Do I look like a fucking people person?

high finance
fucking bank of america.
when i had signed up as a customer, i had signed up for direct deposit. as a direct deposit customer, i do not get charged for bank fees for having a checking account. saving me a big $5.50 a month. so, imagine my surprise when i got my first statement to find that yes, i had been charged that lousy 5.50. i call them, and complain. first the person i spoke with said that the last deposit made into my account wasn’t direct deposited. i said oh yeah? what happened? some magical little fairy just decided to put monies in my account? then she hands me to the manager, some snobby bitch, who proceeded to tell me that it states in black and white that it doesn’t become a direct deposit account until money is direct deposited. i said, but you can’t have money direct deposited until you get the account and routing numbers! which means that the first deposit is going to be done by hand! hello! fucking morons.
then, today, i’m checking the on-line statements and it says that they charged me $10 dollars for insufficient funds — which I don’t have! fucking jesus christ on a pogo stick! there is money in the account — i’ve only written one check, which is far LESS then what is in the account. god, i hate calling them because they act like their are so superior to us common folks who make less than 6 figures. fucking morons. geez. now i have to go to the school bookstore and pay with my credit card — which is actually my debit card attached to my direct deposited account! grrr.
busy little bee
i’ve got a few things lined up on my plate:

  • tomorrow i’m being interviewed by wired for something i cannot discuss at this time. i actually leaked the story to several other reporters but since this person was the first one to get back to me, he has full rights to it. anyway, i will provide more information once the story leaks this week.
  • i had some complaints about the lisa chronicles. basically it came from the person who first initially wanted me to do this via email. he said that while my life is interesting enough to read about, he was bored with the old lisa. he wanted “more”. including videos, pictures, etc. i’m like? what the fuck here. my life to you is what choose to give you. anyway, i decided that the personal section about me needed a major lift, so i’ve been working on that this last week. it’s a time consuming — since it takes me awhile to get everything up and running. it might take me a few weeks to get it completed and uploaded. as usual, i’ll post when it’s completed. 🙂
  • school. always taking up time. i forewent the super bowl tonight to work on my website, which meant i’m waiting to the last minute to study. but, i’ll pull a 4.0 this semester. i know it 😉

i’ve been thinking for awhile about giving back to those who have helped supported me since i’ve been doing the lisa chronicles. So i decided that the coolest thing to give would be t-shirts to all the subscribers of the list. T-shirts are cool — we all love them. So what better way to honor those who helped me then to give them something back?
Here is the deal:

  1. There is currently 15 people subscribed to the list. Once I have hit 25 (I might change this to 50) subscribers by February 28th, 1999, I will be sending out an announcement to the list on gathering info (mailing address and t-shirt size).
  2. If I don’t hit my mark by that said date, I’ll be sending out an email anyway to those subscribed to the list and requesting specific information. Any t-shirts left (I make 50 shirts, there are 10 left as only 40 people are subscribed), will be SOLD for the cost of the shirt plus shipping and handling.
  3. Recap: If you want a shirt, and you are on the list, you get one FREE. If you are not on the list, and want a shirt, you will have to PAY for it.

The shirts will be cool. I’ve already done the design. It’s just a matter of me buying the supplies and making them.
Some things to consider:

  • Going over the hit mark (25 or 50): At this point, I will do it on a first come first served basis. If I get more requests then what I’ve stipulated, I will work out a trade agreement or barter or something. I’m po’, so I can’t afford obviously to give shirts to everyone.
  • Concern over privacy: this is understandable. I run four mailing lists and I have never had the inclination to sell my subscribers to anyone. I hate spam just like anyone else. If you don’t want me to know that you are reading this (as I’m familiar at who is coming to the site by dns/ip number — not necessarily the person) then I guess you lose out 🙂

If I’m leaving anything out, please let me know. I’ll add more as I think about this.
This is obviously a blatant request to get more subscribers to the list as well as readership. But no one said i had morals or ethics! 😉
Now, don’t be sending me information on how you want a shirt and blah blah blah now. Wait till February 28th or subscribe to the damn list! 😉

Don’t bother me. I’m living happily ever after.

sell out

What if I’m three-dimensional and I have all these experiences,
and I want to include my anger in my vocabulary of emotions?
I don’t want to leave that out of my work, yet I insist
on not being reduced to it. ani difranco

not so long ago, i used to have all this rage.
anger at the world in which we live in — on how it is being treated — on how things are done. peoples stupidity, moronic defenses we have for a government, our perceptions of each other and how we relate. i was going to change the world one day — help those who were not as enlightened as i was.
and so i wrote those same experiences down. put them in journals, on the web, anywhere and everywhere. picking fights on IRC channels, email lists and in person. Getting people to see that life was not necessarily about black or white, it was a multitude prism of gray. i used to fucking CARE!
there was a pattern to my madness. sitting for hours in my bedroom — writing. showing emotion, no matter how poorly constructed it was. FEELING pain. happiness. sadness. joy. delirium. a myriad of emotions all bundled into my nice neat 6′ frame.
But I don’t feel anymore. I’ve become this homogenized version of the yuppie life style. Po’ but still — some version that needs a cell phone, a pager and having fucking health BENEFITS. I mean, my god. I’m planning this completely materialistic career to make fucking money. for what end? what means? To get myself out of debt? What for? It just does not make sense!
i loved living on the edge. having melodrama whipped up for me, pre-packaged in a pretty box with instructions. i loved feeling that i had a certain edge over other people. It is not possible they could feel what _i’m_ feeling nor could they begin to _understand_ what i’m understanding. it just was. god, i fucking miss it. Is this what sanity is all about? being this complete pseudo-Valium induced happiness? Neither happy nor sad? Get into a car accident? shrug it off. Friends son’s father gets killed by a bullet to the brain? big deal. Completely and utterly dead. cold. frigid. lack of human emotion. me and my fucking blue spot. patterns. complete and utter static life. no change. chop hair off, dye it — hope for new vive on life. spend hours readingother people’s pain to live vicariously through theirs. spark. lack of interest. People used to comment on how special I was.
Whine whine whine. Bitch bitch bitch. I realized the other day, with he popularity of doing on-line journalling — it was becoming virtually impossible with having _your own_ life. Why? simple. you read about so many other people’s experience that you can no longer differentiate between what _you_ did and what _they_ did.
it’s become almost ironic. i bitch, yell and scream to ex-lovers about their masking of emotion and feeling. how cold and unresponsive they were. and now, almost bitter sweetly, i can see how they felt on the receiving end. as stated before, both justin and danny comment on my lack of willingness to divulge anything pertinent.
The other night, Sherry called me. She was having men problems. To console her, out of my mouth came — “Do you really want to end up living with me in 30 years with 10 crotchety old cats? Get off your high horse girl and _talk_ to the damn man.” And it’s like “HELLO! LISA!! Clue for you!” numb. this is what it has become. this numbness. i don’t care if the world went down tomorrow — good riddance. i would think about suicide — but i’m too fucking lazy to do it. back in the day, when I did think about suicide, I would think to myself “I will show those evil bastards!” *evil cackle* and now, I only roll my eyes and light up a cigarette.
So while writing this, I’ve concluded I’ve sold out to the man. No more dynamic, hello static. I cannot imagine living this sort of lifestyle for the rest of my days. It seems inconceivable! Impossible!
c’mon c’mon c’mon c’mon
give me a spark. make me still care
make me want to feel
rape me. beat me.
MAKE ME WRITE BAD CHECKS! (wait, you did. $158 for college books. but just barely.)
When I was younger, in order to get rid of the pain, I used to sew my fingers together with needle and thread. self-mutilation. pulling hair. biting nails. all sorts of crazy shit. when i got older, i used to stand in my room and throw anything breakable. after i went through the bric a brac, i started on the dishes my mother had in the kitchen. now my mothers new house (well new being operative word here) doesn’t have any bric a brac. Of course not — I broke it all.
when i got older, i started piercing my body. a nipple here. a tongue there. biting my lip till it bled. thinking of a thousand and one ways I could die. Plotting murders of anyone that had crossed my path.
I fear death. I fear dying. I cannot accept it’s a natural part of life. Something innate in me refuses to accept this. Books upon books on studies on death lying in my bedroom. I can’t even READ them. As if I was going to die tomorrow (I could…). When I travel to work, I fear an earthquake is going to throw me off the Bay Bridge and into the bay. I’ll die, trapped in my fucking car. brand new that is. 1998 Saturn. swimming pools. movie stars.
And I’m getting so fucking claustrophobic in elevators. The new renovations at work have me seething. All because I have to take the damn elevator down ONE flight. That’s all — one flight. And _every_ single time I step into that damn thing, I keep thinking I’m going to plummet to my death. Oh sure, what the fuck ever. I’m heading towards the _basement_. I think I’m going to leave Justin on the couch and sleep alone tonight.
Just me and Teddy.
And some improbable perky book that will make think I’m okay.
13.5 hours later
Per my style, if i start writing the chronicle, and it is after midnight, i date it for that day. meaning, if it is technically 12:01 am, Saturday January 30th, 1999; i date it as such. So, now you know.
Now i’m awake.
When i left us last night, I turned off all the lights, took my contacts out and got into bed. I left Justin on the couch. He eventually climbed in several hours later. I don’t remember that. But i remember waking up next to him. anything i had been feeling before i had hit the sheets was gone. except my whole lower abdomen area started to itch. i climbed out of bed and went to the bathroom. i had started my period. self-induced depression has to be good for something.
i re-read what i wrote and it sounds so final. “I had started my period. he eventually climbed in several hours later.” strange. it doesn’t seem to flow like it usually does out of my head and into my fingers.
i think i’ll end this now and spell check everything and upload it. i’ve got studying to do.
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A hard-on doesn’t count as personal growth.

working it
I hardly talk about clothes (one of my favorite passions) in my chronicles. It seems a bit shallow or maybe a bit self-indulgent. However, something occurred yesterday that was humorous that I just have to share.
Yesterday (1.25.99), I was wearing a gray skirt, light pistachio colored shirt and black chunky shoes. I also was wearing my usual three necklaces (two chokers and a pendent that hung a bit above my cleavage. I also had on a dark green wool sweater jacket as it was fairly warm in SF yesterday.
Got the picture in your head? Good.
So I’m leaning up against the wall, waiting for the 10a class to exit so that I could hit my 11a class. A few girls walked by me, checking me out (women always check out what other women are wearing, no matter what). This black girl comes up to me and says:
her: Where did you get that skirt?
me: *thinking* Eddie Baur.
her: Girl, you’ve got it going ON! I like it.
me: thanks.
She then literally, snaps her fingers in z formation and left.
I was a bit amused and feeling a tad more confident. I get told, over and over again, by women, men (bi,gay and straight) that my self-confidence and clothing carries really well. I was told by one person that one of the only reasons he gravitated towards me at work (he’s bi) was because I was the only one who knew how to dress.
I’ve never really thought so, personally. My trend for clothing tends to stick to a few classics and whatever funky stuff I can find. People _want_ to go shopping with me. I’ve had several offers to go shopping in Chicago (when I lived in Michigan) and downtown San Fran since my early 20’s. I also had another friend who said that he would LOVE (he’s gay) to go shopping with me in Toronto, because he knew I would be so much fun. I would assume this is a good thing. I keep clothing for long periods of time, even if I can’t wear it, to motivate me to lose weight. I’ve got a few skirts right now I _used_ to wear to motivate me even more to drop the poundage. But that is neither here nor there.
I try and make it a habit of not matching my pieces. For instance, last week or so, I wore the same gray skirt with a brown polyester button down and a burgundy sweater. I got compliments up the ying-yang about it. People just love the way I dress. If I were to name favorite fabrics, it would be: polyester, rayon and cotton. a poly-blend is also pretty nice. One of these years, I should throw up the photo-album i have of me since childhood, but I haven’t seriously thought about it. I need to do a few more pics of me in the now, as hardly anyone outside immediate friends and co-workers has seen my short hair (which is now red — again). Another project for the future.
Since I have gone back to college, I can defer my student loans. However, I only pay $50 bucks a month for them. My roommate, who has both her undergrad and grad from Berkeley in Poly Sci, has had her loans kick in to the tune of $750 PER MONTH. Shite. That is about the price of some mortgages. However, she found a way around that.
She and I were talking last night, and she realized that if she took 6 credits this semester, not only would she not have to pay her student loans they would also be deferred for another 6 months AFTER the last class. But if she takes 6 credits a semester — lord knows how long before she has to kick the funds back to the loan agencies. She’s not working towards any other degree — well, her doctorate, but the classes she is taking doesn’t count for that. She’s taking “fun” classes. She and I both were thinking about taking Western African Dance at Laney college. I imitated some sort of fucked up version of my interpretation of African dance. It sent Justin into peals of laughter.
The cool thing about California community colleges is that credits are 12 bucks a credit hour. In Michigan, I was paying 50. Talk about savings. Cathleen figured that a 200 dollar investment _now_ ($72 for classes, the rest for books) would be far worth it now then to kill herself paying back the student loans.
I hereby claim myself perpetual student!

Make yourself at home! Clean my kitchen.

intense copper red
the weekend is almost over, but unlike every other weekend this time it’s different. I wish I could give a better description (as justin is sitting here kneading my shoulders) but I can’t. I just feel completely and totally in love with the world at the moment.
jeff s or jeff z?
Jeff S. or Jeff Z.?
Shit. I’m going to go with Jeff S. Justin and I were sitting here debating about it. I had no interest in looking at Jeff Z’s kitty cam, I just need a pic to compare the two to see who was who. Goddamnit! 😉
I’m really hoping that Jeff S. isn’t going to be too pissed for me swiping this picture. Strange, the last picture I have of Jeff S. shows him in this 80’s haircut from when he graduated from college (in 96). he’s cute, but not the hottie you see before you. If it is Jeff Z? Big deal. I would much prefer it to be Jeff S.
What is also strange is this dream I had last night. In fact I had several dreams. One of them was me getting with two girls (not at the same time mind you). must have been a wet dream 😉
the other dream was I was with this man and it wasn’t someone that i had ever been with before in any context. and he was my true love. either i’m wishful thinking or watching too many movies. but i felt so goddamn happy when I woke up. Jesus, someone smack me. I’m not perky polly!
Anyway, this picture looks remarkably like that guy. What if it is Jeff Z? Well like I said, it looks remarkably like that guy. If it is Jeff S.?
Well, unfortunately, I ruled out all men in the state of Pennsylvania, so either he would have to move or it isn’t him.
but it’s a nice thought.
now for the depressive part of the list, my friend shelly called me the other night to tell me that Larry had been murdered. Larry is her sons Marcus father. Seems that Larry has been working these last few years at this club in G-Rap called 54th Street. I used to go there on occasion. He bounces the door and one night (that night) a few patrons were attempting to get inside the club when they knew the bar was closing. Larry kept attempting to keep them out. One of the guys pulled a gun on him and shot him in the face. The bullet went right up his nose and through his brain. He was pronounced dead at 5:30am in the morning.
I knew Larry as well, and I felt horribly guilty about his death. I know, I know, it was not my fault. But it always kills me when someone who is attempting to get their life together ends up dying violently. Shelly is faring pretty well. She and Marcus are going to be driving up to Michigan (from Virginia) for the funeral later on this week. I was tempted to go as well but I couldn’t take the time off and I would be there more for Shelly then for Larry’s family. Shelly said that was quite okay with her, as she had already was fine and was more concerned about Marcus then anything else.
cute boyz
There are two cute boys in my poly sci class. None in my cultural anth class, none in my physics class and 1 cute boy in my tragic drama’s in Greek history class. I’m set.
old friends
I popped my email today to find that I had gotten a letter from an old school friend of mine, Jenni Lusk. Jenni and I go -way- back (to 10th grade even). I haven’t spoken to her (or really anyone) since I moved to cali. I immediately emailed her back and gave her all my phone numbers. She called a bit later.
It was wonderful speaking to her. I hadn’t spoken to her in ages. We caught up on her and her son Dalton’s life as well as people we both knew. Seemed that everyone had the same thing going on and nothing had really changed. It was strange that I was just thinking of her and Julie a few days ago and wondering how they were. I didn’t get a chance to speak to either one of them when I went back home to G-Rap for Christmas. I had mostly figured that they had all moved away, which is obviously common in people in my age group.
We talked for about an hour or so, catching up on things.
Sometimes I really, really miss home.

still breathing

I saw the most amazing film this weekend.
still breathing.
Justin, as always, fell asleep and snored through it. I’m attempting to find words to describe the movie. But the thoughts are escaping me at this moment. The movie is defientely lush in it’s cinematography. It almost made me want to move to San Antonio, Texas because the scenery was so fantastic. It’s the story of two hard-headed pessimists who fall in love. not just any type of love, but true love. you know, the kind i’m sort of desentized to now. 😉
I don’t know what it is about that movie, but I feel ‘hopeful’. I can’t quite explain how I feel other than things feel, taste and smell different to me. I’ve been a strange mood all day. One of neither hyperness, excitable, or anything that would convey some sort of “happy” emotion. I just feel “hopeful” about things now. Maybe it’s the fact I’m heading back to school (and it’s already started! wooo!) or maybe because jeff s. emailed me today out of the blue to show me his cam. or maybe because while people are sneering at my short hair, i’m absolutely loving it. I have no idea what it is that is making me feel so damn happy, i just am!
I felt, watching that movie, that i was missing a lot of out my life. It wasn’t really about who I was with (Justin) or what I was doing, it was internal. completely. strange how movies make you feel sometimes. I remember when I had seen Map of the Human Heart a few years ago, I felt the same thing: hopeful.


As many of you probably already know, i’m hitting the books starting today.
I have been talking about going back to school for the last two years, since I left in spring of 96, but never got around to it. I dreamed about it, thought about it, scammed for it, but nothing occurred. Finally, I sat down with myself and said “look, you -are not- getting any younger. you have to take the opportunities -now- or else you will regret not finishing your degree.” so true. I don’t care on how I do it, but I want to finish my degree by the time I am 30. That’s the only stipulation. I’ve thought about what I could do, and realistically I could finish it this semester. If I took 22 credits, plus work full time, plus this and that. I was very tempted to take an NT course because then I could say I had -some- certification. My boss Don thinks that I should go into computers because I’m talented, and a degree would get me anywhere. But I want to be a writer -> though the money is in computers. Nothing is saying that I can’t do both. A person who has a CS degree can do just about anything -> really. I never applied to half of the jobs that I wanted because I’m not certified. I’m all self taught. Shit. I’m having issues at 6:20am in the morning. I can’t be having that! Hrm.
I think I will go take a look at the course catalog right now and see what’s happening.
1 hour later
Found all the courses that I wanted and was able to set it up so that I won’t be killing myself. Somehow I managed on getting 20 credits this semester (just 2 shy of graduation), however it doesn’t seem like that bad of a schedule. this is what I’m signing up for:

  • Political theory
  • US History
  • Elementary Physics
  • Philosophy of Religion
  • Cultural Anthropology
  • Elementary French

Sweet huh?
I’m pretty stoked about my classes. See, I’ve already completed all the basics except for the humanities qualifications as well as my stupid history class. I have two I(ncompletes) due to my accident in 1994, but I kept reneging on finishing those up. Ugh. Plus a science class is needed. The astronomy classes were lame 😉 Nothing like what was offered at GRCC
So I got my unofficial transcripts faxed to me yesterday. It was cool. My overall GPA was higher than anticipated (I hadn’t even though I had hit a 2.0) and I’m just shy of a 3.0. I was so stoked. I just needed a 2.0 to get into a major college. Surprisingly enough, I could have applied to a multitude of colleges and gotten in based on my scores already. Plus add in all the extra-curricular work I did on the outside, I’m not as bad as I thought. But, I want to go to school -now- and am doing it -now-. You can’t transfer more than x amount of classes to certain colleges, but I have 38 credits thus far (thought I had more) so that’s fine as well. This will put me at 58 (if I take all classes and complete all classes). I’m soo stoked. badda boom badda bang 🙂
interweb 101
the internet is so damn cool sometimes. i constantly am amazed at what you can do.
i just went to Grand Valley State University and Michigan Secretary of State web pages and found information that I needed. i was able to apply on-line to GVSU and figure out what I owed in damn speeding tickets in the state of Michigan ($264 bucks). This shit is so rad sometimes, I almost have an orgasm.
I have to go get ready for class.
I wonder if that cute boy will be there 😉

pussy galore

I had spent a good portion of my night last night making sure this damn thing was redone. I had enjoyed doing the site with more fervor than I had thought possible. I’m in love with my new design and also how it looks overall. Fresh/clean/sparky, I think it reflects me in many ways that other designs haven’t been able to. I believe the information is more up to date and current and isn’t all text based (which it was before). It’s amazing how three graphics, two colors and drop shadow (and a partridge in a pear tree) can make a site look. I still refuse to do heavy graphic intense pages along with javascript/java/midi/blinking intense pages as well. There simply is no need for it.
make a new friend/keep the old
While doing the website last night, I came to the conclusion that I needed to have an archive page. Sure, I’ve been doing TLC for nearly eight months now, longest running span in any format in the four years I’ve been doing this sort of thing. So, I started stockpiling all my old “works” on the archive page and THAT alone took several hours. Why? Well for one, when Slip.Net lost my main website for, I had lost nearly a 1000 files, including the work I had saved while mirroring F.U.C.K.. I have written 10-15 pieces within a years span for them, and then it was all gone. It made me realize that my writings was woefully out of date. I had not updated it since early 1998 as well as have “forgotten” that it existed.
It was as if I was trying to hide something.
So, for nearly two hours, I spent playing hide & seek looking for the lost files and getting them all organized on the archive section. It felt -really really- good to read some of my old things. I still think a bunch of it is crap-o-la, but hey, that’s just me. I plan on updating the year in review: 1997 as well as do one for 1998. It was scary to think just how much of my life is now on the web. With putting up these pieces, I realize and see how much I’ve grown/change as well as the world around me. Enjoy.
our little secret
If you are a fan of techno/industrial/house/dance music (or whatever they are calling it these days), may I suggest that you pick up Lords of Acid’s newest cd Our Little Secret. I had the opportunity to check it out when I was back home in Michigan, and loved it. I haven’t purchased the full length cd as of yet, but I did get their cd-maxi-single of Pussy, which has several re-mixes as well as the song The Power is Mine. I’ve been walking around humming the damn thing for a few days now, so you -really- must pick it up.

amazon bitch queen

I’ve been trying really hard to not be so damn bitchy, but goddamn it! people’s stupidity really gets me. On a mailing list that I am on, the talk turned to polyamory, relationships, men vs women, and some of the comments really irked me. Of course, John only invited me on the list to play devils advocate. Sigh. I really hate that shit. Women tripping all over themselves to be “cool” while the men sit back and laugh. No matter where you go or what you do, the shit just don’t change!
My main loneliness, I would assume, is because I can’t get anyone to understand me. I am haunted by words from friends that keep telling me that I do this and I do that. I used to care about these things, and would take it to heart when people said things to me, but it just is so damn lonely. I feel so Randian. You know, sticking up for my beliefs when no one else will.
But there is a plus side to all of this.
This being that the topics discussed as so wide varied and so full of piss/vinegar, I get a chance to think again. It feels refreshing to be able to think about what I am going to say and really attempt to explain my views. It gives me a chance to do things that I haven’t thought about in eons. Things I’ve wanted to write about and never did. I still have a listing of all the short stories and poems I wanted to complete. I’m strange. I create titles for the projects BEFORE I write them. It’s the only way I can really feel like I have a good handle on what I want to say. So even if I have to make a conscious effort to write about the stuff that I really want to. Commentary on daily life, my style. I’ve always given a different spin on things, because obviously reality is really subjective. 😉

Five months from today…

I will be 27.
101-ROM error
I am surrounded by four computers: Windows 3.11/95/98 and NT 4.0 workstation. I am proficient on all of them. I am frightened by that aspect.
Shit I fucked up. I am building our software using IEAK and I forgot to put in the dialer and the stack. Aww well. Don said “whatever it takes”. So I’m doing “whatever it takes”. Don also thought it was appropriate to give me a Dilbert cartoon from January 10th. Pretty much it’s about Wally bitching to his boss about how the “expected” amount of time it takes to complete a project as well as the “realistic” amount of time it takes to complete a project are two complete different things. This is true. They want this fucking software like three weeks ago, however, since i’m also in charge of end user support/GO! and building out other machines, I’m just curious as to where in my copious free time I am to do this all. Let’s not also forget that twinkletoes also bestows x,y,z things for me to do.
So now I’m killing time waiting for Internet Explorer to install itself on Windows 3.x machine (which is ironically has 16MB of ram on a 486/66 with a 400MB hard drive). So I’ll be here for awhile. While I’m waiting, I’m going to go get lunch. Chinese probably. Where a girl here found a half-cutup cockroach. 😉

beautiful dreamer

so you are all probably wondering if I died or not. Nope. However, the amusing thing is that I literally brought the new year in with a bang with leaving the anal sex story up on my site for nearly a month. 🙂 Well it was funny to an extent. It didn’t dawn on me (like it never does) that i would literally hang out with people after they have read my diaries. Meaning, when having dinner with Esther and friends over the past few days, didn’t dawn on me that her reading my entires would have her think of me any differently. truth is, i would be giggling up a storm if i sat with people that were having problems having anal sex. 🙂 But that is just me.
Hope that everyone had a kicking new years and Christmas. I made out like a bandit this year. Perfume and a sweater from Justin (along with a love note), new handbags from Cathleen. Flowers and money from Dad. Money from mom. Danny took the cake by getting me my belly button repierced, a gift certificate to Barnes and noble, a chocolate orange, and hot tubbing! We had the BEST time in GR. Gads, I want to move back so bad. But everyone thinks I’m on crack. My brother, mother, Sherry and Danny all said that I had to stop smoking the pipe. I would hate it, I was romanticizing it, glamorizing it. The whole nine yards.
Truth is, I probably was. But see, I feel loved in GR. I felt like things had taken a stance. The irony was, that i kept looking around for people I knew, except I didn’t see them anymore. And then I realized, I didn’t care. I had the important people in my life already, so finding some slobs wasn’t really worth it.
But I felt more “me” when i was in GR then when I’m in the bay area. Okay, true, the bay area ain’t got nothing (entertainment wise) on GR. nothing probably does, however, this area does suck unless you are making the fat cash.
plans plans plans.
gotta make the plans 🙂
olive juice
say it really slow.
trust me on this.
Lisa’s old skool sex shop
i’m bored.
today i sat down with danny on icq discussing things. nothing majorly earth shaking, but it was hard having a conversation with him, with Karen at his house and justin flopped on the couch. both were watching the same thing while danny and i talked about everything else. he said “maybe we should hook them up?” jokeningly. i laughed and agreed. justin has been trying to get rid of me for a couple of bucks and a pack of twizzlers, but, so far not even james could come up with the offer.
so we laid down on our bed (justin and i) and attempted to have a long talk. nothing came out of it. since i’ve been back, my sexual drive has dropped to a near zero. i don’t feel enlightened or excited by anything anymore. i’m haunted by the words that sherry said on her trip last year with her then bf bruce. they were having a great time in Florida when it seemed that all bruce wanted to do was have sex. sherry just wanted to go have fun.
but the thing that irked me, was the conversation that danny and i had on the way to the airport. he said something to the tune of “if you were even 1/10th responsive sexually like Karen is, you would NOT be a sexually frustrated woman.” I took that as a major insult and turned my head away. danny didn’t mean anything by it, i’m sure. justin echoed the same thing this evening during our talk. i asked him to spank me, to prove how responsive i am but that didn’t do anything. i felt flabbergasted. me? sexually cold? justin says i need to be more vulnerable around him. he also thinks that the belly button piercing was a bad idea because now i won’t let him touch my tummy. that’s fine. i’m paranoid as it is about having anyone touch my stomach. it’s not rock hard flat, so therefore in my eyes it’s disgusting. i want to be a supermodel. cept i’m too old now. sherry got miffed when i said she was a size 6. she’s actually a size 4.
so to add insult to injury, i now feel like this cold hearted being with no sex drive. lord knows i’ve probably had enough of the stuff to last anyone a lifetime, but i can’t stop thinking about passion or love and mainly with certain people in my life. so when to be told that i’m not sexually responsive or worse yet, that i’m cold and unfeeling, it throws things off the kilter and makes me feel even worse.
>maybe i should just become a lesbian or something.
or maybe just dump justin and live a sexual free life for awhile.
decisions decisions decisions.
basically i’m just mad.
here it is that two people who one hand rate me as being their top lover and then turn around and tell me i suck?
god, why is it always me? not them?
jeff would testify that i was most sexually responsive, but then he would also say i wasn’t vulnerable. so what the fuck?
I’m just angry at something. Maybe I should stop worrying and see a shrink and get my head straightened out. i will be the first to admit that i am having issues with sex right now, but i’m NOT COLD and UNRESPONSIVE.