Relationships – Page 4 – A Most Unreliable Narrator

re: don’t shut me out

HGFH emailed me a rather long email and I’m including my response here. Basically I’m sticking to my guns and while I might admit I was a bit harsh I do not apologize for what I said to her in the first email.
With that being said, if you happen to read this, there is a quote about my mothers response to my suicide attempt. What happened was that when I was 17, I attempted suicide with pills only to be found by friends shortly after the attempt. Stomach was pumped etc, the whole nine yards. Upon coming home, my mother responded, “Next time, use knives and not my medicine if you are going to attempt suicide.” My mother has no recollection of this little happening, well happening but it was when the stages of her own disease (depression) were starting to get worse. Who knew 10 years later she herself would attempt suicide? Oh the irony kills me on that one.

First off, my mom got her disability hearing. It’s in September. Good luck to your mom on getting hers quickly as well.
Secondly, my intention, albeit a bit harsh, again was not to inflame, irritate, or embarrass or kill our friendship. It has been basically many months of pent up aggression about how our relationship actually STANDS.
Thirdly, I wanted you to respond. I wanted you to read what I wrote and to respond to it. I have every intention of responding to you, as I’m doing now via email. The one thing I have learned about us is that we seem to clear up better understanding via email than voice or IM simply because we have time to think about what we want to say. I do understand that what you wrote is from the heart and I appreciate that but I don’t think you actually read what I wrote and that bothers me.
This has nothing to do with our ‘friendship’ per se, rather, it has everything to do with how you treat me. This is the key point. I tried to explain to this to you when we were at Applebees because I took you on your word and told you how I felt and you either didn’t get what I was saying, I was not explaining myself clearly enough or something because I could not make you understand just how clearly I felt about how you treat me. I felt like it took great courage for me to tell you to your face and you kind of poo-poo what I said. You did not address anything I asked of you in that email other than about the computer issue. The problem I have with you is that you act like a martyr and that everything revolves around you. It is clear that while you value our friendship your definition of our friendship is different than mine and that pains me. For 17 years I’ve lived under your shadow and I’ve tried to explain to you, many many many times that I am tired of being though of as secondary to everything else. For example, in high school and later when you found other friends to hang out with, you quite often choose to forget about me and hang out with them. Shannon was one and Sherry was another and Love is yet a third. And your retort is that I did the same, but see, that’s how it differs. I never intentionally dissed you until after you dissed me and I can’t tell you how many times this upset me. In later life, yes, you have been there and you know many things about my childhood most people have no clue about (ie: my mothers response to my suicide attempt) and I do appreciate that and in no ways am I shutting you out or keeping tabs about what is more appropriate in terms of help (ie my father dying vs your computer issues). It has everything to do with me standing up for myself and not only to you, but to Jeff and to Danny. Jeff knows that I am upset at you but does not know why. He does not or cares not to understand my anger. While I am very prolific in my writing as you do know, i do not always get the point across until at the very end.
Again, my point is not to disarm our relationship OR to make you go away, I want you to really think about our relationship and really make sure it’s clear that you understand where I am coming from. I have felt that I have lived in being ostracized from you, Jeff and others simply because my way is different than everyone elses choice and I will no longer put up with anyone telling me that what I’m doing is wrong or crazy or anything else. I need for you to really understand that more than anything.
As for the computer issues, I am no longer feeling like I can do computer support for you because you do not listen to what I have to say. While you will say that i am the computer goddess you have fought with me before on doing things simply because even if my way is tried and true, you read something else that differs. If my way is so wrong than I would suggest that you find someone else to do support for you. However, in light of the recent Blaster Worm, I would suggest you download the following:
http://www.microsoft.com/technet/treeview/?url=/technet/security/bulletin/MS03-026.asp
If you have Windows XP, download WinXP 32bit.
If you do not have the blaster worm, then download it anyways and patch yourself up. It will not require you to reboot however, download the following:
This is a FREE (as in no money) virus scanner. It runs everyday and will also do automatic downloads of virus updates for you.
Please do not respond until you’ve read this fully and then email me. I have no intention on ditching you as a friend, rather, I’m asking we take a serious look at our friendship.
Lisa

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.

at the airport

One of the great things about being a geek is the capability of having technology with you on the go. However if I was more of a geek, I’d be sitting here on wireless dialup account instead of, well, not.
The Grand Rapids International airport (GRR) is strange in many ways. First off, the security measures here surpass those of even Dulles (IAD) in Washington. My brother had said to me when he was flying out of GRR to IAD to come visit me last summer about the trials and tribulations he had to go through with security when he was waiting for his flight. I didn’t believe him. How could I? For a metro area of several hundred thousand people, many don’t seem to leave, and it would seem difficult to comprehend the idea that the security at GRR would surpass that of IAD.
I feel more and more out of place when I talk about my travels when in my own mind, I do not do more than go where I want. In my own eyes, the world is so large and I’ve seen so little, it’s hard to distinguish from what is “well traveled” to what is not. I guess it does sound a bit exotic to say I’ve lived in San Francisco, Washington DC, and Toronto and then come back here to good old GRap as the locals call it. Why would I want to come back?
There was a girl I had worked with at the cawfee shop who had said that her world consisted of Kent County and that was it. She had no desire to travel beyond her “bubble” as she called it. She wanted to get married, have babies, and be a mommy. She was all of 18. She had no desire to see the world or explore outside of her bubble. There are those I know who have traveled outside their boundaries physically and could not comprehend what they saw. I mean that here they are, traveling around the state, country or internationally, and disliked it.
Personally, I don’t know what it is. Is it the restlessness that I feel? Which I automatically think that is really screaming of my own lack of commitment. Can I feel comfortable to one day settle down in one place and be happy or even just content? It is difficult for me to say. The Geography of Michigan class that I’m taking currently shows just how diverse Michigan is, at least from a geographical point of view. There is so much to see and do here (as shocking as that may be when taking into heart my thoughts on Michigan and the Midwest in general), that I feel overwhelmed. I haven’t even been any farther than Traverse City and have yet been to the Upper Peninsula, and for being a “local,” to me that is disgraceful.
Because my trip plans for Europe have fallen through, I had been thinking of renting a cottage up in the UP for a week. Just me. The dogs. My laptop and pray-fully, no internet connection. I have found that the more I live alone, the more I like it. I’m more of private person and now I wonder if I will ever really be happy being with someone in a relationship. I think about that part quite a bit, that my own happiness is coming from within, but yet even at that stage, I would never feel comfortable being with someone else. Things like having a family do equate into this, but I do not ever really see someone else as being by side. I’ve honestly thought that if I was not married or in a committed relationship by the time, I was 35, I would end up having IVF kids. Keth and I joke about that now, but the more I look at it, the more I realize just how much of the truth it may be. I’m not scared of this idea, I guess I’ve always thought that it would be better to raise a child alone than in a relationship where it was abusive, and the issue is that it’s becoming clear with my own relationship choices that abuse is all I know. That is not to say that all the relationships I’ve been were abusive, but it all goes back to Alan and when I had for a brief moment in time the “perfect” relationship in my eyes only to have it blown up in my face – all because he had cheated on me.
Danny says I carry extra guilt left over from my Catholic upbringing, and I’m not quite sure that is true. I can see why he would think that but I’m tired of feeling like I have these rigid set of morals and ideas only to find the world shifts too much into the grey pattern area. Most of it conflicting. Like I do consider emotional cheating to be cheating. I cannot abide by the fact that if you are in a relationship that you would have the audacity of wanting to be with someone else. Oh, I know it’s human relations to look and admire attractive people, that’s fine, but when it becomes something else and ends up being more than a fantasy, then it becomes dangerous. Why get married or be with someone if you don’t, truthfully, want to be with them? That’s never made sense to me and those who know me the best would know the agony I went through prior the separation with Paul. It made me numb. I felt nothing other than I did not want to be here and I had to leave and I could never communicate to those just how difficult it was TO leave. The one thing I did resent was the common ideology that if you are not happy, then just leave, that I could pick up and go and no one seemed to take into account that they only knew my side of the story or even better, they knew only what I would tell them. They did not walk in my shoes and they did not seem to understand when I tried to make the situation clear.
I have this sinking suspicion I’ll always be a solitary person, and that discovery has hurt more than anything else. Not that being solitary is bad, but simply that not having someone by my side would hurt. I’ve dreamed of being with someone, this ‘being’ if you will, that would compliment me as I would compliment them. True wuv. So now, I wonder if I feel disillusioned simply because of past experiences or what the deal is. Hope is there, it’s a small flame, and it’s becoming smaller. In the end, I’m tired of a society that is cruel and malicious and I just wish people were nicer to each other, but that wish doesn’t seem to want to work out.
Keth says, maybe I’m looking too hard? She said to me when I was lamenting about this to her fairly recently and I can see why she would say that. If you’ve searched for “something” for over 30 years, it’s very easy to get discouraged but it’s difficult to keep up hope. It’s difficult to feel that there is a light at the end of the tunnel. I know there are many difficulties that I have sustained in my life that have bucked the system. I’ve left high school and went back and got my GED. I went to college, only to leave and come back many years later. Things that professionals say are the hardest to do, I’ve done. Yet I feel no satisfaction from these accomplishments.
($Deity save me from ignorant people. Please. A girl in my Geography of Michigan class asked if we had to know the bedrock type. Hello. Geography. Pay ATTENTION! Another woman compared the term ‘outwash’ (the left over silt from glacier movement) to the leftover drippings of Guinness. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.)

hubris

Not sure where it’s coming from but lately I’ve been feeling this need to be totally anti-social. As in, no communication of any sort to anyone anywhere. Not sure where the ideas are coming from, but they are coming fast and they are coming furious.
I recently wrote a letter of a sort of apology to someone recently. It was spurned on by a series of events I had not known that happened until later and yet I was being used as the measuring stick against said events. The letter had been planned in my head for awhile now (prior to the events) — and while i DO understand that this person and I would most likely never be friends again (and I AM fine with that), I just wanted to get off my chest regardless of the outcome because i still don’t understand how the decline began in the first place.
I bcc’d the letter to three people who were close to that person (and myself) and followed THAT up with a letter of explanation of why I wrote it in the first place. Bottom line, I offered the olive branch and whether or not that person takes it is fine, but I did at least try and that should matter for something. But of course I never heard from the person I emailed it to and of course I did not hear back from any of the three. You’re probably wondering, what did you expect to hear? Well, encouragement? Congratulations? Pat on the head? A stick to fetch? Not. A. Thing.
This isn’t the first time it’s happened either and I suspect it won’t be the last either and I suppose it will be my decision for the future.
When Paul and I broke up, initially back in October, no one really believed me and to be honest, I didn’t really expect them too. It was like I said shortly after that in a missive I had written, that I had to be nearly beaten to a pulp (which he THREATENED but did not DO) before anyone would think about coming to my rescue. Now I’ve let him, and moved 700 miles away. In the last year I’ve made tremendous changes in my life from quitting smoking, to quitting a dead-end job, to leaving an abusive relationship to moving back home to starting back in school and in that time period, of all these changes, of which have been positive, I’d thought I’d get a pat on the back. A congratulations. A job well done for making positive choices. Save for a few stragglers and my brother, there really hasn’t been any. Of the over 100 people on the mailing list and 50 odd freaks on my friends list at LJ and who ever reads my website, I only got less than 1/2 dozen emails from random people saying “Congrats!” “Good luck!’ “Best Wishes!” “Bon Voyage!”

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.

she’s got looks that kill

the setting:
I’m currently sitting on my crappy ass couch in a pair of grey yoga pants + grey tshirt, with all three pugs sleeping on my extended legs. VH1 Classic is on, and right now Motley Crue is rocking out (lita ford was on a few minutes ago and i was rocking out to “kiss me deadly”). It’s 2am.
ROCK YOU LIKE A HURRICANE.
You’re probably wondering “Lisa, why are you sitting in your grey yoga pants watching vh1 classic on a Sunday night at 2am, using Paul’s laptop (which was yours to being with)?”
BECAUSE in the space of a week the following has occurred:

Gas lines were cut and we were without heat or hot water for nearly two days, and gas was restored a few hours before the big storm.
The tivo has comatosed and is on life support. Thanks to the beautiful Kara, who is uploading an ISO of the backup for v3 for me to download and screw with, it should be off of life support this week. You don’t understand, Tivo IS MY BOYFRIEND. I will skip a car payment to get another one if i have to (and wring Paul’s nuts out in case it doesn’t work).
So Paul says to me today “Oh Lisa *lashes fluttering*, we have to use YOUR PC to fix the tivo. I run NTFS on my drives and we need fat32 to do the backup and go ahead and do XYZ and we’ll get this puppy working.” Well, XYZ doesn’t work and what started out as something simple, ends with Paul going “Oh me!” *gasping O face* “I don’t have special torque screwdriver wrench hatchet to take off primary drive so we can divorce the drives” which means my PC is now in parts (which you can view me and the dogs having a good old time at). I plug everything back in and double check all connections, make sure everything is grounded, etc. Boot up. Bios does not recognize either of my cdrom drives or neither of my drives. Hrm. Take out, remove, reinstall, double and triple check. Nothing. I’m so pissed I’m gritting my teeth and shooting daggers at Paul. He does this big ‘sigh’, I tell him to fix it or else I’m going to plant foot into arse and not remove until done so. I go and fuck off. Do laundry. Vacuum. Feed the dogs. Do dishes. Wax the eyebrows. Start on dinner. I come and find him standing up playing GTA4:Vice City and he says super flirtatiously “OH sweetie, I can’t get it to work”. I glare daggers. He pauses game and goes back into the office. As dinner finishes, he comes back out and says “Oh i got one drive working and one cdrw working. You don’t need two cdroms.” I speak through my teeth “Who are you to say if i need two or not?” He just looks at me, blinking like an epileptic watching video games, “Oh we’ll fix it later sweetie. Don’t worry.”

WHAT THE HELL HAS HAPPENED TO VAL KILMER THAT HE’S WHORING HIMSELF OUT TO NIKON DIGITAL?
ahem, so YAH. So i decide while I’m making dinner, that I want to write a faq about dating myself. Not me dating me, but for others to read to date me. Get it got it? Good. Because I need to come w/ a large warning label in hot pink that says PLEASE READ BEFORE OPENING.
Smashing Pumpkins doing the Fleetwood Mac song “landslide” was bad. Dixie Chix doing the “landslide” makes me want to stick hot pokers in my eyes. Though the one chick has this super cool hair going on.
But i digress.
Btw, I talk to the tv. and the radio. Just so you know.
So, it’s going on later, the Soprano’s are ending (holy shit!) and Paul and I are watching some Real Sex episode on HBO about the Moonlight Bunny Ranch in Nevada. I’m like, woah that is fucking cool. They make some crazy ass money and they are so comfortable with their sexuality and I so admire that. I have such a Madonna/Whore complex going on in my head sometimes it’s disgusting. I was telling Alisha about this the other night, that I admire people who are really so comfortable with their sexuality. I’m comfortable with my sexuality but i have this titch of exhibitionism going on and I really want to let her out.
Which is neither here nor there. So we are watching the Real Sex special and I’m saying “cool!” or “wow!” every five minutes, jamming away at my faq (and I just had gotten to the section and me and sex, which was getting REALLY interesting and I was getting supremely horny) when i put my feet down on the rug and i feel something wet. I thought I had spilled my beer (err Ben, I found a lone beer in the back of the fridge :o) and then I think “Oh fuck, what dog pissed on the carpet.” And i step gingerly around and the whole damn carpet is sopped! I scream and jump up *squish squish squish* and go grab towels and the towels are getting soaked quickly and the water is heading towards my pc. I make Paul unplug it and hand it to me and I run with it like it’s my baby to the kitchen and lay it gently on the counter. I also make him unplug everything in that vicinity. The carpet is fastly getting more soaked and it’s also now heading into the hall. I call the after-hours line and the security guy shows up and he’s like ‘yep you have a leak’ (thanks genius) and he says he’s going to get the maintance guy to come and fix it.
We retreated back to the office. I sat in my chair which is now parked behind Paul, Pugsley had jumped up and drapped himself across my chest (I guess he knows a great pair of tits when he lays on them) and I’m burning holes in the back of Paul’s head. He’s like “What did i do NOW.”
Well gee, I have no laptops (both were shipped back to Toshiba to get repaired on Saturday, and this is the one thing i don’t blame him for). My pc is in the kitchen and only half works. I can’t watch tv because when we took the tivo out of the entertainment center he could not be bothered to put things back together. He is sitting there flanked by two PCs and a laptop not giving a shit that I HAVE NOTHING. All my shit is either pieced apart or broken or something.
I continue glaring. Apparently I look the devil incarnate when i do this.
And I kid you not, the first thing I thought about when the idea of turning the water off was “Fuck. I can’t masturbate tonight, because then I can’t wash my hands.”
ahahahaha. Yes well. I have an active imagination. I refuse to apologize for it.
Paul gets off his ass and hooks the satellite box back to the tv so I can watch tv and I click on VH1 Classic as they were doing 80s special and I’m bopping around with the dogs drapped around me watching old def leppard, twisted sister, and new order. Hence why all the music references. Sammy Haggar, still cannot drive 55.
But I’m LAUGHING. I’m laughing because everything is so absurd. I’m grossing myself out because I did not shower today and now i have NO WATER. Paul’s like “oh we’ll just do the ghetto showering (using the water stored in the fridge) tomorrow and you’ll live” and I’m making faces because I’m grossed out by it. I won’t even be able to make CAWFEE tomorrow morning. Fuck, I’m gonna die.
But I’m laughing because the water being turned off till it’s repaired tomorrow is the least of all the shit that is going on THIS WEEK. Even having no heat for nearly two days didn’t top this one.
I’m laughing because in a week my brother has back stabbed me on various things and I had to remove him from my mailing list and now I’m looking for a one bedroom apartment which might be sketchy but I’ve never ever lived alone. I’m laughing because my lawyer calls me and tells me on Saturday that he was unable to sell stocks to put cash into my account and he’s going on vacation on 12/10 and will not be able to get money into the account until 12/20, which was the day I was planning on leaving, which would not be too terrible if it were not for the fact how much stuff gets pulled out from my debit before then. Paul has offered me cash but I refuse to take it because as he said tonight “YOU ARE NOT LEAVING UNTIL I HAVE A CAR”. Oh the fuck I am not! I will be out of here before January 1st and no later and even if that means I go without anything but a car full of goods. You had THREE YEARS to get a car. Not. My. Problem. Kiss. My. Ghetto. Ass. Don’t ask. In my head it sounded like a good idea to stay at the time.
I’ll be spending Christmas alone due to reorganization issues. Again. Paul did this whole spiel Saturday night about how “OH we can stay together for Christmas and XYZ” and then drops this bomb on me while I’m orgasming eating at this awesome restaurant that night that ‘Oh, i HAVE to go home for Christmas blah blah blah’. I wanted to take the coffee I was drinking and toss it in his face. Then he comes back with oh you have to stay through the New Year so that we can have our departing sex. Right. This coming from someone who has believed/accepted or said I was a gold digging whore, that i’ve ruined his life, used him, abused him, drove away all our friends, held grudges, was rude crude and mean. And he wants to still fuck me… Sure. Whatever you say.
——
I’m laughing because I’m dying right now. I’m dying because I’m watching this video for Santana called “Game of Love” and people are smooching and if you gave me a choice between having okay sex or awesome kissing, I’m taking kissing hands down. I’d probably take kissing over most anything actually. It’s everything about the act, the hands, the whole caressing of the face. The whole burning look, hands in the hair. I’m so tired of dating guys who are crap ass kissers and are under this delusion that they are gods in bed. And it’s not just one ex it’s like majority of them. As TLC says “Girls Talk”. So back to this whole kissing thing, it’s a fetsih or something but whatever it is, the whole ritual gets me hot. Especially if the guy has good lips. mmmmmmmmmm. I can go for hours on this little fantasy alone. days even. Hell months even. 😉
and as it’s going on 6am, final note is that i need something answered. I have an online journal. This is my place. My space. My feelings. No regrets. So riddle me this batman, why is it when I start dating someone they are like “OH LISA, you are so UNLIKE anyone else. You are so (insert tired cliche). I’ve learned so much about you via your journal.” But when the breakup happens, as it tends to do, why is it their FIRST offense is this damn journal? ALWAYS. Without fail. Always. Always.
—–
I’ll leave you with my horoscope for today:
Dear lisa, here is your Horoscope for December 09, 2002
People around you might think that you have never matured, lisa, and that you still have the mind of a child. It might not seem obvious at first, but your light-hearted attitude is also a symbol of great wisdom. As others, who have committed to long-term romances, you will find out that you will never lose your light-heartedness.
—–
x0x0x0
leuke schoenen, gaan we neuken?

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 .

cut-off point

I told someone 30 was my cut-off point. If I don’t accomplish a lot of what I want to do before I’m 30 — I’m gone. Now before you start going “Um, Lisa, that is SUCH a cry for help” and calling your local suicide hotline, don’t bother. 98% chance that I won’t off myself (I made a funny!). Anyone who has known me for years that these things pass with time and I’m never serious — however, I know that many of us feel, that from time to time, life isn’t worth living. And sometimes I’m happy that I made it through my first suicide attempt 10 years ago, and other times I wish I would have died. But that is neither here nor there. I’m just telling you how it is folks, that is why you are here.
I will make no illusions that I’m being serious. For a few days, i was dead serious. But, I have (and will always know) that this passes with time. Being bipolar manic/depressive isn’t cool kids. It sucks major ass. Lemme tell you.
But things are looking up. I’m removing myself from one situation and starting anew life. I’m really digging someone I’ve been digging for 6 months and he’s mein gott(g). I had to say it to taunt him.
Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, there is so much, that you as a general public are not aware of. So much lies behind me then what meets the eye. Some people are not comfortable with knowing THAT MUCH about me — others want to own my soul. I give what I can — when I can. I give to those I feel deserve it and when I feel they need to have it. It’s not a game — it’s my life.
i’ve always been strong — and I’ve always attempted to make some sort of peace within my life. I’ve always strived to be the VERY FUCKING BEST that I can be. And that threatens people — and it’s harmful to others. My megalomania can be daunting. Fuck, I just created a new IM name: LishaIsGod. heh. Cos, I am god. this is my fucking world and I’m letting you enjoy it. If you piss me off, nothing a little DENY won’t work magic on.

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.

the winner is…

not me.
too much inspiration and not enough creativity. i miss them all and apparently that’s a bad thing. apparently it’s wrong. it’s always wrong.
i’m waiting for the dam to burst and i don’t have any towels to stop the leaks. and i’m glad I don’t, because once the dam bursts open then perhaps we can all save ourselves instead of lying to each other on a daily basis. I’m back to looking at people through green-colored glasses, wishing life was really like that over on that side and knowing that they are mere shallow humans walking around in their lean cuisine and abtastic bodies.
i’ve not had a cigarette in 60+ days and my mouth feels like shit. Nothing can make the taste go away, so what do I do? I eat and I consume mass quanties of water and it stilld oesn’t go away.
———
i’ve written before about my dream of the mystery lover who whom i’d never see but yet he was always with me. the mystery lover whom i knew was a brunette but yet i never saw his face. I have all these qualifications in my head of what they are like, this person. These qualifications that I’ve been fine tuning since i was a wee tot, and today i said to myself “Fuck. it.”
i miss him/them. it never was. i miss their smell.
———
it was your smell
that’s all i could remember
laying
down on the sofa, on the
bed
closing my eyes and thinking
of
you