i got several emails to what a quasi-fivesome meant, so basically here is the story:
several months ago, we had a party/bbq at our house. as the night wore on, i ended up kissing several women, several men. justin was there and he kissed a girl or two, and we were all drunk, so it was basically in all good fun.
the fivesome (me, justin, one other guy and two girls) proceed to cathleen’s room, from where we move into my bedroom. justin and i started fucking on the floor, the other three started fucking on the bed. one of the girls came to where we were at, and i started messing with her (while still fucking justin). after that, i climbed off of justin, hopped on the bed. i started making out with the other girl while be fingered by the other boy. and then justin got uncomfortable, so we left.
and that was it.
men in black
last night (10.28.98), justin and i get home from work. it’s roughly about our usual time. i pull up and park in the driveway, wade through the dogs, turn all the lights on. For the first time in ages, i go and pick up our newspaper from our front sidewalk. as i walk back up the steps, i keep hearing “lisa. lisa. lisa!” i stop and go ‘yeah?’ and then i hear “lisa rabey?” i kinda freak out, and walk back slowly into the house and lock the door. justin was in the bathroom, and i wait till he’s done doing what he’s doing, i tell him what is going on. he walks back the sun room and opens the front door to go outside.
the truck that the person was sitting in, was no longer there. as i look up the street, i see that he’s made a left onto an adjacent street. i continue looking and he just turns around and drives back down my street, albeit slowly. i jump up and down and point out to justin that it’s him. we watch the truck drive slowly down the street, and i start getting freaked out all over again.
I started thinking about it over and over in my head, wondering what had happened? Did I mistakenly think that someone said my name? no, my name is fairly unique, and you can’t really fuck up saying it. cathleen thought it may have be da’ chronicles, but honestly, there is nothing here that really tells me about where or what i am. sure you may think you know me, but, other than my pager number (big woop) and notating where i live (bay area California), there is no way you are going to figure out who i am. and considering i’m not as stupid to leave my home address on the web, i don’t know how this person could have found me.
there is no utilities in my name. the phone lines belong to my roommates. my car payment and everything else get sent to a different address. the car i drive is under someone else’s name (i got a co-signer). and there is no way, even with all the information available -here- on the web, that you could figure out what i really look like anyway. especially in the dark.
we are bringing the dogs in at night now. i feel much safer that way.
tomorrow, i’m calling the police. i had spoken to cathleen and christine about it as well, and we’ve decided to be ultra careful about this.
dead letter office
lately, i’ve been getting a rush of fan letters. as stated previously, i’ve gotten fan mail over the years, but now that my site is growing in readership, that will logically induce more mail.
in the beginning, i used to answer all the fan mail that i received coming in. i was always generously touched by what people thought of my website. i always took the criticism well (i thought) and just wanted to be personable enough to respond back to the people who took the time to email me in the first place.
but the trend i’m noticing, is that when i respond to a person’s email, they don’t always write me back. i’ve pounded my head sometimes thinking of what i’ve done that could have made them upset or not want to email me back, but i’ve come across several reasons why:

  • it’s pretty obvious that keeping an on-line journal means (at least to me) that i’m opening up myself much more to the world, and that while someone may know all about me, i will obviously not know all about them. this could be just disturbing (i would think).
  • they just don’t care. i don’t know, i could be pretty pompous and liken myself to a celeb, but in a sense it’s true. as long as they are watching from the sidelines, personal dope (meaning email) from me isn’t all that fantastic. it’s like if i got a letter from michael stipe or something, i would probably be in shock and not know how to answer it.

maybe those excuses sounded lame, and i definitely don’t want to come off being snotty. it’s just that, i really think it’s great people like what i do, so, i think considering the above with this probably being the second attempt that i’m being stalked, that i’m holding off answering ‘fan mail’. so if you don’t hear from me, please don’t assume i’m ignoring you. i’m not, i’m just paranoid :)but i do want to thank victoria and shelia. thanks to those two, my site has nearly tripled the hits in one day. i checked it this morning, and nearly spit out my iced mocha when i saw the numbers. i was like “what the hell?” and i checked the email account i log all my mail from this site to see a number of fan mail. ‘woah’. i’m famous, and i didn’t have to take off any of my clothes! :)Check out Victoria’s page. She’s got me listed and even quote’s my poetry 🙂 woah. i think my poetry is all crap anyway, but we will NOT get into a long discussion of my self-worth at the moment.
Basically, you guys just rock :))
never there
so, a few issues ago, i stated that i got into contact with my friend Jeff after a fight we had some time ago. Jeff has been a fan of my site, and since i know him pretty well (duct tape, ohh yeah!) that i’ve been attempting to keep in touch with him now that i’ve found him again. i’ve gotten in touch with him a few days ago, and he sends me mail about how the other white jeff is now engaged.
this threw me for a loop last night. i was all set to do da’ chronicles, but, i found i was more depressed than anything. i went to bed early, snuggling up with a book.
this afternoon, i got a letter from jeff responding to my previous email, and he wanted me to clarify something for him. i ended up writing this long diatribe about how i felt (about jeff’s engagement) and then i started getting really angry.
i’ve been trying to pinpoint why i’ve been angry, and it’s not the fact that the other white jeff and i broke up. that’s no big deal, i’ve been dumped before. but what i was upset about is how callous and how careless he was towards me, and how i basically put up with it for so damn long. if i had stopped thinking with my pussy, and started thinking with my head, i would have fared much better. but i didn’t and here i am, nearly a year after the breakup, ready to kill people again.
i apologized profusely to jeff about this. it’s not his fault, and i know he knew i wanted to know, regardless of how i felt. i like jeff, personally, and i don’t want to him to think that i’m only speaking to him because we have a common ‘friend’ (snort). that’s not true at all. jeff and i have had many conversations, long before i met his ‘friend’, and i didn’t need to spend my time bringing all this crap up again.
(but you are now lisa, hello!)
yeah, i am. but it’s just that, it bothers the hell out of me how he broke it off with me and how, later i found, he broke it off with other people in rather immature and lame moves (like over group email).
people just get on my left nerves, and dammit, it irks me.
my consolation is that, what comes around, goes around. i take faith in karma and believe that he will someday get his. either he will tire of this new fling (which has happened before) and or she will break his heart. basically, it’s he that has to deal with his fucked up bullshit, not me. and i won’t keep adding more pressure to my relationship with justin (which, is actually fine) about this crap. it’s not worth it. i won’t intentionally sabotage my relationship with him for some dumb prick who looks icky in shorts. heh. that alone is my personal salvation. i keep thinking about the other white jeff, leaning back in his chair, with his fat hairy belly hanging over his shorts. i chuckle and realize all is good with the world again.
Side note: I’ve just went and grabbed my aol mail. If one more nit wit sends me a piece of spam entitled “Virtual Boy/GirlFriend”, I will scream!!
I do IM sometimes. You can find me as either LinuxGurl or MISGawdess 😉

black metallic

in some sort of impulse nature, i dyed my hair black. well, it’s not really “black”, but more dark brown. however with how my hair absorbs hair color, it *looks* black.
when i got into work yesterday, people were like “you did something to your hair?”
i told them i dyed my eyebrows.
shallow (last exit to yuppieville)
i’m finally getting a cellular phone.
this is damn frightening.
i guess flirting with the salesman helps with the deal.
i don’t know what it is about me and yuppie-ness, it’s not that i hate yuppies, but it’s that a lot of the people who fit the stereotype fit it too damn well. i have issues with people who drive the right kind of cars, and go to certain places and do all the right things.
san francisco is a city that places a lot of importance on materialistic ideals, and the problem is that since i’ve been living on the west coast, i’ve slowly started becoming one of THEM.
someone help me.
here are some points that i’m referring to:

  • I know how to serve red wine.
  • I know when to serve white and red wine.
  • My two favorite types of cheese are feta and brie.
  • I own a cellular phone, three domains, a pager, and am in a highly visible job.
  • I’ve contemplated about purchasing stocks.
  • I’ve shown interest in getting together a 401k.
  • My car is a 1998 Saturn. It’s black.
  • I’ve kissed a girl.
  • I’ve participated in a quasi-fivesome.

Granted these things may not seem to be very yuppish, but they are totally Californian in attitude. Seriously, a few years ago, the idea of doing any of the above or even thinking about doing the above wouldn’t’ have entered into my mind. I used to be a person who loved her piercings, wearing black and driving around in my ’88 Subaru (which had a ton of stickers plastered on it). Some things gone awry!
the more i think about it, the more disgusted i find myself. this is not who i want to be, but yet it’s so appealing.
well, i can take pride in the fact that i’m not hanging out at Bruno’s every a fit of rage, i wore all black yesterday, but i felt like the stereotypical goth girl, and we couldn’t have that now can we?
i dunno, if someone mentions that i’m growing up, i’ll smack them in the face.
i think the disgusting part, is that i signed up for the cellular service today, i started dancing around the office going “i’m getting a cellular, i’m getting a cellular”.
my logic is that i need it for those extra long commutes into the city.
uh, yeah right.
she’s my friend
my friend traci asked if i was ever going to mention her in da’ chronicles, so here i am.
i’m going to kick your ass!
so here i’m sitting at my comp, with my headphone’s on my ears. justin is playing some fucked up tennis game on his comp, and i’m listening to catherine wheel:ferment.
our big halloween party is this saturday (which would naturally fall on halloween, how convenient). i’m dressing up like Siouxie from Siouxie and the Banshee’s. Justin is going as me. unfortunately, he can fit in my clothes better than i. which isn’t all that odd considering that a majority of the men i’ve dated in the past few years have this thing for wearing my clothes. well, at least they aren’t as bad as christian, who not only liked to wear my clothes, but be called Kelly and be fucked up the ass with a dildo.
why am i talking about this?
because a year and a half later i think it’s funny.
okay, that sounds like a good enough reason.
i’m finding myself extremely bored. the last few issues of da’ chronicle have been lame. i missed a streak in my hair. we just hired a new CFO and CTO. I’m IS working with BS because if I don’t work here, I’ll be SOL.
acronyms are so lame.
i’m audi five thousand g!
plus it doesn’t help that Justin was peeking over my shoulder every few minutes. My copy of Eudora is acting weird, and I’m tempted on moving over to another email program. my new shoes ROCK! but they are a bit too big. i love my hair in pigtails. big hair rocks. unfortunately my foot’s asleep.
not today, not tomorrow
i was going to talk about nt, but realized that i don’t wanna. i hate our nt machine. which, thankfully, is no more. i had reset all the permission sets because previously i had given everyone admin access (don’t bitch. the machine was isolated on the network). and then someone went through and changed everything. Dapper Don doubts that anyone could have reconfigured it, but, anyone who works at is a sneaky bitch as a given. the machine was fucked to begin with. just like all machines at work.
there is something fundamentally exhiltering about using fdisk and format.

i’ve got the knack!

yesterday when i got my phat paycheck, i had to drive out to the east bay to cash my it (long story), and since it was Friday and it was getting later in the afternoon, I got caught in early commuter traffic. What would normally take me 15 minutes to drive, took me nearly 1/2 hour.
I don’t like other drivers (other than myself, of course). Primarily those who drive bee-em-double u’s, jag’s, mercedes, volvo’s and any other expensive cars. They always think they have the right away, solely based on the fact that they think they own a better car. these same people always tend to be the worst drivers i’ve come across in ages (ie: they should be allowed to cut in front of me during heavy traffic).
Thursday night was such an example. Justin and I were attempting to drive home after work. for the most part, traffic isn’t that bad after 5pm, however that night it seemed worse than usual. a simple drive around the block turned into the nightmare.
there are several on-ramps for the bridge within a general mile radius, however, people would cut over from other lanes to get into the almost snails pace lane that lead onto the bridge. after being cut off several times by the offending cars listed above, i finally put my foot down (as it were) and stopped letting these assholes in front of me. it got to the point, where one car had to drive up on the curb because i wouldn’t let him in. If i had to suffer for x amount of minutes fucking waiting to get on the bridge, why should i let some jerk get my rightful spot? justin was amused. he always thinks my driving is death defying, but it isn’t. truly. i call it ‘defensive driving, 101’.
in other news, justin got the job at PBI (pacific bell internet), my old alma matter. he’s going to be making nearly twice what i make now! he’s doing simple tech support, while I’m theoretically IS (information systems). It’s sickening to know that he’s making more money than i, however, it is extremely exciting to not be rolling fucking pennies to survive. mayhap that is the extreme, but you do get my point.
i was amazingly not as uptight about traffic as i usually am. karena once commented that i was unusually patient whilst driving. she noted that she probably would have gotten quite upset with traffic or been overly irrational. i do get that way sometimes, but just being patient with traffic does help. you are obviously not going to get any further yelling and screaming. plus i have a ton of new cd’s and always available pack of cigarettes to help with the time.
which brings me up to something interesting.
on my so-called lunch hour the other day (Friday), I ran into the The Wherehouse (a record store in Berkeley) looking for cake’s new cd. while browsing for it, i found that everlast has a new cd out called Whitey Ford Sings the Blues. I remember Everlast from before he was in House of Pain, when he released his debut album Forever Everlasting. god, he is just so damn hot. 😉
Anyway, instinct told me to purchase the album, which i did. and damnit, if it doesn’t just rock! very spiritual, upbeat, hip-hop, and just plain rocking. for a white boy, he does have soul 😉
however, the problem i’m having is finding a copy of his first release Forever Everlasting. It was released by Warner Brother Records in 1990, and according to some sources, is still in print, however I can’t find it anywhere. I have searched cd now, cd universe,, musicblvd, and a host of other speciality stores to no avail. this plain just sucks. so if you or anyone else knows of where i can get a copy, please email me and lets hook something up! but don’t email me to tell me to try WB, because i’ve already done that 😉
new edition
one of the precepts of moving into our place was that cathleen be responsible for her pets. at that time, she had two cats and three fish. now we are up to four cats and one fish. 😉 no… the cat’s didn’t eat the other two fish. one of the fish is a catfish, and he is really vicious. if he’s not fed a x time everyday, he attacks the gold fish. now we just have a cat fish.
the inheritance of the other two cat’s came when christine lived in an area that was over run with cats, and had adopted a litter of stray kittens to make sure they weren’t going to go feral. since my cat merlin had gotten wild and my other cat sammy had gotten hit by a car, christine thought it would be a good idea to give me one of these kittens for my own.
this is how we inherited killer.
killer is one of those cats that you would literally think about taking to the pound. when we first got her, we trained her to use the litter box, but within a week of that training, she would get so upset with us that she would start shitting in my bedroom. and she had this tendency to jump and claw people for no reason. she gets along fine with cathleen to an extent, but justin and i can’t stand her. Justin calls her the personification of evil. She’s not friendly, loveable or even remotely cuddly. she just whines, hisses and shits all over the place.
when christine was moving in with fran, she had to make sure her two dogs, BadDog and Jennie, were going to be taken care of. That wasn’t a big issue since we have a large backyard and could easily do it. what became an issue was that cathleen opted to have us take the stray kitten left over from the litter and adopt it as our own.
this pissed me off, because while two of the cats, Muffin and BC, are outdoors for most of the time and can fend for themselves, they do get moods where they want to be indoors, which means more litter and also means food. which, for some periods, we don’t have. lack of money (and laziness on cathleen’s part 😉 meant no food for three cats for several days. killer needs her shots and needs to be spade, and we haven’t even attempted to do that! getting another cat, albeit killer’s sister, isn’t something we could afford.
i lost the argument.
so please welcome, into our nuthouse family, Zinfandel.
She’s the most amazing kitty i’ve had since Sebastian.
I’ve had my share of crazy cats: Chester (who still lives with my mom), who hates men and only comes to me and my mom. Simmy: twin sister to Merlin. She was fruitier than phil. Merlin went feral as soon as I moved to California. Sammy had the sweetest personality, but became the neighborhood cat, and was killed by a car. So the prospect of having another kitten, after all that trouble, wasn’t a huge hit with me.
But i’m falling in love with her.
Christine said that Zinny was a total outdoors cat. Since she was used to BadDog and Jennie, that wasn’t going to be an issue (unlike the other three who have been seriously freaking out since the dogs arrival less than a week ago). She said that Zinny was a bit standoffish and not cuddly.
Boy, was she wrong!
Zinny has taken over both Justin and I’s heart. She has a very good natured temperament, and is very cuddly and loveable. She loves to be petted and she’s so down to earth! Right now as we speak, she’s lying between my arms on my desk with her paws against my thumbs. 🙂 her favorite position seems to be on top of my monitor, on which she lies there watching me work. if i ever move from here, she’s definitely going with me. we just are bonding so.
Since the issue of money is now finally laid to rest, Justin and I went shopping Friday night and bought a 25lb bag of each: cat food, dog food and litter. Now I won’t feel so damn guilty with having four cats because now we can afford them. As soon as she’s old enough, we are taking both killer and Zinny to get spade. no more cats!
which brings up a funny incident…
today we decided to go grocery shopping. usually a chore i don’t mind doing, but justin hates it. since he is the bread winner in the family, he’s going to start paying for majority of the groceries. we get to lucky, and spend about 2 hours grabbing items and bickering about everything (what couple doesn’t do that?). after getting everything rung up, the bill comes to $166 dollars and change. We had bought -a lot- of stuff due to the fact that the outlet for the major appliances (fridge, stove, washer/dryer) had been down for a few days. so we had lost a lot of our regular food items that had spoiled. justin runs his debit card through. denied. justin runs it through again. denied. i run to the atm machine, and the most i can an pull out is 60 bucks! justin starts freaking out, and i calmly tell him that while he may have deposited his check, it hasn’t been processed. bank of america will allow up to $100 dollars taken out of the account till the deposit is processed. usually not a problem, but in an instance that you deposit it after 5pm on Friday then it’s a problem. so we had to do the ultimately white trashy thing and walk -away- after the clerk had rung up all those groceries.
god, how embarrassing.
the irony of that, was that i had left my money, in cash, at home. i had enough to cover for the food, and didn’t think twice about bringing it along with me. geez.
since we now had no groceries, we ran to taco bell for dinner. heh. and since we had a bit of money, we partook in a movie, Pleasantville, which was really good. The 60 bucks we had was blown after we got home. it’s amazing how much money you spend on a ‘date’
it was nice being with justin on an actual ‘date’ for once. we caught the movie and then spent some time in a bookstore afterwards. we looked around, checking out different topics while we sipped our hot cocoas and triple mocha iced lattes.
i miss doing stuff like that. now that money isn’t an issue anymore, i can’t wait till we start just doing -stuff-.

this one goes out to the one i love

First off, i wanted to say hi to jeff.
jeff and i found each other on #philosophy over two years ago. i thought he was a 40 year old so’n’so, and turns out he’s younger than me. 😉 he can be quite pissy at times, so thread gently as you enter. 😉
jeff and i talked about the other white jeff tonight, and in a sense questions that i wanted answers for were given. some of it was buried between the lines, and others were pretty much laid out plainly to see.
I couldn’t help flirting with Jeff, he brings that out in me.
i started thinking about all these wonderful things i was going to talk about right now. mainly about how i was happy for white jeff to have found someone, and then i realized, why kid myself? i mean, i keep obsessing over things that were never going to happen and things that should have happened and didn’t.
I obsess about a lot of things, and that i just one of my many quirks.
What I was actually surprised about was that Jeff read my webpage. He and I haven’t spoken in probably over a year, and mainly we stopped speaking over stupid shit. i always had a hunch that the tracks he was leaving behind on my logs were his, but, i didn’t want to start speculating again about being obsessive with fucking web logs.
jeff thought the entry i wrote on october 2nd was about him, and in a sense he’s right. because i have been thinking about him, and at one time i did have a crush on him. (HI Stebe!)
IRC is fucked like that.
I concluded the total irony of the whole situation, because after the whole debacle with the other white jeff, jeff and I are back where we were two years ago. it’s pretty obvious things some things never change.
I think i grew more angry at that, because i wanted to be able to say that all things have changed and i’m not the same person i was two years ago. but on the other hand, there are these dynamic things that we do that we can’t simply change.
no matter where you are, you are where you were in the first place.
there are a lot of things in my mind right now, but, it’s so damn late, and jeff and I as par usual stayed up for a few hours talking. i’ve smoked more than i care to remember, and my eyes are going heavy from being tired.
will report more from the bunker tomorrow.

unable to locate the installation log file

the beautiful thing about my job, is that i can multitask. which means i can work on a laptop that i use for the Internet 101 class, and work on my web pages at the same time.
There has been several times, that I have been asked to do something, and I have made some trite comment about how I can’t do that because I don’t have enough time. My managers have always scoffed and replied with something such as “yeah, right. you are the queen of multitasking.”
(windows is now restarting)
it’s been lovely, because when i was moved to the NOC (network operations center), they had run out of ethernet ports, and so sonya and I got our own hub. so i just found an rj45 cable and plugged her in baby. i want a laptop so bad. maybe if I’m good, santa clause will bring me one for Xmas.
don said that there must be something in the water. last night i got an email from jo stating that I owed (aka, the fucking place where I work) $96.25 to them for services. I got upset and shot off an email back to her stating that this issue was taken care of back in August, and that I was paid up to date with it. She wrote back and said no, that wasn’t true, and this is why: a detailed email included. I got up and walked the big 50 feet to her desk and said “I’m NOT paying blah blah blah.” and it resulted with her threatening to shut my account down (oh yeah right. let’s get real here for a second folks. The minute she put my account on hold, I would have automatically turned it back on). So Don talks to her, and it gets all straightened out, and everything is peachy once more. heh. like i knew it would be.
everyone has been really bitchy lately. hrm.
shirley came and grabbed me when we got back from lunch, and wanted me to put together a set of tables that twinkletoes ordered for the receptionist area. ripping apart the boxes, found two of the most god awful ugliest tables that i have ever seen. people came from all over the office to gawk, they were that bad. they were this art-deco laminated on top of plywood (which was painted black), and had odd shaped legs. The kicker was that the legs were screwed into the table with large wooden knobs, and on top of the knobs stood a glass partition. i can’t even find the words to describe how awful this is. i love gawdy, but this is just in plain bad taste.
the tables wouldn’t be so bad if it weren’t for the fact that twinkletoes went and purchased red leather chairs to match the stupid bouncing balls in our logo. our reception area looks like a bordello. heh.
shirley offered compensation for pulling me away, but i told her i was saving my powers for good and that i would collect later.
don is right. something is in the water. daniel and i just got into a little tiff. i need a stiff drink and bad.
don’t you want me baby
so the Internet 101 class went fairly well. We had about 10 people show up, and with different degrees of Internet savvy (from not knowing about a browser is to high end stuff) it was pretty chaotic.
justin came and monitored my class and told me what i should do in the future. i spent today planning the class and reworking it as well as cleaning out the old lap top (486/66 with 16MB of ram) to get it functioning properly. His critique helped in many ways, and it also begged the issue of whether or not we should offer two classes: one for beginners and one for intermediate people. this is something i’m going to speak with don about tomorrow.
but what was amusing, was that sonya and darryl hung out after work. they had planned on going to the gym, but never made it. so sonya comes in and starts monitoring the class, and i knew why:
hottie in the room!
he was flirting with me (i think that by me saying ‘this is my roommate’ (referring to justin) didn’t fool anyone) and asked her out.
damn was he hot!
darryl chided us both saying that we were so shallow for not asking his name, but, heh. erm. it wasn’t deep conversation that we were thinking about that required us to ask his name. heh. okay, that is shallow, but i was upset when we left because i -wanted- him to ask me out, and he didn’t. i wanted the pleasure of saying ‘no’. and that didn’t happen.
i can be so shallow sometimes.

logitech mouseware

i feel about as creative as a cat on a hot tin roof.
well piss up a rope and call me betsy.
i’ve spent, YET AGAIN, another fruitless evening trying to get this page somewhat contained and running. but i get this bug up my ass on re-doing it, and i spend all fucking night looking at other people’s pages, and not even bother working or bothering about myself.
I’m no damn graphic designer, and yet I can code mean html (I’m one of those people who will use ONLY notepad for coding (sic)). yet I spend half my time, in worthlessness trying to get some decent graphics up.
god, i hate my life.
i’m bored.
i’m frustrated because, back in 1995, when I first started doing some sort of journalling on the web, i was one of the first set of 1000’s that did so. even then, some of the main pages are now gone, but i remember getting accolades about having such a fine mind, and this that and then some. and now, NOW you ask?
Well it seems that every tom, dick and george has their own page. and it’s annoying. and it’s like, one chicky was whining in her journal because her page hits went up to something like 72 hits already in one day. And I wonder if she knew about the fact that every time she reloaded her page (talk to the hand, because the face ain’t listening), she would ring off her counter. and people wonder why I love cookies.
Due to a request of one person, I’ve set up to have The Lisa Chronicles served fresh daily to your email box. Click on the subscribe button to your left. Or the handy one highlighted for you above.
I feel really mean tonight, so kindly go fuck off.

management reserves the right to change without notice

the last few weeks i’ve been having these thoughts about people i knew/grew up with/worked with. first it started with shelly and i trying to find the number to our friend Josh.
josh and i were best friends throughout high school, and as we got older, we slowly started to drift apart. it was sad, and a lot of our other mutual friends in our group were concerned about my reaction to losing him as we grew up, dated and basically started making lives for ourselves.
i used to say “well, i don’t miss him anymore.”, and truth be told, i do. but the funny thing is, i don’t miss anything about my past life in grand rapids, mi. and then i will stumble upon something and i start having heart palpitations all over again.
but when those feelings start coming up again, i actually start getting homesick. it makes me want to throw away everything i have here in san francisco, and move back to what is familiar.
sherry, josh, shane, rick, sunshine, sky, shelly, alan, danny, boobie, anthony, carl, greg, aaron, todd, eric, adam & sloth, jennifer & jeff, clyde, fernando, dani : the list is endless of people i knew or hung out with. but the funny thing is, the more i start to think about ‘home’, the less i can remember of it. i try to think about what it was like in the winter, and what it was like during the summer. the things we did, the fun we had. the clubs we went to, the parties we threw, the shows we went to see. it’s all this black void that i can’t seem to drum up anymore.
i was thinking how no matter where i was, i would always be ‘me’. this persona i’ve held dear to my heart. that i would never change, not one iota, because i wanted to keep the things that made me happy close to my heart.
i found, that reflecting back on people i know and how i was around them, that i did change. and changed a lot. my perception of the world, and what i know around me has changed my own outlook. the things i thought i would never catch myself doing (drinking wine is a big example), and the change in my own ideas (in a quasi-five some) startle me when i actually think about them. when i think about what it would have been like if I would have stayed, this is what i drum up:

  • married to danny
  • living in some nice house in the ‘good’ part of town
  • pregnant / have kids
  • being a homemaker

some would say “now that doesn’t sound like such a bad thing”, and to be honest, some people would be happy having that. Personally though, i’ve never saw myself as being that centered in one place. it’s too foreign and too normal. i can’t see myself running after rugrats and cleaning up after my husband all day long. it just isn’t me.

charmed, i’m sure
since justin wasn’t feeling well (and when isn’t he), we decided to forego having dinner with Edward and Karl, and stay at home. This is our same old same old game plan, and watched ‘dawsons creek’, ‘charmed’, and ‘south park’. man, was south park funny tonight or what? it sure as hell doesn’t beat last weeks with cartman being a five dollar hooka from vietnam. but it was still pretty. but, that doesn’t matter, because:


oh god, you have no idea. i’ve loved r.e.m. for something like 10 years! going back to document. when i heard they were playing for the bridge school benefit (along with phish, sarah m., bare naked ladies), i was I HAVE TO GO NOW! but the word on the streets was that the tickets were hard to get, and sold out. nerp. i checked bass tickets and they had released tickets in both general and reserved seating.


you have no idea what this feels like. tomorrow i’m going to drag my rem cd’s with me and torture everyone i know to listen to them. i’m just too too happy about going to go see them. finally!

fun with quick cams

as stated previously, my friend will sent me a quick cam some time ago. after one attempt at getting it running, it wasn’t till my friend kruton has started begging me for pics of myself. i said “okay” as long as justin was in the pics as well. kruton agreed.
due to some fuck up, my keyboard doesn’t work with the quick cam hardware. so we just took random shots of us, and this is what is filling the entry for today.

smart, sexy, fabulous

every time i’m in a store that sells magazines, i always look at justin and say “one day i will look like that” as i point to the latest issue of vogueglamour, mademoiselle (which are all ironically owned by the same company).
i always see this breathtaking beauty with boobs out to here and legs so long even that drives me insane with my 34 inch inseam. i look at what i’m holding in my hand, whether it would be a can of diet coke or a bag of something fat free, and suddenly start chastising myself for not being the chick on the rag.
okay, i know that something like 8% of the population is that model-icious, however, whenever someone hears that i’m 6′ tall, the impression i always feel is that they expect me to be -that- small. and i’m not. and there is no way on this earth that i could weigh that little and not be in the hospital.
it angers me, on many levels that i feel this way. it angers me that i, after 26 years, can’t feel comfortable in my own skin. it angers me that i can’t accept myself as i am, and it also angers me that i can’t be the chick on the mag.
living in a world, at least in my mind, that feels so image driven, my personalities are always at war with each other. i could go out with friends and have guilt trips about eating pasta. on the other hand, i attempt to try and find solace in something and eat my fat free ice cream drowned in hershey’s syrup (which is ironically, a fat free food). diets, pills, self-hypnosis, i feel like i’ve tried them all.
to me, i feel like a freak. justin says i’m beautiful (and i quip he’s only saying that because he is sleeping with me), and every man i’ve met thinks i’m beautiful (again, because i feel that they are saying that because they are with me). getting a man has never been a problem (“lisa,” justin says, “you have a big ego.”), but feeling good about myself has been.
i’ve always felt that i’ve been at war with myself because of that. i have always feel that i either do one of two things:

  • lose weight
  • gain weight to wear lane bryant clothes

my body is in this in between stage: too big to buy ‘regular’ clothes and too small for the ‘fat stores’.
this past summer, justin and i found several stores that catered to the ‘plus’ size woman. i found the funky clothes that i liked without feeling awful about the size. so i thought. one time, i grabbed this really cute long blue patterned skirt, and it said it was a size 3x. i tried it on. a tad too small. the skirt was on sale, and i figured i was just bloating so i bought it anyway. i took it home and showed my roommate who put it on. now, my roommate wears a size 9/11, and the skirt fit perfectly. she and i started laughing about the irony of a size 3x skirt that was made for ‘my size’, and fits my roommate instead.
t’s a joke.several months ago, i made plans to meet sonya and group of friends for a night of bar hopping. justin and i had been driving with michael all over scenic highway 1, from sf to santa cruz. we had gotten home really late, and i was planning on just jumping in the shower and getting dressed. after picking out my clothes and laying them out, i started drying myself off, and started getting dressed. my shirt felt tight, my skirt even tighter. when i did my hair, my face looked bloated and unreal. i felt totally disgusted with myself and started crying about how fat i was and how miserable i felt. i quickly got undressed and put my clothes away. i put my fav sweats on and sat in front of the computer, doing nothing but moping about my lack of self-esteem.
justin keeps telling me how much of a beautiful body i had. what wonderful skin, and how curvy i am. he keeps telling me, over and over, about how great i look in certain outfits and how men react to me. he’s just saying that cos he’s fucking me.
i recall this one time, alan and i had gone bra shopping. we were wandering around this store looking at all the pretty bras, when alan said to me: “with your face and cindy crawford’s body, you could make a lot of money (modelling).” i grew so angry at that, and to this day, i can still us in my hindsight, in the store and how i felt. and how his words haunt me to this day, six years later.
i guess the stigma of being the ‘fat girl’ in my younger years have never really left me. of all the times i’ve been set up on blind dates to be dumped later on because i was ‘too big’ (or too tall or too this or too that). or that when i was involved with someone, that i could never really feel comfortable being naked with them because i was always conscious about my size. it never mattered to me what they thought (honestly), it was what i thought they thought about me that made the difference (in my mind).
i’ve always tried to be honest with myself and my body image. the days of wanting to be a size 6 is long gone, and i’m comfortable with that. i just want to feel and look good, to my own design. but when i see magazines, that cater to my generation, showing 6′ models, with size 2 body, it piss’s me off. and i still don’t get why, after 20 years of feminism, that those magazines are still talking about ‘how to get the man you want!’ (which ironically still applies to those ditz’s who are too insecure with themselves.) or some other crap about this that or them some. it always has pictures of these super-skinny models with their model bf’s. real life isn’t like that.
nearly a year ago, i lamented about the same thing, and i had started a section on my web pages called ‘life’ that was in tuned with the more current issues at hand then my usual blathering. i had included an image from the body shop (which promotes beautiful women in all ages and sizes and has a great skin care products to boot) and a rant similar to this one. the image showed a ‘big woman’ and the face looked like barbie. the makers of barbie were pretty indigent about how having that ‘similarity’ on the body shop’s page, and the body shop was forced to put an x in the middle of the doll’s face. the doll was called ruby btw.
i got a lot of email from strangers telling me how great it was to find something so positive about being a ‘bbw’ (i hate that acronym, and what it stands for. i always feel like i should be weighing 300lbs and be called bertha). and it’s not that i was feeling positive about the whole, it just piss’s me the right off that we can’t just accept each other for who we are and not what we are.
i won’t kid myself and think that everyone thinks i’m beautiful, because it’s not true: i mean, this is what makes us all induhviduals is the fact that what we like is all different. it just pisses me off that magazines, retailers, clothiers, and everyone in the fashion industry keeps trying to push down our throats that we need to all not be larger than a size 6. it’s fucking ridiculous and no one should have to stand it.
but we do stand it, and it’s sickening.
recently, a new magazine is in town, touting to the plus sized women (starting at size 12 and above). so far, from what i’ve seen, the magazine has been a success and people are clamoring that it’s been a long time coming. thinking along those lines, i subscribed to the mag, and i’m going to see what it’s all about. will it actually cater to fashion that i like (the high falutin crap/trendy crap) or is it going to be the retread of the now defunct mag BBW that pretty much showed big ass women wearing clothing from omar the tent maker?
i guess we will wait and see.

fixed memories

i fixed the links for my ‘personal’ page. so instead of looping around to this index, you actually get to see more of me. (crowd roars)
i was driving into SF to pick justin up from work today, when i felt that i was in some sort of time continuum. it felt like the mere 15 minute drive was hours. i looped around downtown sf, looking for a place to park, and i felt like it was this continuous flow. i am attempting to clarify what i was feeling at the time, but it’s not quite getting there.
i hate it when i have all this information i wanted to talk about, and it’s not coming out like i want it to.
that really sucks my dick.
fan mail
since i can’t remember, what i was thinking of, i decided to head on to another topic: fan mail.
last night, i received a few pieces of fan mail, pertaining to yesterdays entry. i was both pleased and surprised at the same time. i get fan mail, occasionally, but sometimes it’s from people who want me to find god or some shit. whatthefuckever.
both emails, which came in fairly close to each other, talked about how funny they think i am. i think “hey that’s great. i can be pretty funny.”, but, sometimes, when i’m in moods like this, it’s not about being funny but what i feel. (hey johnny, what’s it going to be?) but thanks guys for the email 🙂 you’re the reason that i write this crap (well, not the only reason, but i’m not going to start arguing with myself to get more hits.) always tell me that you love me.
memories part deux
i’m sitting here crawling around my desk, tearing things apart looking for my fumbling towards ecstasy cd, thinking that this would help the semi-writers block that i’m having, but i can’t fucking find it. i’ve torn apart my stereo, my roommates stereo, my cd-case, my cd holder. i know it’s not in my car. i can’t find it in my house. god damnit, thelma!
i think i’ll go do something entertaining now.
like pick my nose or something.
actually, I just found solace, so i can deal. it’s sorta jived my memory about what i was thinking about earlier (dammit i should have pen and paper always around me).

strange currencies
i was dating this psycho-wench for a while.
she absorbed everything i liked and did and
began mirroring me. all i seem to have
picked up is emoticons.
Ralph W. Middaugh, Jr

justin was dinking around his machine, and we started kissing. which lead to us fucking in the kitchen, which didn’t work too well because he is soo tall and even with me on my tip-toes, i couldn’t bend over enough for him to do me like a dog. so we commence into the bedroom, rip our clothes off and fuck like crazy. i say something like “i don’t want to hear you talk about love.” and he says “okay, i love to fuck you then.”
after we are done, and talking, he says something that sparks this weird correlation in my head.
(getting ready to run windows for the first time.)
i remembered my roommate (psycho-bitch irene) calling me when I was in pennsylvania about the fucking rent. which lead my thoughts to when i found a strand of long red hair in the towel in the person’s bathroom i was staying at. which lead me to remember phone sex. which i haven’t done in, well, probably a year. which now leads me to remember making snow angels in the front of the dorm at wilkes-barre university. which reminds me that my friend michael telling me about how his hero did the groundwork for the train between wilkes-barre and new york.
i’m in a strange mood.
i just emailed ralph and told him to entertain me.
every time i go to kiss justin, he says “now don’t bite!”.
i feel angry, sad, depressed, melancholy, aggressive, nosey.
i think i will just go watch another harrison ford movie, Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom or
something. Harrison Ford was soooooooooo hot when he was young(er).
shit, this entry is worthless drivel. and it’s past midnight, so it’s the fourth already.
just fuck me running.
(in 1992, there was only 2,000 domains registered on the internet. now there is over 5 million.)