livin’ la vida loca

so there i was, all snug as a bug in a rug.

with one leg under the covers and the other leg over the covers as it were my style. then all of a sudden i hear:

OAKLAND POLICE! WAKE UP!

what?
I stumble out of bed, justin stumbles off the floor. flashlights shining in our eyes. we flip the bedroom light on, and a female cop is standing right there, wanting to know a few things.

over a week ago, i got the message from Cathleen that Christine was going to be back in town and was showing up that evening. She was driving in from Vegas and her ETA was around 11pm. Cathleen changed the message on the answering machine to reflect this as well as leave her a note — as Christine was going to be staying with us.

Um, okay, thanks for telling me.

So, as the story goes, seems that Christine and her ex-bf/lover/fiancee/whatever have a child together and that they have been sharing custody for the last 8-9 years. It seems that they can’t get along and are always fighting about who gets the child when. Knowing what I know of Christine, this doesn’t surprise me as her life has always been — uh — interesting to say the least.

I come home from work a week ago Monday to show Cat the kittens when we notice that Christine and her daughter are laying down in Cathleen’s room. Seems that Christines car died and she and the kid were going to be camping at our place for awhile.

I luv it when people ask me for my opinion on such matters.

i get insta-grouchy because i hate people intruding on my space. plus i was quitting smoking. plus other people were being grumpy. plus one of my friends got jilted at the alter. it wasn’t a good week.

so Thursday night, i come home from teaching internet 101 and notice that both christine and the kid are gone. justin and i both sighed huge sighs of relief as neither one of us could take it much more. everything seemingly is back to normal — until tonight.

it seems that the ex-lover/fiancee/bf/whatever has been calling here all last week and this week claiming that Christine is here. Cathleen spoke to him several times over the weekend and was yelling at him that Christine was NO LONGER HERE and that he needed to stop calling. It also seems that he’s been doing drive-by’s on our house AND it seems that the cops showed up LAST week as well, cept this time our house was locked up and I was dead to the world sleeping and didn’t know that they were here.

What happened tonight, was this:

Since we were defrosting our fridge, we had ordered out for Chinese. my stomach was feeling funky and justin wasn’t feeling hot either so we were laying down on the couches watching a movie. I get online and talk to cartoon boy for awhile, write a chronicle and then go to bed. Cathleen and Charlie are outside in the backyard and we think nothing about the fact that the back door is wide open.

it’s about 11pm.

at 2am and some change, the cops show up and /walk in/. the back door was wide open, the front security door was unlocked. the ex-lover/bf/fiancee claims to have seen Christine and the child sitting on our front porch no more then 1/2 hour before this. the guy is smoking crack.

so i’m all pissed off at being awaken in the middle of the night. i was having a great dream — damn if i can remember it now.

cops start questioning me about this whole fiasco, which thankfully, i really know nothing about. they ask to search the place, i tell them to go for it. i walk to the front porch and check to see WHY our security door was open. turns out that both justin and i forgot to check the doors when we went to bed — didn’t think to actually because cathleen was in the backyard. it seems that cathleen and Charlie had taken off sometime earlier.

as i lock the front security door, the ex-fiancee/lover/bf is standing on my front porch. i’m fucking pissed off. i start running off at the mouth and rip him a new asshole. i slam the door and walk back into our dining/computer room. i go and find my glasses. cops come back in after tromping around outside. they found the pot plant (singular not plural) that my idiot roommates are trying to grow in our backyard. They threaten me with possession. I laugh and say whatever, it’s not mine — it’s circumstantial evidence. I’m mouthing off to the cops. Cops tell me to calm down. Justin is telling me to shut the fuck up before my ass gets hauled into jail. i try to clam down. justin is shooting me looks to tell me to keep quiet. i calm down. i cooperate with the cops. i tell them what i know and that they need to talk to Cathleen cos she’s the one whose friends with Christine, not me.

The cop asks me if i have any kids or it was “you obviously do not have any kids” and I said “no, but I have three roommates — that’s enough” and she’s trying to get me to understand the fathers side of the story. And i’m like “look — the point here is that it’s between him and her. and now he’s calling MY house at all hours, picking fights with our other roommate and doing goddamn drive-bys. it’s annoying and it’s unnecessary. he was told all last week that she wasn’t here (mostly true) and he’s freaking lying about her being here tonight because she wasn’t.” so the female cop and i go round and round about this and she takes my name and our phone number and leaves. as i escort her out the door, she says something about “well, as for the marijuana plant, i don’t care — personally i think it should be legal.” like she’s doing me a favor! IT WAS NOT MINE! I DONT SMOKE THE DAMN SHIT! gash.

so, then guess who shows up but Cathleen and Charlie.

Justin and I go to the store to get milk since I’m making cawfee. Come back and the cops are interrogating my other roommies now. Justin tries making light of the situation but i’m repulsed by the white trashiness of it all — especially with how our house looks at that moment. I mean, jesus christ, who would think I would wake up with OPD in my fucking bedroom?

cops leave and cathleen saunters in drunk. she wants to talk about it – she’s been crying. i’m too angry to talk about it. i tell her i’ll talk to her in the morning. we end up talking about it. i tell her i don’t want christine or her problems back at the house. it seems that for the last year we always end up getting in the middle of something. cathleen agrees. i knwo she’s her friend and I feel bad, but SHIT! When cops start entering my life – it’s a whole different manner.

So, here I am, several hours later and nearly two pots of cawfee down my throat. I didn’t think about having a cig with this whole fiasco going on — really. but i do realize that normally i would be sitting here chain smoking when i’m sitting here chomping on gum.

and my stomach still aches — but that is okay.


Other than the whole quitting smoking thing (it’s day 7 now — go me), this whole damn week has been weird.

Cartoon boy and I got into a little tiff as the time gets closer for me to go to Memphis. This pissed me off. I felt like he was having issues and I also felt like I was being punished because I liked him. because I do. I like him like him. I think he’s really keen. And he thought i was coming there to rock his world — i already know that i rock his world! I don’t need to go to Memphis to prove that!:P

I told him a 100 thousand times that i don’t expect anything — however that does not mean that i’m going to reject the idea of us getting together romantically — but I can’t think that far ahead. I DONT EVEN KNOW WHERE I’M GOING TO BE IN TWO MONTHS! he doesn’t want a girlfriend — it’s like we were both screaming about what we don’t want and neither one of us were really listening to the other. so i get all pissed off and moped around the house, pacing for a cigarette. but we made up and decided to let it go — which means that we ain’t talking about it and whatever happens happens. but i won’t be punished for liking him nor will i be punished because he likes me — that ain’t happening. it dawns on me that i feel like i’m breaking some sort of silence here — meaning that by not talking bout it, it doesn’t exist. but damnit, it’s bugging me. and if he’s gonna get angry at me for that, then fuck ’em. i stood up to OPD, i’m not letting some wussy cartoonist intimidate me. 😛 but we made up and now i’m going to Memphis — so whatever happens happens — i can’t think that far ahead — i don’t want to.

see the thing about cartoon boy and i is that there is no like /set groundwork/ for what we are. at the very least we are friends — very good friends. we’ve been orbiting each other for nearly two months now. you cannot be a part of someone’s life as intensely as we have been without feeling /something/. i mean, we both have been gushing over the other via our webpages. the whole world has been watching our relationship blossom. it’s weird. it’s not private nor is it intimate. i realize that bugs me a bit. he keeps threatening to leave his cam on the whole time i’m there. i’ll sock him if he does, but i know he’s only teasing me.

anyway, for once i can’t control the situation and i can’t predict what’s going to happen — and honestly , i like it like that. and i personally think it’s damn silly that we were arguing about it (to be honest — that’s the only thing we argue about when we have argued). and i think that by doing so, we are already adding unnecessary pressure. i think we will honestly be fine. he always plays the devils advocate and i play the optimist.

“i’m not a gambling man lisa — i always lose.”

“stick with me kid, i always win.”


and then! i get the news that one of my best friends was going to marry a guy (out of the blue) that she has been seeing on and off for nearly nine years. but see — he’s an ex-con, drug addict and he’s beaten her up more than once. he semi-kidnapped her son and took her car and had me worrying to bits about her because of this. she then tells me that he didn’t show up for the wedding and when she does end up talking to him again, finds out he’s got the preliminary paperwork for marrying ANOTHER GIRL (whose in jail right now for felionous assault)!!! I mean, hello here!! lets look at the big picture shall we? He’s beaten my friend up, he’s stolen money from her — and she keeps telling me she’s in love with him! Argh!! and now she’s telling me that she’s asked him to move in with her!?!? I told her if that were so — then i’m making NO PLANS to move in with her — I don’t want that crap in my life. Let’s use tonight as an example shall we.

I told her I loved her (I do) and I worry about her — but it’s her life. She knows how I feel about this whole thing. But i wash my whole hands of the matter. and she knows that i’ll always be there for her — just — not when he’s around, I won’t do it. I refuse to.

I utterly realize that the two above people will be pissed of (rightly so I’m thinking) that i’m discussing this so publicly but you know what? I don’t care. It’s a part of my life. deal with it.

so now it’s 5am and i find that i want to laugh because it all seems so absurd. i always joke about how i love melodrama but i’m getting pretty convinced that someone up there doesn’t like me.

For instance, I’ve applied to five schools: UofMemphis, Western Michigan U, Michigan State, Old Dominion U, UofGeorgia Athens.

Western has already accepted me.

Michigan State and UofGeorgia Athens did not due to that my application was not in on time.

Old Dominion won’t return my fucking phone calls.

UofMemphis claims it needs my HIGH SCHOOL TRANSCRIPTS before processing my application. Uh — okay. When I asked “why”, find out that since I have less than 60 credits that they need to find out what classes I took in high school. I was like “Jesus christ, I went to TWO high schools in TWO countries and also took my GED.” Then I had to fight with them on THAT and research Michigan Department of Education on where to have my GED scores sent to them. Yesh, theoretically I never “graduated from high school”. I got a lot of shit from my parents and my brother who loves teasing me about the fact that I never “finished” high school. My mother loves rubbing it in, the fucking bitch. If you want to lose me as a friend, you start bringing this up. I will, never ever, talk to you again. My IQ is 145 and i scored something like 1300 on my SAT’s and scored in the top 3-5% on my GED. I don’t need to prove my intelligence to ANYONE. thank you please drive through.

Suddenly I’m feeling very defensive and shtuff.

I don’t want to today — I’m feeling overall pretty good despite everything. So, I think I’ll leave this at that then.

An Announcement
For the last couple of weeks I’ve been writing about my experiences on finding other journals on the web. And to my surprise, I’m finding that I’m more popular than I thought. Which kind of surprises me. Well, wait, I’m an egotistical bitch — I know I rock.

But anyway! One thing I’ve been noticing is that there is a few web sites that have been doing a new “entry” everyday in some sort of genre. bittersweets.org specializes in love lost. ember.org specializes in falling in love or first time love. kvetch.com specializes in complaining.

so i was thinking about how i had a domain that wasn’t being utilized and i realize that it would be neat to have a new entry, if you will, everyday of a quip of someone’s life. real or made up, it did not matter, but i thought it could encompass everything. there are no plots, guidelines or characters. all you need is an immagination.

On saturday I launched TrippingOnStars. Every day, a new quip will be put up showcasing a peek into someone’s life — real and imaginary. Go check it out and let me know what you think.

and so..
now it’s later and i have already driven Justin to BART (cos he’s too lazy to walk). justin had gone back to bed after the cops had left and woke up humming the song “Bad Boys” from “Cops” — and telling me that if I would have kept running my mouth I would have ended up being someone’s bitch in jail. heh. i can see it now. that would have been funny.

i’ve also decided, after two pots of cawfee, that i’m in a pretty good mood today. cheerful. hyper. excited about finally going to the doctors. if your in a grumpy mood — please don’t come talk to me. i don’t want you to rain on my parade.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x,
moi

swf iso swm who is tall and funny but never grumpy

i love reading personal ads.

i was going to say that “i don’t know what it is about them” but i do know: i love reading about other peoples desperation and loneliness. makes me feel like i’m not as f00ked in the head as i sometimes think i am.

back in the day, a very close friend of mine and i were doing “alternate” personalities via Yahoo! ads. he put an ad up and i replied as “something else other than lisa”. it was shits and giggles and we had fun doing it. basically we would get as blunt as possible to see if anyone would reply to our ad. they never would though, it was just kinda amusing for our sake.

the thing that tripped me out the most was the fact that i pulled up the “m4w” section looking for “everything” in Yahoo! Grand Rapids Metro (haha — yeah right) — and nearly 1000 ads came up. 1000. ads. I was like “jesus christ — what’s going on here?” and so i went reading the ads to see what WAS up — and as I suspected:

  1. Most men were married or in some sort of relationship already looking for a “discreet” sex partner. Wifes approval not necessary.
  2.  Some were quite blunt in listing just sexual interests.
  3. Others were looking for “activity” partners — which reading between the lines followed up with #2.
  4. Those who /were/ looking for love, seemingly were quite desperate about it “i’m a shot balding CCR, divorced 2x with 4 kids.” It scared me.

I think that the thing that gets me is that we can learn so much about our society as a whole from reading our personal ads. yeah true, there is no better way really to meet someone of like interests, but they are all these dyed in the whole, hypocrites. i mean, why the fuck get married if you are going to be cheating on her? why stay in a relationship if you ain’t getting all your needs met? I don’t understand this.

maybe it’s not really about the personal ads per se, but that whole “religious true republican” facade i grew up with while living in Grand Rapids. Personally, I don’t see anything wrong with personal ads. When I first moved to SF, I placed an ad in one of the local on-line newspapers — i wanted to meet people for pete’s sake. what i got was actually a bunch of bmw driving, cell phone carrying, wine drinking, coding freaks. i dunno. my roommates and i went on a calling spree one night and met up with some guys off of one of the ads (all of us later lucked out) — but it seems to me that for the most part, these ads never really convey the whole person. I mean, yeah it’s great that your this that and then some, but how can you discrene who really is for you by a few lines of text?

i really am beginning to hate 2-dimensional relationships. jaffo keeps kicking me in the ass and telling me to find a real man around here. i think he keeps forgetting that i live in SF — there are no real men — just a lot of faggots (i’m a fag hag, I CAN say that word).

besides.

i have a date coming up next week.

gots to look my best!

tomorrow i go to the doctor.

for the last month i haven’t been feeling too swift. i thought i was pregnant: two tests and my period proved me wrong. my stomach feels like someone shoved a air condenser up me and pumped away. it hurts. i can’t eat. i’m tired of none of my fucking clothes fitting.

basically, i’m feeling grumpy.

i dun wanna be grumpy. i have a tall southern boy i need to wrap around my finger in a little over a week.

i’ll let you all know how the doctor appointment went.

it’s probably just stress.

x0x0x0x0x0x,
moi

simon templar

can someone please tell me about my own preoccupation with the stupid movie the saint?

i don’t know how many times i’ve seen this piece of drek but when it’s on, i /always/ watch it. maybe it’s the gadgets? the neat toys and geeky stuff. maybe it the science that got me interested in cold fusion? maybe it was magic and adventure — all girls want some sort of an adventure in their life.

whatever the reason (and it’s certainly not the fact i /like/ the movie), i watched it again this morning. hehe.

i’ve really been giggling a lot these past few days and i don’t know why. i am seemingly becoming too freaking cheerful for my own good. i am annoying my own damn self.

yesterday I read on maura.com that she hates people who sign with their middle initial. amused i emailed back and said i hated people who sign with two last names. i’m one of those people who sign with the middle initial. maybe it’s because with the intervention of the interweb that i’ve found /other/ lisa rabeys.

i just want to stand out.

i’m becoming disillusioned with journalling recently.

for the last week, i’ve spent an inordinate amount of time doing personal surfing and found that there is this echelon of people who are ‘k-rad’ and ‘ereet’ in doing personal journals. it’s like this big circle of people. i became angry. i felt like i was in high school all over again.

i /hated/ high school, lemme tell you. but i was also depressed, shy and NOT getting along with my parents. I don’t think it’s so much part of the kids hating me anymore but i do think that my own shyness and depression helped fuel whatever paranoia i had about people not liking me.

so i started checking out these damn journals and the following rang true:

  • They all looked like they were designed by the same person(s).
  • They all have nearly the exact same content.
  • They all link to each other.
  • Sometimes, even the entries are the same.

I mean, jesus christ, it’s like they have this template that gets passed out to everyone — to be “cool” you must do THIS. i found it highly amusing.

i found it flattering that i was linked from some of the pages — but truth be known, i don’ read other peoples journals. i also do not read my own. once it’s written, that’s it, its done. i found that you begin to get feelings for people you’ve never talked to and that is just way too intimate for me. i’ve “fallen in love” with people briefly over journals and it’s too much.


“You know, the people here, all they wanna do is pick you apart. trouble is: they don’t have time to put you back together again.

“i hate the internet.

“i’ve thought about moving my webpages to Europe, Michigan, Virginia or hell, maybe even Tennessee.”


and here is other stuff that bugs me, this whole “If you know me in real life, please don’t read this” or the whole “private vs public” diaries. I mean, christ! get over yourself – if you are really that insecure or paranoid than what the fuck are you doing on Internet? I mean, it’s like at work, I got into this argument with the guy who manages our NOC. He was having a tizzy about our new email naming scheme is firstname.lastnamd@company.com, and he said that scheme was a security hole because SOMEONE could get his personal information from that naming scheme and pretend to be him on the internet. Uh, I laughed. hehe. Really. I emailed back and said that:

a. if you are that paranoid about security, then stop using your firstname and lastname in your email address such as so:
Lisa Rabey (lisa@simunye.org). I mean, this is no different than firstname.lastname@company.com.

b. secondly, uh, hehe, anyone can impersonate anyone on the internet. ITS NOT THAT HARD. the new naming scheme doesn’t provide extra security or lack of security. i mean christ, get over it. hehe.

but anyway, hehe, okay damnit lisa stop giggling.

i quit smoking and i sleep better and my personality over the last few days save for the torturous first few days has been giggly. hehe. ARGH! god! and it wouldn’t be any less annoying cept i’m sitting here /really/ giggling.

smoke free for FIVE days.

I better get some mother fucking props here people.

anyway, so i was commenting about this elitism on the web to someone and its like, to me, the one reason why i love the interweb so much is that it gave me the expression and the means to be myself and i’m finding that people are slipping into being something they aren’t, in order to be cool, by following the appropriate trends.

lemme be the molly ringwalds then of journalling, because i am:
loud, obnoxious, smart, aggressive, cute, i talk a lot, i’m tall, i’m pierced. if you know me, you HAVE to get the point that i may or may not put something up here about you. if you ASK me not to mention you, for whatever reason, that’s fine, just DONT tell me. it’ll piss me off. you have to get the point that i’ve spent incredible amount of time documenting my life and feelings and i’m not changing this for no one. if you don’t like what you read here, i’m sorry, that’s too damn bad. it’s “my” life and “my” perception of it. I will never do a private or password protected journal, i mean that’s just plain wrong!

this is me, take it or leave it.

oh yeah, and i also hate this whole like surrealistic look that journals are getting these days. i mean, okay yeah this is the interweb where everything is surreal but see, to me, maybe i’m crazy, but it’s also very real. it’s given the opportunity to say things i would have never said before or even given me the courage to do the things i didn’t think i would ever do. i think that by saying “well, don’t take me seriously” or “well, i don’t want people to know or read this” THEN GET YOUR DAMN ASS OF THE INTERNET! i’m serious. it should be all about freedom baby and expression, not about restriction.

now if you’ll excuse me, the sun is calling my pasty supple ass out to be outside.

x0x0x0x0x,
moi