and how we’re guilt-stricken, sobbin’ with our heads on the floor

Dear Internet,
I woke up at 4:08 AM today and the dream was innocuous about someone I know on the internets. I was able to go back to sleep fairly quickly. This will make sense further on.


I’m going to apologize and tell you this is another ripping off the bandaid confessional.
It is what I do best


With all of the emotional upheaval in the last few years, I run through my mind similiar experiences to compare and contrast as to learn from my mistakes and not repeat them. I was stuck on ExFiance #1 this weekend because the relationship with him, to me, was almost identical to my relationships to TheBassist and TheExHusband.1
So I obsess and I stew. Stew and obsess some more. What keeps repeating itself through all of this obsessing and stewing is what a horrible person I am.
It was a good weekend.


ExFiance #1 and I had our first date in August of 1996.

I was working at a Blockbuster and he was working as a welder and he came into my video store 3x a week. I’d flirt with him and he’d flirt back and he will tell you he fell in love with me before we even went on a date! The night he asked me out, we were talking in the parking lot for an hour and “It’s The End Of The World As We Know It (and I feel fine)” by REM came on the radio and I had danced in the parking lot like a madwoman.

And our relationship become complicated fast. Up until then, I had never met anyone who was close to being like me in terms of style, desires, and likes. It was heady. He proposed and I said yes, then I ran 3K miles away to San Francisco.
The back and forth started then and got progressively worse. When we had other relationships going on, we’d sleep with the other. When we were engaged to other people, we’d sleep with each other. No matter what state we lived in, we would find a way to fuck. We could not stop fucking our way through everything and fuck all who came between us, they just did not understand.
ExFiance #1 will tell you he put his life on hold for me.
Once I was done being an asshole, a liar, and cheating on perfectly good guys with him, I put my own foot down of my nefarious behaviour, asking him that I wanted to be killed off or made the main character in his life.
He killed me off.


He got engaged to someone else, a Lisa-Lite. “She’s everything like you, but not you. And not crazy” which is always reassuring. By “crazy” he is not referring to my mental shenanigans.
When the fucking between ExFiance #1 and I went completely dead, we tried to be friends and decided to double date with our current partners. I was dating a nice boy from Detroit2, ExFiance #1 had his Lisa-Lite, what could go wrong?
Right.
The double date adventure turned out to be a hilarious event or a big mistake depending on who you ask. The nice boy from Detroit looked almost identical to ExFiance #1 and Lisa-Lite looked nearly identical to me.
Everyone noticed.
There was a few embarrassed coughs and remarks made. I don’t remember if we ended up going out or if the nice boy from Detroit and I hustled our way out of there.
I am trying to recall if I saw ExFiance #1 after that, but I don’t think I did.
Until I started working at a bookstore.


2005 was a banner year. TheBassist broke it off with me twice. An old friend removed me from his life. A guy I was locally dating dumped me when I found out that my mother had cancer. I almost flunked the first semester of my first master’s program.
I’m not sure how ExFiance #1 found out where I was working, but he started coming to the store every month or so to see how I was doing. I didn’t think anything about his behaviour. I didn’t read into that he wanted me back, I didn’t read into it I wanted him back. Our toxic relationship was finally over and laid to rest.
Until the day he came in to tell me he had officially proposed to Lisa-Lite, they were planning their wedding (I obviously was not invited), and the big kicker? He told me he bought her a black diamond ring and suggested, seriously, I should go buy a pair of black diamond earrings to match her ring
I looked at him stunned, wished him a happy marriage (What the fuck DO you say in these situations?) and went to the break room and cried. Half hour? Maybe more, maybe less.
That was the last time I ever saw him.


I woke up Monday morning, at 3:20 AM, in a near hysterics. In my dream, I was in front of TheBassist discussing something, of which I do not remember, and but then I mention his (in my dream I presumed this was true) current romantic relationship3. He said the one he had told me was over then, was new now. I said you told me you used to not have feelings for her and it was long since dead. He was silent. I continued on, but now you have feelings for her? He just gave me this look that told me everything.
Then I woke up.
I was emotionally nauseous while I laid in bed and cuddled the fuck out of Teddy.
Sleep was elusive, fits and starts. I woke up 20 minutes before I was to leave for my therapy appointment.
I was not in a good mood.


Being emotionally nauseous is the term I use when I get emotionally shocked. My stomach cramps but I cannot throw up, my throat is a field of acid burn but it cannot be tamed by anti-acids, and my heart aches. Sometimes there is a headache, sometimes not and those cannot be erased with pills.
In the beginning of something ending, I torture myself by sniffing shirts, looking at old pictures, etc. It is anathema to my well being. Then I compartmentalize the emotions, the physical goods, any other reminders of that thing.
It is only then when I feel like I can begin to breathe.


I have never publicly admitted this but I have ExFiance #1 name tattooed on my left calf. It was done when the “relationship” was at its height, when I was convinced I could win him back. Let bygones be bygones, start fresh.
The tattoo was designed as to not look like a name but if you know it is there, it is obvious. When the toxicity was over, the “relationship” buried, I had another tattoo designed to be its mirror now it looks like some tribal bullshit.


And since we are among friends, during the height of TheExHusband and I’s marriage, I had a thorn done on my left wrist to symbolize our love. Why a thorn? TheExHusband was originally to be named Thor and I love medieval history.
Because if I am not anything but predictable, for TheBassist I had one his tattoos influenced onto my right forearm. His reaction was mixed. He loved the idea, but he was grumpy as to my use due to the words come from the first lines of the first song of an album by a band he loves. I argued while that is true, the sentiment is incredibly applicable to me. I believe we left it at that.
(Because I will beat a dead horse into the ground, for months (and it’s scary to say coming up on years), I’ve wanted to do a separate tattoo from to signify TheBassist.  I have other tattoos to get, so that one is down the road a bit, but when it is done, it will not be publicly announced and will only be explained when asked.
But I know exactly where I’m going to put it.)
(Because I know you’re going to ask, the tattoos for each of them symbolize a memento mori of the relationship. A reminder, if you will, of what is/was important and what I’ve (fucking hopefully) have learned.)


For ExFiance #1, I threw his engagement ring down a well when I was living in California. The rings were cheap bands we bought at a kiosk in some mall. I have no idea of the things he gave me went — more than likely burned, donated, or tossed out.


Does anyone else get emotionally nauseous? I have no idea. I don’t think I’ve ever discussed this with someone — ever. I’ve realized over the years the general we do not go beneath the skin to the really ugly parts of our psyche. As long as we are shallow, everything is okay.
It is things like this that despite the bipolar, despite every other fucking malady, I’ve always felt like I was crazy.
Wouldn’t you?


I brain dumped all of the obsessing over ExFiance #1 to my therapist on Monday. I cried when I was telling the story and beat myself up. “I’m an asshole,” I said. “I ruin everything,” I said. “The back and forth with ExFiance #1 was exactly the same as with TheBassist and TheExHusband!”, I wailed. On and on went the flagellanting of my soul.
She disagreed.
43 year old Lisa is not the same as 24 year old Lisa. Were you diagnosed bipolar then? Yes, I said. Did ExFiance #1 know? No, I said. So he had no idea on the status of your mental health? Yes, I said. Were you medicated? Seeing a therapist? No, I said.
You’re not the same. The relationships are not the same.
Don’t forget how ExFiance #1 treated you. He lied to you. If he cheated on his fiancee with you, he would have cheated on you with someone else. Don’t forget the awful things he said to you. (Brain screams, “But he was punishing me for the constant leaving and going!”) He is not punishing you. When you moved back to Grand Rapids in 2003, he tried to coerce you into sex when you didn’t want to (and almost succeeded) which he then turned into constant “teasing” of not sleeping with him. How he was insanely jealous and had problems with your male friends. He had no friends himself and you are his entire world. He had a child from a previous relationship and did not tell you until much later. Every single compliment was double edged and followed by “you should still be so lucky I still want you5.”
I was desperate, he said. Desperate for him.
I reasoned away everything with I never knew anyone like him and he loved me and I loved him back.
Yes, you may have had issues but do not forget he was an asshole to you. He treated you shabbily.
He was toxic. You are/were better off without him.
You deserve more.
More importantly? TheBassist and TheExHusband are not the same person to each other and they are not the same as ExFiance #1.
Best thing? You are self-aware of the mistakes made and you want to make sure you do not repeat them in the future.


Half the time I do not know who I am.


When I came home later, I reiterate the entire therapy session to TheExHusband. I left nothing out. Deep breath, sip my drink, more confessions come out of my mouth. I repeat this pattern until the story is told.
He agrees with the therapist. He and TheBassist were aware and could handle (to a large degree) the crazy. I didn’t cheat and the lying that was told were half-truths about shit that was unrelated to my relationships with them. I was on a long manic streak and then I crashed. It seemed complicated but it wasn’t complicated.
Remember, they have forgiven you for your behaviour because they understand it is more of your crazy than the actual you. TheExHusband reminds you, daily, what a good person you are, you are worthwhile, you are loved, and you’re safe.


When TheExHusband tells me my daily affirmation, I say thank you, but I don’t believe it. I often quip I knew I was going to be a late bloomer, my path in life was not going to follow a traditional template, and I am aware of this. There is one time in the whole of my paper journaling career I write down I am beautiful and I really mean it.
Once.


(“You are chaotic good, not chaotic neutral.” “What’s the difference?” “Your do not respond to a situation in relation to how it best benefits you, you respond to how it best benefit the other person.” “Oh.” “And that’s it for your D&D reference.”)


My vanity is not confidence on speed, it is because I feel if I am not following certain protocols, then people won’t like me. I know where it stems from, I am tired of knowing. I just want to fix these fucking issues and move forward.
That is what makes me self-aware. I have the tools, now, to not repeat.
(“I don’t know if your low self-esteem is masked by your blusterness or if you really do have spots of high self-esteem.” “It’s all a mask,” says the borderline.)


It is hard for my brain to acquiescence if what I feel is actually true versus if what I believe is true. I attempt to reconcile that feelings change, even minute by minute; that love is not an either or issue; the world is fallible and I am not crazy if I make a mistake.
These are all things I believe to be actually true but in my head, no matter how reasoned the things actually are, it has been and will always remain all my fault.


Friday night TheExHusband and I head to a local Irish pub that is within walking distance of his condo. I am in a goofy mood, zigzagging across the side walk and playing bumper cars with TheExHusband. Dinner is delightful, I have perhaps found the place to watch English Premier League football and the Six Nations rugby tournament.
Then I hear the bass thump from the other side of the wall. I stop eating. I have grown silent. “I don’t feel good,” I say. “I’ve got TheSads,” I say. “Is it about He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named?” “No. Yes.” “What happened?” “I heard the bass and…” “Do you want to get out of here?”
First I say no. I am fine, I say. I can do this, I think. As I am trying to make this not an issue, it became an issue as a band, unrelated to the bass thumping next door, brings their stuff in and starts setting up for that night’s entertainment. I stiffen. Flight or fight, I need to get the fuck out of there.
It does not help I am wearing a Green Latern t-shirt.
TheExHusband pays the check and we walk home. No zig zagging. No bumper cars.
I cannot articulate what I’m feeling so I bake brownies.


TheBassist is a good person. I said some awful shit (I am too ashamed to link) about him and now I am repentant. The shit I was angry about with him was typical relationship shit I blew out of fucking proportion. Rationally I know he didn’t do the things I said he did (what did NOT help was the greek chourus saying he “might have”.) He loves/d me the best he could; he tried to help me the best he could — even when I wanted him to save me and I could only save myself. He was not an abuser, he gave me everything he had, he loved me unconditionally and I — I have no idea what I did what I did. Mania? Being scared? Unworthy? Being crazy? Untrustworthy? No fucking idea what I did what I did.
I get emotionally nauseous when I think about my behaviour towards him.
I would have left me too.
TheExHusband is a good person. Could our marriage have been saved? I have no idea. I churn myself in knots thinking he will kick me out even though rationally I know he will not. Why does he give me the daily Stewart Smalley’s? As a reminder that I am not such the beast I have led myself to believe. He helps me anyway he can. He pushes when I need to be pushed and lets me cry when I’m having a bad day. He asks me daily if I took my drugs and how my brain is doing.
But he also knows all the work is on me.


I would have made an excellent moirologist. After recounting Monday morning’s dream to my therapist, I say through my teeth, “Look. I go about my day with logic and reason about the relationship. I’ve accepted these reasons and I am trying to move forward. BUT MY FUCKING BRAIN just cannot let sleeping dogs lie. I was haunted by the 2 AM hour when, without fail, one of us would reach for the other and make love. It took me weeks, and massive amounts of klonopin, to get through that period. NOW, it’s the goddamned 4 AM wake-up calls, dreams surrounding him even if I don’t think of him for the entire day. It’s beyond ridiculous.”
“Your subconsious cannot let it go.”
Irritated sigh.
“Look. I cannot be in touch with him, no matter how minute. My ecosystem is extremely fragile. These wake-up calls are not helping.”
“It will pass. Not in the speed you want it to go, but it will pass. Patience.”
Fuck patience. That’s what drugs are for.


Sometime after I came home from my therapist, I googled the fuck out of ExFiance #1 (“The worst thing about being a librarian is being a librarian.”). Within 15 minutes, I find all of his info: email address, current address, phone number, Facebook page, and pictures of him. He seems happy. The non-partisan assessment of his behaviour is forgotten, I am at fault. I will always be at fault. A wave of emotional nausea hits, dissipates, and then I felt nothing.
xoxo,
Lisa

This Day in Lisa-Universe: 2015, 20152014, 2013, 2012, 2011


1. When relating this to my therapist today, she said they were nothing alike. I’m not sure if I believe her or not because it feels exactly the same to me.
2. I stopped my cheatin’ lyin’ ways before nice boy from Detroit showed up. The cheatin’ and lyin’ was only ever with ExFiance #1. Because I am an asshole.
3. I have asked politely, and was told my wish was granted, I was to never know when he dated again, if he ever moved with someone, or if he gets married. If my heart went through the floor for someone I was once engaged to when I found out (albeit in an assholish way) they were getting married, I would be emotionally decimated finding out about TheBassist’s new loves. At least for today.
4. In case you can’t tell, I was raised in a German-Catholic family. We know how to do guilt.
5. This is second to the, “With your face and Cindy Crawford’s body, you would be great at modeling.” comment made to me by a boyfriend before ExFiance #1.

heavy like a loaded gun


Dear Internet,
First, one of my pieces, “Devil’s Advocate: Just Because I Divorced Him Doesn’t Mean He’s Not My Best Friend”, was published today at A Practical Wedding. I’m proud of this piece and as an update, after reading this, TEH said, “When you get married again, let me know so I can send you a gift.”
We may not get along romantically, and we’ve made those lines very clear recently, but I don’t know what I would do without him.


It’s a truth universally acknowledged when I start dragging out Elbow, some emotional shit has gone down. I’m not sure how much I’m going to reveal at this juncture (you can wipe your computer screen now), but it has hit me to the core. Just — when I’m now at my lowest point, things never do change, do they? I guess I can believe what I want, as it was reiterated to me, to make myself feel better but when the same thing said now as in the past to erase one’s own pain, well, despite all of my faults, you can’t argue the same thing was not done thrice.


 
Star Wars: VII trailer dropped yesterday and in honor of that, I wrote up my first experience with Star Wars:
Ex-Fiance #1 and I met in 1994, I was working at a video store. He later told me he hemmed and hawed for months before asking me out, which lead to one of first dates watching Star Wars on laser disc because I was 22 and never saw the damned thing. Yes, the first time I saw SW, I was an old lady and it was on laser.
Over the years, we went from being together to not being together for a variety of reasons that I won’t go into now. As the relationship petered out, as they always do, we remained just plain old fuck buddies. Somewhere in between, he found a woman we referred to as Lisa-lite. She could have been my twin, the resemblance was that uncanny, down to some of her interests. I met her when my then boyfriend and I double dated with them. My then boyfriend looked liked Ex-Fiance #1. AWKWARD.
The midnight romance ends at some point and a few years go by. I’m working at a bookstore, putting myself through my first Master’s degree. Who but shows up one day is ex-Fiance #1 with a big smile on his face. He and Lisa-lite had gotten engaged and he tracked me down to tell me that. I was selfish sleeping with him for a very long time, but this was downright cruel. Almost unbearably so.
He then suggested since he bought her a black diamond engagement ring, I should buy matching earrings. He then left while I ran to the break room and cried for a solid half an hour.
Every time I hear the opening music to SW or read the opening scenes to episode IV, I start crying like a maniac. It’s slowed down considerably over the years, and I’m no longer (as much) of a crying mess. Whoever I’m going to see VII with, I come with tissues.”


 
Please watch your step, naval gazing ahead:
As I was writing this, it got me thinking about how I handled my romantic relationships of yore. First Miguel, who I had a thing on and off with for years, when beginning when I was 19 and he 20. He is living in Guam due to family business. He calls me one night, drunk, to tell me he has been fucking someone twice his age. To gain experience, he said. I was still the love of his life, he said. I went back and forth with him in-between other exes — always him telling me I was the one for him, me falling for it, and then him doing something awful. And as time went on, he stopped calling and I stopped having to defend my no’s. He contacted me in 2012 and again last year, which lead to an interesting conversation. (If he’s anything, he’s at least predictable. I’ll probably hear from him next year, as he will then be due to profess his love.)
Next Alan, who dumped me for another woman but kept coming back for more until that faithful night when I, at a bar, she and I got into a fist fight and I had to be dragged off and out by bouncers. He’s living somewhere in Detroit, married, has kids. He once got in touch with me back in the early naughts, about a decade after we had last spoken, to see how I was. “I think about you a lot,” he says. “I miss you,” he says. But then I never heard from him again. Of course.
Then Danny a few years later. We date for six months, I have a massive panic attack about being stuck in suburbia so I cut and run. I come back. I cut again. I come back. At some point we went down to just fuck buddies (see above) and he marries Lisa-lite.
TheExHusband. We date for 18 months. I run. He tracks me down nearly a decade later. We get married. He stops treating me like a wife and more like a roommate. I threaten divorce. Nothing happens. I leave him after nearly seven years. After the divorce, he’s been contrite as to why he was hurting me. We’re slowly building our friendship back together. We’re not dating, just very close friends.
I split up with TheExHusband.
TheBassist tells me he’s got me.
TheBassist. Hoo boy. We date in 2005. He cuts and runs and goes back to his ex-wife. He contacts me six months later, they have separated again. He leaves me again. Flash forward to nearly a decade. He’s been leaving me love notes across the Internet during that entire time. Everyone in his circle knows about the Michigan Girl. Even his girlfriends know during that decade of silence. I am a force to be reckoned with, he says. No one has loved him like I loved him, he says. He was wrong, he says. He made a mistake, he says. I am the love of his life and if he can’t have me, he doesn’t want anyone else, he says.
“I know she doesn’t remember me, since it was about nine years ago now, but in Grand Rapids I made a very large mistake with someone else’s very important organ. I chose what was safe over what made me happy, and I proceeded to reprogram myself. Grand Rapids became my codeword for not choosing love over security, a monument to my own cowardice.”
My life is shit. I’m no mentally stable. I have no job. I’m essentially homeless. I never not believed in us, I just never believed in me. I cut and run. I come back. I cut and run. I come back. In between all of this, I run out of money. Then he cuts and runs with the same reasoning as 2005: He made a unilateral decision on what was best for me rather than letting me make that decision myself on what was best for me. (And trust me, I begged and pleaded for him to not do this again. “It’s like 2005 all over again,” I cried hysterically into the phone. “It is and it isn’t,” he says.)
“Are you going to love me always?” I ask later. “You’re a piece of my heart,” he responds.
(This time, unlike other times, all of this is verbatim from texts and comments spanning the Internet. Memories are rotten bastards but at least this time around I have primary sources to back me up.)
I’m as equal as anyone in what went down, but, when I’m at the lowest point of my life, to leave? Again? (To be brutally fair, despite my anger at him leaving, he couldn’t take the back and forth. “We’re always on pause,” he says. “I wait for you. It’s what I do,” he says. But it just hurts beyond human reasoning he leaves when I am at rock bottom. I am no angle in this world of ours, and I get that. But that doesn’t make it any less painful when he said goodbye on the phone.)
I’m a hot mess and also human. In the past I’ve bent the truth, I’ve blown things out of proportions, I’ve been a bitch. I’ve had my share of moments. Life is a fucking chaotic mess. Nothing is black and white. There are blurred lines everywhere. I’m constantly at war with my own self-esteem.
There is never someone who isn’t as in touch with their foils, foibles, and feelings like yours truly. Jesus fuck, I’ve been examining the human psyche via my own life for years.
It’s intoxicating being told you are the love of someone’s life and in the case of TheBassist, to reply that was true from me as well. But what does that mean in the long run? Do you cut your losses when shit hits the fan? Do you work through the shit? Why aren’t there any concrete answers?
I’m in love with love, and I freely admit it. Who doesn’t want that kind of intoxication? And I’m more in love with TheBassist than in love itself. Fucking bastard. He of the big words, lightening intelligence, and fabulous hair.
(I am not terribly surprised my comment from above, “I’m not sure how much I’m going to reveal at this juncture,” turned out not to be true.)
I want to take responsibility for my own actions. I want to see clear-eyed for the future to really think about what it means to be in love, whether TheBassist and I end up working shit out or not. Because if he asked me to, I would do it all over again.
I want to feel to be the center of someone’s world. I want them to be there when shit hits the fan and when I laugh as they drive around cloverleafs because that simple act makes me happy. I want my own life and be the part of someone’s life. And even when I am at my lowest, I won’t stop believing that such a love exists.
And if it’s not him, and someone else comes along (much) later on, I will still take that chance, foolish me, to give it 1000% and to love big. Love large. And when my heart gets broken, again, I’ll pick myself up and do it all over again.
Here are my mediations on love. Die trying.
I still believe in love, so fuck you.
xoxo,
Lisa

This Day in Lisa-Universe: 2013, 2010, 2003, 2003, 2001, 1998

International diss Lisa day

Someone emailed me politely about my lack of lj-cut skills *koff* and I went through and cleaned up the last month or so of entries. They are all nice and neat behind lj-cut. When I told another person what i had done, they told me they were thinking of removing me because of my recent straying from using the lj-cut foo. In so far as the verbosity, well, if you can’t deal with all the posts, either remove me or create a Lisa filter. I’m not cutting down on number of posts per day because someone doesn’t like it.
I had forgotten that it was Danny’s birthday yesterday. He got on Yahoo! before I left to go tutor with the Literacy Council tonight and I asked him if he wanted to hang out tonight to celebrate his birthday.
He said “Well, South Park is on.”
“I get home at 6-6:30pm and South Park is not on until 10. You’re going ot be busy for four hours?”
“Well, I have shit to do and you have homework.”
“I’m on fall break.”
“Oh.”
If you are going to engage in conversation with me, and I have told you I’m trying to get out the door, do not sit there and play these ‘games’ with my time if you know I’m in a hurry. I asked him out and he was being wishy-washy. I told him I was going to be home between 6-6:30pm, to come over and we’d hang out and do whatever. He said fine.
It’s now going on 9pm, no Danny. Fuck it, I’m tired of his shit and I’m done even attempting to be friends with him.
To make matters worse, when I got to the library today to tutor, my student was not there. I had told her last week that I was going to try to switch our days to Tuesday but I called and told her that we were still on for Wednesday, same bat time, same bat channel. I told her to call my cell to confirm she got the vm. Never called. Checked my home phone last night and no message from her. I just assumed she would be at the library. She wasn’t. I ran all over the damn place looking for her and no phone call or nothing as to why she skipped.
Great.
Earlier today, I was on the phone with the family realtor. We had an appointment today, but I got up so damn late that I called her an hour before our appointment to tell her that we (my brother and I) were not going to show up. I had tried to call Jeff earlier to reschedule We ended up on the phone for hours talking about family and catching up etc. My brother called me at 10:50am (our appointment was for originally at 11am and we live a good 15 minutes from her, not including time to go pick up his ass). He called an additional three times looking for info.
He just called me about our next appointment and I went through what she wanted us to bring to the meeting. She’s like a family friend and she did well by my mom on her house purchase so I feel comfortable doing this. But then I remembered the little incident of what Jeff pulled at the restaurant Saturday with Miguel there and I got really fucking angry. We started screaming and hung up.
I’m not buying a house with my brother. I’m going to try to do this alone.
Fuck. Jeff. I don’t need my 24 year old brother ratting me out and telling my secrets to someone I had not seen for 10 years let alone sit there and tell me in the restaurant that I was being too harsh to his roommate and then turn around and do it to me. He then says — “Well, you do it all the time!” — OH WHEN? WE NEVER SEE EACH OTHER.
Conversations between my ex-Paul and me:
LisaIsAModgirl: http://www.modgirl.net/gallery/bigrig
angrypauly: interesting
LisaIsAModgirl: what?
LisaIsAModgirl: graham says he looks like you
angrypauly: bleh
LisaIsAModgirl: pauly
LisaIsAModgirl: i dated him when i was 17!~
angrypauly: mhm
LisaIsAModgirl: till i was 22!
LisaIsAModgirl: You and I have been split up for a year.
angrypauly: mhm
angrypauly: i can still be jealous
LisaIsAModgirl: mhm.
angrypauly: im always jealous of my exs
angrypauly: MINE
angrypauly: hehe
LisaIsAModgirl: :p
angrypauly: i dont share
angrypauly: <- failed kintergarden
LisaIsAModgirl: lol
MEN! ARE! PIGS!

la di da

If you haven’t already checked out this most def comic, I beg you to start reading!
http://www.queenofwands.net/
Thanks to kikikimi for the heads up 😉
Rocked my Modern Cinema mid-term 🙂 Did not do so hot on my astronomy “quiz” (what quiz has 116 points??). How the hell did I miss out on the “why is the earth heliocentric” — jesus. Helios — sun! Hello lisa! earth to lisa!
The irony here is that I thought I aced the astronomy “quiz” and did poorly on my MC quiz. Go figure. 🙂 Had another test in MC today about “Annie Hall” and “The Piano” (good thing I DID watch that movie 😉 and I think I rocked it hard core. I was witty and profound 🙂 The same prof teaching the class is going to teach one next semester on Romeo/Juliet, using movies. Like using the two major versions of the movie (including the one with Leonardo DiCaprio), plus West Side Story, plus “Shakespeare in Love” and a few others. It sounds like an awesome class. So, I’m going to most def sign up for it.
I’m trying to get to lj-comments but as you can see it’s after 3am and my plans to go to bed early were shot to shit. tonight as some things came up. I’m going to be gone all day tomorrow (and seeing Bowling for Soup tomorrow night). Thursday is all day classes and study session with Megan in French. Friday is classes, stopping by to see Pip and show him what I have in mind for the next tat, then home to do homework and laundry. Saturday/Sunday off to mom’s for the weekend. Plus I have insane amounts of homework due so I’ll be working on that in between breaks tomorrow. Ugh. But it feels good to be busy 🙂
So, I’m getting a bit freaked out now about how people are suddenly having this “you are mine” affect towards me. As I reported on Sunday, Danny came by and I invited him to come to the shop on Monday for the piercing, of which he came. But he was making all these remarks that were just — not appropriate. It was like he did NOT hear a damn thing I said to him in early august. It was like — nothing ever happened. I saw Pip raise his eyebrows when he saw Danny walk out behind me when we came out of the booth and then Danny dutifully departed. I dig Pip. I wouldn’t say a lot but I do think he’s hot and he’s interesting. I’m always up for meeting interesting people and I know last time I talked to him a few weeks ago he was in an on and off again relationship. I’m not saying that I’m going to try to rat-a-tat that ass (though we were making lewd comments to each other about it), but I am saying, what if there WAS a chance? I sure as shit don’t want Danny hanging around sniffing because I’ve been there and done that not only got a tshirt BUT a nipple ring to boot (he bought me my right nipple piercing). I’ve TRIED to make that relationship work and it’s not. We are far too different people. Time to move the fuck on!
Now there is my brother. This is just plan WEIRD, but I think it’s because we are so close. He’s been working weekends to make extra cash along with working normal week day PLUS going to class. Yes, we live only one mile apart and we call/text each other everyday but we haven’t had a chance to get together because I’m always out doing something and he’s at work in the afternoons so when do we hook up? Well the last two days he’s been calling and either I missed his calls but he’s getting — downright PISSY about me not calling him back. It’s. Been. Two. Days. Earlier this summer we didn’t talk for TWO MONTHS due to an argument we had. Tonight as we left Denny’s he gave me a hug (and crushed my right ear– the one with the conch piercing — holy shit did that sting) and he’s like “Call me!” — I’m started bitching about how he acts like it’s been YEARS since we’ve last seen each other. Weird.
Then there is a few guys I know who are sniffing around but it’s like, they get mad if I talk about someone local who I’m interested in or that I went on a date with tiglore last week. Hello. I’m single. I’ve BEEN single for what? nine months now. I make no claims on anyone and why should they make claims with me? Men, take note, if you LIKE a woman, will you PLEASE tell her and stop this childish bs. Lastly, the HouseGuestFromHell. Well! She emailed me this very passive aggressive email today and basically told me in no uncertain terms that the ONLY reason she’s moving back to GR is because of me. WHich I appreciate but.. well read my response:

I will not be used as the sole reason or one of the biggest reason for you to move to grand rapids. I told you from the git go that I plan on moving from here when I graduate from Aquinas in 05 to go to grad school. As much as I like the area, what I want to do is not offered here, period. Grand Rapids is a growing city and there is much to offer but for education, I’m totally limited by my choices to further my education. If you are basing me as being the biggest reason for coming here, than what are you going to do when I leave? While you are one of my oldest and dearest friends, I have started finally to build a social scene here with other people who I can relate to. This is not to disregard your feelings, rather, I am recalling when you came up in July and it was the weekend before my finals and you knew before hand that I was going to be busy and you made it clear to me that you were going to be able to have fun with others other than me, which I was happy for you to do. However, that turned out NOT to be the case and I felt guilty that I had to study and that took away from “you” time. I will not be put in that position because first and foremost, regardless of who I am friends with, my education comes first. I will not bend to the will of others because of this. Period. Yes, I take full responsibility for the pause on the “argument”, on the flip side however, I’ve sent you numerous emails to your home account to never even get an acknowledgement on them. Even though they were mainly tidbits of interest, not once did you acknowledge them. Even when I emailed you about Sarah’s new single, you didn’t even reply, which surprised me. Everything in quotes is from you. Anything quoted inside the quotes is something you quoted from me, to keep it simple on who said what.

“Ok.”it has everything to do with how you treat me.” I need you to elaborate if you can on that. I understand that you are saying that you have an issue with the way I am treating you.. but what way am I treating you.”

My biggest issue right here is how you seem to ask me for advice on anything and then you contradict me/get defensive when I tell you what I know. Let’s start with computers. You call/email/im me about a problem and I tell you what I think it is based on what you tell me. You find alternate information either from someone else or on the web that may contradict what I’m saying and you automatically take that person’s side. It’s fucking annoying and I’m sick of it. Like when the computer guy came to your house to fix your pc and you had me on IM on your other machine and you were relaying stuff back and forth. What the hell was the point of that? ANother instance is when you asked about that townhouse on 60th and Division and I told you that it was Clterville. I also told you that the area was white-trash central, loaded with modular homes, factories, low end trailer parks and the mental hospital was local. You got defensive and said that the advert said it was in Kentwood. You get defensive on everything I say when you ask me for advice on anything, I don’t even know why I bother anymore when you ask because almost all the time you automatically find fault with it.

“I have abandonment issues and this is how they manifest in nme.”

I can no longer believe to be this true with you anymore. You are now 30 and you use this every time you feel remotely threatened by anyone taking me or anything away from you. This has become your automatic response and you either need to get over it, see a shrink or do something because I no longer will take this an the answer as to why you are being cranky.

“Next.. I don’t know what you mean by that I act like martyr. I don’t really know what means and then how it applies to me.”

Your definition of a martyr was right, however, some people act like a martyr to be the center of attention. You do this occasionally. I’m proud of the things you’ve accomplished and how you have raised Marcus but anytime someone happens to you negatively, it’s always the other persons fault, mainly when you end a friendship with someone. It’s always tit-for-tat. If they cross you in anyway regardless sof how trivial it is (like not sending you a card for your birthday or whatever), that person is automatically on your shit list and that person is always at fault. This is how you are a martyr.

“You said that our definitions of friendship are different and that it pains you. I would like to understand how they differ.”

Your definition of friendship was right on and I agree with that, but see my answer above. You do tit-for-tat with your friends and that really REALLY bothers me. It has me walking on a tight rope and I feel like if I do live up to your standards, you’re going to diss me. Regardless for how long we have known each other. I dislike feeling that way. Also, you seem to always have to be /in/ control of the relationship as well. Yes, I know your automatic response is that you have “control” issues, fine, so do i but I at least cut people slack and you don’t do that with me or with anyone in your life that I see. If things don’t go your way, you get into a tizzy with it.

“Ostracized,huh? You feel banished and excluded? I am thinking that I can’t be thinking about this the right way… How in the fuck have I made you feel ostracized? I have come to see you 4 times this year alone. I talk to you all the time and email/im you almost everyday. What am I missing from the picture?”

This is not about you coming to see me, this is about when you and Jeff get together, you two think it’s great fun to make fun of me, from everything from who I sleep with, to my lifestyle choices or you two bring up shit from when we were kids that you seem to think is effing hilarious. Well, I’ve told him and I have told you in the past, I don’t find it funny. I was suicidal throughout highschool and had a fucking hard time coming to grips with myself until my middle twenties. I dislike being teased in a hurtful manner, and while you two may not think it’s “hurtful,” I do. Yah, some stuff is humorous but it just seems that when you are with Jeff or with Danny or whatever, that I am the one who always ALWAYS gets picked on. That’s how I feel oscertized. Also, when you get together with Danny (when he has been around) and/or with Jeff, you always take their side if I’m having an argument with one of them. I’m always made out to be an irrational/crazy/take your pick on how I feel about X subject. I’m tired of it. I’ve told Danny, I’ve told Jeff and now I’m telling you.

“You refusing to pay rent unless I kicked Boobie out of the apartment that you no longer lived in. It was my life and it was my life lesson that I had to learn, but you felt you needed to interject your “pressure” so that the situation would be solved in the way you wanted to solve it.”

I thought we agreed never to bring this up again?

“Lastly, I am so confused on the computer issues paragraph of your email. When did you give me computer advise that I did not take?”

Yes, this was partly in response to when the tech guy came over, but there has been many times when I have told you about XYZ (nothing coming to head here) and you take it with a grain of salt, like you think I’m right, but you’re not sure kind of thing. I don’t MIND helping people with computer help, really, I don’t. I spend a lot of time helping out Jeff and Jeremy, but with them they just accept what I say or they don’t. You are not like that, you are almost argumentative on everything. Not quite, but it feels that way.
From another email:

“I don’t know why you are making this seem like I am by myself on this because you do the same thing. You emailed Miguel and Alan.. and maybe others.. so why the inquisition on understanding why I am doing it?”

The difference s that you are almost too naive when you go looking for people, it is as if you are trying to recreate the past instead of moving forward. Oh, I will admit at times I’m guilty as anyone on doing this as well, but with you it’s almost like an obsession. I admit that yah, it was cool emailing alan and Miguel, but I didn’t expect to hear back from them. It’s like you don’t think about what you are doing when you do this. It’s like you totally expect them to remain the same as they were when you left them and people are dynamic beings, we are not static. You want everything to be what it was in 1987, and it can’t be like that. When you found Mike Knuckles again, that was cool and all, but I had no real desire on seeing him again. I wish him well etc ad nauseam and there are no hard feelings but I have no desire to see/interact with him again as we were never that close and you seemed really REALLY put out that I didn’t want to hang out with him. Same thing with Love, until I made it clear that I wished her no ill will, rather, I had no interest in seeing her. Like with Josh, and with that I was disappointed because I HAD been so close to him up until I moved from GR in 1997. But things change. Right now I’m going through a period of my life where I’m weeding out people who are not being positive for me and not allowing me to grow. Danny got the boot around the same time this argument started and Jeff had his talking to. I DO love you and I think of you as my sister but I really think that there has to be some major changes in our relationship, that while you can always depend on me being there for you and being there for you for the ups/downs, I’m not always going to be local to you. That I will have many other interests and friendships other than with you. That I will always be evolving, and if you can’t see or even contemplate any of this well.. then, I don’t know what else to tell you. Lastly, I dislike your passive aggressive behavior. One minute you are cool with the pause because of life intervening on the other hand, you are telling me that if I don’t respond in a “respectable time period” that you are cutting off our friendship. I understand you have every right to want closure to this and I agree with that, but your choice of wording put me off and I was even MORE hesitant on emailing you to finish this off. I’m not a puppet at your strings and this is EXACTLy what I mean when I say you have control issues you REALLY need to work on.
lisa

i have NO idea

Danny just left and I’m left feeling — strange.
He had IM’d me a few weeks ago about bringing me a present and we finally caught up with each other today and he just left.
Conversation was stilted and polite.
He brought me a Betty Paige sticker and some Powerpuff Girl stuff. He said he had been saving it for my Christmas stash only decided to bring it over now.
My brother called when he was here and when I told him I couldn’t talk because Danny was here, my brother called me “weak” — in which case I hung up the phone.
Danny guessed correctly what I was getting done tomorrow and he might stop up at the shop.
I have no idea what this means or how I feel.
Other than I was screaming like a maniac when I was cleaning out my conch piercing and jesus christ, I’m NEVER bearing children. 🙂
I’m going to keep with the axiom that it’s always good to expand ones circles of friends.

Interesting

I haven’t heard from Danny since I wrote this nearly two months ago. Not one word, one peep, a phone call or anything of the kind. Mutual friends have asked where he was and I ixnayed that he was a dork of the biggest variety and needed his nuts kicked in. Maybe it was all the alcohol talking at the time? Who knows.
He just IM’d me he wants to come over and give me a present. I’m all for surprises but you know, now I’m like, nervous.
Why does he want to see me and what could he possibly say that could make me change my mind?

There is a new sherrif in town

If I had a gun right now, I’d be blowing the smoke away from the barrel but since I don’t have a gun, we’ll just pretend.
The one thing I recognized about myself when I moved on my own is that I have huge issues with standing up to people I like/love/whatever. People I don’t know I can talk smack all day long but this fucking catholic guilt (as in, left over from my youth, not a recent addition thanks), makes me feel terrible when I voice my opinion on something. My mouth is what made me so er, popular with UUnet and why most people were uh, cautious of my mouth. But I have big problems with sticking up for myself, especially in matters that I think it will count in.
With that being said, I took what greentara said about HGFH being passive aggressive and spent most of the day thinking about this subject. I came to a few conclusions.

  1. I would rather be alone for the right reasons than friends (platonic or intimate) with someone for the wrong reasons. Case in point, HGFH, my brother and Danny.
  2. I will no longer be someones whipping girl.
  3.  I will no longer back down when someone attempts to correct me and tell me i’m ‘wrong’ or ‘crazy’.

For the better part of my adult life, I realised that those who were close to me (sic) where the ones who often said I was wrong, crazy, or completely off base on everything from how I treat my dogs, to how I wear and what I wear to purchases. It didn’t matter what it was, but I was always wrong and my decisions on everything were always knocked down. I whipped my brother into shape and then I took Danny on and finally HGFH also got some coming to her too. She accused me in a few recent emails of “interrogating her” causing her “humiliation” and “embarrassment” but you know, that’s not how i see it at all. I see it as standing up for myself and if she still wants to me a ‘friend’ when the dust settles and the gun is back in my holster, we’ll see. But chances are, when she gets that email, she’s gonna be upset, and unlike before, I’m not afraid of what her reasons are going to be.

the end of the part time girlfriend

danny and i have been doing this ‘dance’ for seven years. yes, seven long years between cross country moves, boyfriends, girlfriends and what not and we always end up back ‘together’. This time around, for the last 8 months we’ve been vaguely seeing each other (if seeing each other once a week is being vague). We’ve only had sex less than a handful of times but it has been within the recent month or so that things began to gnaw at me. I realised that for all of the things I loved about him, there were all these things that I didn’t and I had wavered back and forth about this for the last few weeks.
Now to be fair, he knows that i had put personals ads up, but even then i still didn’t feel like i was ‘cheating on him’ because we are not together. But I was tired of being this convenience for him on friday and saturday nights and he has this IRRITATING as fuck habit of “danny would you like to go out with me” and him saying maybe. I DETEST PEOPLE WHO DO THAT. He went so far as last weekend as saying I was being desperate for the big get together we did. Not desperate that I couldn’t get another date but desperate if i wanted him.
All week I’ve raged with this internal war deciding what is it that I want and what is it that I wanted from him and what the fuck was this shit anyways. Two people who I spoke to about said that it was a comfort issue — he was comfortable and I had to hold back myself because I too could see this as well.
Other things began to emerge the more I thought. I was his dirty little secret. I was okay to prance around in public with major pda going on or to friends who knew both of us, but in the eight months together did he not once come to me and invite ME to go out with him and his friends. I haven’t even been to house save ONCE in the last eight months due to his exgf living there who hates my guts because she knew that he was/is in love with me. Even when they were together. She doesn’t even KNOW i’m back in GR. His life is like this proverbial soap opera and I decided, I wanted to be killed off or made the main character. This recurring bit part was killing me.
Due to my lack of internet issues, I emailed him and told him to call my cell to let me know when he was coming over. I had fallen asleep on the couch listening to “Helen of Troy” on tivo when I heard someone at the door. I was groggy from three hours of sleep from last night when I had answered and it was him. We sat on my couch for awhile watching the movie and I finally got up and changed to go out. He was, as par usual, indecisive about what to do. We ran a few errands and eventually he gave me a tour about him growing up in the city. We drove all over GR and we stopped at a few cemeteries and I walked around amazed at all the dates on the stones. I said “Lets drive to Holland or Grand Haven and watch the sun set.” He said “No, my eyes will be blinded the whole drive there.” I replied “Let me drive.” He sort of shook his head. As we were driving back towards my general area, he took a different route that lead to Holland. It also went by my house. I played this game with myself to see if he would get off at my exit, and he did. I lost. He told me he wasn’t feeling well and I hadn’t been feeling all that great either but I didn’t want the evening to end just yet. As he pulled into my parking lot, suddenly I was like a bat out of hell trying to gather my things to get the fuck out of his car. He had unbuckled his seatbelt and pulled me over into this hug that was like something an aunt or a long lost cousin would give you. I hate those kind of hugs. I pulled away and as I did so he leaned over and kissed me gently on the cheek. He pulled back and asked me what was wrong and I sat there staring out of his grimey windshield not sure on what to say. I invited him upstairs. He declined saying he wanted to go home and shower and relax. I told him he could stay the night and chill with me and again he declined. He then asked me what was wrong and this whole time I kept staring out that fucking windshield. He put the car in park and my door was wide open and my bag was on the ground and I had my right foot planted squarely next to it. I debated on saying what i was feeling and finally I did.
“I’m tired of being your part time girlfriend”.
He gave all these excuses and I just sat there shaking my head. I am tired of being your friday night/saturday night convenience. I work all week he says and added that we go out on the week too (Once, in the last six months, that was last week). I corrected him on that. He said what do you want, I said, I want you and I don’t know if you want me back but I can’t go on like this. I don’t want to be JUST your part-time girlfriend. I listed a few more things.
All he said was “It’s my fault. I’m sorry.”
No agreement no lets talk about it, just, “I’m sorry.”
I mumbled see you later and hopped out of the car, slamming the door behind me. I heard him pull his car back and I thought “maybe he’s parking and he’ll come up to talk to me.” So I walked into my apartment and dropped my stuff on the kitchen counter and waited. I took deep breaths waiting for that door to bang but it never happened. I grabbed my garbage to go out and walked back outside, hoping I’d see him walking towards me. As I crossed the parking lot, I scanned the area looking for his car.
It wasn’t there.

nightly thoughts

One of my biggest pet peeves is people who lack motivation and determination. Nihilists, if you will. I can’t fathom or begin to fathom this attitude of “OH! WOE IS ME!” candor that seems to be sneaking around lately.
Case in my point, my ex Danny.
Danny is a jack of all trades kind of guy. He’s artistic (he’s a painter, creates wonderful things with chainmail and metal in general), he’s smart, he knows things. He’s got interests in EVERYTHING. He’s got a lot of talent in a lot of different areas and he just seems to UGH not want to do things. For instance, he’s had my grandmothers rocking chair for YEARS and has plans to sand it down, revarnish, paint and put it back together for me. This started when I was living in SF, to give you a clue how long he’s had this project. But he’s also completely remodelling his house (which is also admirable), so I haven’t been too pressed about it.
He’s also heavily tattooed, pierced in the right places (wink wink), bald , and hella cute. Smells damn good too.

Lisa and Danny, 2003.
Lisa and Danny, 2003.

He knows he lacks motivation and determination. He knows how I feel about this. I would have married him YEARS ago if it weren’t for this (and well a few other issues as well but those are relatively minor) and he knows that as well. Like tonight we were sitting at Don Pablo’s for dinner and he was telling me about this FANTABULOUS idea he has and I’m like DUDE, run with it. He refused. But I know him and so he said himself, projects that become well, PROJECTS take the fun out of it. We need to work on that some more.
But he’s not the only one.
A mailing list I’m on dedicated local pagans (well you know, gotta hang out with the freaks) has been heavy with discussion about people being laid off and yadda yadda, and it’s not that that bothers me, I know many who have been laid off but the lack of doing something ABOUT IT irritates the hell out of me. They placed the blame on everything but themselves and seem to lack resources to want to figure something out. My motto has always been “If there is a will, there is a way!” and it’s not just about getting help from others but shit, I’ve always pulled myself up by my own bootstraps and figured shit out. These people JUST DO NOT GET IT (not danny, he gets it, the ones on the mailing list). One girl started whining about how she could not afford college for her kids (She’s like, 21 if i remember) and I wrote this pithy piece on yes, funding is available and listed alternatives to college such as CC’s and used kethryvis as an example of someone who went in with an ultra low GPA and came out a fucking winner. I also used my gf Shelly as an example of someone who is interested in trade school to make a better living for themselves. I just can’t deal with this I’m so BLAH attitude. Paul had it too, I wanted to beat him senseless with my platform flipflop and that is ONE of the major reasons why I can’t deal with people. People asking for help should FIRST find help themselves for anything. Fuck, the internet is a WONDERFUL place and just sitting there with their thumb up their ass kills me.
So there you have it.
Picked up a few more Terry Pratchett books tonight. I can’t slug through HP:OOP again. I was about to beat Harry up the first go around. This is the worse of her five books BY FAR! Some guy at Best Buy when I was dropping off my piece of shit kodak camera (old one, not the new one) to get repaired, commented on my Grover tshirt. Couldn’t tell if he was flirting with me, it’s been too damn long since anyone has (at leas, f2f).
Still simmering about my prof’s comment from earlier. Drowned myself in Animal Crossing tonight and am about ready to go to bed (Yes, it’s 5:18am. Fuck off. I have coffee in the morning). Project due for my creative writing class on Saturday (last class of the summer). Sent in loan shit for this upcoming school year (totally paid for, not a cent out of my own pocket until I graduate in 15 trillion years). Went to the tattoo shop tonight and showed them what I’ve done with the website so far (just a splash page while I work on the back end stuff). Am relearning things and teaching myself new things. But they are very happy with it so far, which rocks. Now DEATH is paid for and future work will go towards new tattoos! woopie!
I’m audi 5000 g.

volvo driving soccer mom

the ONLY reason why this is private is because i gots an email from coffeeshoboy. Apparently Beth, the wife owner of $Coffeeshoptobenamed said that Dave, husband-owner, said something to the effect that how you can’t “Change people” and how I didn’t fit the image they wanted. I know of a couple of instances where this might come into play, like I fixed his computer for him? Heh. Several times. Their POS pos is really a POS.
I have to learn to let go. There are MANY things in my life that do not resolve and it bothers me and I just need to let go.
But i’m glad he still emailed if anything I’m going to go see his band this weekend, with Danny, so no pressure there.
I found out that one of my best friends locally has been diagnoised with narcolepsy, which, it’s been freaking her her husband and her kids out. Since I’m free during the day she and I have been hanging out at bookstores, coffeeshops and tomorrow we are meeting for breakfast. I feel like such a soccer mom. minus the volvo, kids and gear. Though lately i’m into this whole skrit and flipflop thing.
who knew?