non sequitur

this has been one hell of a weekend. well, it’s been one hell of a week. so much has happened within the space of a few days, plus my own thoughts and feelings, i have a feeling I’m going to be all over the place — more so than usual.
from the what’s new front:
87 people on the mailing list (geez, can’t i eve break a 100?). Did some more comestic work on the website. Added filez, pictures, pr0n and really put up the obligatory webrings, awards and links page.
family fun
yanno, another reason i don’t get the holidays is mainly because my own family is fsck’d in a definite loony way. for instance, now that I’m all settled in Fairfax and basically living with paul (meaning he doesn’t show up until the 30th perm), i decided to start calling my aunts and stuff to let them know i was alive and living. and basically i got to hear for an hour about how horrible of a daughter i am (because i haven’t spoken to my mother in about 6 months), about how everyone is a son of a bitch and Canadian currency is basically crap and how one aunt married her drug and alcoholic bf and moved to Kentucky and that my other aunt and her husband moved to Florida.
you know, its the Christmas season. and I’m trying to make the best of it. i thought by calling my Aunt Jackie and letting her know I was okay and that I was sending them a Xmas card with my and Pauls address that it would be okay. But it wasn’t. My Aunt Roberta (her younger sister and sidekick) basically grilled me about paul. When she asked me if paul had a big family and I said “yah, he’s half Spaniard and Irish and catholic”, she drops her voice and whispers “is he dark?” Like jesus christ people. This is 1999. His coloring shouldn’t matter to anyone. (But the boy is pretty goddamn pale.) And when I told her that we were getting married she said “Well, I won’t tell anyone that you aren’t married now (due to the fact that paul and I are living together)”.
They always make me feel so goddamn rotten when I speak to them. I don’t know why I do it. Maybe it was because of seeing how Paul interacts with his family and this was something he and I had discussed that I could shed some light into my own family problems.
Turned out I was wrong.
My father had a stroke two weeks ago, and I got the phone call from my cousin James in Toronto. I’m a okay.
this is the part when i start deconstructing myself and feeling like shit. bah.
how i spent my saturday (December 11, 1999)
Editors Note: as we all know, when people start talking about a ‘friend’ and not naming names, it is generally presumed that it is really about the person who is telling the story. fortunately in this case, it really is not about me. it’s about a long time friend of mine who choose to get an abortion. since she has been mentioned in TLC in the past, she was afraid she would start getting hate mail because of her choice. so we decided that it was okay for me to talk about it, just not to mention her name. I’ve never been pregnant and paul and i are not expecting devils spawn. really.
when i found out that one of my oldest friends was pregnant, i wasn’t happy. i knew that she hadn’t been practicing birth control and knowing that she had been pregnant in the past due to ‘carelessness’ really irritated me. you see, out of the group of close friends i grew up with (high school/college), I’m the only one in the bunch who has never been pregnant and thusly was lucky enough never to have to make a decision on whether or not i was going to keep a child.
I’ve had my shares of scares, true, but I’ve always been ultra paranoid about my sexual health. when Alan and i were dating in the early 90s, we had went and gotten checked together so that we could practice monogamous safe sex without using condoms (i was on the pill at the time and told that i was possibly not going to be able to have kids as it was). so, like any other young couple in love, we got checked and tossed away the condoms. then i found out that he had been cheating on me. and then i found out that he had NOT been practicing safe sex with this other girl. my own paranoia (aids had just started to ravage the country and people were on the war path about safe sex) plus common sense prompted me to to get checked and make sure that i was okay. i was. but that set in motion a passion about sexual awareness and practicing safe sex that is almost cult like.
I’ve had many discussions with lots of people about practicing safe sex. I cannot believe that in this day and age people are so fucking stupid about not using protection. the most common excuses I’ve heard are “i don’t like condoms” and “i can’t remember to take the pill” — okay fine, but there are other options for you to use. not all of the guaranteed (nothing in life is) and not all of them protect you from disease but something is better than nothing. sex to me is a very adult thing — meaning you have to take the responsibly along with your actions. i cannot tolerate excuses about why people are not practicing safe sex. and yesh, i practice what i preach. I’m on the pill and paul and i use condoms.
so when my friend told me she was pregnant, i felt sad for her. she was taking it all in stride though — I’ll grant you that. but when she went to get checked and was scheduling a time to have the procedure, they refused to do it telling her that she was much farther along than she thought she was. which was wrong. her boyfriend didn’t move in till late august and she got pregnant early September. they told her the time of the conception was middle of august — which is fricken impossible since she was only sleeping with him — and he wasn’t event here yet. and she was also pregnant with twins. and since the clinic claimed she was above the date for an abortion (she found out that babies were just bigger than normal) — state of Virginia will not do anything past the first trimester (up to 12 weeks). she could go to Philly, DC or North Carolina to have the procedure done.
She choose DC.
I didn’t find out until nearly her appointment that she was coming up. i rescheduled work and plans to help her out. it was a two day procedure. on the first day (Friday) she was going in for what she calls the ‘seaweed stick’ procedure. what this is, is that they stick sticks up your vagina wrapped in iodine to dilate the cervix. this is (according to the paperwork she was given) the beginning of the abortion. the second day (saturday) visit is when the actual abortion would take place, which would last about 1/2 hour with an additional 2-3 hours for resting. she was then free to leave as long as someone was driving her home. — and that person would have been me.
she arrived late Friday night in some discomfort. the babies had been kicking and she was also having mild cramping. she was having a hard time even going to the bathroom because she was afraid the sticks might fall out. after taking a nap that evening, she and i stayed up and talked until 2 am — when we had to be up at 6 am to get up for the appointment.
and as we talked, she kept telling me how she was feeling the babies kick — and she said it such a non-chalant way that it was almost scary.
we woke up early saturday morning and both forwent showers to get to the appointment on time. we arrived a few minutes past 7:30 to see that there were protesters already out front. well duh. planned parenthood. Washington DC. hello here. we walked quickly by them, went through the security guards and were let into the clinic. other girls soon followed in and at 8am, the nurse started calling peoples names to go back for the procedure.
she gave me the option of going back to the apartment and getting rest and then coming to pick her up. i decided to hang out for awhile and just kill time. i read magazines, i watched the waiting room swell up with people. all types of girls came in — i couldn’t tell who was there for what. but there were all races and social classes. some came in alone, others came in with bf’s/spouses/partners. finally around 9:30am, i went outside and chain smoked for awhile.
i met up with two volunteers for the clinic and talked with for awhile. the protesters had grown in numbers but it was still a small motley group of people. one man had a huge (about 3’x2′) sign that showed a dead fetus with “32 million babies killed since Roe vs Wade”. there were young and old people, chanting Holy Marys and giving away rosaries. The volunteers were friendly and a bit passionate about their work. we talked about the protesters and i asked them what it was like doing this. i was truly curious. i mean, I’ve heard and read all the stories about what was going down at these clinics. when i went to PP in Oakland for my own checkup, we were forced to check in with a security guard and go through auto-locked doors. this place in DC was more secure — and the protesters, man, it was like something out of CNN. they approached everyone walking near the clinic and gave them roasiers and told them they would pray for their sins. one young Hispanic girl came in with her bf. i watched her staring up at the sign above the entrance and watched her eyes water as she tightly clutched her bf’s hand. i felt so sorry for her, i wanted to do something but i didn’t know what to do. hell, for all i know she could be there for a pap smear.
the volunteers job was to make sure the protesters didn’t harass the patients as they walked into the clinic. they spoke softly to the women walking up and comforted them if they didn’t look so hot. i stood outside for nearly an hour watching this take place in 35 degree weather. i had my scarf wrapped around my neck and my gloves on as i chain smoked just watching the scene. i chatted some more with the volunteers and walked back in. by this time, it was going on 10am and the waiting room was packed. i settled down in a very uncomfortable chair and read newsweek waiting for my friend to leave.
she walked out at 12:15pm and just seemed as snappy as she ever was. she wasn’t feeling sick or upset. she just wanted a cigarette and food. we went to safeway to grab some maxi-pads for her and some advil and drove to TGI Fridays for lunch. Both of us acted like nothing had happened. sure we spoke about her abortion but i was as if nothing had happened. she felt well enough a few hours later and drove back home.
Pauls been on this kick lately about not letting me have a dog that he PROMISED i would get for Christmas. you see, his aunt raises pure breed pugs and we were going to get one out of the next litter. but some moron told him that if i asked for a dog now, within 6 months i would be asking for a kid. a: paul wanted the dog first and b: I’m not planning on getting pregnant for quite some time.
Abortion is a touchy subject. There is, I believe no right way or wrong way to go about it. Me personally? I’m pro-choice. I like having the option that if an unwanted pregnancy came up that there was an option for me to terminate it. but it’s the people who ABUSE it that irritate me. It’s the constant stupidity people use towards sex and their own health that drives me insane. I don’t begrudge my friend for having the abortion — i begrudge her for not taking care of herself first in the first place. This is why, in so many ways, volunteering for a PP or for a rape crisis center is something that really speaks to me. I’ve seen too many women waste their lives by having kids they did not love because they were pregnant or abuse the system that was given to them. There are WAY too many people running around in this world who think AIDS/HIV/STDs and pregnancy won’t happen to them because they don’t fall into the criteria for the demographics.
If you are in a relationship with someone or are sleeping with someone, do yourself a favor. respect yourself and use protection. i don’t want another person going through what my friend did.

404 Not Found

From Greg: “OK, either you’re being subtle, or you have a bad link. Either way, you have to admit that the answer to “what do you want” being “Not Found” is kinda funny in a Janeane Garofalo-ish web-savvy kind of way. :)”
Uh, well, I went to upload the file what i want and my connection died last night. I dialed into three ISPs and I couldn’t route for the life of me. However, amusingly enough I could route in Linux. But the file is in winders. I’ll fix it tonight. ūüôā
99% accurate
I’m not pregnant.
you are probably wondering “what?” but for the last few weeks, the only thing on my mind has been the fact that I “may” or “may not” be carrying another life within me. i was conscious of this as i sat drinking all day Sunday and i was conscious of this every time i lit up a cigarette and smoked.
but I’m jumping ahead.
As many of you who know me fairly intimately know that I haven’t been “right” with menstruation since, well, forever. I was one of those weird kids that got their period at the age of 8 (and had to deal with Mrs. Bruntrock (real name) calling me a liar and forcing my mother to come down to St. Josephs to verify my claims of having to change my damn pad) and got it again at the tender age of 13. I was regular for like a minute and then I stopped getting it. I got examined at the age of 15 where the doctor proclaimed I “may” or “may not” have juvenile endometriosis. he suggested however that i start taking the pill to regulate my periods and take things from there on in.
i think i was the only virgin who has ever been on the pill.
this worked well on and off for the last 11 years, but there has been times where the choice between getting my prescription refilled and eating and eating came out to be a winner.
when i moved to SF, I had my doctor write out a prescription for me for a years worth and diligently took the pill with no problems, however my prescription ran out last July and I haven’t been back to get it refilled since.
In the interim, I was sleeping with Justin, who was by far the only person I was sleeping with, and we were double bagging condoms on top of the pill. When the prescription ran out, I didn’t really think anything about it and just kept screwing Justin and using those damn condoms but kicking myself internally for being too lazy to get the prescription refilled. there has never been any worry of me getting pregnant as we were taking extra caution since i went off the pill.
i haven’t had my period since January.
living with another alpha she bitch (ie: Cathleen) in the house has caused, when even on the pill, disruption in my cycle. Cathleen and i would joke about who was “large and in charge” based on who was forcing the other person to go with their others cycle. it was damn annoying. then i went off the pill. and I didn’t have my period for a few months and then i got cramps from hell and got it in December and January. and i took out my Dilbert planner and marked the days so that i could finally start tracking my period to see who really was large and in charge.
for months I would get “symptoms” that i was all too familiar with: some cramping, craving of chocolate/salt for a day or so. moodiness. and then Cathleen would tell me that she just finished her cycle and it suddenly make sense. so I started jotting down my moods and they completely corresponded with when she was on her cycle.
but no blood.
I kept telling myself that it was just my fucked up body doing it’s thing, but then march turned into April turned into may turned into June.
and then I started feeling “funny”.
Ever since James went back to England a week or so back, my stomach has been acting weird. a combination of cramps and acid and major gas. i felt like someone had shoved an air pump up my butt and just filled me with 10lbs of air. my stomach hurt, i couldn’t drink anything more than milk and sometimes even that was too hard. and i couldn’t take it anymore. i hadn’t told anyone what had been going on. i was in complete denial about what was going on. and when James and I talked about it the other day, found out that both of us were having the exact same symptoms for the exact same of time (since he left). and if i was “maybe” pregnant, did that mean james was too?
so i told Justin what i was feeling.
and he said “you’re not pregnant” and i asked him how did he know? and he said that he had been through this with his ex and he did research on getting pregnant and turns out it’s harder than it seems. yeah sure, i mean if you have real respect for your body, you’ll always use protection, but even so, he kept telling me that there was like a zillion and one chance that i was pregnant (go back to the: ALWAYS using protection and double bagging at that). He said he wasn’t worried. I was worried. I kept talking about going and buying a pregnancy test and never got around to it. I kept putting it off and putting it off. and i had gotten my horoscope on Saturday for Sunday and it said something like “the news you have to tell people will be taken with more sense then you have” or some shit and i freaked out. I had planned, on Sunday to go and get the test and interpreted THAT to mean that if I WAS pregnant that people would be cool with it. So i skipped out buying the test.
But i couldn’t deal with NOT knowing absolutely for sure.
So last night, after dropping Cat off at my house, I screwed up the nerve and drove to longs. I lit up a cigarette even though I knew that it was a 2 minute drive. I parked the car and walked right in with determination in my back and my head held high.
I was so scared.
I walked down the baby aisle and just stared at all that BABY crap and a million things went through my head about abortions and having kids and my friends who had all been done this path before me. i thought about my immaturity (i can’t even take care of a damn cat hello!) and the fact that if i ever got pregnant i wanted to be married or at least very much in love with someone.
and then i couldn’t find the damn tests.
i looked to my right and saw something that said “early testing”
But of course.
Pregnancy tests are located next to the condoms. How silly of me not to have thought of that.
I grabbed the first package and read the instructions. It sounded simple enough and walked towards the cash register. I sat there, shoving the box underneath my armpit. I felt ashamed as i watched the people ahead of me buying Mt. Dew and their damn dr scholls foot deodorant. I stood there with my mind running in a million different directions. I twitched and put the box face down on the conveyor belt and started reading the Enquirer. I kept telling myself “there is ABSOLUTELY nothing to be ashamed of. No one is going to make fun of me for buying a pregnancy test.” But I couldn’t help swallowing hard as Tariq the counter guy asked me how i was doing as he examined the box a little more closely. I said fine thanks and kept my head held high and attempting not to look scared..
I drove home and read the instructions. Now all I had to do was wait to pee.
And I waited.
And I waited.
By the time i went to bed some 6 hours later (and drank enough water to kill a horse), i still couldn’t pee.
I went to bed after working out determined that regardless of what, i was taking the test the next morning even if it killed me.
as par usual, i woke up late.
I had the most delicious dream that I was dating Henry Rollins and had been screwing him in an apartment we shared. I heard the alarm go off and looked at the clock. i was determined to do this. i grabbed a plastic cub and went to the bathroom. ripped open both packages (two tests came in one package). dipped the sticks into the urine. jumped in the shower for five minutes (test takes 1-3 minutes), jumped back out. pulled the sticks out. looked that the information sheet. looked at the sticks. looked at the package. looked back at the sticks.
went out and said “hey Justin!”
got a muffled “wha?” from under the covers.
“I’m not pregnant.”
a “woohoo!” comes through loud and clear. then a “i told you so.”
As to be expected, i can’t but help feeling a tad bit disappointed. i had it all in my head that if i was pregnant i was going to have an abortion. i wasn’t in love with Justin, i was single, i wasn’t making enough money, i wasn’t in love, i wasn’t married. a thousand different thoughts went through my head of the reason “why” i wouldn’t have a child right now. but as i grow older, I’ve noticed that the more i look at some little girl with big brown eyes and dark hair and think “she could be mine”. and i can’t help feeling that all the promises i made in my head to a god i didn’t believe in were not only empty but somewhat full of some meaning. i start stressing out about how now that I’m getting older I’ll soon be too old to have kids.
the irony is that five years ago, i thought i was pregnant with Alan’s child (another “oh shit haven’t had my period in 5 months deal). and i had thought THEN there was no problems in my head with being young and having a baby. now five years later, i found that my expectations of what i want from life are completely different then they were then. i always thought i was strong then, but i was so immature. and i realize now that if i sat here and think about it, i could have handled having a little girl (or boy) NOW as I’m older than when i was young and stupid. maybe I’m not in the right situation right now, and i know there is a lot i want to do before i get married or live in sin again or whatever, but just thinking about the reasons then of wanting to have a child and now —
please god.
let me not turn into Ally McBeal.

When I wake up, in my makeup

Waking up at 5am has got to go!
I feel drained and exhausted by 3pm everyday, and I want to go to bed when I get home from work. I keep hoping Justin will get another shift at work so that he can go in later, but nothing as of yet. He says they are trying to mandate a new set of shifts so that more people can work the 8-5 or 9-6 hours, but it’s not happening as of yet. I can’t believe I get up at 5am as it is. I love this time of morning. It is so surreal.
The following is not approved for children under 18
As many people know or have rightly guessed, my sex life is pretty open. There seemingly isn’t anything I have done or have yet to do (save me and two men, but I’m holding out for the right guy). One of the things that I like doing occasionally, is having anal sex with my lover. Now, I’m not speaking of him having anal sex with me, but the other way around. (If I need to draw you a picture, it would probably be best bet to go ask your parents about the birds and the bees).
I enjoy sex. I enjoy making love to my partner and I also enjoy being rough and rowdy. Missionary is okay, but not for long periods of time. The more rough it is, the better I like it.
Justin likes being sweet and sensual, so after over 6 months of being lovers, we are still finding a perfect middle ground. A friend of mine telling me about his nine year relationship with his boyfriend tells me that the middle ground take awhile to get to. I’ve initiated Justin in being more open about his likes/dislikes and also finding common ground when we are in bed together.
So the other night, we are getting all sexual and I let slip that I really want to fuck¬†him. I was in the mood for being aggressive/dominating, and having¬†him¬†on his knees. He cringed and said something like “if you really really want to…”. And I said “I do.” But instead of making it more passionate, or working up towards it, it became more of a clinical procedure. First he had to go clean his anal area. Then the lights came on and the candles blown out so that he could see what I was doing. next was watching me put lube on the dildo because he wanted to make sure that I put¬†enough¬†lube on the damn thing.
So there we are, justin on his knees with his ass in the air, cringing like a school boy. I couldn’t stop laughing because obviously by this time I was feeling as passionate as a cat on a hot tin roof. he goes in telling me about how a few years back, he had to have an anal probe due to a serious gallstone problem he had. And that experience left him pretty anal (snicker) about his ass. He said the procedure was painful and he couldn’t sit for an extended period of time.
So i’m attempting to do shove a dildo up his ass, and he’s cringing and making sarcastic remarks. I can’t stop laughing because the whole scene was absurd. Finally, I smacked him on the ass and told him to get up. I put everything away and got dressed. There was no point in continuing our little experiment because i was no longer interested. He thankfully got up and ran to the bathroom for more cleansing.
My ex-lover Alan turned me on to this when we were dating. I had taken a very well lubed finger and shoved it up his anus one night and he screamed in passion. The man was writhing around like a two cent whore begging for more. It’s all about power, for me, to be in control. Of course the whole world knows that se7en (aka Christian Valor Ansieres) was into getting his ass fucked. He told me stories of how he used to jerry-rig dildos so he could back up into them and fuck them himself.
Other lovers that have come and gone from my life were pretty open about it. I found out via extended phonesex/netsex sessions with Jeff that he would have gone for it (never attempted, and don’t really want that image in my head). It’s not something that I require, but if the person wants x and I want z, we should be able to communicate on how to find it. But Justin’s whole behavior was a turnoff, so I wasn’t interested in finding out if he liked it or not.
Of course now, it’s perfect teasing material.

Last night we were sitting on the couch watching “Frasier” or something and he kept attempting on putting his feet on my lap. Justin has big feet (size 14/15’s), and even though he has pretty blue toenails, his feet are pretty calloused from all the exercise he does. I started shrieking about his “nasty” feet (I don’t know why they gross me out, they just do). He finds it damn funny I have ‘issues’ with his fucking feet. he says I should be able to let him put them on me when he wants to. I countered that with “Then you should let me fuck you when I want to.” He agreed to the point and suggested we buy one of those mini-dildos (about the size of a finger) to get him started.
Now that will be interesting, don’tcha think?

i am the hunter

Took a somewhat less brief look today, then remembered why I wasn’t reading it. Nothing personal, I just don’t like writing that’s intensely inwardly focused. Too easy to get caught up in.- Bryan Fullerton about da’ chronicles

I’ve got insomnia and I’ve got a lot to cover today, so please bear with me.
First, I changed the title bar again. naming my page “Spanking da’ Monkey” seemed lame after I uploaded it. I finally found something to match my personality then it seeming like i’m masturbating every other second. ūüėČ
11 people are¬†subscribed¬†to da’ chronicles. if you are reading this on a daily basis, while I love the hits, having it delivered to your email box might be a better solution as bryan is always upgrading his server and I have no control whether or not the server is going to be up. But, the downfall is any internal links will not be available to you if you get it emailed. Why am I mentioning this? Damnit, because I want my cake and eat it too!
If your looking for a good place to find used/rare CDs, please check out:¬†¬†Greg¬†found the cd I had been lusting for there and I found copies of other crap that I had been wanting for awhile as well. Big selection and nice prices. And I think I’m regretting the fact I just paid a fat chunk to my credit card.
Fact of the day:
At any given time, only 30% of the Web is indexed in any given search engine. Wow. Just think of all the pr0n your missing out on.
Two things lisa did that defy explanation:
1. I sorted out my bookmarks finally. I will be egotistical enough to let you¬†view¬†them. We are talking about four years worth of bookmarks here. I can’t guarantee that they all work nor have they been properly subjected to my anal retentiveness in cleaning them out thoroughly, however, they are in some semblance of order.
I would also note that many of the hot spots I hang at aren’t here. Mainly, I have this weird type of memory that I can remember URL’s more so than peoples name/faces, phone numbers and the like. Plus many personal sites are characterized on the¬†players¬†page.
2. I cleaned out my inbox. You may think this isn’t that huge of a deal, however, I used to have anywhere from 60-100 emails sitting there at any given time (not including what I had filtered to mailing lists in their own boxes). now, i’m down to 16!! woohoo!! I can finally see all personal email without having to fucking scroll ūüôā this rocks my socks.
it’s approximately 1:30am and I am numb.
Not really, I just have freaking insomnia.
So where we left last night, I had uploaded and updated everything and gone to bed. I walked into the bedroom to see Justin lying on the bed with his mouth open and snoring. The only thing that redeemed him was the fact that he was snuggling a pillow. I took off my robe and kicked off my slippers and climbed naked into bed. I started grinding against him hard and petting him, hoping that he would respond to wanting to make love.
he did, but not quite in the fashion you were thinking.
We’ve noticed (he and I) that I tend to get more aroused when he’s half dead to the world then when he’s conscious. If he’s (If you currently own the soundtrack to The X-Files Movie (released this past summer) go to track 14 and fast forward the time to 10:12) conscious and wanting to have sex during “daylight” hours, I tend to be more self-involved or shying away from that. It’s strange how our cycles tend to change over time.