Tonight I met my friend Mark, one of my oldest on-line friends, in person.
Mark and I have had our ups/downs in the last five+ years we have known each other. I met him shortly after he got married to now when he is going through a divorce. He’s seen me move from Michigan to California to Virginia. We’ve had our fights and our moments of closeness. Tonight, unplanned, we decided to hook up.
I am, very very comfortable, with meeting people I have first met on- line. A good chunk of the relationships and friendships I have know is due to the Internet (including my fly-by-the-seats experiences and also thanks in part how i got my job). I wasn’t nervous. As stated, I’m very comfortable with meeting people I know on-line. It is, simply put, a further extension of myself by greeting them in person. I told Mark that I would hug him when I see him (typically, i come from a very demonstrative family. i am so surprised that i have yet to get a “sexual harassment” filed on me at work for how friendly we are to each other). A few hours later after work (with him getting lost on 495 — damn beltway), he ding donged my doorbell and there he was!
I hugged him and Paul was being a bitch and didn’t want to meet him, we grabbed my purse and took off for Best Buy.
It turns out Mark has never sat in a Saturn before AND he’s never been to Starbucks! So, i devirginized him in two separate things tonight.
He and I sat outside of Starbucks (which was next door to best buy. I got the “Hannibal” dvd and the dvd of “Memento” — a movie I’ve been dying to see) and drank our coffee and talked. It was such a peaceful night — the air was a tad crisp (perfect for wearing my new cords), the sky was really clear and we laughed at all the idiots passing us by and i tickled him for good measure. Mark smelled great and I was happy to have met him. He looked so angelic compared to the previous pics i saw with all of his piercings. Mark also has a few tattoos and we talked about ink and life and relationships. I had a really good time.
Prior to all of this, I had asked Paul if we had any plans for tonight and he had said no. So when I told him not only was I going to meet mark, but that I wanted him to meet him, he went into bitch-mode and threatened to deck Mark. I told Paul, bluntly, that I had a right to go out with friends and that if i was having an affair with Mark, I would not tolerate this super possessive attitude Paul has been showing of late and he could either accept the fact I was going out or he could be a little bitch. Paul choose to be a little bitch. It was not 10 minutes after our conversation this afternoon in which I told him this (and he had told me we had no plans for tonight), that he asked what time everyone was meeting up for the weekly game of pool at Breakers. I wanted to kill him.
My assertiveness to be ‘me’ and not Paul’s latchkey seems to be working. We talked tonight and decided not to have sex anymore unless we truly wanted to be together — and not have sex for the sake of sex. He wanted to get to know me better and become friends again. I really really appreciate this sentiment and am willing to give it ago because I can admire that he said this to me. I know we have a lot to work out on, and I remain firm though in my decision to start having a life outside my relationship with Paul and if he chooses to come with me on my decisions, than we will be so much the better as a couple.
But no guarantees and no promises of tomorrow. We just have to live our life day by day and see what happens.
x0x0x
lisa
Category: The Lisa Chronicles
fire woman
I was having a post-coital moment after sex tonight sitting on the toilet reading stuff (the august 2001 issue) when the article on “how to stratify her to tears…of joy!” caught my eye.
Apparently, in this article, the journalist(s) dis on everything from different positions and tantric and kama sutra saying that in short, none of it works. They blamed Sting for how bad tantric is because part of the exercises is that you have to stare into your lovers eyes for hours before even engaging sex. Also, apparently, ‘dirty talk’ (72%) and ‘anal sex’ (41%) were on the list of ‘kinky things’ people have tried. In the category of ‘kinky things we have tried and didn’t like’, group sex (38%) and anal sex (38%) were the top two things people would never try again. Also listed were bondage, role play and voting for a democrat.
Aha. They polled 1200 Cosmo readers. NOW it makes sense.
In any regard, this recent backlash of going to an almost puritanical stint in the terms of human sexuality is all wrong. Women should be gathering and empowering their sexiness, not turning into boring little boards with boobs. it angers me. yes missionary is fine. Vanilla sex is fine. But even after awhile you start to count the threads in the sheets you are so bored.
I’ve been in this mood lately, since i arbitrarily changed my meds to 75mg of Effexor and 150mg of Serzone. When I was on the 350mg EFfexor and 50mg of Serzone, i was thinking clearly but my sex drive was low. Since mid-july (due to when I was in Michigan and having to ration out my crack), I’ve been on this new cocktail, I’ve been feeling more sensual and sexual. It’s like taking a hot bath after days of having no hot water. It’s a wonderful feeling. I can tell by the change in drugs how my mood has changed and how more confident I feel (Don’t worry Dr. B, I’ll be making an appointment again, I haven’t forgotten) both naked and when wearing clothes. I feel more alive, as it were.
This is of course, bothering Paul, to some extent. I took the initiative and put a personals ad on nerve.com to meet people (no, not just for sex but to just make friends with hello) in the area that i hadn’t already met via work or some geeky type of thing. I wanted to meet people that were of my interest and not just the geeky-types. I was getting pretty fed up with how our social life was resulting in meeting people and Paul chubbing a wood because of all the toys everyone has. Not to say our local friends aren’t great, they are, i just need more.
Which is the story of my life.
At any rate, I’ve been striking up conversations with people via nerve and having a damn fine time. I plan on meeting one in October when both of our schedules are free and another longtime ‘net friend this weekend (i hope) since he is finally getting a divorce from his wife and we can hang out without her getting feisty about it. I’m also going to start taking dance classes next week (adult tap/jazz/ballet) as I haven’t danced in years (not including clubbing) and i don’t want to look like a big dork when I DO go clubbing (thanks alisha!).
So sex is on my mind and today i had shaved every hair on my body i could find, even down to my cunt making it as bald as i could with a bread trimmer and my Venus razor. I get so turned on by shaving, I instantly masturbated after my shower thinking of a lisa sammich. Afterwards, wrapped in a towel and a bathrobe, i walked out to the computer room, grabbing Paul’s hand to feel my hairless cunt, telling him, lets go make some noise. As per usual, he was more interested in Tony Hawk than fulfilling my needs and immediately got upset when I had told him I had masturbated. He accused me of cheating. When I asked whom was I cheating with (we were standing in our bedroom at the time), he said Aaron Lewis (lead singer of Staind, my lust for bald tattoo’d pierced men has come to the forefront again). I laughed. At any rate, I attempted to pin him down this evening for some quality pussy time when he kept giving me the jibe of ‘not right now’, and I’m thinking to myself “you know, fuck this, he always put his computers in front of me and I’m sick of it’, so i said ‘are you turning me down?’ and he said ‘no, just not right now I’m busy (playing a video game)’. so i begged and i pleaded and finally we went to the bedroom and started snuggling.
Paul now has this new habit of where he no longer feels ‘dominant’ or ‘aggressive’ cos he’s not in the mood to be. To preface this, we both have ‘issues/matters/concerns’ with our sex life, which has lead heavy discussion with Dr. B on what to do next. Primarily “was it me or is it him or what the fuck is going on”. Partly, he is scared because anything that is beyond vanilla i tend to get upset at. Riguse anything that is beyond episodes within the last few years and now that I’m on crack, i feel so much the better for it. I learned how to deal with my anger and my depression (as it were), and i want to have more. Nothing so far, is seemingly, working. It’s a huge issue between us, as you have probably guessed.
So by this time tonight, I’m hot and horny again (i have no idea what’s been setting me off lately — my trigger points usually are smells and music, but this time everything seems to be setting me off), and I’m rubbing up and down Paul in my grey little nightie and thong looking at him adorably and telling him I want to go make love (I’m changing tactics here, I’m infamous for wanting to just ‘fuck’). I beg and plead some more and we go off to the bedroom where Paul climbs under the covers and starts being passive. I’m trying hard not to get angry, I’m trying hard to be different in approaching him in anticipation he see’s i really do want him. This continues for a few minutes while I snuggle and kiss him and I feel like I’m ‘forcing’ myself on him. I get his shirt and underwear off and climb on top of him, 69 style, driving my cunt into his face with only my thong to keep him from tasting me. Usually, this works. Usually, he is such a cunt-eater, that even the smell just gets him going. I’m giving him head, notating how I give it and paying a lot of attention to his cock, all the while I’m driving and grinding down hard on his face and he is just …. laying there. He is hard and he is moaning, but he is just laying there. So I reach around, pull my thong to the side and shove my cunt deeper in his face. He finally starts reciprocating. After awhile, I get naked, grab a condom, sit on him and place his hands on my breast. I start just moving my hips only slowly, very very very slowly and Paul is like ‘come here and give m a kiss’ and I’m not in the mood to be kissed, i just want to feel his cock inside of me. I’m grinding away and he comes but at the same time i keep mashing his hands against my breasts and he sighs this content of relief.
I roll over on the bed still hornier than fuck (i have only been able to cum vaginally once, maybe twice in my life) and start to masturbate. Paul has referred me to being male as I roll over and just sleep when I’m satiated.
Sex has been figuring heavily in my mind lately as I’m watching friends of mine divorce or break-up and one of the biggest reasons why is “lack of affection/lack of sex” (besides cheating, but I won’t go into that). I value having a relationship with Paul, but this putzy way we are having sex is driving me crazy. We used to have fun in the begriming (as I refer to as the “Atlanta time”) and now i feel like we are an old married couple. We seriously need to start working on this issue before I stab him or something because I do not want to spend my life with someone who isn’t sexually compatible with me. People get married for all the wrong reasons, and while I may love someone deeply or am in love with someone deeply, i DO however see sex and love as being together and not separate. I never thought, in a million years, of being with someone I wasn’t sexually attracted to, had that intense feeling with, etc and staying with them because i loved them. Physical love needs to grow as well as spiritual love. No more compromises and no more ‘another times’.
the time is now.
x0x0x
Lisa
I’ve moved a lot in my relatively young life. When is started thinking about all the places I’ve moved to, I wanted to draw up a list:
- 1972 – Born in Toronto, Ontario, Canada
- 1972 – Moved from Toronto to Port Huron, MI
- 1985 – Port Huron MI to Grand Rapids MI – apartment complex
- 1989 – GR: Apartment complex to my mothers lovers (Chuck) house
- 1990 – GR: Mothers lovers house to her own house on Paris Ave
- 1990 – GR back to Toronto, Canada
- 1991 – Toronto back to Grand Rapids, MI
- 1996 – GR: Moved from my mothers house in with Danny
- 1997 – GR: Moved back to Mothers house
- 1997 – Grand Rapids, MI to San Francisco, CA
- 1997 – SF: Changes apartments
- 1998 – Moved to Oakland, CA
- 1999 – Moved from Oakland, CA to Virginia Beach, VA
- 1999 – Moved from VB to Fairfax
- 2001 – Moved from Fairfax to Herndon, VA
- 2001 – Herndon: Moved across the complex to a smaller apartment
mother, may i
my mother called me this morning to let me know what was currently going on with her since she had moved to Port Huron. She still gets a bit giddy with the realization that she see’s an ad on television for Port Huron, she thinks to herself how wonderful it would be for her to live there and then reality strikes that she does live there.
Mumsy is becoming the belle of the ball, being the second youngest resident in the independent living apartments she is currently residing in. She goes out, she plays poker, she goes shopping, she’s always on the go. She was lamenting to me that she no longer feels productive anymore and i had to keep reassuring her that she was getting along just fine. I then thanked her for being so damn impatient, passing that trait on to me and making me the anal retentive person that I am today.
A prime example is after we had moved everything yesterday, Alvin and I were in my bedroom unpacking my books. You can tell a lot by what person first unpacks after they move. The three things I was worried about were:
a. coffee machine/grinder
b. the teddy bear I’ve had since i was 3
c. my book collection
Alvin offered to help stack the books into the huge bookshelf i have, when i declined and said no, my anal retentiveness wouldn’t allow it. I couldn’t find the one big box of books i had that i had in my “current reading pile” but started reading About A Boy again by Nick Hornby, after telling Chris it was a load of poo. Well it was a load of poo, but it was a year ago when I read it (after finishing High Fidelity and deciding that the main character was me) and who knows?
Maybe I was wrong.
So far, I haven’t been wrong.
We have no gas and thus nothing to heat up the water heater and we can’t cook. Last night I had to have a shower and stood there under the freezing cold sprays.
the real me
i could spend an inordinate time filling in the back story of these last few months that have whizzed by pretty fast. but the thing is, i don’t think neither of us really care anymore about the back story, as i always end up trading that in for the current moment.
life has shown me, in the last year and a half, how incredibly sweet and short it is. I’ve discovered that anger isn’t a way to deal with things (I’m an executive goth btw), that you shouldn’t put yourself or let yourself get into situations that make you uncomfortable and you should primarily write for yourself and make yourself happy.
while these are easy words to say, and easy words to write, i know making that first step and that tiny step is the most important one. It’s like when I joined weight watchers and had to admit i was a bit too chubby for a girl my size, and that i had to admit that i used food to compensate for “issues,matters and concerns” that were plaguing my life at the moment.
and that has ALWAYS been my problem, my god i laugh now thinking about seeing my one therapist Charlie back in the old days when I was living in Grand Rapids and he said “your problem isn’t depression, or a mental issue; but men.” And he said it so plainly and to the fact I guffawed at him later on thinking he was full of crap. But when you examine my life and look at all the minute details at it, everything surrounding me has to do with me and or the problem with men. Either I’m pining for them, moving cross country for them or basically injecting some male into my life as making him into the circle that is me is going to change and make everything better.
I would always, ALWAYS give friends a hard time and put this front up about how you should never let a man run you down or let a man run your life and here i repeat the same pattern my sisters before me have done for thousands of years.
And it’s NOT because I’m a femi-nazi and it’s not because i hate men (i generally do like and get along with them more so than with women) but romantically, i suck major dick (ahahahah) at relationships and it’s pretty obvious when I’ve been in three failed ‘adult’ relationships leading up to living with each other that I am doing something wrong.
This is also not to say that the men involved are blameless or that they are the trouble maker, no, it’s me that makes the bad decisions and it is i who must pay the consequences.
Perhaps it’s said that I watch too many effing movies, but the one I adore and comes to mind often is Dream for an Insomniac which I KNOW I’ve mentioned before. “Anything less than extraordinary is a waste of my time.”
I feel love should be like this: passionate, caring, compromising, and willing to do short of murder for that person. Your knees should get weak when you see them and the tension and the chemistry between you and he/she should be thick enough that you can here the cackling in the air. I’ve shared so many moments in my life with someone and felt that, for a brief minute and I want to capture that feeling and bottle it. I want to keep it by my side and make it available to me 24 hours a day seven days a week.
I’ve said this before and I’ll keep saying it till one day i believe it. I feel like I’m fighting for my own personality and discovering who I am. Derrick said after we had gone and gotten his tattoos one night, that they made him feel more like himself and more confident, and he’s right. I like the look of metal after it’s been shoved into my body.
Paul and i are still together and are attempting to work things out. He wants me to promise him forever and a day, and I can’t promise that. A lot of shit got fucked up within the last year of our relationship and I’m not sure where this is going to go. We are not getting married though I do wear the promise ring he gave me until some concrete decisions have been made and some work has been done on us. Things could work out, things could not, it’s all up to the hands of fate.
I remember years ago when I was dating Miguel and he said to me “I love you but I’m not in love with you” and I always though they were one and the same. It wasn’t until as I got older and realized that I have loved many people (and loved many men) but i have been in love with only a scant few. Alan. Danny. Paul in the beginning. I believe that being in love with someone lasts for a lifetime, even if you grow apart. But you can love someone as well and not be in love with them. As I grow older, I see that I care more for about being in love than loving someone and being comfortable in that relationship. I would feel like I was missing out on everything in the world.
Of all the mundane things in the world, love isn’t one of those things you want to fuck up.
———————
As you can see, the new modgirl.net is up. None of the links are working and I’m still working on the back end. I just got really effing tired of seeing the same crap day in and day out and wanting to continue writing and putting it off because I had not done the site yet. Fuck it.
History often repeats itself.
x0x0x0x
lisa
pictures galore
This summer has been pretty busy, with my mom attempting to commit suicide, Paul and I calling off the wedding, and me getting inked/pierced galore. Plus include my obsession with Power Girls, my puppies and getting acrylic on my nails, it has been strange. To keep you interested until I get the website up and moving again, here are pics taken with the new digital camera I got for my birthday, indexed per subject.
Enjoy.
Tattoos/Piercings:
left calf tattoo done 8/11/2001
eyebrow pierced 8/11/2001, nose pierced 3/1993
10g barbell put in 7/1999, pierced 1996
mom’s name ‘marietta’, two different variations
picture taken summer of 99
tongue pierced, 7/1997
Paul’s dragon, left upper arm
Paul’s right wrist
x0x0x0x
Lisa
coming soon
First I was in Michigan for five weeks. Then! Roadrunner got hit with codered and rendered us useless (internet wise) for almost 2.5 weeks. Then! Moe turned off FTP and I had to figure out how to upload all my crap other than command line scp (godbless winSCP and it’s gui).
I am hoping to get everything back up and in working order within the next few weeks. If you are truly bored go to watch me cam. In color even. You may even get a glimpse of one of my new tattoos/piercings. I forgot to mention that part didn’t i? đ
See you soon
x0x0x
Lisa
segue
How the hell do you start talking about the fact that your mother attempted suicide? I had been sitting here for the last few days thinking about it myself here, coming up with no real answer. Do I sit here and talk about sitting with her Saturday morning at the emergency room watching the ER nurse talk on the phone to her kid rather than take care of my mom? Do i talk about calling 911, having Kent County Sheriffs department show up and the cop asking me if I was the one who OD ‘d? How the hell do you start a conversation about that?
Perhaps we should go into the back story — maybe that will explain it a bit more.
For as long as I’ve been writing TLC, I’ve talked about the fucked-up- ness (if that is a word) about my family. My own mental health up and downs, my failures and successes with my life, and touched on the bit about my fathers death and the almost estranged qualities my mother and I had.
Several weeks ago, I received a phone call from my mother, which is rare as I had always called her. Her voice was monotone and almost hypnotic when she spoke. Due to diabetes, her vision was getting worse by the day and she had become a hazard on the road. She didn’t know what to do, she couldn’t qualify for early retirement, she couldn’t get Social Security. She felt like her life was failing and she saw no need to go on. She told this to me, to Jeff, to the on call nurse at St. Mary’s, to the doctor, to everyone.
Friday 6-29-01, I called my mother on my way to work when she sounded horrible. She had called me the previous day to let me know she had resigned from her job — and I was begging her to wait till 7-3-01 so that I could drive up there. She didn’t know if she could make it. That afternoon, after getting everything squared away at work, I went ahead and drove from VA to MI, rolling in at about 3:30 am Saturday morning. My brother, who was in Oregon for a basketball camp, flew back home Sunday afternoon. By Monday morning, the whole family was together for the first time in nearly four years.
Monday 7-2-01 my mother attempted to OD on insulin by giving herself twice her normal value. Tuesday 7-3-01, we decided that she needed more help than we could give her and attempted to get her admitted to PineRest, which is the local (Grand Rapids) mental hospital. But my mother pulled the rug out from the shrink’s eyes and they agreed that she just needed a change in medication. She came out of Cornerstone, happy and nearly bouncy. She came home and attempted to get her life in order and then the next day, she slept for the next 36 hours.
Saturday 7-7-01, my brother came and woke me up. Mom took 200 units of insulin, he said. She is attempting to kill herself he repeated, and I woke up with a start. I held onto her while he called poison control. Jeff started making her drink OJ with sugar added while I got on the phone to 911. Within an hour, she was stabilized at the local hospital.
And now the choice is, where do we go from here?
x0x0x,
Lisa
kinky afro
I have figured it’s high time i sent out an update. Besides, my updates are more important than answering the phone or doing actual work!
As many of you have probably noticed, modgirl.net has been removed including archives and what not. i am NOT going on hiatus and i am NOT removing modgirl.net perm. I got my grubby little hands on some really great web design software that allows me to be a bit more dynamic, and I gave myself two weeks to get everything under control. However, within those last two weeks, I’ve also had to work late and had lots of over time (which I’m not paid for, i was just doing it to get brownie points) plus we’ve had friends visiting and it would have been Huber rude if i said “hey, my website is more important than you”. So, I’ve neglected it by quite a bit.
I’m giving myself another one week extension to get the work finished. I’m implementing a lot of nifty things such as a search feature and a bit more interactivity. The new website should be unveiled by June 10th. Two days before my 29th birthday.
As I hold desperately to my twenties, I’ve been reexamining my self with Dr. B., the shrink. I saw her yesterday and made my everlasting comment of “I don’t know who I am” and did my song and dance about what roles I’m supposed to be playing in society and where I fit in. She asked me if i had any goals, and other than college, I have none really. She suggested that I read “7 effective habits of highly successful people” or some crap. Plus with all the other books she’s been giving me to read, not only is amazon.com and bn.com love me, but my reading stack has grown considerably. I’m looking at getting some goal and direction in my life. Considering i just plunked down 2500 for two classes including books, i do not want to be having another midlife crisis soon.
So yep, I’ve been accepted to UMUC.edu — which is pretty cool in and of itself since they have a complete program for online distance education and my two classes are completely online. If I do well at UMUC, I may not have to step into a classroom until I start work on my graduate courses. I am, of course, all excited about this. I even ran out and got my library card at the county library system and that gave me more joy than i have known in some time.
i know, a library card — i haven’t had one since I lived in GR back in the early 90s. I love having a library card — cos then books are free! đ There are several public libraries within a few miles of our apartment in NoVa, and I can’t wait when I have to go do a paper and need to pack up my books and papers and study for a few hours. Paul will, of course, be calling the cellphone every two minutes, but that is what the power button is for. đ
I usually do a big toodoo about my birthday — which is coming up in 13 days, about a month before hand. Lisa-Mas this year will probably be celebrated quietly (or not), but hey, if you feel generous, you can always get me a gift! đ wishlist: http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/wishlist/2WAB63BL37XRG
Several have said with the amount of items added and the dates, it’s not up to date, but I can assure you, it is đ
more later đ
x0x0x
Lisa
pauly is 21
today, 5/9/2001, my little luv muffin finally turned 21 đ
and we are taking him out tonight to get hammered đ
more details forthcoming —
ps: go check out www.novageeks.org — i just redesigned it — and am thinking about adding a message board to modgirl as well.
Comments?
DISCUSS!
Lisa
—-
Tonight marked my fifth meeting of going to weight watchers.
it began when S. suggested we get our bodies moving (primarily since she found herself wearing size 20 jeans on her small frame) and I was personally disgusted with learning i was carrying 283 pounds on my 6′ tall frame.
The picture to your left was taken approximately four days before we started.
A month later, I’ve dropped 10 of the 100 pounds i want to lose and am feeling much better about myself.
What cracks me up about being on WW is that I don’t see it as a diet — I really do see it as a “life changing way of eating” (snort) — and for me this is not about wanting to be a size 6 — it has never been about me wanting to be a size 6 — it’s always been about feeling good and looking good for the rest of my life. I know from my personal experience growing up that being ‘overweight’ (or chubby as we call it in the rabey-sullivan household) has always been a disadvantage for many reasons but one of the things that stand out in my mind as a child is the torment I received being the biggest (and tallest) kid in my class as well as the pain my brother went through when he was younger and fatter (he’s a lean 250lbs on his 7′ frame). My brother passed along his then anxiety to my mother by badgering her about being overweight. The cycle would start over and over and over
Plus I’m hell bent on wearing a red thong bikini before my tata’s head far too south.
The WW plan is simple: each food is given x number of points. You are allowed to eat x number of points per day. You go to meetings once a week and get weighed in, pay your 14 bucks, listen to the “team lead” to motivate you and you start again. I like this “life changing” way of eating. It’s easy to keep track of and i can eat anything ANYTHING i want to. My third week (second week on the diet), I lost four pounds but I had eaten taco bell, pizza and cake as well as other food that week. I am not deprived of anything — which is a good thing. Other diets I’ve been on sucked major ass as I had to remove carbs, remove fat, count this and weigh that. This diet is literally fool proof. Hell i lost 10 pounds, that has got to say something,
But I’m excited. This feels right to me and I’m faithfully chronicling
my food journal everyday (wish i could say
the same about TLC sometimes đ if you know what i mean winkwinkwink).
What I’m tired of is the naysayers who say shit like:
“Oh 10 pounds? That’s mostly water weight.” Water weight? Jesus. Give me a break — I’m female, I get my period every month, i know what water weight is — and water weight does slide off your body at the average of 2-3lbs a week. This is FAT (not to be confused with phat) that is sliding off.
“Oh, you don’t need to lose weight/get in shape/diets are a bunch of scams”: One of my coworkers made a comment similar to this some time ago and it really burned my britches. They implied that since I had a man, there was no reason for me to feel good about myself. I wanted to bitch slap them into oblivion. Other comments over the years have produced the same results, but herein lies my own mental psychology — people are cruel. Yes, this is a common thread we’ve all experienced in our lives, but if you are fat/handicapped/look different, people are even more so cruel. Why are they cruel? To make themselves feel better about themselves — fuck, I do it myself when I’m being catty about other women I see (“ohmygod, she is wearing white shoes with a black dress!”) and about other things myself. I’m not innocent in this little game we play with each other myself here, I’ll take my lumps with the rest of you. Obesity (yes, since I am “technically” 100lbs over weight, I am “obese”) runs in my family, hereditary diseases like diabetes also runs rampart in my family as well as various diseases pertaining to the ovaries. One of the causes is being overweight. So fuck me for wanting not to die at an early age.
“Oh, you look fine just the way you are”: See above.
And the list goes on and on and on, but you get the point I’m making here.
Then you have the people who are chronic dieters — they talk about their experiences all the time at the meetings, about how they lost xx number of pounds and then gained it back after lifechangingevent/baby/xyz. Or the frantic dieters who drink nothing but water two days before the weigh in and piss for 48 hours to get rid of the weight. Or the snack-freaks who eat nothing for 24 hours and pig out on krispy kremes after the meeting. These are all the stories shared and some of them lack such common sense and others are just plain funny.
S. and I are feeling a bit out of sorts because we don’t feel like we belong to the group we meet with every week. Most of them are over 40 and most of them want to lose that extra 15lbs that has been hanging around since the Vietnam war. As twentysometings (ie young), we don’t get the obsession some of these women put into dieting as well as some of the more “motivational” uses some of the use — like the really obese woman who weighs herself twice a day and freaks out if she gains a few ounces — that’s just unrealistic (and funnily scary).
I just want to feel good and feel better about myself and I’m taking it one day at a time, I just wish some of these women would understand that doing this for xx amount of days is not going to get them down to a size 4/6 for their honeymoon/midlife crisis/etc. To me that is just disturbing.
x0x0x
Lisa
reality bites
does anyone remember the movie reality bites? see i remember when it was first released, and my friend sherry and i had declared this anthem that this movie was about us — it was us. i was a mix of vickie miner and lani pierce while sherry was more of a lani pierce but with blonde hair, more trendy and more into doing for herself than lani was.
but it was never about who we personified, it was always the attitude.
Paul and i went to a party last night, which was okay, but realized with our lifestyles that we really don’t fit in with the group we had gone to see. it was supposed to be to meet people and branch your networking activities, but we both sat on the couch nursing beers feeling out of the scene. it was depressing to realize how many of the people knew each other going back to high school and college and had the same common interests and could relate to each other on my different levels — while as Paul and i sat there like lumps on the log. we left hurriedly to catch “The Mummy Returns” but even seeing imhotep and brendan fraser didn’t get my blood boiling — which it should have.
the problem with the world today, or i should say one of the problems with the world today is that the generation I’m in (which IS generation x, thank you. not this pre-teen bullshit) is now the Internet generation (or generation d as freaking wcom calls it) and now we are all broke and poor and have no business acumen.
I’m struggling sometimes to find that place back when i had something to say — not just i saying something but that energy and that ranting of the time when we were young. but i no longer belive that being young was the cause of our angst or our vitality – it was just this whole new different world that was waiting for us when we left college and went out to the workforce.
and you’re right, who am i kidding that no one has ever felt or done this way before — because with each passing generation there is a new thinker, a new doer a new someone who has discovered or done something that will be rediscovered once more.