I’ve been up for the last few hours, having gone to bed early last night (on a Friday night, i know, I’m silly) preparing for tonight. We have invited nearly 30 people over to our “housewarming” party in which I can hope to get drunk, make mad passes at paul and then conk out sometime around 4am with a bottle of vodka in my hand.
the prep work for the party hasn’t been that hard. as usual, since we do not drink beer, i did specifically say that if you want to drink beer, to bring your own however that paul and i would be serving liquor to anyone who wants it. Brendan and Sam are driving down from joisy today to come see us (and meet me since brendan and paul used to live together) and I’ve invited most of the people we felt close to in the local area.
paul and i must both say we’ve been pretty disgruntled since coming to NoVa, while we’ve made some good friends, he has intoned on several occasions that the whole project of novageeks has failed. why? simply because we have over 50 people subscribed to the mailing list and it seems that the only time we ever do anything with any of the participants is when paul/I plan said outing. Whether it’s going to DC to see things, throw a party or going bowling, it’s seems that geeks will only do something if someone else initiates it.
Paul (and myself unfortunately) have gotten very frustrated with this as we’ve thrown dinners for major holidays (Easter and Thanksgiving), spent probably close to thousands on drink and food with nary a return or a thanks on the whole. which, you know, is very rude.
paul was pretty adamant that we were NOT going to throw a housewarming party. which is fine, but it had been so long since we’ve thrown any sort of party and it’s been so long since I’ve been TO a party, that i said fuck it, and decided to throw together one.
the irony is how many people are coming as compared to previously as well as to how many people are looking forward to it. Our apartment is more spacious now that we can have more people sitting comfortably (however, i had to intone several times about us having dogs and the simple fact that they shed. this however, did not seem to deter anyone from wanting to come) and having a good time.
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lisa
Month: March 2001
for each other
my latest session with Dr. B. covered two main things — sex and food. Two of my obsessions, both of which currently have been pushed down into the void of my stomach. literally.
when i was younger (13/14/15), i was very very very insistent that i would not lose my virginity. my own curiosity about sex and the actual act lead me to believe that i would eventually become a nymphomaniac. I’m not kidding. as time went on, and i did eventually have sex, it was not under the best circumstances and it wasn’t until i was a tad bit older and had started dating Alan had i realized what making love was all about.
in the years that have followed, sex has become both the curse and the gift that i have carried [this is not meant to sound pompous — it just is]. i gave myself physically to everyone i slept with, thus making it seem like i was the best lay around, but on the other hand, i was emotionally absent and distant from my lovers and sometimes deriving no pleasure from the act or the foreplay or anything sexual that surrounded me.
there was a time when things such as mens magazines (hard and soft core porn magazines, etc), toys, “erotic” movies and what not would lead me unto temptation with my current lover. i was aggressive, i was demanding and i started getting to the point where sex with my boyfriend usually had to be rough and with me usually NOT facing him in any position. i preferred doggy style or some other ‘humiliating’ position in order to even feel remotely turned on.
as i started getting older and started becoming more aware of who i was, sex was the gift i gave and used to tantalize men while i withheld it on some levels from myself. in my whole entire life, i have only orgasmed less than 1/2 dozen times with a partner and there has only been one person whom i have been able to masturbate me and orgasming with them masturbating me.
exotic and erotic love making has always been my forte. i saw nothing (and still do not) with being a bit rough.
‘rough sex’ is one of the reasons why paul and i got along so well when we first started dating — and it remains one of things we giggle about into the night. but after the first six months of mad passionate monkey love — it came to an almost abrupt stop.
in a lot of ways, it coincided with the death of my father and as the summer of 2000 wore on and the anxiety became worse — the last thing i wanted to think or feel or do was have sex.
within my discussion with Dr B, we talked about how food and men and sex and everything else always wraps up to some of the same ideas — ie, about how i eat to be fat because i don’t want men to be with me, how i hate the way i look because I’m fat and how i don’t feel sexy enough because I’m fat and so on and so on, with the same circular argument happening … and it’s been going on for years.
Dr. B. suggested that paul and i read For Each Other, a book that helps explore sexual intimacy between couples. She also suggested that I read the companion book for females For Yourselfwhich explores sexual intimacy within yourself. I bought For Each Other and started reading it in the tub, skipping over all the main stuff thinking “hell, this doesn’t apply to me” — and paul came up to me and said “You do that all the time. You get something and you start in the middle thinking it doesn’t apply to you when it DOES apply to you” — which is true. It’s like anything I do, I start in the middle, thinking it doesn’t apply to me — when it does in fact apply to me and I don’t want to admit it.
Paul and I settled down that night and started reading and started practicing the exercises in the book.
I’ll let you know how it works out.
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lisa
new digs!
if paul and i extol the virtues of our apartment any longer, someone would think we were being paid to do so.
the big move day was 3.15.01, where we both woke up at 5:30, to drop the dogs off at the new apartment (so they wouldn’t drive the movers nuts whilst loading and unloading) and to drop paul off at work. That’s right, you heard me correctly. That mother fucker had a very important meeting the day that we moved and I ended up directing traffic for it all day. Which, ironically, wasn’t as bad as I make it out to be. With my dominate nature and how much of a control freak I am, paul would have just been in the way. Regardless, the fact he had to work is enough for me to extract punishment from him. 🙂 Just kidding. Really. I am just kidding. Maybe.
The move really went off without a hitch, really. We had packed most of the house the previous days and basically all I had to pack was the kitchen and the bathroom. The movers carted all 30+ boxes (half of them books…) down three flights and were not looking happy to realise that they had to cart all 30+ boxes back up four flights (including what scant furniture we have). The movers were at the old place at 9:55am and were gone from the new place at 3:00pm. By the time paul got home, I had started unpacking most of our stuff (leaving the computer/office room and the kitchen for him) and I was lying on one of the futons watching teevee trying to keep my eyes open.
here is the floor plan to our apartment. nearly 1400sq feet and in person, the apartment is HUGE. You might be wondering why we needed a three bedroom? Good question — typical couples get one maybe two bedrooms. However, since paul’s sister was planning on living with us before we got this apartment, we had to find one that handled large dogs (she has a 50lb boxer) — and this place was perfect. Like Penderbrook, I did all the leasing information over the phone before I even saw the place — we were getting desperate looking for apartments that handled large animals and had the space we needed. When paul’s sister “changed her mind” (ie: flaked on us), we took the apartment any ways, with the option of having a guest bedroom/sitting room for me.
I took Wednesday till today off to deal with the move and get the dogs in order. Every night paul and I have been taking baths together in the “garden tubs” and we are both amazed our fat asses can fit into one 😉 I’ve been walking around on the ubersoft carpet in this daze that I can’t believe this is *my* apartment and *I* live here. With the furniture (or what little we have) spread out, I can see several buying trips to Ikea coming up in the near future. The bedroom is “technically” smaller than the one at Penderbrook, however, once we got the bed and dresser moved in, we noticed there is enough room for another dresser against one of the walls if we choose, a teevee stand and a chair/love seat. We are figuring Penderbrook shortchanged the rooms somehow because with the same bed, dresser, teevee stand we have now, we could not have fit the additional pieces of furniture in there AND have room left over. The walk-in closet is large enough to fit a twin size bed in there and the bathrooms are wonderful. The kitchen is large enough that we can have both the dishwasher door and the oven door pulled down without hitting each other. The dogs have plenty of space to roam and play and everything is just wonderful all around.
Don’t I sound like a goddamn advertisement for this company?
But it’s true (it’s true!).
There have been a few problems since we moved in here, nothing that couldn’t be fixed and for the most part, OakWood has been very gracious about getting some of the items attended to. I found out from one of the maintenance guys that our apartment was never on the “daily clean list” the day before we moved in — which is funny since they knew we were moving in a month ahead of time. But they are fixing everything in a more timely manner and there is people on staff 24/7. Hell, I’ve been so motivated by the move and just starting to realise how a new apartment makes one feel better, I’ve been thinking about starting to work out again. But as always, I let the thought keep wandering.
Sometime between Thursday and Friday, I pulled a muscle in my back and i was calling (in pain) to our chiropractor to have him put me back in shape. As Friday wore on, the pain got worse where I couldn’t even get in/out of my car without difficulty. When I got home from running errands Friday afternoon, paul attempted to “put me in my place” which resulted in me screaming like a little girly-man cos it hurt so goddamn bad. I couldn’t move to my right or bend to my left without screaming bloody murder. But, on Saturday morning when I woke up, I realized the pain was gone with no trace or after shocks, if you will. It was, very odd.
One of the great things about moving (even though there are just a few it seems) is how much you discover about yourself and how much crap you find that you forgot you had. I found my partial collection to strangers in paradise, the comic for the non-comic reader, that i had forgotten I had. I have not read any of the current books since issue 13 (and they are now up to issue 38 — shit) and sitting in the “sitting room” floor reading the comics made me realise how much I’ve missed Katchoo and Francine. I started digging around and found that amazon.com carries all the trade paperbacks for them up to the latest one and I’m thinking about subscribing to have SIP delivered directly to my door. If you haven’t read SIP, I would highly recommend you do so. NOW I SAY, NOW GO BUY IT. ahem.
I’ve also discovered I’m a bigger fan of Anne Rice novels than I care to admit. I have almost all of her work in paperback and hardcover and that alone frightens me. But she amuses me and I like being amused.
Speaking of books, TLC BookClub seems to have fallen to the wayside — it hasn’t helped that my own mind is on other matters.
I’ve also got to stop buying these books written by brits — akin to “Bridget Jones’ Diary”. I keep purchasing these books (without intention really) that tend to be all based in London and written from the female perspective and it’s always about these whiny bitches who have issues. or something. The horrid part is that since I’ve been rating my books on amazon.com, they’ve been suggesting other related authors. ARGH! It’s madness i tell you, madness.
I have more to say, but it’s 1am in the morning, I have to work tomorrow and geekbox is down so who knows when you’ll be getting this.
Go buy me something. My wish list is getting too goddamn long .
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Lisa
go braves!
The picture to your left is that of my brother (#5) after tonight’s pounding on Illinois State, 73-66.
the braves have had a long hard road in the past few months and I’ve been eagerly listening to their games via wmbd radio that has been broadcasting their games live every night. tonight was the only game I’ve sorta missed since we started listening since i had forgotten the game was starting at 5pm EST and not the usual 7-8pm EST.
But we caught the last four minutes of the game and I wooped loudly when i heard that they won. My own brother contributed 12-points, four blocks and seven rebounds. Jeff also has 76 blocks for the single season games, beating the old record at Bradley of 72.
Tomorrow night the braves go up against Indiana U. and will be broadcast on ESPN at 9pm EST.
I also emailed ESPN to correct them of their “error” that they show that my brother did not play tonight — he so did 😉
Congratulations jeff!
Links:
Bradley U.
Braves Mens Basketball
Braves Standings @ ESPN
Jeff’s standings via ESPN
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lisa
dear old mom
earlier this evening, after speaking to my mom for about a half an hour, i hit the “end” button on my cell with a heavy heart. this has become a common occurrence when speaking to her as of late.
>it seems that earlier this week, when she was visiting my brother in Peoria for his basketball game, she had awoken up the morning after the game with a burst blood vessel in her eye. This was due, i find out from her, to her diabetes and this was not the first time this has occurred. When she arrived home back to grand rapids, she had emergency laser surgery done on her eye to repair the damage.
it was then she dropped the ball to me that she had wanted to up our plans and move in with us this year.
paul and i had talked about this previously prior to the bombshell this evening, and while i accept my mother is getting old and sick with her diabetes, i don’t know if i can accept the responsibility of her issues. i know, that the guilt deep down inside of me is pushing to do this out of fear and out of the fact that it feels like (to me) i neglected my father during his last few years on this earth. i know i know, everyone says it is not my fault and things work out the way they are, but i feel that the longer i fight to save my mother from herself and from killing herself (she was on suicide watch mid-last year), i find myself sitting in my car alone going, “I’m too fucking young to handle this”.
please don’t get me wrong, i love my mother. and i will admit that my fathers death was a blessing in disguise as we have been working on being close as a mother/daughter for the first time in years, i feel like i can’t breathe and i feel like I’m being suffocated every time something close to commitment of anything comes on. it doesn’t matter if it’s taking care of her, or paul or the goddamn dogs, i just want to break free and be alone.
on Friday afternoon, i drove to my shrink’s office with a heavy heart. after my conversation with Dr. B the previous week, i have been more silent than usual. not silent in writing but silent in communicating verbally to those around me. she and i had talked about this all the previous week about how when I’m asked what is ‘wrong’ i say nothing. the perfect example is when i walked into her office that afternoon and she and i sat there doing the “stare” for a good five minutes before i opened my mouth.
in all honesty, when I’m talking to her or to paul, or hell to anyone that cares, when asked what is wrong i always say ‘nothing’ because it is true — there is nothing wrong. my mind is often blank (so i think) and i just stare off into outer space. this has become more apparent as of late and those around me say they want to know what’s up and why I’m not communicating with them.
i don’t have an answer and i don’t have one major issue that if i talk about it, it suddenly becomes this catharsis of “wow, don’t i feel just fucking better”. it just simply, to me, isn’t that easy to discuss.
i had said to paul in many ways i was angry at my shrink for talking about things in the past — because it brought them up to light and it was issues i didn’t want to revel. things that are in the past and better left unsaid. however, my own behavior in the last year or two has shown that keeping it down deep inside is not the best solution, no matter how much i try and say it is. i often tout that I’ve worked past all those previous issues when I know i haven’t. it’s like, as paul pointed out, there are two me’s. the one that is angry and the one that is calm.
this got further discussed between Dr. B and I as I had told her that the words “hurt” “kill” and “stab” often pepper my vocabulary more often than I like. When I don’t like something or feel intimated, i often say “I’ll hurt you” and most particularly to paul “I’ll stab you”. I’ve often had thoughts of hurting people when I was angry and in the past I used to hurt myself. I remember when I was a child I used to sit there with needle and thread and only going through the first few layers of my skin, sew my hands together. I used to pull out big chunks of my hair (often from behind my ears where it wasn’t noticeable) by twisting and pulling. Dr. B. said I sound like a bully and she was right. But why was I acting like a bully?
In my younger years, I was often intimidated by those physically and mentally stronger than me (so i thought). I wanted to be liked so bad that hell, when I lost my virginity, it was due to peer pressure and not due to the fact that i had actually wanted to fuck that guy. Of course, years of beating myself up over it coupled with what I truly wanted were used to punish myself for what i had done.
Dr. B. says that having a vivid imagination or fantasy life is sometimes very healthy. If you do not act out in that fantasy life (you know, like i wouldn’t really stab paul even though I keep using it as a line of defense) it can help deal with anger. Many people say there is a fine line between fantasy and reality — and while often I feel that I often cross that path, acting it out inside my head is often a good release for whatever I’m feeling.
i never understood people who are ashamed or afraid to admit hey are seeing a shrink or are on drugs of any sort to make their lives easier. I have not qualms about facing reality and knowing that i have “issues”.
definitely something to think about.
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lisa