we love ikea.
almost every room in our apartment has *something* by ikea in it. our living room has two futons, three tables, bookcase, floor rug. bedroom has dresser (new from today’s outing), two end tables. kitchen has assorted things as well as the bathrooms. i heart ikea. the only ONLY fucking problem is that it’s out in Potomac Mills, which on a good day I can do the drive in 25 minutes (and that is getting on four different highways to get to). But the good driving days here are few and far between. I also heart Potomac Mills as its one huge shopping mall that carries nothing but outlet stores. When Jeff saw the Nautica store, he cried. Now i have a dresser (that i put together, thank you very much. all paul did was screw in the knobs — but he is very good with screwing) with two drawers that are empty as i don’t know what to fill them with. figures. i bitch about not having enough space for months and now i have boatloads of it and nothing to put into it.
the funny thing was, that i was willing to pay the 69 bucks for delivery of the dresser when the guy looked at me like i was crazy as this was my only item. if you are not acquainted with ikea, the premise is that the reason why the furniture and crap is so cheap is due to YOU putting the damn thing together as well as taking it home. Generally this is a good idea, but i was already lugging around two huge frames for art work we had bought plus a heavy bag. carting out two heavy boxes for the damn dresser didn’t make sense to me. when i explained to the clerk that we were lazy (we do have to add in that i live on the third floor AND paul is the king of lazies), he just started laughing. the clerk promised to watch my stuff while i trot out to hell (er the parking lot) to grab my car and pull up. right when i had pulled into the parking spot to load my stuff, it started trickling rain. when i threw the frames into the back seat and had gone to get the dresser boxes, it was down pouring. by the time i had gotten the boxes into my trunk, i was soaked and had to remove my shoes and flip the air on as the steam from the heat of my body being wet was fogging up the windows. The clerk helping me load my boxes gave me a thumbs up seeing my “FSCK ME” plates and the “I brake for pornstars” bumper sticker.
i drove home at a leisurely pace (while talking to paul on my cell about buying a doggy — the verdict is still out) and pulling out ont 495 it was clear — no rain, no storm, no nothing. my windshield wipers were making the “squeak squeak” noise of rubber against dry glass. when paul, derrick and i had left an hour later to go to dinner, i got caught in the same storm — and this time i was wearing a white t-shirt.
some days you just can’t win.
Author: pookiebear
not justin
to “not justin”:
i don’t know who you are — but you are giving me the willies. please stop attempting contact with me and please stop sending emails telling me i’ve dumped my dream guy. the past is over and done with and i’m very much in love with paul.
thank you and have a nice day.
fsck me
my plates came in.
i’m so surprised that the state of virginia allowed me to have the plate “FSCK ME”. There were bets going around due to the fact that a friend of ours who wanted “FSCK” was denied due to it’s implications (supposedly). I am now a “Linux Pronstar”. bow down before me for i give good head.
make it stop
i don’t know what it has been lately, but i’ve been feeling like two separate people are living inside of my body. the other day i got so angry on the way home from work that if someone was in the car with me (which they weren’t), i would have killed them. i don’t know why i was angry or why i would have killed them but the rage in my head is driving me insane. now i’m not talking about just straight off pms, this is much much worse. i have had to start taking walking breaks at work because when i get an email from a customer that sounds scratching (even if it really wasn’t), i have to walk away from the situation to see if i am feeling any better.
chances are, i am and i do. but that doesn’t stop making it less scary. i’m not quite sure what i’m going to do now — i’m thinking it’s the new birth control pills but it may not be. but they found me to be healthy.
supposedly.
back to square one.
x0x0x0x
lisa
6/16/2000 12:18:22 AM
the dark side
okay. paul had set up m*sql on the box so that i could update automagically off of a webbrowser and then the box crashed and things have been — well weird. i’m in love with blogger these days — the uses for it — and i have succumbed to the evil forces by using it now for THREE freaking websites. silly me. you know times are a changing. i have removed netscape from my machine completely (4.73 seems to NOT like me — and nothing seems stable) and am using IE5.5 almost exclusively now. I say almost as i still use netscape at work on my sparc.
today i had signed onto AOL (yes yes i do run aol sometimes. i had signed up nearly 2 years ago when i was working for slip.net to test connectivity problems with customers) and had forgotten that i had signed up to beta test their new software — and somehow i had gotten accepted to their list (i wonder what they base their criteria on — or the fact that my screen name is linuxgurl) and was reading about the new beta tests when i got messaged by some kid. literally a kid HALF my freaking age. there are many reasons why i don’t sign onto aol anymore (being that i get a lot of messages from newbies due to my screen-name being what it is) and i just felt so OLD.
i’ve been thinking more so about this in the last few days since i turned the big 2-8. I celebrated it with a few friends from work who shared the same birthday and one of them had turned 31. I asked him how it was like being over 30 now and he said he didn’t care. Turning 21 was the big one — after that it was smooth coasting the whole way. and with me, it’s not like that. sometimes i look at paul and wonder — we’ve been together for nearly a year — and NOW it hits me he’s 8 years younger than me. The irony is in a way, i was always the oldest amongst my friends when I was growing up — most of them were always a year or two younger than me. i kept thinking of all my friends from Michigan — josh, sherry, shelly, shane, mike, and scads of people who i don’t remember anymore. Jenni forwarded me the info for my 10 year reunion next month. i don’t know whether to laugh or cry about the details.
healthy as a horse
for months, nay years, i’ve been living under the impression that i’ve been sick with various ailments. none of them terribly serious but concerning for ones health to be sure. within two weeks i got told that the previous doctors assessments were *wrong* and that i’m healthy as a horse.
i’m confused.
and you are probably wondering, why are you confused? that is awesome news. but that still doesn’t explain what seemingly is wrong with me!
you see, about 10 years ago, the doctor confirmed that i had polycystic ovarian disease. this means (basically) i have too much male hormones in my body (which accounts for my agressivness) and causes cysts to be built up on my ovaries causing me to not get my period regularly AND that i could have problems having children. i schedule an appointment with a doctor who specializes in PCOD and i’m excited. all my damn problems seemingly are caused by one singular thing. she talks to me, checks me out. blood pressure normal. has me get blood drawn. slaps me on a new pill that is supposed to make my life easier and bearable — and then…
i start my period 2 weeks early. i’ve been so moody pauls started calling me dr jeckyl and mrs hyde. and the doctor called me to tell me that my blood tests were normal and there was nothing to indicate that i had PCOD. nothing. i’m clean. no problems. so why do i exhibit signs if my blood tests are fine? its frustrating. i’m so sick of my body reacting violently to even the smallest amount of stress. i’m sick of always being grouchy. no one, i mean no one, can be this much of a fucking hypochondriac.
geez.
so now i’m taking my tired ass to bed.
x0x0x0xx0
lisa
birthday countdown part deux
my birthday is tomorrow! it’s not too late to buy me something!
i brake for pornstars
last weekend paul and i were at the mall shopping around. i had no idea what i wanted for my birthday. since we have the means to buy what we need when we need it, i haven’t been lacking in anything.
paul pulled me into a goff-in-a-box type store and i saw the perfect bumper sticker i brake for porn stars. since i’m a pronstar and not a pornstar, i bought it anyways. the following day after affixing said sticker on my car, i nearly got rammed into at least FIVE times from people trying to read it. either that or virginia drivers are even more horrid than i thought.
speaking of driving, on Tuesday i finally took my ass down to the dmv to get my license replaced (i’ve lived in virginia since november, you’d think i’d do this sooner) and to get my tags. now. here is the screwy part:
i’ve been informed by several virginia residents that the cost of getting plates/tags in VA is quite expensive. it’s based on the tax of the car which can actually run into hundreds of dollars. i was so afraid of it costing an arm and a leg, that i opted to get plates in cali before i left (which was an arm and a leg in itself). but then (dramatic pause) my plates expired, i had gotten busted for speeding (twice) and found out my license was suspended (punishable to time in jail in virginia). so i set out to find a list of things to do before heading to the dmv.
in the state of virginia, you need to have safety/emissions test done first. then it’s on to the dmv where you tell the customer information person what you need to do, they give you a ticket and you wait for your number to be called. the cost of my plates were a lot cheaper than i had anticipated. cost of reinstating my license, tags/registration for my car (for two years) plus personalized plates (that say FSCK ME) came to a grand total of 130 dollars. today i love virginia.
the other neat part was that you get your license right then and there. why does that excite me? because i remember living in california and in Michigan you had to wait weeks to get your license. *snap* picture taken, wait 10 minutes, schazam! new license.
28
tomorrow is my 28th birthday.
and i’m having issues. major issues.
why is turning 28 so fucking hard?
if someone has the answer, mail me.
my old ass is going to bed.
birthday countdown
my birthday is in 8 days.
buy me something! .
oops! i did it again!
i’m obsessed with britney spears.
get over it.
the art of death
today i had to run to cvs to grab some stuff for a gift i bought for a friend of mine whose birthday is coming up. while i was perusing the aisles, i noticed the fathers days cards that were displayed so prominently.
——
the other night, derrick, paul and i had gone to barnes and noble (as we tend to do about 2x a week) and both derrick and i laughed at the fact that we no longer have to celebrate fathers day any longer. while it was morbid in thought, it was, in a way, a welcome relief to the realization that we can celebrate our fathers life instead of mourning their death.
——
in the weeks following my fathers death, i’m still shaken by the aspect of the fact that death is all around me. i see it in the animals we eat, the flowers i pick and the obituaries i can’t tear myself from reading in the sunday paper. i’m working (trying/fighting/hoping) on moving off of this depressing kick – but i can’t shake myself from feeling that one day i too will die and what is going to happen next is the big unknown.
i try to keep comforted by the words my mother and paul both tell me: he’s in a better place now. he’s happy now. he’s not in pain anymore. but on the flipside, i still can’t work over the reality of his death: i haven’t seen him in some time, i didn’t call him enough, i wasn’t made aware of his illness. he won’t be around when i get married, have kids or celebrate other fortunes in my life.
i’m beginning to feel that i too will die. not in the way off future that is the reality of it, but in the oh so close future. tomorrow. next week. next month. this is what immobilizes me and this is what eating at my heart. i lash out to paul only to realised this is getting me no where and that everything feels stale and fake.
——
the only solace i’m finding is the beauty in the green of the trees, the look in pauls eye when he says he loves me and the feel of his hugs when we sleep at night.
x0x0x0x
mid-life crisis at 27
April 25, 2000 — my father dies.
April 29, 2000 — paul, jeff and i fly to toronto for his funeral.
May 2, 2000 — my fathers “wake” where i meet up with cousins i haven’t seen in 10 years.
May 3, 2000 — i bury my father and we all fly home.
May 4, 2000 — paul and i drive to virginia beach for a court date.
May 5, 2000 — go to court and get a speeding ticket on the way home.
May 8, 2000 — come home to find out that i have a suspended license and I go back to work.
May 10, 2000 — i get bronchitis.
May 29, 2000 — realise i’ve been spending the last few weeks in some sort of funk that can only be described as “depression”. i’ve gained a lot of weight, i don’t give a fuck about my job, my life and other etc related aspects. paul and i have arguments that are short of starting WWIII and i want to kill myself however the concept of death has sent me to thinking that since I don’t know what it’s like after you die, then i don’t want to do it. which is the one good thing about being a human: we have the ability to reason and to think about the consequences of our actions.
i’ve read enough trippy novels to last a lifetime. i’ve been reading anything and everything i can get my hands on, however they always fall into the same suicidal, woman is wronged, strong woman without a man genre: ie: the oprah book club. every week we go to barnes and noble and every week i pick up about 50 bucks worth of paperbacks that paul said i wouldn’t be happy unless it was suicidal, depressing or something else knocking down the human spirit.
and sometimes i get flashbacks. i’ll read about someone or watch television commercial/show about a woman who changed their life at 30, 40 and even 50. how life is precious and wonderful and we shouldn’t throw it away. and all i can do is get up at 1am and throw up the remains of my dinner into the toilet. that is what i thought about life sometimes.
and i hated work. i hated getting up and getting dressed only to speak to moronic idiots who supposedly know what they are doing and don’t. i hated pretending that i liked what i was doing. and everyone is leaving. all the good engineers are LEAVING. and i wanted to scream and shout and say “i have no fucking idea what i’m doing. stay!” but i can’t cos that would be selfish and i can’t be selfish.
and i didn’t want to, really i didn’t want to, come off being whiny and pretentious. but when the doctor looked at me (my! you’re a big girl) i suddenly became conscious of the world around me. i became conscious that i was in love even if i was hell bent on destroying it. i was conscious that i had a life that was worth living and i wasn’t living it. i remember a few days ago i was laying in my bath and i was feeling up my tummy and felt new stretch marks from the recent weight gain. the skin felt like satin and while it was glaring red against the rest of me, i felt like that was my cross to bear suddenly. that my weight gain coupled with the world surrounding me was driving me to not leave my apartment for days at a time. i can’t remember a week in the last few months i haven’t been late to work. i can’t remember a time when i wasn’t planted somewhere in front of a television or in front of the computer. everything showed my lack of attention: my relationship with paul, my body.
plan
i’ve got a plan.
you see, a lot has been going on around in my little world for the last month or so, and i needed time to not write or think or do anything really exciting. just. think.
but i’ve got a plan. and i’m going to share it with you in a bit.
x0x0x0x0x
lisa.
death becomes her
on april 25th 2000, my father passed away.
for nearly two weeks, i’ve been struggling with his death. first with my own feelings of guilt (i should have been a better daughter, i wish i would have seen him sooner, i wish i wish i wish), my own feelings of death (i don’t want to live yet i don’t want to die. growing old sucks. i’ll never be young and beautiful again) and my own feelings of death and what not going on.
here i am, nearly 28 years old, nearly wanting to die but yet live. living in these parallel state of continuing life with paul, planning for the future and wanting to just shrivel up and die.
and why are you here
I got a very interesting email the other day:
I am one of those people who first heard about you (was it 2 years ago?) when Wired News mentioned you in passing and included a link. As I recall, you got totally swamped at that point. I remember you mentioning it in one of your posts at the time. That mention, and link, brought you more attention than you’d had before. I don’t know if your readership has continued to grow since then, or if some of the people who signed up then eventually quit. I imagine at least a few have quit. I, myself, have been very, very tempted to quit a few times. Sometimes I ask myself, “Hey, I’ve got a ton of work to do, how can I justify reading these entries from some girl who I don’t even know?” I usually feel this way either when I’m the most busy or when you’re written a really dull entry that didn’t grab me at all.
But, all in all, I stay subscribed. So I’ve been reading your entries, or at least a sampling of them, for 2 or 3 years now. My, how time flies when you’re having fun.
and with the advent of someone adding an actual PORN link to my guestbook, it’s been an interesting week here at pronstar. And in case you haven’t figured it out yet, pronstar.com is a real live porn site.
On April 22, 2000, the 100th person subscribed to the list. I was so proud that I had started screaming and dancing in my living room. I never thought that me, personally; would generate that much interest and that many people would come to the site. I’m not doing so bad with pageviews per day and I’m getting more email the more i update, which just proves beyond a doubt that updating is peachy and stuff.
river
i had spent most of the night crying.
it started when paul and i had gotten into an argument earlier this evening and had escalated when we were sitting opposite of each other on the couches. i was staring at the edge of the coffee table like it was the most interesting thing in the world.
closed.
you don’t talk to me.
you say more on your website than you do to me.
i’m never leaving you.
your problems.
you only hear what you want to hear.
at one point during all of this i had shoved down my shorts and panties, and pulled up my shirt and screamed “i am a woman” as paul claimed i was “being a woman”. (that got a raised eyebrow out of that little stunt).
and we sat and talked.
the same words reverberated over and over.
closed.
you don’t talk to me.
you say more on your website than you do to me.
i’m never leaving you.
your problems.
you only hear what you want to hear.
over. and over. and over.
i sniffled through the rest of the night though other things were going on. packing for paul’s trip to boston. folding laundry. eating dinner. aimless viewing webpages and talking to various people on aol im.
once we had climbed into bed and finished reading my book, paul climbed in being all snugly and cute. and he was tired. we have to get up at 4:45am to make his flight to boston.
———-
when i was about 7 or 8, i remember helping my mom fold the laundry. we had such a large family, that laundry was a daily chore. down to the basement to the washer. up to the kitchen to the dryer and then onto the dining room to be folded. and i remember one time i had gotten the gumption to defy my mother. i had asked her something. i don’t remember what it was pertaining to, but she looked at me and had said “stop trying to manipulate me. this is the way it is.”
all my life people have, in one form or another said that i have manipulated them. and the way i’ve always seen it was that when someone manipulates someone, it’s a conscious decision. they are thinking about some potential harm or evil they want to do to said manipulator. but i’ve never thought that. my mind is blank, as it was this evening when paul asked me to talk. i don’t feel anything pressing in my head to speak. it’s just blank. i just stared at the table edge and the sole of my feet as it were the most interesting things in the world.
i suppose, there is some truth to the matters at present. and presently i don’t feel anything. it’s like i’m going through the motions of life: i have a wonderful boyfriend, a wonderful job, we live in a beautiful area in an awesome apartment and i don’t feel like it’s special.
i don’t think about things, i just do them. i don’t mind fuck people, i just tell them what i feel. i don’t manipulate people because i have nothing to gain from said manipulation. but if the populous is right, than i must be wrong.