry and general laziness, what-not and
TaDAAAAH!
You missed me, admit it, all...3? of you? Maybe? still reading.
I dunno...I haven't felt the urge to write recently, which kinda pisses me off. Honestly, I haven't much felt like doing anything lately, pretty much due to work and cleaning and laziness. Go figure.
I cleaned the kitchen, but I started it because ants had invaded. That means "clean 'cause you're missing something, then spray, then keep clean until apathy sets in again".
It's been a week, and apathy hasn't set in. It looks bigger. I like it. I'm contemplating washing the windows, even.
I will attempt to tackle the living room next. Hell, there's still boxes from Xmas under the table. They're empty, they're relatively stacked, but there they sit. I am talking about my fabulous circa-1954 formica with aluminum frame dining table set. Strangely enough, the 'set' came with 3 center leaves (4ft x 3ft w/o, each leaf is 1ft) and only 4 chairs. But still, it's enough for us.
We filled out our census. Strangely enough, we never received the form in the mail. We got the nag postcard that says there is still time left, but we didn't get the actual census. So we called. Or rather, Sic-un called. If you haven't received your form, go to census.gov and click on FAQs at the top. Big pink box at the top. Yeah. You can call it in, so he did. Made the census taker giggle. I love that man.
Speaking of....
Poor man has been physically sick since the beginning of the week. Dr said stomach virus, then gave him a prescription for antibiotics and phenergren. He's back to work tomorrow, feels mostly better, still a little nausea.
I'm fit as a fiddle. A bit of a headache tonight, but other than, no worries.
I'm actually anxiously begging the rain gods to take it easy on Saturday. I'm planning on a bit of punishment for S.o.s-u... Idiot child decided to tell his mother he was staying here for the weekend plus (through Tuesday) last visitation, but actually only stayed through Sunday early-afternoon before driving off. Guess who called up looking for him later that night? Yeah, mama.
The moral of this story is "You don't throw your father under the bus."
That's simple, right? So this weekend, if the child is here, and if the rain gods are appeased by my promises of thirsty plants and seeds, I'm gonna get flowerbeds cleaned out and planted. Picture a happy dance here.
Sic-un says it's not punishment, he's going to make it so it's now normal for yard-work because it is late spring. No more vid games and random teevee throughout the 1 1/2 to 2 days he's typically here. He will sit and do nothing but exercise his texting muscles if you let him, so...
I don't think he's going to be very happy.
And if it's raining.... well, SoSu is going to be helping me with the housework. He can sort stuff that's stacked on the tables. He can run the vacuum (although I dig that vacuum still and kinda enjoy using it). Hell, I'll drag him to the store with me and make him fetch/carry. reminder: yogurt. you want yogurt. put it on the list.

Work. Ahem. I am actually enjoying my job for the first time in years. I haven't been called a cunt, bitch, whore, fucker, asshole, bitch, or cocksucker in weeks. I mean, of course, by the anonymous caller on the end of the telephone line.
Call me crazy, but I have never called up a business with an issue or a comment or a service that needed to be done and cussed out the person on the other end of the line. Ever. EVER. I've made comments after I've ended the call if they seemed especially incompetent, sure, but I have NEVER called an anonymous service worker names because I didn't get my way. EVER.
And now? Now... Now it's sunny and 72 in the Temple (christened so by some of my coworkers. I shall use it shamelessly). I'm interested, I'm learning, I'm enjoying it. No cussing.
It's completely alien to me. And this is after...20 years experience with telephone customer service positions. I finally get to a campaign where the customer doesn't treat me like dirt. I'm thrilled, frankly, and getting a little weirded out by my gushing.


OH!
An old friend dug this out...
Mid school (ahem). Scanned from the yearbook. This would have been... 6th grade? Yeah, 6th. Gotta love the humongous and heavy glass-glasses. Yes. I was blind as a bat.


I've got to get my real house in order so I can get my House in order. While I'm getting the House in order, I'm going to be working on Studio. I've asked for some days off in May, so I will have some freetime. I won't say what I'll be doing, but it will be either house, House or Studio. And making $40 more a week due to the new raise is nice. Doesn't appear to have kicked me to the next tax bracket, but time will tell. This weekend is a free paycheck.
Look.
Aren't
They
Exquisite?

And it is a bit of that so I leave you to go to bed (aw, c'mon. You see it, you know you do.)

What have YOU been up to?

GRRR

To the fucking commercial on the fucking TV because this is the 4th time I've seen it so far today: The headboard/footboard/dresser/nightstand combo you currently have on sale is NOT a 'Bedroom Suit'. It's a BEDROOM SUITE, pronounced SWEET, you fucking fucktard!
A 'bedroom suit' is something you'd see Hef wear. PJs and a smoking jacket. Bedroom Suit. However, a 'bedroom suite' is the lot of furniture you're attempting to get people to buy.
Suite=number of things forming a series or a set
Suit=a set of clothing, armor, or the like, intended for wear together.
So yes... The 3 piece lingerie set? It's a suit. The 3 piece living room combo? It's a SUITE.
Fucktards.

Lordy, lordy, look who's...

...(all together now!) forty!
Ahem.
Or soon to be. Tomorrow, in fact. I won't jump the gun or anything, but I'm almost positive I won't feel any older tomorrow than I did this morning. Which leads me in a roundabout way to when I first had that thought, 1978, my first tentative steps into the idea that time just might be fluid. I didn't feel any older on that chilly morning than I did before going to bed, indeed going back even further, I couldn't remember ever feeling different on my birthday. So I settled.

I'm eight. But time, although fluid, generally flows in one direction and the ravages aren't so easy to get rid of.

I share my birthday, or shared, with my great-grandmother. She would be 110 tomorrow. She was 65 when I was born. Her name was Helen. I almost share my birthday with one of my cousins. One of my kissing cousins, in fact, not that I've ever kissed her. It simply means her mom is my mom's sister and her dad was my dad's brother. We share enough of the same genes that a DNA sample would say we're sisters. She is 2 years older, and could be called Myrtle-the-Fertile-Turtle, but that may be cruel. She has...4? 5? Something like that. Enough for both of us, is what I say.

I've settled in my skin.

Someone asked me the other week why I didn't have children because they were such a joy. I told her she just got done telling me they decided to rip apart all the drawers in the house and she was waiting to mete out punishment. Why would I bother? Let them be your joy, I'm happy with none.
And I am. I'm being selfish, yes, and a drain on the resources of this country, not even daring to replicate myself to take my place in society when I retire or die, whichever comes first. The world is bearing me now. What happens when I die is whatever happens. I won't care. I'll be dead. And no use wanting me to feel guilt or shame or fear at the imminent demise of Yours Truly. Can't do it. Life is fatal. Everyone dies. Besides. Look at China. See what's happening there? They were so intent on 'A boy to carry on the family honor' or name or some such nonsense and killed quite a few of their girls.....There aren't enough women now. So much for replicating themselves. I kind of welcome it. I look at my car and my clothes and my house and I get food at the grocery store and-and-and... It is a strange kind of guilt for the rock we happen to be hurtling through space on. The bees are dying. Did nobody think to ask if they liked the flavor of the genetically modified produce? Bats are now getting white-nose, a fungus that wakes them from their hibernation to starve because it is still winter. I'm sure something humans have done is causing this. Perhaps the proliferation of molds and super-molds that we are unleashing upon the world. Don't tell me about 'carrying on the genes'. Don't buy it. Don't drink that particular koolaid, OK?

I have settled into being human.

We're having steak for dinner, with mashed potatoes and green salad. Tomorrow's dinner is up in the air. I have no idea if I want to cook or eat out or just get burgers or take out and just eat here or what. The birthday cake is not, it's actually going to be a batch of Lemon Bars (it's a box. I'm making a box mix of Lemon Bars because I'm being lazy on my birthday. I can highly recommend the Krusteaz mixes.). No candles. Meh. I'll light some incense.

I have settled into being selfish enough to be lazy on my birthday.

I washed dishes last night, I'll do them again before cooking dinner. It tends to keep them down to a manageable level. I don't like standing for hours at the sink. Steaks in the Lodge (TM) grill pan, potatoes from a box (hey, I watched how they're made on How It's Made, they're safe), salad to cut/tear into bowls. Laundry is in, whites still left to do and Sic-un just got home from work.

I'm 40. My hair is greying, I'm starting to ache in the cold. I don't particularly like what I do for a living and would really like to win the lottery. I have a man who loves me and I'm doing OK. This is pretty OK.