Love – Page 2 – A Most Unreliable Narrator

damn you, Freud!

I’m blaming Freud for all my ill will right now, even though he is indirectly related. If he hadn’t come up with the cockamamie scheme of psychoanalysis, and if his children hadn’t spawned it, it would not have been part of my Intro To Lit Theory class that I had to take this past semester.
I can still see the textbook, flipped open to that page, discussing how individuals who tend to change things about themselves rather frequently have this: unstable sense of self.
In short, they have no idea who the hell they are!
Sound familiar?
It’s been the anathema of my life, really. (Would have you know that it pays to look up words that you are not sure the spelling of. I almost had “anthema” — which means to blossom. Amazing what one little letter does.)
It’s days like this that I need to take stock on what and who I am. So
let’s begin:

I’m 31.
I have my own apartment, stocked full of materialistic goodies.
Brand new 04 car.
Two pugs.
Family that loves me (even when they get on my nerves).
Exes who come and go out of my life, but overall general good relations.
I have 90/60 blood pressure, all my own teeth, hair is not greying and I’ve lost 30lbs this year.
Never been to prison, have my GED, going to colleg,e and tend to keep myself out of trouble.
Friends, far and wide, who love me.

So why, then, am I not happy?
I’m on this middle ground and it’s driving me crazy! Of course. On one hand, all of my friends (real and virtual) are shacking up and getting married, having babies and of COURSE I am happy for them. But. I’ve been down that road before and it’s not really something I care to get into again. I’ve lived with enough men, had enough proposals and what not for any woman in her own lifetime.
Yet there is this underlying and unquenchable thirst to NEED. But what is it that I need?
What. Is. It. That. I. Need. To. Make. Me. Happy.
I found that my own paradigm of thought was more different than others this year during classes. I did just as well as some of the best students but the train of thought that I would follow was never the same as the others. At first this disturbed me, because I thought I was wrong (if you are not following the herd, then you must be — right?) Later, as the grades start pouring in and I was doing just as well as they were, I realised I was right to continue on this path. But my path was different and while I embraced the difference, it felt like it was reflecting really my life as a whole.
Because I’ve never, ever, done anything by the book.
As you already may know.
2003 was about looking for who I was, to dismiss everything that made me feel icky and take me by the horns. I needed to heal and I needed to get my shit together, and consciously I did that. I made concrete decisions and found out WHO I was, after all this time. I took chances that I would have never taken before and I resisted things that I knew would end up
hurting me. Most of this, of course, resulted in my choices of men. I was no longer going to date someone simply because they were interested in me, rather, I was going to make sure that I was interested in them. Also, I was not going to allow myself to make decisions based on my loins either. Which was difficult to do.
So who is Lisa?
This is ironic, but, I was watching Charmed a few weeks back (via Tivo, of course) and one of the minor characters said to Phoebe (one of the major ones, if you don’t watch it) that so many women of her generation wanted to be independent and have careers, and when it came down to it, they were finding themselves in their 40s and 50s, alone. Not sharing their success with anyone because no one was around. That saddened me, because that was the life (or one of the lives) I had predicted for myself. I was (and to an extent) so thoroughly tired of relationships, I wanted nothing more than to be alone. But that is not working out EITHER, as I have discovered.
Another really cheesy thing I had read somewhere, was how if you spend so much time looking for yourself, you end up losing yourself. Life is in the here and now, and with that I do agree. This is why I dismiss most of the crackpot shrinks, drugs and what not, because I’ve been following their plan for the last 20 years and where did it get me? Bwahahah! More confused than ever!
But what it is about ‘me’ that is so uniquely different than everyone else? Oh, I know the old saying “You’re different than everyone else” but, I can’t keep feeling that somehow I’m ‘more different’ than those other unique people. I’m not sure if it is because they found someone to be happy with, or what the case is, but you know, this shit is for the birds!
I’m a lot stronger than I was a year ago. I’m a lot more positive and yes, in many aspects I’m happier, a lot happier. But the bottom line is, there is still something missing that needs to make me fulfilled and I really, REALLY wish I knew what that was.
x0x0x
Lisa
ps: I dismiss the crackpot theory about the unstable sense of self, because like most theories, it tends to generalize and not be concrete.

Daniel Cleaver

We all have a Daniel Cleaver in our life. The one person who we will fling ourselves at and we think that we are in love with, blinded by how they treat us because of how we feel for them and that we will save them no matter what, even when they treat us like shit. We refuse to see that till sometimes it’s almost too late. Then something amazing happens and the breakup is painful and you physically feel like you are dying.
Well, my DC has just dropped me an e-mail.
I’ve discussed the relationship I had with DC in the past, in very detailed length including letters between he and I, written many years ago. I don’t ever want to be in that position again, ever. I don’t want to think and trick myself into thinking he was so beautiful when he really wasn’t or making myself believe that he was in as deep like with me as I was with him. I painted this rosey picture in my head he was PERFCT and I can’t imagine wanting to be back there ever again.
Part of the problem is that I crave being back at that particular space, that intensity, the lust, the passion. Everything. It is still what I search for NOW but under different terms and under different conditions. But I still seek it out, looking for it and now instead of throwing my cards on the table, i hold them close to me to see if I can truly bluff my way through. Things aren’t so easy and free anymore like they used to be. That much has changed and that is most importantly the right thing to have changed.
An ex-coworker emailed me recently and basically laid down the bluntness that he thought he and I were or was going to ‘get it on’ or something when I was living in VA (i’m paraphrasing) and ben said something to me about in the realm about how the whole world has a crush on me. I laughed because arrogantly it’s never been the lack of someone wanting me fat or thin. Men are a dime a dozen but Mr. Darcy? He’s somewhere out there and I am not settling for Daniel Cleaver anymore, which I keep doing. But this guy, he’s the king of all Daniel Cleavers.
I don’t honestly know why he emailed me. I don’t know why my excoworker decided to tell me NOW that he had a crush on me (not that I would have acted on it). I don’t know why guys i like never like me back as much as I like them or the ones that broke my heart want to keep in touch with me. I don’t know why I can’t like the ones who like me and I don’t know why fifty million things.
The last few days have been weird and strange.
I will end this, with as always, Sarah Mclachlan!
(but of course)
Wait
Under a blackened sky
far beyond the glaring streetlights
sleeping on empty dreams
the vultures lie in wait.
You lay down beside me then
you were with me every waking hour
so close I could feel your breath.
When all we wanted was the dream
to have and to hold
that precious little thing
like every generation yields
the new born hope unjaded by the years.
Pressed up against the glass
I found myself wanting sympathy
but to be consumed again
oh I know would be the death of me
and there is a love that’s inherently given
a kind of blindness offered to deceive
and in that light of forbidden joy
oh I know I won’t receive it.
When all we wanted was the dream
to have and to hold
that precious little thing
like every generation yields
the newborn hope unjaded by their years.
You know if I leave you now
it doesn’t mean I love you any less
its just the state I’m in
I can’t be good to anyone else like this.
When all we wanted was the dream
to have and to hold
that precious little thing
like every generation yields
the newborn hope unjaded by their years…
Yes bro, he IS so beautiful 😮

love songs for no one

i’m not depressed.
i’m not terribly upset about anything in particular.
I have my juicy tubes lipgloss, roof over my head, bills are paid and my own bed to sleep in.
i don’t miss anyone in particular as far as the exes go, and while I get a twinge once in a while about it and send them off with a letter, I guess out of sight is really out of mind.
So someone please explain to me why I sat in my car, in my apartment parking lot crying today?
Because really I have no idea.
I realised the other night while watching the movie “Improptu” and I got this huge rush of feeling of freedom. Like YAY Baby, climb every mountain, scour every sea, I am every woman and I bring home the bacon, etc, and I felt this intense freedom! Like I was on the edge of my seat kind of thing (literally my knees were pushed up against the coffee table). I was in complete and utter control of myself.
But then tonight it came crashing down, and I had to suffer another round of classes of people making fun of me because they are iditiotic neophytes and I’m bleeding edge gadget guru. I read too much, I own too much shit, I read too much I am TOO FUCKING MUCH XYZ ITEMS.
I’m tired of being alone.
Just hurry up and get here.

please forgive me

Please forgive me
If I act a little strange
For I know not what I do.
Feels like lightning running through my veins
Everytime I look at you
I SHOULD be working on a paper that is due today, i NEED to finish packing and instead i keep thinking about things that i shouldn’t be thinking about and daydreaming. But hey, i actually got holiday cards out BEFORE THE HOLIDAY so i must be doing something right.
Two main themes keep running through my head and that is: the holidays and love. they seem to be pretty intertwined these days and it doesn’t help that i hole myself up in my bedroom watching chick-flicks when I need a picker upper (exactly what a i need a pick me up from is anyones guess). I could watch Bridget Jones’ Diary 1500 times and I’ll still get mushy knees thinking about the look Colin Firth gives her at the end of the movie.
As we all know, and if you don’t you will now, i hate the holidays, sometimes with the passion that makes others nervous. Without fail something always happens around Christmas time that makes me want to go chop off the heads of the carolers as they come singing about god, Jesus and love. Christmas when I was a child used to be great. I come from a large family (my mother is the eldest of 7, and I’m the middle grandchild of nine) and including extended relatives, we had a good old fashioned German Christmas everywhere.
[The images are not scanned in well, I’ll fix that later]
Christmas 1975
Christmas 1979
14′ high ceilings with 12′ high trees, that were decorated with ornaments my mom had collected over the years. Me and the infallible teddy bear. That one in the picture died shortly after that was taken when I got sick on him. A new one was dispatched and replaced and he still sits quitely by my bed and I still often sleep with him. But I am digressing.
Christmas and love. Love and Christmas.
Christmas 1992: After dating for nearly a year, I find out that Alan has been dating another woman and breaks up with me after Christmas dinner at his brothers house. I would have died for this man. I haven’t been able to say that about anyone since.
Christmas 1994: Shortly before exams, I slip on ice outside my parents house, I suffer double fracture and a dislocated ankle:
outside angle
inside angle
Christmas 1996:My grandfather dies on 12/23/96. I spent Christmas day driving to his funeral and being harangued by my cousins.
Christmas 1999: Spent solitary.
Christmas 2000: Spent in Miami. There is something not right about 80 degree weather on Christmas day.
Christmas 2002: ?
Love and Christmas. Christmas and Love.
This year I decided I wasn’t going to be the grump I usually am come October and thought I’d get into the holiday spirit. I’m TRYING to get into the holiday spirit and it’s getting a bit distracting because it’s not quite going that way. Here we are 14 days before the holiday and nothing is what it’s supposed to be at this time. I’ve told Paul over and over that my gift to him would be a ticket back to Miami for the holidays and i’ve been waiting for him to get on the phone to find out when to schedule this little trip and he has yet to do it. I know that it will end up with him screaming at me about how it didn’t work out and etc etc etc. But I don’t want to talk about that either.
So every year I keep revisiting the old journals and looking at what I’ve written and one thing I can say about myself is that I am consistent in my opinions on a lot of things, but the one thing that really bothers me above anything else is I keep apologizing for who I am. It’s thinly veiled some days and others it’s in your face, but no matter what, I’m always questioning who and what I am as if this would somehow make things better.
I’m sorry I’m loud. I’m sorry I’m obnoxious. I’m sorry I’m smarter than you, wittier than you and TALLER than you (unless you are taller than me). I’m sorry my life is in a constant flux. I’m sorry I’m not blonde, blue eyed or a size 4. I’m sorry that I snort when I laugh, that I am not afraid to eat in front of people, that i twirl my hair, make faces constantly or collect toys. I’m sorry I like sex, I’m not afraid to discuss it and that I’m not afraid to try with relationships even if i keep failing over and over. I’m sorry I’m pushy, demonstrative and aggressive. I’m sorry that I flip switches and push buttons on and off like a light and that I constantly ask why. I’m sorry I have this journal and that if you get involved with my that your life would be published online. I’m sorry for the exhibition streak and the wanderlust streak and the NEED TO ACHIEVE streak. I’m sorry I’m obsessive and compulsive and that I’m passionate. I’m sorry I don’t want to lay down and bare your babies right this minute and be your little haus frau. I’m sorry that the ideas that sounded good 5 years ago, 2 years ago, 1 year ago cause shudders down my spine.
Yes yes, men are shit, women are stupid whores and the world goes on. I’m sorry I don’t want to buy into that self-effacing bullshit and use walls to protect myself. I just keep trucking on, because you know, life is far too short to wear beige and play the games of walls and the whole “i don’t want to get hurt” bull. You never know till you try, and trust me, I keep trying and I suspect one of these days I might get it right.
I’m sorry for everything and anything.
When I was on the drugs, I was happy not to think these thoughts. I was happy that life was going in the direction it was going in and I was content on feeling nothing. Now I’m off the drugs and I feel everything. I cry during movies and when things happen. I daydream so much that i am beginning to hate taking showers or baths because I’m in there for hours thinking about everything and anything.
I just never saw the point of wasting your life on nothing when there is something. I’m tired of being the half-truth and the interim. when will it be my turn?
x0x0x0x
But how many corners do I have to turn?
How many times do I have to learn
All the love I have is in my mind?
thanks to sarah mclachlan, david gray, and of course the incomparable richard ashcroft and the lonly choir mp3 i happened to have.

predictions and journals

at the end of every relationship, it’s the same thing: the predictions. the ending of who is going to be doing what when how and whom and when this is all going to happen.
I predict that Paul will be dating again in a few months, and probably getting close to someone shortly after that. He cannot be alone, period. He will not mourn the end of our relationship or mourn me, and hence why I’ve been doubly amused to find out that the vultures were already tap dancing around my grave thanks to Paul telling me.
Paul perdicts I’ll end up w/ either Ben or Danny. Ben because he’s new, european, tall etc ad nasuam and Danny because he’s history and apparently my eyes get big as saucers when I talk abotu either one of them. I apparently can make no choices of my own .

the sun also rises

I’ve never claimed to be the master of personal relationships and never claimed to understand it all. But I am irritated by human behavior and the more it goes on the worse it gets. I am becoming thoroughly convinced that I pissed off a lot of gods in previous lives to deserve this.
Why do people take sides when they only know of one side of the story? It seems that when I left UUNet, which was on amicable terms with both my managers and upper management, that was not in fact what the peons were saying. Rumours of my demise were running rampart even when my body wasn’t cold. Secondly, people who claimed were my ‘friends’ and even sent me emails with contact information to contact them privately stop responding to emails when I asked them how things were going. One of my coworkers spewed me a bunch of BS and wouldn’t answer any of my questions as to why he wouldn’t meet me when I got to the building on the day to pick up my stuff. None of it made sense.
I hadn’t done anything wrong. I left a job due to a lot of reasons, none of which no one has bothered to ask me about other than a minute group of people. Upper management even wanted me to stay giving me options to stay, which I refused. Even Paul was too wrapped up in his own life to be bothered to ask. Everything was okay as long as I was employed, but since I no longer am, then the lot be damned and I’m cast out of the stone.
I know that there seems to be types of people who don’t like me, and I’ve come to realise over the years that I’ll never please everyone nor will I ever be liked by everyone i meet. I’ve always been okay with that. Always. But apparently this can’t be so.
But it seems that the general consensus of why people don’t like me is that I’m apparently abrasive, rude, aggressive (not assertive, but aggressive) and confrontational. I’ve also heard vindictive and backstabbing, which is funny because no one can actually point out a vindictive or a particularly backstabbing event. Because I have asked you see, it’s just my behavior seems to reflect that. Apparently, I’m predictable.
So I am bewildered as to why people who know me so little and yet have chosen to take sides. I saw my friends list at livejournal.com drop down a few notches within the last few days but I expected that. The thing was I expected that people would own up to their own opinions, but apparently they cannot, that is too difficult and probably a too mature of a thing to do.
When Paul and I moved to NoVa, we took a core group of people we met and expanded it via website and mailing lists, to bring in like minded people like ourselves and get to know them. We have spent thousands of dollars in the last few years throwing parties and sponsoring events. For my 30th birthday alone, the bar tab ran to nearly 1k, which I paid for out of my own pocket. People felt fine to drink my alcohol and eat my food but yet in the three years we have been here, I can only count a few and i do mean a few, people who have reciprocated the behavior. It seems we are fine and dandy as long as the alcohol was flowing, but to be invited to their soirees and their get togethers? forget it. They couldn’t be bothered.
One thing i found interesting was that one of the people who knocked me off their livejournal friend list, couldn’t be bothered to answer me out right on why he choose to mock me in the past. Apparently a comment I had said was below par in irc one day and he mentioned it to another group of people on another irc chat room which ended up on a web page. Basically it was him pointing out how appallingly stupid I was. When I asked him about it, he never responded, but he felt that drinking my beer and eating my food at later social events was more than okay and not the least bit stupid at all.
Then we have the paul thing.
You see,Paul and I broke up. Seriously. We are currently living together until i find out which colleges will take me and if I have not heard back, I’m moving in with my brother back in Michigan. It is both cheaper for both of us to live like this, as you see, paul doesn’t have a license or a car and depends on me for rides and basically keeping the house together. Now as for finances go, my trust fund (which is over 1/4 million dollars (Canadian) you nosy bastards) is paying me a stipend every month EQUAL to my pay at UUNet. 2500 hard cold American dollars is transferred into my account on the 15th of every month. There is no need to even speculate that I’m freeloading off of paul, because I made damn sure before I did anything I would have the cash to pull it off. People are already speculating, people also seem to have forgotten that in the three years we have been together, I’ve also acted as a maid/cook/laundress, and chauffeur for his royal highness. Paul apparently thinks that because he washed dishes a few half dozen times in the last 3 years that absolves him of everything. What I have done is, apparently, worth nothing.
Now the reason why I’m bringing this up is apparently Paul has been telling his family ‘something’ (not only his family, but also his little chat buddies who do not know me) — what that something is I do not know but Paul reiterated to me some kind words his family (and friends) apparently said about me which was “Don’t let her walk all over you” apparently referring to the fact that I am going to take him for everything he has. If you have seen our apartment, you would notate that is not necessarily true. It’s looks like IKEA has thrown up in it, a college students wet dream. Paul is keeping most if not all of the furniture and I’m just taking what is mine. The electronics have already been decided on and that was decided on first thing (because fuck you all, that tivo is going with me). Paul also failed to mention about the stipend to them, failed to mention that we got money from the trust every quarter since my father died in 2000. Failed to mention how many times I’ve asked for money to bail us out of something because neither one of us expected this disaster to occur.
Of course he did. For you see, I’m the evil exgirlfriend who no longer wants to be with him, therefore I cannot act like a reasonable adult. I will be vindictive and hurt him. Take all of his money which apparently I’ve already done. I apparently did not have any money of my own, My crappy 50K a year job i held at UUNet paid me nothing you see, nothing at all. All the direct deposits were blank. So, I’m a freeloading gold digging whore. I mean, I am sleeping with half of NoVa (so the story goes) and god knows who else. Apparently I have no feelings and have little regard to anything i have done. I will continue on this destructive behavior until I do, as that is my MO.
I am curious as to wonder what his family would say if i told them how many times paul had raised his hand to me threatening to punch me in the mouth for “angering” him and that i provoked it all because i should have known better. Or was he “only kidding” as he would said later on and he would never really hurt me. Or that when my mom got sick, he told me outright that my place was with him and not with my mothers and she should be shoved into a nursing home and left to fend for herself. “She has family!”, he says, “You should not have to take care of her.”
I gave up caring long ago.
If you are not gonna like me, don’t like me for an actual reason. Don’t like me cos you honestly think I’m this that or then some. If you have a valid reason for dislike, I can say I can respect that. But if you are choosing to take sides in something that you do not know what is going on, you do not know both sides of the story, I never wanted your friendship to begin with. If you wish to know what is going on with my life, the adult thing would be to ask. Do not speculate what i may or may not be doing. Because seeing as I’m the only who DOES know, anything you hear and find out will eventually be wrong.
If you are going to be my friend, you know then REALLY be my friend. Send me e-cards on birthday and holidays. Remember that what my favorite colors are (red/purple). Because I can’t tell you how many people know what my favorite movie is (Gone with the Wind) or that I had started to collect Beatrix Potter books when I was kid and still have them. That I once wanted to go into Astronomy as a career or that I adore movies from the 30s and 40s. Or that the main reason I get obnoxious is to combat being almost painfully shy because as a child I found that I was not heard unless I was loud, living in a household where loud was the norm. Because to be honest I don’t think anyone knows, if that many at all. Or that if i ask questions about something, it’s not to be sarcastic but it’s because I really want to know the answer.
Because it’s all right there you know as I’m a fucking fount of information. All you had to do was ask, and you never did.

alan

I found him after nearly 10 years.
Actually, it was easier than I thought it would be — Shelly has been finding people left and right on classmates.com, and I hadn’t even ever thought to check that out to see if he was listed. Oh boy, today was my lucky day.
And yes I did email him.
backstory: when i was a young lass (now that I’m old and crotchety), i met this guy, named alan, who was the airborne express delivery guy at the place I worked at. Turns out, after I had been working there for about four or five months, alan had the biggest crush on me. Everyone knew it in the store — except yours truly.
We dated and it was — to put it mildly — really intense. It was for me anyways. Alan was the guy who brought the freak out in me — and it was because of him i went and got my nose pierced. Yes, it’s true. Lisa @ 20 wasn’t as bright as Lisa at 29.
Alan and I dated for about six or seven months, and he was — simply put, my life. I lived, breathed, fucked for that man. Everything in my little world was wrapped around his happiness. Then the day after Christmas, 1991, he broke up with me.
We continued seeing each other on the side — you see, he cheated on me with his now-wife, and cheated on his now-wife with me before he got married — our ‘affair’ lasted another 6 months which lead to a blow out of me getting into fisticuffs with her at a bar shortly after my 21st birthday.
I never saw him again.
Alan, heh, I’m laughing now when i think about it, was the end all be all of existence for quite a few years. Last time I saw him was in 1993, and I didn’t date anyone again until 1995. I cried, bled, screamed and tore up because of that man.
See, I don’t know if Alan’s recollection of me is the same of what I have of him. This didn’t actually dawn on me until tonight when I dropped the email to him — thinking maybe i didn’t make that big of impact on him as he did on me. I’m trying not to let wishful thinking get in the way of memory. I remember the really stupid shit — the times when I was strong and I told him to fuck off and he’d show up at my house and we’d fuck for hours. What was it about me that drove him to her? Why wasn’t I good enough for him? All these questions have been burned in my memory — hell, Danny and I talked about this when I was in Grand Rapids. We were discussing about Danny’s reunion and I said “I have no idea what I would do if I ran into Alan again” — and I didn’t. I still don’t. Why does it matter — now, after all these years?
It shouldn’t, right? I mean, my god, look at how my life has changed — look at how much I’ve changed, look at what I’ve accomplished and done with my life with very little to build on.
According to his bio, he’s in the naval reserve now. He’s clean cut and changed — just as I have changed.
Maybe it doesn’t matter if he does respond to me or not — maybe it just matters that I made the first step to getting closure — and maybe he never realized how much he is part of my commitment issues — if only he had been honest.
I’m throwing blame on him, and it’s true. I never could stand for lying cheating and being dishonorable — and he was all three — but that memory, that memory we all carry of our first big love that burns into our hearts and changes us. That memory which we think is buried deep inside us isn’t — it’s always on the surface waiting to get out.
x0x0x
lisa

electric fried eel

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

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

sadness you crave

before i start ranting and raving, you will notice (if you are paying attention) that i have now put the goddamn cam up again. i don’t know what possessed me to do it other than the usb can i had was pissing me off and i had to have a cam again so up went the old greyscale parallel port one. so you get noire lisa — and yes i really am that pale. you will also see the lisa-patented barrette in action. and yes, i do have a nose, but what do you expect from greyscale?
this will also be a very sad and depressing mea culpa type of piece. if you want to be depressed like me, go look at my list of mp3s that i have currently playing. You’ll be tragic in no time.
this entry will be loaded with irony up the ass. and i think if you only the reason why it’s ironic, you’ll get it. but if you don’t get it, then i can’t explain it to you.
hahaha. that’s just fucked up. but it’s true.
so i awoke this morning with a strange sense of depression. it was weird to me, at least, because when i awoke i was lying on my stomach and i could feel the depression embrace me like a bird flying overhead. in a sense it’s partly hard to describe, but i just felt it slowly come over me and i got up and called myself silly for being a dumbass. this wasn’t depression like “oh god i just want to go and die, my life is so tragic *backofhand to forehead*”, this was just like, i was sad. just very very sad.
so I’ll begin at the begin.
point a: I’m taken.
point b: I’m taken.
someone once said to me you “you are so very taken!”, and i guess being in serial monogamous relationships for the past 10 years can do that to a person. i used to bitch/moan that i never had a bf in my early 20s and now i can’t remember a time when I didn’t have a boyfriend within the last five years.
one of the aspects of having someone being your bitch is that, well, free sex. and the love and cuddling and all the other shit that comes with relationships, including the arguments and the make-up sex and shit.
so yah, then you can like be single and stuff. and being single can be cool cos you can date whom you want and do what you want and you do not have to answer to anyone but yourself and don’t have to worry about hurting someones feelings. but then there is that empty feeling of being alone and not having someone around when you need someone to talk to, and then you get older and suddenly your 30 and the only thing you’ve accomplished in your life is this black book and list of fuck buddies.
okay maybe that is a bit drastic, but you get my point.
[crank! my dream complete!]
i have musing lately how no one seems interested in me. i know i know, i have pauly and i shouldn’t worry about it, but the thing is, as a human, I WANT TO BE ADORED! i want to be worshipped from the ground level on up — but the thing is, I’m taken and i should be very happy that i have someone who adores me, but deep down i know it’s not enough.
i bitch to my friends that it’s always about how I’m treated as pauls other half and as one of the guys, I’m not treated like a person or even better yet, a female. to be honest, that hurts more than anything. i feel sometimes asexual and with no feelings because the only person who seems to appreciate me for being attractive to their eyes is my own bf.
Don’t start picking apart at my logic, cos it will gets you none :]
moving right along, i have guys i flirt with but there is always that very very safe assurance that nothing is every going to happen anywhere along the way. like my friends rob and moe. we flirt all the time and it basically means nothing because we’ve gone from that line of friends to brother and sister. sleeping with them would be like sleeping with your sibling, and i am not from Alabama, so lisa isn’t going there.
Saturday night Ivette and i got all dressed up to drive to Baltimore to see my friend mandyplay with his band at some rinky dinky bar in Fells Point (like 25 people would have been overcrowded for this joint — that’s how small it was). It was a hard won fight with paul to go out that night, mainly because of his age and his lack of driving skills, we haven’t done much of anything since we’ve been to VA — and I’m really hoping that will all change when he turns 21.
So Ivette and i dressed up in bar clothes, not knowing what kind of bar this was, and well, we were overdressed, however, since it was fun to dress up for something other than a special occasion, i didn’t care. Now, mandy pandy is a long standing friend of mine that i met via TLC (go figure — he’s a fan of my site and I’m a fan of his music — much ego stroking here) and we started talking on AOL IM back in the day and he was fun to flirt with, and we had swapped pictures of each other and spoke on the phone and the whole nine yards. I like Mandy because not only was he witty and got my bad jokes, he had the same music tastes as I do (everything Brit baby!). Since Mandy was also from Miami, I wanted him and Paul to meet because I wanted Mandy to fall into the Moe/Rob categories where I could flirt with them and have nothing be taken seriously. I wanted to do things with Mandy without Paul getting into that obessive/jealous category. I just wanted some freaking FRIENDS goddamnit, that were mine and not pauls and mine and not work related. And yah, it felt good to have someone think of me as being attractive.
Silly me to think that.
Being taken and all.
Ivette and I were hanging out at the bar, drinking and watching them warm up before playing and Mandy (as promised) played a few bars of “I wanna be adored” as promised, and I was happy sitting there drinking my sierra Nevada (i had four and was pretty tipsy). Mandy was busy with band stuff so Ivette and I talked about men and other shit, and then the Skydivers played.
Overall, for all the technical problems they had, the set wasn’t half bad — it was pretty good in fact. Mandy and co launched into a full rendition of “I want to be adored” by the stone roses (unrehearsed) and I was so happy I almost started crying (having missed the roses in concert and thusly anything live, even a cover, makes for one happy lisa). After playing the song, Mandy pointed to me and said something like “This one is for you baby!” Shortly after, they finished their hour plus long set, we all headed back into the, what would be called the “green room” and talked.
Something changed — whether it was me or the tension or atmosphere or the fact I kept drinking and chainsmoking, i don’t know what changed. My heart was aching because I had left my cellphone in my car and I knew paul was calling every 15 minutes but on the other hand i wanted to be adored and that is what I came to Baltimore to do.
I went from teasing Mandy to ignoring him and having more fun talking to his bandmates Rand and Mike. It was like I wanted to be adored by Mandy and on the other hand I had a boyfriend and I wasn’t willing to take things any farther than flirting because I valued my relationship too much. But Mandy was pretty much ignoring me and talking to Ivette and whether it was something i blew out of proportion or not, but on the way home I said to Ivette “he was hitting on you, wasn’t he?” and she said “Yes.” I slunked down in my seat and just stared out at the landscape of 95 on the way home to my fiance.
i started beating myself up inside for even thinking those thoughts. For the most part, Paul and I are really happy and I know Paul satiates everything I need, but my own thirst and trouble with being committal drives wedges in us which starts fights, which ends with me curled up in the bed just reading to make the thoughts go away. There are weeks/months that I want the whole happy nine yards with Paul and then i get in moods and I want to fuck shit up.
So i was in a mood to fuck shit up.
Ivette and I waited around like two groupies for them to finish loading mandy’s car. There were talks of grabbing food but by now it was going on 2am and home was over an hour away. If we left at that point, we would be home at 3:30am at the earliest and if we went for food, even later. Paul would be furious and I wasn’t sure how far I wanted to push the line at this point.
[hello frantic frauds of verse.]
Mike dropped us off at my car, in which it was required of Ivette to undo her boot to grab the car key. I jumped in the passenger side, since I had much to drink and drove to meet Mandy back in front of the bar.
When we pulled up in front of Mandy’s car, paul and i were arguing on the phone. He pissed me off so bad i started slamming my StarTec against the dashboard and Mandy just watched wide-eyed. He asked if we were going to go to breakfast with him, and I said no, his royal highness is demanding that I come home now. He said “fine. I’d like to take you two out to dinner some time. ” I said “Who, me and Ivette?” and he said “Yah.” I said “Um, why?” Mandy replied “for no reason, i just want to.” Mandy looked at me and said to call him anytime i needed him and told Ivette to call him too. With that, Ivette pulled a u-ie and we went home.
The car ride, which we were quiet and I was coming down from my drink induced buzz, was interesting. I felt stupid for thinking that getting adored was dumb by someone not your own boyfriend. I was no longer a high schooler looking for the man of her life, I was a 28 year old female preparing to get married to her fiance. I should be fucking happy and given any other person in this situation, they would be fucking happy too.
But I’m not and I don’t know why I suddenly felt sad today.
I of course, being me and all things that are me, woke up this morning with that sadness that just crawled over my skin. I got out of bed and fed Wednesday and thought about it some more. Ivette and I talked about it pretty intensely last night on the way home and she assured me I wasn’t being dumb for being angry and sad at the same time. It is a pretty human concept to want to be loved and adored by others around us. We all want to feel like we are the bomb shit yo.
Thoughts started drifting into my head about this pseudo rejection that had occurred (in my eyes). I hate being rejected by anything, especially men. It does not matter if I want them or not, if they reject me, it hurts my fragile psyche and then starts all the self-doubts that come sliding in (I’m too fat, I’m too aggressive, I’m too this I’m too that).
I hate this shit. It’s so 1986. GAH!
[which you feel is which you are, what you are is beautiful]
I won’t lie and say that a part of me hasn’t entertained the idea of starting something with Mandy if I were single. It has. That’s only human and for me it’s perfectly normal to do the whole “meetsomeoneandlivearelationshipwiththemin30seconds”. But, something always stopped me from even really going to that point. Maybe Paul’s threats of cutting my tits off has something to do with it. I’m not sure.
I know a lot of what I am/have been feeling goes back to that whole shit with Mike Norton back in 1999. When I *assumed* something and Mike rejected me on the play ground in Memphis. That time period takes us back to when Paul got his shit together and finally got the balls to admit he was in love with me, but that is neither here nor there.
I’ve attempted to bring this up with various therapists over the years and the words “responsibility”, “living in a dream world”, “act your age” seem to ring a few bells at this point and time. So they dope me up on 300mg of Effexor and tell me to live a happy and prosperous life.
I’m angry and I can’t explain why I’m angry. I’m sad and I’m pretty sure why I know I’m sad. I feel boxed in and can blame that on a 100 and one different things. Pauls bitching about freethinkers and I wish I had an answer because I know this is only going to keep going on and on.
Paul and I talked tonight and I postponed the wedding till 5/2002. He assured me that we can have the wedding whenever we want and he knows that he doesn’t want to mess with the little girl dreams. I wish I had answers, but only the thoughts of Danny telling me how non-committal I am and how I should just be happy. I’m being overrun by exboyfriends who keep seeing the same pattern and I of course, think I am fine.
not verbatim, but you’ll get the drift – “Why is it that every time something happens, you’ve got to throw up on your goddamn website?” – Jeff Z, another guy I had met via IRC and “assumed” that something was going to happen — got rejected when I was visiting him in Pennsylvania, Christmas 1997.
I’ve got a crack in my heart,
x0x0x0x
lisa