almost famous

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I’ve been wanting for a long time to make my website pda enabled (well, since i found out that waitingforbob.com was pda and Netscape channlized) and i finally figured out how. if you want TLC on your pda, just go here and follow the instructions. Bop me an email if you have any questions.
This weekend was a very slow and lazy weekend — the kind where paul and i did not have guests so we could relax but on the flip side i was so wired from — something (dunno what) that i couldn’t sit still for longer than five minutes at a time. i bounced around from cleaning to organizing to walking the dogs because no one could stay put in the same spot. on the flip side, paul was so bored that he took a three hour nap yesterday afternoon to relieve the boredom.
my mind was whirling at a speed i couldn’t comprehend. i would walk around doing stuff thinking of better and shorter ways to organize and clean. i couldn’t walk in the bathroom without putting towels away and putting towels away meant doing laundry and doing laundry meant i had to clean up the bedroom. so the simple act of putting something away was prolonged by insistence on doing 15 different things at once.
one of my obsessive/compulsive is cleaning and paul calls me the goff martha stewart because i love to clean. I’ve always admired working with my hands and putting things in order so that it is just so. I’m not so anal that there are not mess’s laying around but there is an order to the chaos of our lives and that order is me.
so i cleaned and organized and sorted and did things that i haven’t been able to do in the preceding weeks (paul cooks — we’ll just leave it at that) and finally crashed early later on in the after noon.
it all started when i was sitting on irc and someone brought up the infamous sexchart of which I am listed (just do a find for simunye — you’ll find me). Which made me REALLY FUCKING ANGRY! I sat there snapping to people on irc about something that happened to me only four years ago and yet feels like a lifetime ago.
Some of it came out in the open in the news two years ago when I sang to the major papers (and never following up on my chances for writing for wired — second time in my life I’ve blown a major opportunity like this) about my relationship with se7en which seems like a nightmare and a life time many times removed from now.
the anger subsided later on in the night when paul and i had hit the local barnes and noble and i got a tall raspberry mocha frap (i am a trend setter — starfucks is now selling a ‘raspberry mocha chip’ frap in their stores. i don’t drink that swill — just mocha frap with raspberry syrup for me thanks).
but i couldn’t place my finger on what was making me so angry — so much has changed in the last four years since i moved to san francisco (almost four years to the day) and since when i left for Virginia. i sat there in the car just staring into space trying to think why i was so pissed, and not one goddamn reason was coming up. maybe because it was with my relationship with christian where i had laid all my eggs in one basket and they got scrambled or the thinking that my relief of finding someone like me wasn’t even close to being true. maybe it was the lies, the cheating and how i had fucked him in the summer of 97 when he was cheating on me with someone who he cheated on with me in Vegas. I still remember the look on his face when he told me he was breaking up with me — or the look on my face when i was jumping around for joy in my brain. I remember sitting in the bathroom at 4am in the morning writing in my journal about how much i hated laying next to him when i had no where else to go. I hated feeling weak and insecure and unloved.
with the help of Dr. B (indirectly I’ll add), I’ve been making a timeline in my head of where everything fell apart — and it was always with the men (which, one shrink had pointed out so wisely to me many years ago). With each passing relationship, where i had thrown myself into thinking i was in love with them, and getting trampled on only to have hurt the ones who have really loved me (danny, justin, and now paul). I think about this a lot – that the new spanking apartment in Herndon is still the crappy old apartment in El Cerrito, CA because in my head while the things around me have changed significantly, what is in my head has not. I still feel trapped and scared and unwilling to deal with what is truly bothering me than dealing with the present. and the past. and the future.
haven’t you ever just wanted to say “enough is enough” – but I’ve been screaming enough is enough for a long time now and I’m not getting any response back. i feel like the little boy who cried wolf — that simply (and honestly) no one believes me. it makes me smile saying that because in my youth — and to me my youth was in my early 20s, i always thought that the man i was with ‘right now’ was the one who was ‘forever’ — instead of just saying ‘he is mr right now’. but i was young and foolish and what did i know from any better on anything at that time other than i just wanted, simply and honestly, to be loved.
i wish someone had explained to me long time ago how to be more rational instead of being pigheaded and stubborn. i look at paul and i know deep in my heart we are meant to be together but from somewhere within I’m not allowing it to happen. to be relaxed and to watch him and love him. it was so easy a few years ago when he was 3000 miles away and like everyone before him, i have him and i don’t know what to do with him.
everyone wants me to talk, because i never say anything about me anymore anywhere i just agree and ask questions and forget what i asked. i want to learn about the people around me but forget when they tell me things because somewhere, unconsciously, perhaps i don’t care. or perhaps i care too much? it doesn’t hurt anymore thinking about it — i suppose the Effexor is good for one thing is stabilizing my emotions but for the last two years, i haven’t had that many emotions to deal with. i worry about the people who loved me I’ve left behind and about not being a good enough employee, girlfriend, daughter, sister daughter or lover.
i remember the ages of my youth falling with a twinkle in my eye and I’m watching paul going through what i went through less than a decade ago. i remember thinking i was never ever going to put myself in the position to be in a relationship with someone unless i was truly passionate about them and i remember what it was like being passionate and feeling i was in love with paul and knowing even know that i am but feel dead inside for no real discerning reason. sometimes i would think i would give up some things in my life only to feel alive like i did when i was younger and more naive because the i had not learned or handed myself to the ways i was now.
even then when i hated myself for being so impassioned i would look at this new self even more and shudder thinking what it was like to become her and how did she end up like this? i wish there was a way to chip the ice off of my heart so i can feel the love i feel for paul instead of looking at him sometimes waiting for him to leave like everyone else did before or lie or cheat or say something to make me wish i was noting more than a mattress with a hole in it. i wish i could feel the rage and the passion and the ups and the down of life instead of feeling like I’m drifting off into no mans land, on an ice cube in the Arctic.
i think you get my point.
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lisa

things i never knew i needed

Sam and i were talking the other day about home- based shit, when i started bitching about how the sheets from Ikea suck major ass, but because they were the exact shade red i wanted, i wasn’t going to give them up. You see, when she and I had gone Ikea shopping a few weeks back, i had purchased a brand new duvet, comforter and sheets in dark blue plaid with the sheets being red. The sheets, designed for queen sized bed which by the way I do have, have. not. stayed. on. one. single. night.
i dunno how hard it is to make sheets that fit, but i was unwilling to change them for something that didn’t match and was dealing with waking up laying on the bare mattress every morning. Sam, the smart girl that she is, pointed out that they have this thing at Bed,Bath and Beyond that keeps sheets in place. BUT wait, there is more! Not only did i get the sheet snugs, but i also ordered the comforter clips AND the bedskirt pins.
My life is now truly complete.
I had no idea that i was missing these great inventions until Sam pointed them out and i rushed right to the online stores to buy them. So imagine to my even great surprise when I get home today to find out that all my goodies had arrived.
And this is how i spent my Friday night — screwing in bedskirt screws and wrestling with the bed snugs to make sure those cheap ass Ikea sheets stay put.
Being domesticated kills me.
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1927 – 2000

Edison Keith Rabey
Born May 22, 1927 – Passed Away on April 25, 2000.
I had a long list of things I wanted to say today about my father, how this last year has changed me, how things have been going and how my anxiety had been forced out into the open, but, I would rather think in silence about the last year and what my father means to me then discuss it right now. I just am not ready.
I love you Dad.
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Lisa

getting started

the month of April has whizzed by pretty quickly and for it weren’t the fact that, well i just lost my train of thought, so there is no fact.
Sam and her husband Brendan came down twice this month, sending Sam and I into the flurry of shopping at Ikea, HomeDepot, and shopping for clothes.
Sam and I are nearly the same height (she’s 5’11 and I’m a smidgen taller) and our bodies are shaped very similar. We discovered that we wore nearly the same size and so i gave Sam a pair of jeans that were small on me but fit me fine. I took her shopping and let her enjoy the wonderment of finding clothes that FIT. We stormed HomeDepot at midnight picking up a level, anchors and an electric screwdriver to hang up cd-racks, shelves and anything else we could get our hands on from our nearly thrice spending sprees at Ikea. And thanks to Sam’s great sense of level and physics, my apartment now rocks.
Our first time setting up the cd-racks and picture frames (that she, of course, hand painted out of sheer boredom and discovered that she loved doing it) were off by quite a few inches. We *thought* it looked level, but her husband came in and looked at the wall and started laughing his ass off (as well as paul) because of the crookedness of the racks and frames. We are now the tool-time girls of Northern Virginia.
I love having Sam and Brendan down here as since they are a couple (and Brendan used to live with Paul many moons ago) and we all get along (there were days way back when when we all did’ not get along.) so well. But I know the drive down here is hard for them (300 miles one way but yet it always turns out to be an all day even for them as something always comes up — you know like Easter weekend traffic!) and I’m attempting to reciprocate by going back up there but scheduling time when we all have time seems to be a conflict. That and we are all lazy 🙂 I would love to go on a vacation with them somewhere new where we can call chill out for a week or so. *hinthinthint*
Rob’s roommate, S., and I got to talking a while back and decided to join weight watchers together (she prefer to be anonymous at this point) and start working out. I’m starting on a journal to get motivated on this. The whole schism of WW is that it’s a point system and you have x amount of points available to everyday. You can bank points and you can exercise points off — but the goal is that it helps people to lose weight and do a new way of thinking. I’m finishing up week 1 and so far (surprise surprise) and I’ve done fairly well for myself. Stayed within my point range and even worked out. The journal will keep a somewhat updated blabbering (I’m using blogger for this one) of the diet, weekly weigh-ins and what not. I’m really really really wanting this as I had promised myself to be thin by the time I turned 30 (which is in a little over a year) and be in shape for the rest of my life before I end up getting diabetes or anything else that runs through my family due to obesity. Yes, I am considered obese — I’m 100lbs over my “target” weight (and that’s at the high end scale). I’m shooting for a goal of 170-180 as being my “goal” weight but I need to take it 10 percent at a time and then work on it from there. I just got overly excited when browsing some online shops like oldnay.com and gap.com as they now carry larger sizes (up to a 20) but by their standards, I’m too big for a 20. which is funny because I can fit into a size 20 at lane Bryant but as S. pointed out, Lane Bryant also sizes up 1/2 size for clothes.
I hated being that inbetween weight a few years back where I had been too big for normal clothes and too small for Lane Bryant. Now the desire to feel and look sexy is far outweighing the eating and the simple ability to want to wear freaking JEANS comfortably is motivating me to do this.
The irony is that S. reminds me a lot of my friend Sherry from back home in Michigan — down to their attitude about certain things. I’ve tried looking Sherry up online and called her last known phone number, but it had been disconnected. She knows how to find me if she really wanted to — but not seeing someone for nearly two years can change a lot about a person.
As the month slowly comes to a close, I’m rushing around getting things together for my brothers 22nd birthday, Paul’s 21st birthday and my upcoming birthday in June (I’ll be 29 going on 22 — again). My father has been in my thoughts more so in these last few weeks as he’s been dead a year on 4/25 and that was with his death my whole anxiety had come unleashed out into the open. Last summer was major hell and I sure as fuck do not plan on going through that same hell again this summer.
Working towards improving something, even yourself, is such hard work. I could see where I slip as I watched paul eat Oreo’s tonight (I had two — which used up quite a few points and opted not to have anymore this evening) and thinking about the strange dreams I’ve been having and wondering what they mean, the smell of the fresh cut grass and feeling the sun burn against my arm as my legs stick to the leather of my car seats. Everything seems to be winding down nicely and everything seems calm for the moment.
Now only if I can get Wednesday (the spayed female pug) to stop mounting and attempting to fuck Lily (the unspayed female pug), my world would be a better place.
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Lisa